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explicit-tae · 2 months

Text

Little Doe

An alternate world in which Predator Hybrids are the top of the Hybrid hierarchy. It’s Valentine’s Day and you, a Prey Hybrid, decide to help a Predator Hybrid through their heat. @whipwhoops @seokjinkismet @bloodline1632 @darkuni63 @babycandy111

Word Count: 5.161

Warning: smut, hybrid/shifter universe, wolf hoseok, doe/deer reader, heat/rut sex, dirty talk, licking, oral sex, fingering, squirting, unprotected sex, knotting, biting, impregnation/breeding kink,

Valentine’s Day Masterlist | Alternate Universe

“Jung Hoseok.” the man says, arm spread out to offer his hand to you. You take it with a smile, shaking it. His grip is firm, but polite.

“Y/L Y/N.” you introduce yourself before sitting down behind your desk. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Jung-ssi.”

“Hoseok is fine.” the man smiles, flashing you a pair of perfect teeth.

Your body flushes and you nod. “Yes, Hoseok.” you murmur, slightly embarrassed by your sudden change of attitude. “I-I got your paperwork. It appears to me that you are a Predator Shifter…?”

You were what was called a “heat partner”. In a world where Shifters walk freely alongside humans, predator Shifters and prey Shifters such as yourself, it was important for Shifters to have something for themselves. Such as a heat partner when they aren’t “mated” to anyone.

Heat partners are exactly what they are described, perfectly designed to assist a person through their heat - male or female. You had made the business proposal back in college and the business has since grown national - even as the CEO, you participated (only when top dollars were made to be earned).

Such as now, with Jung Hoseok.

The man is charming, you’d admit. Tall with broad shoulders and a sculptured face. Smooth skin with soft eyes and a pair of heart-shaped lips. In order to afford your services, the man was obviously wealthy - having stated in his application that whatever price you listed was what he was willing to pay.

The kicker was - he was a predator Shifter. Your agency does strictly prey. That didn’t mean that you didn’t open another separate business for Predators - you had! You, however, were not running said business.

“Yes, I am.” Hoseok nods his head after your question. “I take suppressants to…mask my scent.”

No wonder, you think; There wasn’t any scent on him and that meant that he was dousing himself with suppressants on the daily. The thought frightened you a bit - just what type of Predator was he?

“As you know, Jung - Hoseok,” you begin. “We typically serve Prey Shifters here. Is there a certain-”

“Excuse me.” Hoseok suddenly interrupts. “I’m well aware of what agency I applied with. You are the person I’m looking for, after all.” Hoseok is direct when he speaks, never faltering and not a stutter in sight.

A predator indeed.

“Y-Yes.” you nod your head. “I’m aware, but-”

“Money is no issue.” Hoseok speaks. He was pleading, his eyes staring right into your own. He swallows. “I…I prefer not to have predator Shifters for my heats.”

You didn’t realize your hands were gripping his paper work in your hand until it began to crinkle beneath your fingers.

“As you know we do not ask our customers certain questions due to confidentiality. However, you being a Predator Shifter, I must.”

Hoseok nods. “You’re asking what Shifter I am?”

You nod hesitantly. “I’m a deer.” you tell him, watching and waiting for his reaction.

Hoseok nods. “I can smell you.” he murmurs, voice low that it causes goosebumps to litter your skin - thank god you wore a long-sleeve shirt. Your head was ringing with alarm bells to get as far away from this man as possible.

“I-I can't smell you.” you try to smile but it appears more as a grimace. “If I may ask…”

Hoseok is hesitant, but he answers nonetheless. “A wolf.”

Hoseok can hear your heart increase by the second, pounding so loudly out your chest that he has to suppress a growl - something he does on instant rather than anything personal.

“You’re frightened.”

Terrified. “N-No-” he stuttered, shaking your head. You were lying to comfort him, but your sudden demeanor change told him everything he needed to know.

“Please.” Hoseok sighs out, utterly desperate. “I cannot handle other wolves or predators. They’re…” his nose curls. “...too dominant for me. They fight me.” he speaks, tone low. “You Prey are soft and sweet. Submissive.”

Now he looks like a creep, Hoseok thinks. Your eyes are wide and you want to run as far away as you can, but you’re a deer caught in headlights - literally.

“I-I-” you’re unsure what to tell Hoseok. You’re frightened, yes, but overall, you wanted to help him. He had come to you specifically - the reason you’re unsure - but he wanted help. It’s an unusual request. Not very many Predators come here and pay for Prey, but it isn’t uncommon for them to hookup outside of their heat cycles.

“I have a set price an hour…”

Hoseok licks his lips with anticipation. “Yes.” he nods hastily. “I would like to pay you more if you’d like.”

“That won’t be-”

“I want you to stay with me the entire week.”

Hoseok hears it again, your heartbeat racing.

“I’m not going to eat you, Y.N.” Hoseok says, his eyes flickering with something different, however. “It’s just…I…I need you there with me all the time.” he doesn’t elaborate further and you’re far too afraid that if he does, you’ll back out of the deal.

“I’ll need to see the place before your heat starts.” you slowly nod your head, placing his paperwork down. “Does tomorrow work for you? It’s for my safety.”

“Of course!” Hoseok nods. “Anything you need.”

You bite the inside of your cheek. “Well, for now we can sign paperwork.” you open a draw to your desk and grasp a black pen to sign your name on said documents. “If you’d like to take it home with you and read through it, you can.”

Hoseok nods his head and takes the documents in his hands. “Thank you.” he grins your way. “I’ll have them signed tomorrow.” he begins to stand, as do you. “Thank you for your time, Y/L-ssi.” he gives you his hand once more and you return the smile shyly.

“Y/N is fine, Hoseok.” you tell him, grabbing his hand to shake once more. You yelp when Hoseok lifts your hand to his lips and kisses it. His lips are soft, his dark eyes flickering up to look at you.

The drive to Hoseok home was a long one - understandably. He, after all, was a wolf shifter and like yourself, preferred to reside in a forestry area. The trees are high into the sky and the scent is natural. The area is quiet as you park your car, eyes roaming the large cabin in front of you. It’s at least four stories built with the finest wood with high ceilings windows. There’s multiple lights shining onto the porch that wraps around the entire cabin.

You can smell them - not Hoseok, but more wolves. The smell is intoxicating, filling your senses and having you stiff in your spot. You swallow, your deer screaming to run away - far, far away from here.

Your eyes widen when the door of the cabin opens suddenly and behind it is a tall man. His eyes are on you in an instant and you’re unable to move or look away.

“You must be…Y/N?” the man says, strolling towards you. His footsteps creek above the wooden stairs as he makes his way towards you. “You’re a doe…” the man sniffs the air, an obvious attempt to smell you.

“You're scaring her.”

Oh no.

Another wolf emerges from behind the door. He’s a little shorter and behind him, yet another one, as tall as the first one. They all surround you, tall and dominant.

“Your heart's beating so fast, little doe. We’re not going to eat you.” the second one laughs heartily. “My name is Jimin. Hobi told us a Prey was coming.”

“I’m Jungkook.” the third one says, circling around you for a better view. “You’re very brave. We don’t get a lot of doe’s around here.”

There’s a growl that has you cowering - as do the other three wolves. You’re now visibly trembling, arms wrapped around you. You knew that the three meant no harm - they appeared younger than you and overall playful. As a deer shifter, you were just naturally terrified of any predator and being on their territory didn’t make it easier for you.

“Go somewhere else.”

That was Hoseok’s voice speaking now and your eyes glance upwards from the ground to see him towering behind the three wolves.

“I am so sorry.” Hoseok’s voice lowers when the three men scurry off, both apologizing and snickering. “They mean no harm. They’re just…playful.” he sighs. If you turned him down now he wouldn’t be upset with you.

“I-It’s okay.” you curse at the stutter in your voice. “D-Do they live here?”

“Somewhat.” Hoseok nods. “This,” he mentions to the large cabin behind him. “is my home. They come and go. They have their own homes on the land we’re on now.”

Hoseok picks up on your unease - it was natural. You were in a wolf's den surrounded by them. As a prey, you were like a shiny new toy to them.

“Please come in.” Hoseok offers you his hand to take. “It’s completely safe. They would not be here when I’m in heat.”

You allow Hoseok to show you inside the large cabin. The scent is heavy of wolves and it causes you to stick besides Hoseok as he was the only familiar person you knew.

“I want to show you something.” Hoseok squeezes your hand encouragingly. “It’s where we’d be staying next week.”

You nod your head.

Hoseok ventures deeper into the cabin. It’s warm and would be inviting if you weren’t a Prey.

“I’ve been using suppressants to mask my scent but here,” Hoseok stops before a wooden door. “is where I can be myself. The scent will be…powerful.”

Powerful indeed. Upon opening the door, you’re hit with a scent so prudent. You’re stunned for a second, eyes widening.

“That’s…your scent?” you whisper out.

Hoseok lightly tugs you inside the room. It’s large and appears to be like a bedroom, a large bed in the middle of the room. Behind it, a large ceiling window showcasing beautiful scenery outside. To the right is a door slightly cracked, you assumed a bathroom. On the far left is a bookcase with a desk.

“This is my den.” Hoseok speaks, releasing your hand but remaining close. “Similar to a nest.”

Hoseok watches the way your eyes scan the room. He senses that his scent is overbearing to you, dominant. For the last few weeks he’s been scenting it to assure that it smelt like him; that he’d be comfortable in the room for his rut.

“I hope it isn’t too much.” Hoseok speaks after five minutes of you calming yourself down.

“No!” you shake your head, turning to him. “I know nesting is important to those in heat or ruts.” you tell him truthfully, having done so yourself.

Hoseok grins at your statement. “Yes.” he nods. “I was wondering…if I could have something of yours. To remain here.” he swallows, adam's apple bobbing as he swallows.

You lick your lips as your body heats.

“If it’s too much-”

“No!” you interrupt. “I-I don’t mind.” you assure. You were here to help Hoseok soon and if this is what he wanted, then so be it. After all, he was a client paying top dollar for your services. “Is my jacket alright?”

Hoseok nods his head with a shrug. “Y-yeah.” his cheeks reddened.

You remove your jacket and hand it to Hoseok, body heated.

“I…” you lick your lips. “...can scent some more things in here. If it would make it better?”

Hoseok’s eyes widen a bit but he nods hastily. “Y-Yeah! You can.” he responds all too quickly. “Would you like something of mine? So you can become accustomed to it?” he offers.

You nod your head as well, encouraging grin on your lips. “Yes, that’ll be nice.”

For the last week you made sure to leave Hoseok’s scent on yours - and it caused stress amongst the other Prey’s at the office. Your assistant was the first to cower, not walking into your office due to fear - she was a rabbit shifter - and instead, called you from her own office opposite of yours. “The scent is that powerful? You recall asking her, surprised. “It’s only his shirt…”

Your own scent was covered in Hoseok’s and by the time it was for you to go to his home - coincidentally starting on Valentine’s Day - your scent was the acute one. However, it calmed you, as crazy as it sounded, because now you were accustomed to Hoseok’s scent. You’re thankful that you were able to ease your way into it instead of being overwhelmed like you were the week prior.

Like promised, you sensed no other wolves shifter in the area and you were thankful for that. Being around Hoseok was enough for you - you’re not sure if you could handle a whole pack of wolves sniffing around you.

Hoseok had sent you a message a few hours earlier telling you that the door was unlocked when you arrived, along with more messages. You’re appreciative that he offered to supply your food, stating that he has already filled his home with various fruits and vegetables to satiate your diet.

You clench your bag in your hand as you enter Hoseok’s home. It’s eerily silent and you wonder just what the man was doing. You don’t dwell, however, and instead make your way down the long, wooden hall to where his den was at.

You open the door to the den and find Hoseok inside. He’s asleep, sweat lining his forehead and he’s shirtless, the comforter only covering the bottom half of his body. You close the door behind you and exhale, placing your bag on the ground and making your way towards Hoseok.

You tilt your head to the side and snort. “You are kinda cute.” you murmur, placing a hand onto his forehead to wipe the sweat away.

It was the early stages of Hoseok’s head and he was only experiencing light chills and normal arousal - as the days led up, he would be utterly needy.

You dip down into the bed beside Hoseok, slowly to not wake him. You lay on your side and close your eyes. You’ll be here when Hoseok wakes up.

You’re unsure when you fell asleep and for how long, but the large window that once shined with natural light now only displays a full moon.

You moan sleepily when the sensation runs through you. Your hips are being gripped, sharp fingernails digging into your skin.

“You smell so good, little doe.”

Goosebumps gather onto your skin at the voice - deep, raspy and full of needy lust. Hoseok was awake, grinding into you from behind. His lips are pressing wet kisses to the skin behind your ear, a low growl mewling from his lips.

“Y-You’re awake.”

“I smelled you from my sleep.” Hoseok’s lips are now on your neck, inhaling your scent. His mouth is salivating. “‘wanna taste you, little doe. You’d let me, right?”

“Yes.” you nod weakly, whimpering.

“So good, little doe. So submissive like how I’d known you’d be.” Hoseok flips you onto your back and cages you beneath him. Your eyes meet the obvious bulge in his shorts. His hands tug at your clothing harshly, tearing the fabric apart without a care in the world.

You don’t respond, only gasp at the action - and it drives Hoseok’s wolf crazy. This is what he needed during a time like this; someone who wasn’t going to put up a fight against him. Someone who was going to submit to him like his wolf wanted; someone like you.

“Such soft, pretty skin.” Hoseok mewls, his tongue poking out and dragging along your bare skin. His tongue is so warm and slimy, but you’re overly aroused. “Scent so amazing and tempting, little doe.”

A strangled moan releases from your lips when Hoseok’s tongue dips down between your breast and slides past your stomach. He pries your legs open and growls, eyes completely dark with lust. He inhales your arousal and doesn’t hesitate to dive right in. His tongue laps between your folds hungrily, nails digging into your soft thighs.

Your back arches, legs widening. This was your first time with a Predator, with someone so dominant. Prey’s weren’t quite vanilla as one thought, sure, but a wolf was different.

“H-Hoseok, please.” your hand tugs at his hair, unable to take anymore pleasure. Your eyes flutter open to look between your legs - a mistake. Hoseok was already looking at you, dark eyes zoning into your own. It causes you to freeze, unable to look away from him. Your arousal leaks over his tongue and his lips and like a man starved, he licks it all up.

“Little doe,” Hoseok growls, a trail of saliva dropping right onto your clit. “so sweet and all for me.”

You don’t get to talk, Hoseok is faster than you. Two, long fingers enter you swiftly - deeply. He pumps with vigor, determined to coat himself completely in your sweet arousal. Your pussy is tight around his fingers, squeezing and squelching for more.

“Does it feel good, little doe?” Hoseok questions rhetorically. You’re a moaning mess who’s coating his fingers with sweet honey, of course it felt good.

But, Hoseok was a wolf. He was dominant and confident - he wanted to hear you say it.

“Y-Ye-”

Hoseom bites your inner thigh, teeth sinking into your skin.

“Y-Yes!” you screech, jerking. Your hands find your naked breast, eyes continuing to flutter with pure pleasure.

Hoseok’s fingers were scraping against your walls, hitting your sweet spot with each pump. His teeth grazes past your skin, lips pressing a firm kiss to your clit. His stamina is immaculate but what did you truly expect from a wolf?

Hoseok likes to watch your face as he pleasures you - his tongue flickering against the swollen bud as his fingers ram so deep inside of you that you’re screeching out in ecstasy. He loves to watch the way your eyebrows would scrunch together and the way you would gasp so loudly. His lips and chin are coated in your essence but he does nothing but savor the sweet, submissive taste that he has desperately longed for all week.

Hoseok’s calloused hand slams against your thigh harshly just as he feels it begin to close in on him. His eyes are furious at the audacity that you’d attempt to stop him from devouring you. He forces you against his tongue, two fingers never ceasing their movement. The noises he made we just as lewd as yours; slurping as if it’s a five course meal; and to him, it is.

“So ready to be full of me.” Hoseok groans against your clit, his eyes zoning in on the way your pussy squeezes his fingers, juices sliding down the palms of his hand and hitting his wrist. “Need to prep you first, little doe, before I take what’s mine.”

You weren’t sure you could handle Hoseok fucking you - you were overstimulated now. Tears brim your eyes with the amount of pleasure, and now with the way he spoke to you with such a sultry voice - you weren’t going to leave here alone, surely.

Talking was a bit difficult, but it was evident Hoseok wanted you to speak to him - to show him just how submissive you were. You nod your head and murmur a soft “please” and it’s all Hoseok needs to truly make you cum. Your thighs shake in his grasp and your moans grow higher and higher. They bounce off of the walls of his den and your body begins to shake rapidly beneath him.

Hoseok encourages you to grind against his tongue, to take him just as much as he was taking you, but as of right now you couldn’t - and that was alright with him. You were going through your own high, your senses clouded in Hoseok; his scent looming over you dominantly and all you could do was lay against the soft bed as you cum the hardest you’ve ever had.

Hoseok wish he could have a picture of you like this - maybe even a painting in his den. Just for his eyes only to witness the beauty that was you, naked and covered in your own arousal and sweat and fully submitted to him. It’s a sight he would forever keep in his thoughts.

You’re panting, slightly trembling with overstimulation.

You bring out something in Hoseok - similar to a hunger that could never be satiated. If he could have you on his tongue for hours, he would. The bulge in his underwear is tight and screaming at him to let it be free.

“Little doe,” you hear Hoseok call you, calloused fingers grasping your jaw to look at him. “even as you lay here trembling, your pussy longs to be filled, doesn’t it? I see you clenching around nothing, wishing it was me.”

You moan faintly, nodding your head. Even if you came as hard as you did, you in fact did want Hoseok to fuck you. The idea frightened your deer - you never had wolf and you’re sure he’s never had deer either. But the thought excites you just as you know it excites him.

You, weakly, sit up, eyes blinking innocently at Hoseok. He watches you, unmoving, as your hands settle at his own hips. “Wanna taste you now.” you murmur at him, lashes blinking upwards at him.

Hoseok growls, a deep rumble coming from his chest that startles you. You watch him with wide eyes and wait for him to speak.

“I want to see your sweet lips around me, little doe.” Hoseok allows your hands to dip beneath his shorts. For a moment you’re stuck when you in fact tough his clothed cock. It twitches when it comes in contact with you, an obvious need to be touched.

You gulp when you actually do see it in front of you. It’s large and veiny, the tip leaking with pre-cum and even if it does appear threatening at it’s large size (larger due to the rut and the need to breed), you’re mouth salivates to suck it.

Hoseok stiffens with your tongue licks up his slit, coating your warm tongue with the precum. Your hand wraps around the base and you waste no time in circling your tongue around the tip.

Such warmth and pleasure drives Hoseok crazy and he doesn’t hide his moans or grunts. He’s unmoving, unblinking as he watches you take him into your mouth, deeper and deeper.

You’re positive that you’d come to regret doing this - but you were full of arousal and lust for the man and needed everything he had to offer. You begin to suck onto his cock as if your life depended on it. The tip hits the back of your throat and your eyes water, but it would be a lie to say that you weren’t aroused.

“Such a slutty doe you are.” Hoseok hisses, the filthy sight of you makes him want more. “So frightened by me but still want to be stuff full.”

Hoseok yanks your hair roughly and instantly, you submit - just how he wanted. He begins to thrust inside of you, taking your mouth as his own. He hits the back of your throat with each thrust, a strangle moan meeting him when he gets there. Your thighs clenched together for friction and your pussy does the same, wishing it was this very cock ramming inside of you.

Hoseok's throat growls once more - so beautiful, he thinks. Tears streaming down your eyes and coating your puffy cheeks as he buries his cock deep in your throat. “When I look at you, I can see a sweet little doe in those eyes…” Hoseok was going to cum, never truly meaning to last long. But during his rut, he could cum so many times and still be hard within seconds, so did it truly matter? “...but then I look deeper into these eyes, and I see that devilious side to you.”

You moan, vibrating against his shaft. Hoseok thrusts deeper and deeper until you feel the salty substance reach your tongue. It’s warm and overpowering, but you’re forced to take it all - and never once do you complain or protest.

Hoseok yanks you off of his cock with a pop, saliva and cum dripping down the sides of your lips. Hoseok forces his own lips - so soft, you think - against yours in a needy, dominant kiss.

“Your pussy is calling for me, little doe. Begging to be stuffed with my knot.”

“P-Please…” you murmur weakly, full of need.

Hoseok snarls and within seconds, he flips you onto your front. He forces your legs apart and once more, snarls at just the visual in front of him; a wolf’s dream.

You yelp when you feel a harsh slap onto your ass, stinging. One hand slams against your back to remain firmly against the bed while the other digs its nails onto your waist.

“Gonna fuck you full of my pups, little doe. Breed you just nice.” Hoseok grumbles, speaking more to himself, but you hear every word and damn did it sound nice.

Hoseok centers himself at your entrance, a grunt releasing from his throat. He rubs the tip between your sweet folds and then sighs shakily at how heavenly you feel.

“My sweet little doe…such a slutty body you have.” Hoseok begins to enter you, your walls completely heavenly; so tight, wet and serene.

Hoseok gasps fully when he’s inside of you completely. You do the same, a small sense of discomfort at the size of Hoseok, but you felt amazingly stuff as you had been wanting to.

Hoseok isn’t able to control himself and you’re glad that you prepared for such. He begins to pound into you with such need; deep and fast. His abdomen slams against your ass as he tries to go deeper with each thrust.

You cry out in pleasure and discomfort - it was going to take getting used to getting fucked by someone as dominant as him. But even your moans were that of pure desire, legs widening a bit more just to have in you deeper.

Your pussy is pulsating, Hoseok notes, and it drips all over his bed. He doesn’t stop his assault, unable to. Your moans give him the fuel to continue on, such sweet and submissive moans and wolf needs to hear when claiming what was theirs.

By the time Hoseok was done with you, you were going to be bruised with finger and hand marks. Hoseok grips onto your skin so tightly, but there’s no complaints your way. “Such a sweet pussy taking a wolf so well. A prey could never satisfy you like this, little doe.”

Hoseok wants to hear you say it. A hand claws at your throat and he pushes you back against his bare chest. Your breast bounces in the rhythm of his powerful thrusts. “Say it, little doe. After I’m done here with you, your pussy would only ever want a predator.”

Your hands find his thigh, muscle flexing when you do. It’s a small sign of resistance and that’s something Hoseok didn’t like.

“Stop trying to run, doe. I already got my hands on you, you aren’t going anywhere.”

You came at the words, so hard that you began to shake. Your arousal leaks down your thighs, but Hoseok was nowhere near done with you. He now has the desire to see your face as he fucks you and turns you around fully before him like a ragdoll. Both hands snake beneath your thighs as he enters you, thrusting just as powerful as before.

Your face contorts with pleasure, eyes widening just to snap shut and moans pooling out your sweet lips.

“Pretty little thing,” Hoseok presses open mouth kisses against your face. His bed rocks and shakes vigorously, hitting against the tall window. “all mine to breed. You’d want that, wouldn’t you? To be bred by a wolf.” Hoseok spits, teeth clasping down at delicate skin.

“Y-Yes!” you cry, arms wrapping around his shoulders to bring him close. Your lips find his, both tongues devouring the other. You’ve dealt with many ruts and heats, but this one was far more intimate. Hoseok was a talkative person and it was difficult to not submit to the man.

Hoseok snarls. “Gonna give you all my pups, little doe. Get you nice and round just for me and me only.”

There was something about being predators and their need to breed that now has you wishing he’d do just that. It was the sex speaking to you - and his rut speaking to him - but all you could think about was being so full of his cum that breeding a few of his pups didn’t scare you.

Jung Hoseok was a dangerous man.

“Want your knot.” you screech, your fingernails clawing at his back for him to give you what you wanted. “Want your pups.”

Hoseok was going crazy - his wolf was screaming at him to take you fully, bite that spot on your neck and take you as his; then you’d truly would be having his pups like your fucked out self wanted. But his sane part manages to hold himself back from his wolf claiming you.

“Gonna cum in you.” Hoseok grumbles, pushing you back against the bed and fucking right into you. His cock is so enlarged due to his rut and the knot in his system. A small bulge is seen in your stomach with each thrust and Hoseok had one goal in mind.

You’re unable to speak as Hoseok presses your knees to your shoulders and pounds sloppily in you. His eyes are watching you, unmoving and not blinking. There’s a growl that reaches your ears when Hoseok comes closer. He’s dangerously close to your neck, teeth blaring. Your heart skips a beat, frightened with the sounds his wolf is making and your deer wants to run for its life from the predator.

“Gonna make you mine, little doe.” Hoseok’s voice is deeper than before, his breath tickling your skin. “Only mine to fuck pups into.”

You’re far too consumed in cumming for a third time that you don’t notice the meaning of his words until his teeth are biting the soft, delicate skin of your neck. You scream out in pain, pussy clenching around his cock just as he’s cumming. His cock swells inside of you, his knot pooling deep inside to do what it’s intending on doing.

You remain completely still and silent, your high and submissive nature not allowing you to protest, even if the pressure was becoming unbearable. Hoseok holds you close, his throat growling lowly, tongue twirling on the mark he has left freshly on your skin. When his high dies down, he’s positive he’s going to be in a world of trouble for marking you as his own - and the pain his wolf is going to feel if you reject him.

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clockwayswrites · 7 months

Text

City Pigeons Bleed Green

WC: 1329 Masterpost CW: stitches, blood, canon typical violence, history of experimentation, bad (lbh evil) parent Fentons “I need to get to Bruce Wayne.”

“We should be able to arrange a conversation,” Tim said immediately. None of the shock and concern that Tim must have been feeling seeped through into his words. Jason always admired how even keel Tim could seem.

The kid’s eyes snapped to Tim, brow furrowed in confusion.

Tim just shrugged. “He does good in the city, so do we. Besides, his kids are targeted a lot and sometimes we get involved to help out with that. There’s a line of communication that we can use.”

“So what?” They rasped. “You let every kid who wants to talk to Bruce Wayne get to just ‘cause they’re bleeding out?”

“He’d say that was a good enough reason,” Jason said with certainty. He knew how much money and effort Bruce poured into Make a Wish and the children's hospital.

The kid squinted at him before glancing away. “I don’t think I’m ready to talk to him… like this…”

“Then a safe house for right now,” Tim insisted. “Just like the name says, it’s safe. We can get you patched up and you can rest somewhere you don’t have to look over your shoulder. When you’re feeling better, we’ll set up that meeting.”

“You’ll let a stranger stay at your safe house, just like that?”

“Kid,” Jason said with a sigh. “I don’t think you’re getting it. You’re a very hurt kid. You’re exactly the type of person that we’d do that for. We’re the Bats of Gotham and we protect her people.”

There was that ugly laugh again. “I’m not even from Gotham.”

“You’re here now. That’s all that matters in Gotham,” Jason said. He took the risk and held out his hand. Jason didn’t pray anymore, not since his mother died, but he still silently hoped that the kid would take it. Jason felt certain they wouldn’t make it if they didn’t take it.

The fingers braced against the grimy cinder block wall twitched. Then the hand reached out. The kid collapsed forward into the motion and Jason lunged to catch them. He lifted them gently, worried about how light they were.

“It’s okay, we’ve got you. We’ll make sure you’re safe.”

The kid hid their face against Jason’s jacket. Their words were almost too quiet to hear. “I don’t know if you can.”

“Never underestimate what a stubborn Bat can do, Kid.”

The kid passed out halfway to the safe house. It was probably for the best. Their injuries were… extensive would be too kind of a word.

Tim laid down a plastic sheet on the bed before Jason deposited the kid down on it. The hoodie, which couldn’t be the kid’s at that size, had to be practically peeled off. The main wound that must have been the blood splatter he noticed was the immediate concern, but it was everything else that worried Tim more.

This was more than signs of abuse, this was torture or experimentation. Those scars and wounds cut into the kid’s arms and torso was far too even and controlled. There were other, messier scars that looked like burns and stab wounds. The inside of their elbows were littered with track marks and their hands bruised from what must have been IV ports. The worst for Tim was seeing the metal collar around the kid’s neck, but he knew that wasn’t what was getting Jason. He didn’t need to see Jason’s eyes to tell they were glued to the track marks.

“Go take five and fill a bowl up with warm water,” Tim said.

“Red—”

“Hood,” Tim snapped, cutting off Jason’s growl. Tim had suffered Jason’s bite, the bark didn’t scare him anymore. Besides, they understood each other these days. They were the Bats will willing blood on their hands. “Go take five. They’re not going anywhere and I need your help to patch them up, so go take five and get your head on, okay?”

The fight drained out of Jason like a string had been cut. He nodded and stalked off to the tiny kitchen that was basically an afterthought to the living room. It was hardly their most glamorous safe house but it was close, had two bedrooms, and was secure, despite it’s shoddy appearance.

Tim had the old bandages and scraps of cloth peeled off by the time Jason came back to start cleaning away the green blood.

“We need to get antibiotics for them from Leslie,” Jason said after the worst was cleaned up.

“Definitely. This new wound is from a knife and some of these were wrapped with what I think was an old hospital scrub.”

“Lends credence to…”

“Yeah.”

Jason nodded stiffly. “This needs stitches.”

“Luckily I think bandages are fine for everything else,” Tim said.

He snapped off the nitrate gloves and put on a fresh pair. He carefully numbed the skin around the wound while he waited for Jason to be in a spot to hold the kid down should they wake up. The first few stitches went fine. Tim took the time to be extra neat. The kid didn’t need any worse scars because of his sloppy work.

Tim had just started on the forth one when the kid started to stir. They twitched and whimpered in their sleep. Jason pressed down carefully to keep them from moving too much.

“No, Mom, please, I’m your son! I’m not— Don’t… not again. I’ll be good…”

Tim looked up at the impassive red helmet.

“I’m good. I have him. Just keep stitching so we can get him tucked in to bed.”

“Okay,” Tim said and got back to work. It was hard to ignore the whimpered words and everything they implied, but Tim needed to focus. There would be time to start looking into everything after.

It was as he was cleaning up that Jason threw a wrench into things.

“Don’t run his DNA.”

“What?” Tim hissed, rounding on Jason. “That is clearly Bruce’s kid in there!”

“Exactly. It’s obviously his kid, there’s no doubt in that with the way he looks. And just as obviously he’s been tortured or experimented on. Don’t you think he’s been stripped of his privacy enough?”

All the fight bled out of Tim an instant. “Fuck. I didn’t think… I just wanted to…”

“I know. You wanted to help by solving this, but that’s not what this kid needs right now. So hold off until he feels safe enough to consent, okay?”

“Okay, no, you’re right, I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine, Red,” Jason said, ruffling Tim’s hair with a wet hand. “Creepy stalking is just your way of caring, I get it. Just pull back a little this time. You can focus on that collar he’s wearing right now.”

Tim shuddered. “That thing needs to go. Am I staying on watch then?”

“If you’re fine with that. I’ll get Oracle to call the others to the Cave.”

“Sure,” Tim said. He didn’t want to miss that conversation, but someone had to stay with the kid and he was a better choice to get the collar off. “Just make sure I have a comm line in.”

“Of course. Can’t have you missing out on us discussing the old man’s sex life.”

“Ugh, never mind, I don’t need a comm line!”

“Too late!” Jason called out with a laugh as he headed for the door.

Tim flicked him off just to do so.

After double checking that the place was secure, Tim pulled out a tool bag. At least he could start by testing the collar for explosive residue or other traps that would keep Tim from taking it off. The thought of the collar being rigged made him sick to his stomach, but it fit too well with the canvas of scars that the kid bore.

“Who did this to you, Kid?” Tim asked, even though he knew he wouldn’t get a response. “And how soon can Hood put a bullet in their head for you?”

--- AN: So here's a little more of this for Trauma Tuesday! The Reds are very concerned! I'm still having fun writing a Jason and Tim who get along and understand each other in a way the other 'we don't kill' Bat's don't, threats of murder and all.

Sorry if there are lots of mistakes (I don't need them corrected, ty), it's been a bad fatigue spell here. Still hope you enjoyed it and stay delightful, darlings!

(Oh, and there's another continuation to the OG threaded to it by chroma if you want a different take!)

Masterpost you can subscribe to, as I no longer tag people!

#dp x dc #batpham #trauma tuesday #city pigeons

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mistydeyes · 7 months

Note

This is my first time doing this!!!!! can you please do 141 with a rich reader! Like she buys them cars,supplies,homes,etc but not in a sugar momma way like “ I’m make money……..and my love language is gift giving” like imagine them walking into her house mansion and is like “this is 10 times bigger than my flat building” and she’s like “oh shush….besides this is your home now” or when she picks them up to go to the pub she pulls up in their dream car and their like “love your car” she like “it’s yours” and throws the key. And when they give her gifts she ADORES them (it’s some purfum she likes) she’s just loves spoiling her baby and they don’t know how handle Being so special! CAN YOU PLEASE MAKE A REACT ON THIS ITS BEEN ROTTING MY MIND

hehe thank you so much for requesting! we love expensive taste and a woman who's love language is gift gifting!!

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summary: When the 141 met you, they had no idea what kind of life you came from. However from extravagant vacations to luxury vehicles, you make sure to treat your man right.

pairing: Taskforce 141 x fem!reader

warnings: swearing

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price

Looking at John, you can tell he enjoys the more expensive taste in things. Holidays are always a joy for you both as you spend your hard-earned salary on practical yet extravagant gifts. For your anniversary, you wanted to impress. Earlier in the year for your birthday, he had gotten you a bottle of Baccarat Rouge 540 and you were over the moon. It had it's own shelf in your home and he always made sure to compliment the rich, sultry scent when you wore it. This inspired you as you dragged John to the bright red building in Grasse. You had spent the last week in the south of France, seeing the sights and enjoying the extravagance of wine and pastries. He had been wondering where you were going as you maneuvered through the streets and eventually walked up the path. "This is the final part of a French tour," you smiled as you entered, "a perfume-making class!" As he chuckled at the idea, you checked yourselves in with the minimal amount of French you knew. "What made you pick this?" he asked as you waited for your perfume instructor. You looked around at the various creations and bottles that glistened in the afternoon sun. "You always talk about wanting to find the perfect scent," you commented, "especially when you have one of your fancy military balls or ceremonies." He nodded as he cozied himself onto the leather couch. "Well looks like this is the perfect place to do so," he smiled, kissing you on the forehead. "Don't worry, I'll make sure to pick an expensive-smelling one for my luxurious husband."

soap

"This can't be right," Johnny mumbled as he arrived at your address. You told him you lived in the English countryside and he expected a cottage fit for a granny. He was not expecting a castle that looked like it stretched various football fields. The exterior was extravagant and he was calculating the price of your marbled columns before you opened the door. "Johnny, a pleasure to have you," you smiled as you let him into the foyer. He took a minute to look at the not one but two staircases you had leading to the upper floor. Furthermore, the interior looked like a smaller version of Versailles. He thought he knew luxury when he saw Price's flat but that was a shoe closet compared to this. "Are you alright?" you questioned, putting a comforting hand on his shoulder. "You live here?" he asked and gasped at the way his voice echoed amongst the mansion. You laughed for a moment before looking back up at him. "Yes, I do," you replied as if it was a silly question, "it's quite nice." He turned back to you with a shocked face. "This is more than nice," he said, gesturing to your extravagant home, "I was not picturing this during the drive." You blushed a little at the realization that this wasn't the typical home he had been accustomed to. "Well do you want a house tour?" you offered and he immediately took the offer, "let's start with the first library." "There's multiple?"

gaz

Kyle looked at his watch as he wondered where you were. "The missus running late?" Price asked as he searched for his car keys. "Probably had a meeting or something," Kyle said, looking back down at his phone, "perks of dating a CEO I guess." Just as Price offered him a ride, a silver Rolls-Royce Spectre came revving in front of the two awe-struck men. "Sorry I'm late boys," you said as you got out, "hope Kyle stayed out of trouble long enough, John." "He's a good one, Y/N," Price replied as he gave you a quick hug. He smiled back at you before waving off and walking over to his own vehicle. "This a new company car?" Kyle asked as he examined the pristine exterior and the practically silent hum of the EV engine. You had a small smile on your face as he tapped the front of the car and looked into the windows. "It's new but definitely not company-issued," you smiled, wrapping your arms around his torso. "Didn't think you needed a new car," he continued and the suspense was killing you. As you opened the car door and sat in the red leather passenger seat, Kyle looked at you dumbfounded. "You want me to drive?" he questioned as he moved the seat back into a comfortable position. "Of course, babes," you said, practically bursting with happiness, "you should drive your own car home." There was a brief moment of mixed screaming and excitement as he realized this was his. Once he was finished (and you stopped laughing), you turned on the seat warmers. "Go ahead," you smiled, "take us home in your new toy."

ghost

Simon was never one to gorge himself on the finer things in life. He would save 80% of his paycheck and spend the rest at the grocer's or off-license. He often would have to hold you back from ordering items for him or buying something at Armani on a whim. "Return it." you could hear Simon say behind you and you sheepishly closed your laptop as you knew you had been caught. "You need new jeans though," you tried to convince him but he shook his head. "I could get a pair of Wranglers for less than £47.50 on sale," he responded and that's how most conversations ended. However, you had spent your time finding him an expensive gift that you knew he would value. "What's this?" Simon asked as you pushed over a small parcel. "I know you don't celebrate your birthday but I got you something," you smiled before sitting down with him on the couch. He shook his head as he ripped open the packaging. Inside was a small box that depicted a pair of sturdy-looking earplugs. "For when you exercise or go on runs," you commented, "they're Beats Fit Pro." He opened up the box and you watched as he adjusted them into his ear. "You know I can just use those wired ones," he said before trying them out. You shook his head as he admired the noise-canceling quality. He was enjoying the gift no matter how much he said it was unnecessary. "Well if you don't like them I can always return them," you joked, reaching your hand across the couch to get them before he pulled it away, "yeah, that's what I thought."

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risuola · 14 days

Text

▶ ONE BEDROOM?! — a short memory about how you found yourself sharing a bed with two of your best friends.

contents: college!au, roommates to be, fluffy, silly Satoru, caring Suguru and all that jazz — 0,9k words

a/n: feel free to send me suggestions for entries of this series! any specific situations you think might be funny? any topics that sound interesting to you? let me know!

𝙇𝙊𝙑𝙀 𝙈𝙀𝘿𝙇𝙀𝙔 | series masterlist

“Alright, I found one,” Satoru informed, a grin of mischief tugging on his lips and both you and Suguru knew immediately that there are some gears turning below the mop of white hair of your best friend. “Near our uni, rent’s cheaper than any other we looked at, it looks nice, and there’s even a balcony for the addict. Available anytime.”

It sounded too good to be true, really. You’ve been looking for weeks now, desperate to find the right balance between the price and quality and it turned out to be the hardest thing you had to face in your lives. It was honestly a nightmare, turned out that you were way too late to find a rental with three rooms in the college area – everything was already taken and you were forced to scratch the idea of all having separate rooms. Two bedrooms, turned out, were just as hard to find. You were slowly coming to terms that you’re gonna have to either spend three hours in metro every day just to get in and out of uni or pay an unreasonable amount of money just to live even moderately close. In your head, you already saw yourself searching for the second job.

“Where’s the catch?” Suguru’s raised an eyebrow, his mind analytic as always and his questioning tone matched your thoughts perfectly. He wrapped one arm around your waist and reached with the other to snatch a phone out of Gojo’s hands, but the snow-whites grin grew even wider as he dodged the attempt. You could feel your friend taking a deeper breath behind your back, you were seated next to him, resting against his body whilst Satoru was on the floor, with his head comfortably on your thigh. “Is it one of those ‘rent a room along with ten other students’ kind of deal?”

“Nah, it’s a separate apartment. It’s not big, by any means, but as far as I’m concerned, it should be more than enough for us,” you reached your hand, but instead of giving you his phone, Gojo put his chin on your palm, smiling with the typical amount of cat-like mischief. “In fact,” he said, pulling the lollipop out of his mouth with a loud pop and threatening to lick you. The trail of sticky sugar covering his lips in a reddish tint from the cherry, his favorite, flavored candy. “I already sent a message to the renter.”

“Toru, spill it,” you pushed, pinching his cheek and with a theatrical roll of his pretty blue eyes, he put his phone into your hand, sticking the candy back into his mouth. You leaned back against Suguru’s chest again and with his head on your shoulder, you swiped through the pictures of the offer. “It… does look nice?”

“Sus,” the brunette mumbled, reaching to swipe over the screen with his own finger. “Very sus. What’s wrong with it?”

“Nothing’s wrong with it,” Satoru said in fake offense and got up to his knees to peek on what you two were doing, sticking his nose in front of the screen so aggressively that you had to push him away. “But—”

“Wait, is there one bedroom in this apartment?” You noticed. The pictures you were analyzing all showed the same room and the living area with joined kitchen, the bathroom, and again the same room, and some weird kind of storage? and again the same room.

“That explains a lot,” Suguru laughed lightly and leaned back again.

“We can see the place in an hour” Satoru showed off his pearly whites. “Come on, let’s at least see it, yeah?”

“I guess we can see it,” you gave it a nod. “The price is really nice.”

“Alright… so let’s get going.”

And so, all of you hopped on the bikes, you behind Satoru, and took the ride to see the apartment. Turned out, it really was perfect. Despite the apartment having just one bedroom, it was spacious enough to fit all three of you. The bed was so big it could easily fit five and during the many years of friendship, you and two of your friends shared way too many single person mattresses, sandwiched and squished together to think twice about it. The odd storage room seemed to be a perfect candidate to become a guest room (later called: a fuck room).

“It’s nice, isn’t it?” Satoru grinned, looking at both of you as he was bouncing his ass on the bed, testing it as if he was already the owner.

“It is nice, I’ll admit,” you said, looking at Suguru to hear his opinion, but the man seemed to be thinking still. “Sug?”

“For me, it’s perfect. But,” he looked at you, a concern clearly written in his eyes, “is it alright with you?”

Geto has a way of constantly reminding you why you love him. He doesn’t look like it, in fact, he looks quite intimidating to anyone who doesn’t know him, but to you he’s just the sweetest, most caring friend you could ever wish for. If anyone was to worry about your comfort, it was him because it is true that all three of you slept together already, sharing sheets and being as close and personal as it was possible, but a random sleepover doesn’t equal sleeping with them every single day.

“It’s fine with me, don’t worry,” you reassured him, squeezing his bicep playfully.

“If it’s fine with you, then I guess we have a place.”

taglist: @kibananya, @r0ckst4rjk, @rixo-19, @soraya-daydreams

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 2 months

Note

I’m so sorry for this guys but

AITA for telling someone their horse was masturbating?

Basically does what it says on the tin. For those of you who don’t know horses can masturbate. It’s most common in male horses under the age of three who have not had their testicles removed and who are confined to a stall or small pen and get really bored. They typically grow out of the behaviour once they’re older or given more freedom. Some owners try to train them to stop it from happening but most just ignore it because it’s better than other boredom behaviours like cribbing and wind-sucking (both are SFW to Google btw).

Anyway, I’m a groom and stable hand, mid-twenties now but been working at my job since I was fifteen (part-time then, now full-time). The stable I work at boards horses and gives lessons but also offers training for young horses, so we get a lot of OTTB here – that is “off-the-track Thoroughbreds”, so ex-racing horses that people typically buy cheap and then retrain to be show jumpers or dressage horses or whatever. One such horse is Bert, who is the horse in question in this situation.

Bert has excellent bloodlines but he sucked as a racing horse so he was sold OTT. The man who bought him, I’ll just call him John, knows nothing about horses – he’s a total beginner in every way, has never ridden and pays other people (including me) to take care of Bert, but claims to be an expert in everything equine because Bert cost him so much money (I don’t know the actual amount but he’s in the section of the stable where the $20,000 Warmbloods are boarded so I’m assuming around that amount which is a lot yes but also not the most expensive horse we’ve had here).

Anyway the actual story – I’m at work cleaning out stalls when John walks past, he completely ignores me as he always does so I do the same and get back to work. A few minutes later he goes sprinting back in the opposite direction which I thought was weird but whatever, I kept mucking, until I heard him shouting for help. I went out into the aisle and he’s there shouting at another groom and demanding to know the emergency vets number (it was a weekday morning btw, so he didn’t need the emergency vet, he just needed the regular vet but that’s meaningless anyway). I went over to see what was happening and he tells me his horse (Bert) is ‘acting weird’ and needs a vet immediately, so I offer to go see Bert for myself and then call the vet if necessary.

So basically yeah Bert was masturbating. Had an erection, was rocking about rubbing it on his tummy, and did NOT want anyone going in his stall or touching him. John points at Bert and says something like “see, he’s sick!” and then tells me Bert tried to attack him when he entered the stall and I just, I dunno, I cough and say that Bert is fine and just wants some privacy right now, figuring that the obvious erection might be a giveaway as to what’s happening? But John turned to me and blurts out word for word “are you an actual retard” and then starts cursing at me and telling me I know nothing and Bert needs a vet etc and so on. I kind of blanked on everything else he said after he called me a retard to be honest because WTF? I don’t really know what went on in my brain in the next few seconds but I ended up shouting – yes, shouting, extremely loudly, it fucking echoed in the stable – “he doesn’t need a vet because HE’S JUST MASTURBATING” in John’s face and then walking back to the stall I’d been mucking.

As I got back to the stall I heard laughter from a couple of aisles over. Apparently my co-workers and some riders who were there had all heard me shout and found it hilarious, and that made me laugh too because it was so freaking ridiculous. I honestly kind of forgot the entire encounter afterwards because we had a horse who actually needed a vet a little while later and yeah, John and Bert just slipped my mind.

I didn’t remember until that afternoon when my boss came to see me and said he’d had a complaint from John who wanted me fired. I did not get fired but I did get ‘warned’ (just a formality, my boss didn’t actually punish me but wanted me to act like I had been if John questioned me later, which he never did). John complained that I’d treated him like an idiot, spoken down to him, and “acted above my position” (those were the exact words he used) causing people to laugh at him. I explained the entire situation to my boss, who also laughed, and that was that, nothing else ever came of it aside from my co-workers telling the story of me shouting HE’S MASTURBATING so loudly it scared a pony into jumping so suddenly that it farted to everyone they possibly could.

Since then John has ignored me even more than before which I honestly consider a blessing, and I would leave this situation thinking I’m NTA except that one of my co-workers brought their boyfriend to the stable recently and when they introduced us the boyfriend said something like ‘oh right, you’re the asshole who talks down to people who don’t know everything about horses’ and yeah. My co-worker was blindsided by that as well and we basically both said you don’t have to know everything about horses to know what an erection means, but since then I’ve been wondering if I am TA in this situation? Like, clearly there were better ways to tell John what his horse was doing, but he called me a retard and also I get paid to take care of horses not to teach the birds and the bees to fifty year olds so I don’t know. I’ll let Tumblr decide.

So, AITA for telling John his horse was masturbating?

Additional info: I'm on a rota with other stable hands so I sometimes groom Bert, muck his stall, attend to his vet/farrier appointments, give him worming paste, etc and so on. I am not his trainer and have no input into when he gets to leave his stall. I've mentioned to my boss a couple of times that he boredom stims and should be in a paddock with other young horses, but John refuses to agree to that for reasons I don't know. My boss has since spoken to Bert's trainer who is now trying to convince John to let Bert have more time outdoors.

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole #slur cw

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grippingbeskar · 2 years

Text

hands off | matt murdock

matt murdock x fem!reader

word count: 3.6k

warnings: ADULT CONTENT MINORS DNI (mutual masturbation, mxf intercourse, dirty talk) swearing, established relationship

a/n: okay. OKAY! okay. be gentle with this one because it’s my first matt fic!!! also, i saw this video on tik tok about ppl doing this game thing, but idk who posted it first and i don’t have the videos, but that’s where the dies comes from. also this is literally just smut, don’t even look at me ITS BEEN A LONG WEEK. okay bye. literally posting this and running away to sleep bc i am afraid BYE.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Sooo? You like it?” You keep to your side of the couch as Matt brings the glass up to his mouth for a second time. He hums, swallowing and licking his lips, and you have to bite down on your own to control yourself.

Asshole.

“It’s…”

“What?”

“Sweet.” His voice rumbles. You think you should have tied yourself down or something, because there’s no way you can win this stupid bet if he was going to keep teasing you like this. He wasn’t even doing anything, really. Everything he did seemed to turn you on in some way or the other, especially now, as the alcohol starts to kick in, warmth spreading through your face, flowing all the way down.

It was your idea; this whole bet. You and Matt had been together for a while now, and the longer you spent with him you realised how much of a fucking tease he was. So, in your muddied brain, you decided two could play at that game, even though you were almost certain you would fail miserably. You were, however, planning on giving him a run for his money. Or your money, considering how you had both put two hundred dollars on the table for the winner.

The rules were simple. You drink an entire bottle of wine- your favourite brand, hence the taste testing Matt was currently being put through, and sit on opposite ends of the couch. The first one to break - to touch the other in any way, loses. You were notoriously… frisky, when you drank wine, and Matt thought the game was going to be innocent enough until you started popping more bottles.

“Good sweet or bad sweet?” You say, and he empties the glass, holding it out for you to pour him another.

“I’d give it a good 7 out of 10. I’ve tasted better.” He hears the exasperated gasp of shock, and smiles in a way that’s so classically Matthew that your heart skips a beat. He probably hears that too.

“This is the best thing I have ever had. What could possibly taste better than this?!” You pour him another glass that he downs half of quickly, eager to get to the good part.

“I can think of a few things.” Your breath hitches in your throat, and he smirks, taking another sip.

“That feels like cheating.” Your entire body ignites at the shift in mood, and you nearly shiver when his hand trails along the edge of the couch, moving dangerously close to your shoulder, then retreating back.

“Hey, you said no touching. Nothing in the rules about telling you how much I love your-“

“Okay! Okay. I get it. Finish your glass, cheater.” He downs the rest obediently, placing the glass gently on the table, right next to the stack of fifty dollar notes you had pooled. He was smirking - clearly thinking he was already ten moves ahead of you, but you had a couple tricks up your sleeve to win this thing. Well, one trick.

“So, how do you want to do this?”

“What do you mean?” You finish your glass and get rid of it, the empty wine bottles clanking together somewhere on the floor.

“Well, obviously you are going to lose, so do you want to just give up now, or do we have to play this whole little game first?” Typical. Complete confidence, right from the start.

“Listen, Murdock. One thing you’ll learn about me tonight, is that no matter how incredibly attractive you look right now, I am very competitive. Very. Competitive. Especially when it comes to money, because I am also very broke.” He laughs again, his head hanging back off the couch. “Besides, who says you won’t break first?”

“I’m pretty sure I can take you apart from right here.” His voice has dropped an octave. You recognise that tone in an instant. He only talks to you like that, all commanding and a little mocking; when he’s fucking you. Or about to fuck you. Your whole body reacts to him - you don’t even have a choice in the matter, it’s like a bell rings and you’re switched into that mode. All he needs to do is talk to you like that, and you want to get on your knees and forget all about this stupid bet and-

“Am I right? You think I can make you all sweet and desperate just talking to you?” Yes. He could. He knew it, because he’d done it before, but you weren’t ready to give him the satisfaction. Not when the game had barely started.

“Who says we’re just gonna talk?” You settle back, letting your legs stretch just this side of your half of the couch.

“Is that a threat, honey?” The endearment mixed with his slightly rough tone has you tightening every muscle in your body, and if you didn’t get a hold of yourself you might as well just shreds your money now.

“Just got a few ideas, that’s all.” You blink innocently, and he scoffs.

“I promise we’ll do all the things I know your pretty little head is thinking about right now. All you have to do is give in to it.” The way he’s sitting is so cocky; if he wasn’t so fucking sexy you think you’d slap him. Arms stretched out, one dangling over the back, the other strung lazily across his stomach, making a perfect line down to where his legs are spread as wide as possible. You don’t miss how easy it would be for you to slot yourself in to that spot, to be surrounded by him.

“Hmm. Tempting.” He shrugs, almost saying ‘I know.’ “Or, you could come over here.”

“Now why would I do that?” He asks, leaning forward. You start as slow as possible. This was really the only idea you had to get him to break. Maybe if you threatened it, alluded to it enough, he would forget all about the money and the bet and jump on you.

“Maybe I’ve got something to sweeten the deal.” You trail a slow fingertip up your leg, past your knee and creeping it along your thigh. The fabric of your skirt scrunches up as you get higher, and Matt’s head straightens when he hears it.

“What are you doing?” Still, his voice is that low, gravelly sound that sends shivers up your spine, and you bite your lip to stop a smile before answering him.

“You know how wine makes me.” He knew very, very well, being the object of all your wine-induced fantasies. “I’m all hot, and if you aren’t going to help me…”

“Don’t.” He practically growls, and you let out a breathy laugh as you use your other hand to pull up your skirt completely. He may not be able to see you - but he knows exactly what your doing and how your doing it. He can hear the way you’re moving, the skips in your heartbeat as your finger trails higher and higher. The smell of you, how it changes as you get closer to the wetness between your thighs. He knows. And he looks like he hates it.

Jaw set, he grinds his teeth as you ignore his simple demand. It wasn’t that he didn’t like you touching yourself - he loved it; encouraged it, even, but he wanted to be there for it. Involved in it. If you ever needed that specific kind of relief, he wanted to be the one to give it to you. Even on the few times he’s been away, he’s sent you videos, called you and made sure he was the only one who pushed you over the edge. His name on your tongue as you came to the thought of him, to his words or his pictures. He always wants to be the one. And he always is.

He also has never not been able to touch you, because if you knew one thing, it’s that Matt Murdock was not a man that shared what was his. Especially not you, even with your own hand.

“Stop.” Matt manages to say, and you hum, relishing in the attention he’s focusing on you. You spread your legs a little wider, making yourself comfortable. “That’s cheating.”

“Nothin’ in the rules about touching myself, Matty.” You breathe, and then gasp as your finger brushes over your most sensitive spot, still covered by your lace underwear. “Unless you want to come over here and make me stop?”

“I know what you’re doing. You’ll have to try a little harder than that, sweetheart.” His face is set so hard, like how you’ve seen him in the court room. Focused, not betraying a single emotion on that sweet face of his. You were going to wipe that stoic look off his face one way or the other.

“I’m gonna take these off.” You narrate, hooking your fingertips under the seam of your underwear, and start to slowly pull them down your legs. As you get about halfway, the fabric bunching over your knees, you sigh sweetly. “Help me out, baby?”

He exhales in a short, sharp laugh. He wasn’t technically touching you, and you both knew it was the closest he could get without forfeiting. Leaning forward, he used one hand to grab the part of your underwear not touching any skin, and starts pulls them down. The soft material slips over your shins and calves, and you know he’s going slow on purpose. You lift your feet up so he can remove them fully, and you watch intently as his thumb brushes over his new prize.

“The purple ones?” He recognises the fabric and you moan out a ‘mhmm’. “My favourite.”

“I know.” You let your legs fall open again, and you could of sworn you heard a small sound come from him at the movement. A crack in the ice. It ignites your confidence, and makes you want to keep going. Keep pushing. “Wore them for you.”

“Such a good girl, all the time. You wouldn’t be this mean. Not to me, right?” The words were sweet as honey. You loved when he spoke to you like that - with praise and a little bit of authority. It made you squirm, but you had to hold it together a bit longer. String him out a little further. You just moan again, your hand finding it’s destination, one finger running up and down in between your legs, brushing over your clit lightly. Just how he teases you. You see his face change. “You’re going to regret this.”

“But it feels so good, Matty.” His grip on the back of the couch tightens.

“Better than me?” You shake your head vehemently, appeasing his ego and moaning a negative incase he can’t figure out your answer from the sound of your movement.

“Nothin’ better than you.”

“I know, baby. Why don’t you let me take care of you? Come just a little closer, and I’ll make it all better.” Your toes curl, and you start to make small, tight circles right over your soft centre, nerves alight and sending shocks up your entire body. His voice is all you’ll need to get there, you just need him to keep talking.

“I can’t. You know I can’t.” Your jaw falls open, no longer able to hold it together. “Just want you so bad.”

“If you want me so bad, come here.” His tone is a little more demanding. Frustrated. Stubborn. Another crack. You resist the urge to smile.

“Will you- will you tell me? What you’d do if you could touch me?” He sits up, unzipping his pants and shoving them off aggressively. His erection is impossible to ignore, and your mouth waters at the sight of it when he pulls his boxers down and lets himself free.

“That’s what you want? You want me to tell you all the things I’m going to do to you when you break?” You don’t miss the cockiness in his words, but you just moan again, too lost in the feeling of your fingers against your clit. “Fuck. Okay - okay, slow down.”

You listen, obedient even when defiant. He can hear the sounds of your hands against your arousal slow to about half the speed, and the orgasm that was growing in your stomach is now only being stoked, your legs jolting every time you brush against your clit.

“Good fucking girl. I always go slow first, don’t I?”

“Mhmm.” You moan out, and he chuckles. The fucker was laughing at you. Pay back was going to be a bitch. You were really about to give in, then. Not now, though. If he was stubborn, you were going to beat him at that game, too.

“That’s it. Nice and slow for me. Want you all warmed up when you make yourself cum on my cock.” Oh. God - maybe you couldn’t outlast him. It was those kinds of words, sung to you in a voice so low and clear it was impossible to listen to anything else, that was what did it for you. What undid you every time. Fuck being stubborn.

“Oh God, Matt. Please - c-can I go faster?” He wraps his hand around the base of his cock, and you are mesmerised as he pumps his hand just once, eyebrows furrowed.

“Yeah, sweetheart. You can go a little faster. Since you asked me so nice. I’d do it for you.” You speed up, the fire in your tummy getting more aggressive as soon as you indulge the feeling. He pumps up and down once more, and his face screws up a little. Not in pleasure entirely, but something a little uncomfortable. At first you think it might be the situation, but then you look down, and recognise his problem. Your submissive side instantly takes over, your brain only knowing to do what you knew he wants. What he needs.

“You want me to help you, baby?” Matt swallows as he feels you get closer, but nods just once, taking his hand off himself. You hover above him, making sure he can feel the heat of your breath kissing the sensitive head of his cock as you angle down closer. God - what you wouldn’t give to wrap your mouth around him right now. You miss the taste of him - the feel of his hand threaded through your hair, how he tangles himself into it to feel the most of you that he possibly can.

Slowly, you let your spit drip down his length, alleviating the uncomfortable feeling of his dry hand. He doesn’t move, just lets you take your time getting him as wet as you are. Matt’s chest rises and falls so fast you think he might pass out, and his head is hung back so far that you can’t see his face from this angle. You bet it’s screwed up, and his mouth is open a little. He always looks so good when he’s strung out.

You start to retreat, careful not to brush against him as you sit back on your half of the couch, satisfied with your work. His hand wraps around his cock as soon as he feels your body heat move away, and the pain once etched on his face is replaced by only pure pleasure. The sight of him has you quickly returning your hand to your pussy, matching the pace he sets.

“Thank you.” He croaks out, and you silently high five yourself for how fucking ruined he sounds.

“Your welcome.” You sound exactly the same.

“God - I want to fuck you so badly right now.” He sighs, moaning your name as he starts pumping his hand harder, hips bucking irregularly. “You know it’d feel so good.”

“It would. You always fuc-“ You cry out as a wave of pleasure suddenly hits your chest, the new rhythm he was setting on himself having you seeing stars. “Always feel so good. Miss having you inside me.”

“Come here. Now.” He says through his teeth, and you just keep moaning out his name. He tries a new approach. “Baby. Baby, please come here. I’ll -I’ll let you cum so many times you won’t remember your fucking name. Just give it up already. I know you want to.” A new crack of determination nuzzles its way through the overwhelming pleasure at his words. Maybe it’s because it’s not actually Matt touching you right now that you are able to form a thought, but his words have you speeding up. Let you come.

Asshole.

“Fuck, Matty. I’m so cl-close - I think I’m gonna-“

“Don’t you fucking dare.” He almost shouts, hand pumping furiously at his cock as he cuts you off. It almost looks like it hurts, and maybe it does a little, but the sounds of his hand moving against himself with your spit is making your brain go fuzzy. Trying your best to keep up with him, your back arches off the couch and you turn your head to the couch cushion.

“Can’t stop, feels too good I just-“ The burn in your arm is secondary to the release you were chasing, and it was so close. You knew what you needed. He had gone silent, because he knew, too. If he spoke, that would be it. He had such a hold on you that all it would take would be a few well placed words and you would crumble in front of him, and for the first time, it was the last thing he wanted.

“Slow down. Right now.” Your back was arching off the couch, and it was an effort not to stretch your legs out. Bunched up on your end, your eyes were glued to Matthew, his abs flexing hard and free hand still fisting the couch, white knuckled. “Do not fucking finish without me.”

The tone of his voice was so low and harsh, he wasn’t meaning to but he was only making it worse. Teetering on the edge, you couldn’t seem to stop yourself from talking.

“I wish you were touching me right now. Your hands feel so rough sometimes and I always think about it, think about how good it feels on me.” Your eyes were squeezed shut, the words flowing out of you from the darkest parts of your tipsy mind.

“Baby just-“ His hand gets faster, you can hear it, his restraint snapping little by little. “You just gotta come over here. Please.” You try to block out how hot he sounds begging for a glimpse of you, so you keep talking yourself through it, thinking of the things he would say if he was fucking you.

“I want you to fuck me through this couch, make me feel you for days like you always do. Want you to…” A gasping breath cuts you off, and it takes you a moment to regain your focus, the pleasure nearly cutting off your air supply making you hiccup.

“Finish your sentence. What do you want?” He was sitting straight up, leaning so close that if you moved and inch you’d feel him. You don’t think you’ve ever wanted him to touch you as badly as you wanted it right now - and that was fucking saying something.

You’d give it one more minute.

You think you can hold out for that long. One single minute of keeping yourself on the edge, one more minute to see if you can break Murdock like he breaks you every time. If you reached a minute and he wasn’t either buried between your legs or inside of you, you think you would implode.

“I- I want you to fuck me like you did when you came home last week. Leave a mark so I could feel it for days and-“

“That’s it. Keep fucking talking.” Your eyes open for a second and he’s kneeling, the hand on the top of the couch right next to your head. You hadn’t even heard him move, but now he was practically hanging over you, almost between your legs. Maybe your words effect him just like his do to you. “You sound so pretty. Keep talking for me, okay?”

“Matty, please just touch me. I need you to mmmmfuck- make me feel good.” He chokes out a desperate sound, and you shut your eyes again, no longer able to bare the sight above you if you couldn’t touch him.

“You need me?” You whine below him, nodding and making sure he knows just how bad he was right. It was a low blow, one you knew would make him even more desperate. Those simple words always got you what you wanted, no matter how long he had been playing with you. “Yeah, you fucking need me. Just need me to touch you so bad. Mark you up. Bet you’d cum as soon as I slid inside you, huh? Already so wet, I can fucking hear it.”

“Need you. Please.” You wheeze, and hear another choked sound leave his mouth. The couch shifts underneath you. Every nerve in your body was begging for him- you were begging for him, a string of pleases mixed with his name. If only either of you was less stubborn this stupid game would have been over long ago.

“You sound good like that. Begging for me. Keep going, tell me how bad you need it.”

“I’ll do whatever you want. Whate- Whatever you want. Just please. Please, please, please…” You sounded like you were having a tantrum, so close on the edge you were almost sobbing his name in ecstasy.

This was it. It probably hadn’t been a minute but you just couldn’t hold out any longer. Fuck the bet, fuck the stupid money. Nothing was worth not feeling him, having him just out of reach, you were so fucking close-

Matt’s hand brushes against your cheek, tucking a lock of your hair behind your ear, and his thumb wipes away a tear you hadn’t realised had fallen on your cheek. It was soft; gentle.

He kisses you softly, and his hand takes over the work, replacing your own and keeping that hard, tight pace on your clit. The feeling was earth shattering - the difference between your hand and his somehow night and day, and when you kiss him back, you realise he just lost. He lost, not so he could fuck you, but so he could kiss you.

“I’m right here, sweetheart. Hm?” He murmurs, the hot air of his breath fanning over your forehead as his hand works at you, and all you could do what sob his name. “Cum for me. I earnt it.”

With that, he slides himself inside of you, and everything turns white.

“Fuck - yes.” You moan out and your cumming as soon as he hits the deepest part of you. He’s suddenly everywhere - an arm under your arched back pulling you against his chest, his mouth on yours muffling your wrecked moans of pleasure, his cock buried inside of you, hitting you hard and fast and desperate; just how you feel.

He isn’t far behind you, giving you exactly what you wanted and finishing inside, so deep you’d feel him for fucking weeks after this. He was making noises you’d never heard from him before - nearly whining with how much he needed you, his whole body tense as you ran your hands over every part you could feel, while your other hand scrunched into his hair.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” Is all he was saying into your mouth, fucking you - using you to get through his high while simultaneously working you through yours. His lips moved to your neck, biting and kissing you all over. It was borderline territorial, and you were a whimpering mess underneath him, pinned to the couch taking whatever he wanted to give you and praying for more.

His hips eventually began to stutter in their pace, then slow to a stop- minutes or hours after he came. Time hardly registered, just him finally surrounding you like you’ve been wanting.

“Matt. Matt-“ His mouth was still attached to your neck, and you couldn’t imagine what you looked like, but it filled you with a sort of pride. You almost wanted him to keep going, but you wanted him to kiss you more, so you tugged on the strands of hair threaded in your hands. “Matt. You-“

“I know, baby. Don’t move.” The words echo through you, the command exactly the one you said to him earlier. He slowly slips out of you, never taking his hands off your body, and in one movement curls you up and pulls you completely to his side of the couch.

Finally, you can stretch out, your muscles like jelly as your legs tangle with his. Your head leans back to rest against his chest, which is still rising and falling too fast for normal. Admittedly, so is yours, as well as the occasional twitch in your legs from the pleasure dissipating through your body. Strong arms wrap around your chest and tummy, holding you tight, and he leans his head down to kiss your cheek.

“We are never doing that again.” He mumbles into the crook of your neck, and you laugh breathlessly.

“You didn’t like it?” He groans at your question.

“Baby, I fucking loved it, but I hated not being able to touch you.” He was whining now, and your hand snaked up, scratching lightly through his hair. You think he would of purred if he could. “You’re mine. Don’t like it when you try to come without me.”

“Mmm. You were too far away.” You agreed.

“Was hot, though.” You laugh again and he switches sides to kiss your other cheek, forcing you to look to the other side, where your eyes catch on the significant stack of money.

“I won.” You whisper into his ear, smiling, and he groans again.

“Stupid game.” He grumbles, teeth scraping lightly along the top of your shoulder, making you shiver. “Still made you cum.”

“We can always have a re-match.” He was still mumbling and groaning against you about how dumb the idea was, but you can feel his grin as you laugh.

“I got a different game in mind.” He whispers into your ear, and in the next moment you are in the air, being swept up and carried towards your shared bedroom.

“And what’s that?”

“How about I show you?” He kicks the door closed behind him, and lays you down on the bed slow and sweet before making true of his promise and destroying you from the inside out, just like he always did.

#matt murdock x reader #matt murdock #matt murdock x you #matt murdock x y/n #matthew murdock x reader #daredevil x reader #daredevil x you #daredevil x y/n #matt murdock x oc #daredevil #marvel #matt murdock fanfic #matt murdock smut #matthew murdock x y/n #charlie cox #charlie cox x reader #charlie cox x you #charlie cox fanfiction

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judasgot-it · 2 months

Text

Hold Me Tight (and Don't Forget Me)

Scenario: Dazai takes you out on a date the day he's arrested. Slight Warning for Jouno being an ass.

Hold Me Tight - BTS

1.3 k word count

Blue skies and perfect weather - the worst, because that meant that today would be the perfect day before Dazai would ruin it once again.

It was a strange feeling to have. It was too peaceful, like a flock of seagulls waiting to be chased.

There was nothing wrong. And that was what was wrong with it.

"Dazai. Did you do something?"

You knew it was impossible to ask Dazai these questions and get an honest answer - your ability didn't work on him, so it was only a force of habit to want to interrogate him.

In response, he only smiled, like a cat that was too high for the barking dog. It made your skin bristle every time, but today he was handsy - he smoothed down your sleeves, easing your nerves with a gentle touch.

"I didn't do anything that you need to worry about. We're supposed to be focused on us, remember?"

His grin was honest, almost charming. He sipped his coffee rather loudly to make his point, drinking as if to remind you with force that you were in a diner, not at the Armed Detective Agency.

"Well, yes. But I know you, and you're only hiding the inevitable. You can tell me Dazai, we are dating."

It was weak to pull a card like that with him, but it was always worth a shot anyway. As if dating would make a difference in how Dazai acted.

The man was a mystery, sitting in front of you in his casual attire - nicer because for once, he had washed them for this occasion. He looked put together as well, hair nicely done and his face looking as a man in his younger 20s should.

He typically looked a little disheveled, hidden behind his charisma but noticeable with anyone who cared for appearances. A good smile managed to hide a lot of things, and for once you didn't need to think about it.

In your mind, you knew that something was wrong from this. The last time he had taken you out like this, he had known he would almost die from an ability user, and it was his apology beforehand.

The strange sense of doom was disconcerting; but so was Dazai's cold skin. He was always bouncing so quickly between temperatures as if he were a broken heater - but being cold? On such a warm day?

"I know we are. Just enjoy yourself babe, can't you do that for me?"

His smile was warm, enough to reach his chestnut eyes - treated with a light varnish from the sunlight penetrating the windows. Whatever warmth his body did have, he must have given it to you through that smile, because now you felt just a little hot.

"I don't like you sometimes."

You averted from his gaze, still holding onto his hand despite this. Dazai didn't say anything, his fingers gently tracing patterns along the hair on your wrists.

"Your face says otherwise. Looks like you're loving my company."

He leaned in closer, careful of your plates, pulling your face to match his. It was easier to kiss him than to say you had lost.

But still, something was wrong.

Dazai kissed you as if he would walk out like this was his last dinner. It wasn't hungry and yet it wasn't polite - it was desperate and it felt like an apology for a crime he hadn't even committed yet.

Or maybe one he already had.

It was only the middle of the day when Dazai had decided that a good way to spend your time would be horse betting.

Gambling seemed like an odd place to have a date, but it hadn't been the worst one of his ideas. At least it was outside, and it made for good conversation - even as he insisted on staying as close to the crowd as possible.

Dazai had thrown around some big money - enough to make you worried he was going to actually kill himself tonight.

He was just...strange. As the races had gone on, he had become more and more nervous, fumbling with his pockets and becoming a sort of weird handsy with you - as if you wouldn't notice the strange clamminess his skin had become.

Cold and sweaty, a strange feeling on Dazai.

You were left stuck in deep thought as you stared at the pale white horse Dazai had bet on, a bold '9' staring right back at you.

"Excuse me"

A soft and polite voice had broken you out of your thoughts, forcing you to look away from the race - you had won, and a little bit of relief was felt knowing that Dazai was at least lucky enough to have not blown his last three paychecks on horse racing.

"Would either of you happen to know who won this race?"

His eyes were closed, while his smile seemed...off. Your ability was near constant in your mind, and you could feel how wrong this man was. He didn't really care which horse won that race.

"Number 9 won." In your silence, Dazai responded for you, smiling as if this were an idle conversation. He hadn't seemed to notice the scheming mask the man wore, like a fox ready to jump for the canary.

"So you won then, right? You seem quite pleased with yourself after all."

"Wow! How'd you know all of that?"

You tried to lean closer to Dazai, almost feeling how wrong the man was. It was almost like he knew something you didn't, and it was disturbing to you. His smile practically was still friendly, nothing wrong. But it felt almost as cutting as a knife.

"After I had lost my sight, I had gained new senses - I can hear your heart rates, smell your fear, and even feel your future in my back pocket."

Swiftly, the man had handcuffed himself to Dazai, revealing a pair of sharp canines behind his wicked smile.

"And I know that you, Osamu Dazai, are going to be arrested for 138 counts of conspiracy to murder, 312 counts of extortion, and 625 counts of assorted fraud. I could keep going, but I feel like your fiancé has heard more than enough."

Dazai turned to you, his face paler than the cumulonimbus clouds that towered the sky behind you. By his expression alone, you could tell he had no idea that this would happen.

"Wait, hold on-"

You held onto Dazai's arm desperately, reaching for the handcuffs that were beginning to tear him apart from you. This felt like a dream turning into a nightmare, and that you were running too slow.

"I'm a Hunting Dog. I know more than enough about you as well, and your ability should have told you that I'm not a liar like Mr. Dazai here."

Maybe that was why he felt so off. It was more than just the way he said horrible things - over 100 counts of murder, with complete and utter truth.

"Y/n."

Dazai looked back at you with a solem look. There were so many emotions in your head, that you could only focus on the words that had come out of his mouth.

"I love you. Don't forget that, okay?"

Abruptly, you felt him pry your fingers off of his jacket, and look back to the Hunting Dog who had arrested him.

"There's no chance of escaping you, is there?"

"Even if you're hiding in the crowd, I would just kill them. I can take liberties with human life. I can kill your darling too, if you don't start walking."

Numbly, you watched as Dazai left. As if it were a dream, you were stuck in place, unable to chase after him and tell him to stop and even explain how the hell he had gotten into this situation.

You hadn't even gotten the other man's name, not so you could curse him out for taking your love away. There wasn't even the chance to scream.

It was a horribly numb feeling, stuck there in that moment, watching as Dazai walked further and further away from you.

Sorry, had this idea for a while. I was gonna use this song for Jouno, then Nikolai, then GOJO but ended up being a depressing Dazai fic once again....sigh.

#bsd x reader #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader #bsd x y/n #dazai x reader #dazai x you #dazai x y/n

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hope-you-brought-kneepads-bitch · 5 months

Text

Your assistant?

Devil!reader/Wanda maximoff

Words: 2,400

Summary: So your typical story of a devil being owed money from a family but instead of paying Wanda’s parents give her to you instead, her first day with you is an eventful one to say the least, I’m sure you two will get along great!

Not a slow burn but we don’t have Wanda in our grips yet, not willingly anyway

Warnings: 18+ only! MINORS DNI swearing, some inappropriate language I think, lmk if I missed any more

*********************************************

You glared at the woman across the table from you, her whole body stiffened when she glanced up and saw you looking, that made you chuckle glancing at the redhead next to you “I think she’s nervous Natty” you chuckled but the Russian just rolled her eyes “you snatched her up from her dorm room before her classes, she’s probably worried about her attendance”

You nodded “I never understood why humans are so concerned with keeping schedules, life is short just go out and enjoy yourself, kill some men and fuck their wives, what else do they need to do?” You looked back at the woman across from you leaning forward to be closer “hey pretty girl, sorry for snatching you up but I really needed to talk to you”. She finally looked up again at you “if this is a way of asking me out then it’s really fucking stupid” you heard Natasha suck in a breath and you smirked knowing full well how Nat gets when someone younger than her swears, she was weird like that “watch your fucking tone miss Maximoff and don’t you dare speak to us like that!” See? Weird, she hates swearing but will swear at anyone who swears at her.

“Natty my aggressive little spider monkey how about you go outside and find Maria, use her body for a little bit to calm down okay?” You patted her slammed fist and she sighed agreeing to leave you alone with the woman, when she exited the room you moved across the room sitting next the woman smiling “little one do you know how much debt your family is in?”

Wanda shook her head “I know mama and papa like to bet on the horses but they said we were okay and had nothing to worry about” you nodded along with her and held out your hand for her take which she did “I understand they told you everything was fine but unfortunately you’re still in debt and as you can imagine I would like to be payed Wanda, be it money or other favours I choose”

Wanda snatched her hand away standing up shocked “oh so that’s why you snatched me?! Am I becoming some kind of prostitute for you and the crazy bitch out there to pay off my family’s debt?!”

You eyes widened and you had to hide your laughter “I mean if you wanted to skip around the place wearing barley nothing while the women here grope and use you then sure you can become our little plaything” her face dropped in horror and she went to speak again but you held your hand up stopping her “no pretty girl I won’t make you become our plaything, but I do need your help, you’ll become my assistant, you know helping with documents and accompanying me to events and meetings, your parents have already agreed”

Wanda was shocked, her parents really agreed to this? How could they, she had to call them.

“You can’t call them honey, from the moment you were taken by my security all communication was terminated between you and them, I can’t have you telling them what kind of activities you have gotten up to”.

“Like what?” She was curious but also nervous, you couldn’t do things that bad right? Also how did you read her mind?

You stood up stalking toward Wanda pressing her against the wall “I need you to trust me Wanda” your hand found it’s way to Wanda’s waist rubbing small circles there “do you trust me?” She shook her head no “I don’t know you, you literally snatched me up from my dorm and now you’re touching me inappropriately”.

You laughed “inappropriately? My fingers are on your waist not inside your pussy so don’t you dare tell me I’m being inappropriate right now, so I’ll ask you again, do you trust me?”

Wanda sighed relenting “sure” you smiled “good, your first job is to accompany me to a meeting in 20 minutes, you’ll stay quiet until I say you can speak, if you step out of line Natty will slit your throat faster than you can say sorry, got it?”

Wanda nodded her head so quickly you thought it would fall off “well done princess now to business” she didn’t have time to do anything before you lent down to kiss marks down her throat, sucking harshly against her skin she tried pushing you away but your hands gripped her keeping her in place “stay.still” you said sternly and Wanda relented standing still and letting you continue, you pulled away admiring the dark purple mark now blooming on Wanda’s neck “perfect”

Wanda let out a breathy sigh “I thought you said I was just your assistant, why’d you do that?”

You smiled kissing Wanda on the cheek “you are, but if I don’t mark you as mine then our conversation about you not becoming our plaything would’ve been for nothing Carol can be ravenous with an unmarked human”

“Why do you keep saying humans? It’s a little strange” Wanda had an idea but she really hoped it wasn’t true, being snatched was bad enough but adding in some weird supernatural thing would be even worse “it’s nothing to worry your pretty little head about, just know that you belong to me and I won’t let them touch your pretty body, now come on my assistant we have a meeting to go to”

**************************************************************************************************************”Took you long enough” Nat looked at Wanda’s neck and smirked “you work quick Y/n, that should keep the others away, maybe Carol will behave herself for once-

The double doors before you slammed open and the before mentioned Carol appeared with dark red eyes honing in on Wanda who quickly moved behind you clinging to your arm “are you our lunch? You look delicious!”

You growled at Carol keeping her in place “she’s mine and if you don’t stay away I will tear you limb from limb and make you eat the limbs” the woman held her hands up smiling at you “I love it when you threaten me Y/n, gets me all hot and bothered” she stepped towards you kissing you and biting your lip

“I miss you baby” she whispered and you rolled your eyes “you can’t say that when I walked in on you eating out Val, clearly you don’t miss me that much” You pushed the blonde away from you and Wanda and laughed at Carol’s expression, “you know she tricked me”

“How? Did she tell you there was candy in there? I’m guessing it was something sour” it was Wanda’s turn to let out a laugh now but she immediately shut up when everyone turned to look at her “was that funny princess?” You asked and she nodded “you’ll fit right in Wanda”

You pushed her through into the room and dragged her to a chair where you sat and she looked around confused “where do I sit?”

You pointed to your lap “either here or the floor” you stated matter of factly and Wanda blushed “w-why don’t I get a chair?”

“Because you’re mine and it’s a great way to keep a close eye on you if you’re on my lap, now sit” you pulled her onto your lap clumsily making the group laugh “god she’s adorable” Carol chuckled making her way next to you “forgive me yet?” She asked kissing your neck “no and I probably never will” she whined sadly “please forgive me I haven’t done anything since-

“Carol sit the fuck down!” Nat shouted jolting both Carol and Wanda “fuck me Nat you need to calm down” Carol scoffed moving away from you and avoiding the angry redhead’s gaze “I’ll calm down when you learn to not to stick your tongue where it doesn’t belong, I had to deal with Y/n’s heartbreak for weeks after she found you”. Carol rolled her eyes “we’re not children okay, how about we just carry on with the meeting”

You laughed “for once being an adult Carol, well done” you turned back to Wanda kissing her cheek “we need you to do something special, will you do that for me?”

Wanda shrugged knowing she couldn’t really say no “sure- she squeaked, when you jumped up with her in your arms suddenly “perfect!” You stood her up pointing to a bag on the table that she didn’t notice to begin with “can you take this dagger and stab the bag?”

Wanda looked at you questionably “what?”

“Just simply take the dagger and pierce the bag like a cook in the bag chicken” you pushed the dagger into Wanda’s hand making her face the bag guiding her hand “there’s nothing to worry about, stab right here” you pointed to a slightly raised part of the bag “what if I don’t want too?”

You shrugged “then I let Carol have her way with you” she glanced over at Carol who had her eyes glued to Wanda’s body and when she met her eyes Carol smiled “I would ruin you-

Wanda didn’t hesitate stabbing the bag but instantly regretted it when the bag spurted out blood and all over her, she heard roars around the room and heard Natasha’s voice “she hit the jugular vein! Like a pro!” Wanda couldn’t move her hand still grasping the dagger and the voices being drowned at by the blood rushing to her head

You cautiously removed Wanda’s hand from the dagger and pulled the stunned woman away from the group whispering in her ear “you did so well princess, what a good girl”.

Your voice went unnoticed by Wanda still shocked at what she did, she didn’t register you took her away until your forced her into a room and she could breathe again

“I can’t believe I did that….I killed someone…I fucking killed someone!” Wanda was shouting and panicking unable to calm herself down until you wrapped your arms around her waist leaning in close to her ear “shh shhh honey I understand come on now…shhh everything’s okay, I’m so proud of you” while your words did calm her down they didn’t stop tears from falling “I hate it here” she whispered and you kissed her cheek turning her around to face you “it’s been 3 hours, give it time”

Wanda had no fight back, instead she fell into you letting you lay her on the bed “rest for a while princess, take it all in”

*****************************************************************************************

Nat found you drinking whiskey like a movie villain in your chair in a dark area of the front room “why are you sat in the dark like a movie villlian?”

You shrugged turning on the light illuminating the room and making you squint “why are you dripping blood all over my floor?” Looking at Nat covered in blood wasn’t anything new, in fact if she don’t have blood on her you’d be very concerned “Carol and I went out hunting and she can’t keep things clean”. You nodded along passing Nat a comically small napkin to wipe her face “thanks bud soooo helpful, how’s the assistant?”

“She’s a little upset about killing someone which is typical but I’m sure she’s fine” Nat sat down opposite you taking the bottle from the table and taking a long drink “I guess human’s do struggle with killing another living person, silly really”.

You agreed taking the bottle back and taking a swig sitting in silence with the woman for a few minutes. “I think she’s awake” Nat spoke up, you hummed in response turning your head to the stairs seeing your new assistant standing nervously on the stairs “feeling better Wanda?” She didn’t say anything instead she just walked downstairs and sat herself on your lap “oh? What do I owe the pleasure of this?” She pulled you into a kiss surprising both you and Nat, while you were definitely enjoying this you didn’t notice Wanda pulling a small knife from her pocket and plunging it into your stomach

You both stilled and Wanda’s breathing was heavy while you remained stoic staring into her eyes “did you really think that would work princess?”

Wanda felt a hand grab her hair and drag her off of you and throw her to the floor, when she looked up she saw Nat pointing a gun at her “give me a reason not to shoot you right between the eyes”.

You gently pulled the knife from your body discarding it on the floor and standing up and looking down at Wanda “you kill one person and now you want to kill me? Nat couldn’t even kill me so you don’t have a chance”. The tears gathered in Wanda’s already red and you started to feel bad making Nat lower her gun “Nat give us a minute”

The assassin sent you a questionable look but you just repeated “give us a minute” Nat sighed and put her gun away sparing Wanda one last glare and then she left you two alone “get up” your voice was stern yet gentle and Wanda immediately stood up wiping the tears that had fallen

“I know you don’t want to be here and I don’t want your experience to be horrible but you need to help me too, you’re here because of your parents they’re the ones you should be angry with, not me, if I didn’t step in for you you would’ve been sent to Steve and his group, they wouldn’t of hesitated to make you their plaything”

“I feel like I’m in a bad nightmare”

“Do you like to paint?” Wanda cocked her head to the side at the sudden change in sentence direction “what?”

“I said do you like painting? I have an art studio and it helps when I’m stressed, maybe it’ll help you adjust here”

Wanda gave a genuine smile “I do like painting, that would be nice”

You nodded walking through your house followed by the girl keeping close to you she didn’t get lost, finally coming to a door you opened it revealing the huge room with canvases and paints and even some pottery pieces

“Wow, this is a stark difference to a few hours ago” Wanda commented and you held back a laugh by biting your tongue “well I do have layers to me, take some time to paint or just look at some paints-

Wanda turned to face you stopping you talking

“Are you okay?” You asked and Wanda shook her head “I’ve killed someone, stabbed you, been threatened with a gun between my eyes by a crazy woman and now you’ve given me a nice room to paint in”

You shrugged “I need you be in a good mood to be working with me, otherwise I don’t have any use for you”

Wanda’s smile dropped “oh okay, I thought you were being nice”

Why were you being like this? What is the human doing to you, god Nat would never let you hear the end of it if you started to soften

“I just don’t want you to put yourself in any danger, then I’d have to deal with the consequences”

Wanda have a halfhearted smile and turned back to the room sitting down on the chair “can I have some time on my own, to process all of this?”

You sighed “sure, I need to do things, I’ll have to lock the door though and you’ll stay here for the next two hours then I’ll come and get you, the bathroom is over there” you pointed to a painted door “enjoy yourself, I won’t be this generous again”

You quickly left before she said anything and make you feel weird again, Natasha was waiting for you outside the room making you jump “fuck me nat what the hell?!”

The woman crossed her arms “why didn’t you let me kill her?”

“What?”

“You could find another one, she stabbed you and instead of killing her you just show her your painting room? Is the devil becoming soft?”

You pushed her hard against the wall and kept her pinned there with your arm “I’m not soft! She’ll break I’ll break her, todays just a learning day”

The Russian rolled her eyes “sure you will-

“Y/n!” Carol ran up to you stopping whatever Nat was going to say

“What do you want Carol?” You sighed and she grabbed you kissing you hard “please take me back! I need you I’m really sorry about Val I swear she means nothing to me”

Nat laughed at Carol’s poor attempts at getting you back but then you did something unexpected “I don’t forgive you Carol but I need to do something stupid and here you are, come on”

You dragged a happy Carol away to your room leaving the shocked demon behind “why do I put myself through this? Take me back to poking humans with a hot poker in hell over this any day”

#marvel #wanda maximoff #mcu #wanda maximov #wanda maximoff x reader #natasha romanoff #natasha romanov #marvel au #marvel imagine #marvel fanfic writer #marvel fanfic #carol danvers #marvel fanfiction #marvel fanfic series

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readychilledwine · 3 months

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Glory Hole

✨️Kink Education with Elizabeth✨️

We all probably know a glory hole is a place, typically in a bathroom, where people can pay for an anonymous sexual encounter. Here's what I didn't know before digging into this kink a lot more, though!

Glory holes have been used for hundreds of years but are believed to have originated or grown most popular among the LGBTQIA community. It was a safe way for closeted members of the community to be able to have sex with someone without risking their identity being revealed. Glory holes have resurged in popularity since 2020 due to the CDC and WHO being unable to provide people with ideas for safe sex during the Covid 19 pandemic. They can now be found in sex clubs, legal practicing brothels, and a ton of other locations. Typically, oral is what commonly happens with glory holes, but modern motivation and technology have made so much more possible with them, allowing both parties to receive pleasure and enjoy the experience.

The appeal of glory holes is the anonymous aspect of it. Sex with a stranger is always more thrilling, right? There's no expectations. You aren't as focused on impressing them. It is about pleasure and pleasure only, and that is the appeal that has made so many people fall in lust with the idea of them.

At least, Cassian will think that's pretty exciting.

💕Peep the Valentines Day List Here💕

As always, NSFW below the cut

Cassian x Reader

Warnings - reader is a sex worker, sketchy business practice, inferred danger, dp via toy use, toy use, p in v, unprotected sex, restraints, praise, Liz throwing possible fic content into what's supposed to be one shots. Sorry, friends 💕💕

You sighed as you walked into the pleasure hall for the night.

To the outside world, it was no different than Rita's. Drinks, loud music, a dance floor. The only difference was the upstairs of the hall.

Whereas Rita's had private booths, here had something much much different. For a pretty penny, only the wealthiest of guests could enter and be taken into a whole new experience kept private from the High Lord himself.

You were led up the steps, already going numb to what you had to do to pay bills, to stay alive. You entered the room males and females alike stood in. It was a haven here, a place you all could run to after one too many clients as you were asked to call them. A board with countless messages and warnings on clients who were banned sat on the largest wall. Every day, each of you received a new assignment, a new place you were to be stationed and kept until you were purchased and moved into a new room for the time allowed.

You did not know if the Mother was blessing you or mocking you as you read your assignment, “The Hole.” One of your coworkers, a new girl fresh out of school, came next to you, taking your hand. “You can take the lay down spot,” you squeezed her hand gently. “It's your first time in there. You'll want it.”

“I heard we'll make good money tonight.” You smiled at her, kissing her forehead as you walked her towards the room.

“You'll make your rent within two hours. We have an 8 hour shift, so you'll be able to safely afford recovery time off. Or a spa trip.”

Cassian hated being used by Azriel for spywork.

The general was hardly stealthy, too bold and loud to keep secrets, and frankly, everyone knew who he was. This was one spy scout out he was salivating at the idea of, though. A pleasure hall with a brothel hidden above it. A brothel that was hidden so well it and its workers had sat under Rhysand's nose for years, dodging thousands in taxes.

Nesta accidentally told Azriel about it after doing something to him that had the spymaster seeing the heavens. “A pretty female taught me when I went to Haven once.”

Haven wasn't an unknown pleasure hall to them. The inner circle would go there when they wanted more of a party atmosphere than Rita's offered, but Nesta had unknowingly confirmed a rumor that had been circling the court for years.

The large sum of gold in Cassian's pocket was a heavy reminder of why he was here. He handed the guard of the club 100 gold, a steep price just to be taken up the the brothel, and almost had a heart attack when he entered.

It was the cleanest whore house he had ever been in. The females all wore dresses similar to what Rhysand dressed Feyre in for the court of Nightmares. The men wore silk boxers. Cassian was approached by a pretty blonde with a menu of services they offered. One section stood out to him, though. “Anonymous Sex.” It was 800 gold, 2 hour time limit, a room with two females, a female and a male, or two males. “The females room please.”

The blonde smiled, head tilted almost longingly. “You're the first in there tonight. My girls will think they've been blessed with a God.”

He almost died again upon entering. Inside the large room, a wall of toys and discipline implements say, chairs in case you had brought friends with you, and a sink for aftercare for the girls. What really had Cassian stirring, thinking he was going to partake instead of question, was the two naked females, one on her back with her feet positioned into a harness, the other standing bent over whatever lied beyond that wall. All he could see was their lower bodies, wet and waiting with anticipation.

And the best part, the absolute best part? They could not see an inch of him.

You could hear the new girl crying out to any Gods that would listen as the wet sound of flesh smacking against each other was rhythmic. It was rare for one guest to enter the room normally reserved for parties of 2 or 3, but who were you to just if someone wanted to pay to have females to themselves.

It had happened once before in your time here. The female had not thought any of you would know who she was, but a sandy blonde female with grey eyes spending and tipping so freely and without concern was clearly a high ranking member of the court. And from the glimpse you had gotten, it was clearly Nesta Archeron.

You wanted to applaud when you heard your partner finishing. It was a genuine completion, not her faking the orgasm, training you all had and thanked the Cauldron for daily. You were dripping, but would have been content with being left alone. Maybe that's why you were so surprised when a harsh smack landed on your ass, cracking through the air and sending pleasure through you like a wave.

Cassian was memorizing the scent of both of the females in front of him. He wasn't going to waste the gold he had already spent to get into the brothel and into this room, so instead, he made the choice to mix work with pleasure, and fuck both of these girls until he could stand it anymore.

He left the first girl, dripping his cum and hers while she whimpered, legs visibly shaking. She had a preference for gentler sex, no aftercare. Whereas the girl, who's ass he was currently stroking himself to the sight of, had a preference for rough, toys allowed, aftercare preferred.

He saved her for last for that reason alone.

Cassian looked at the wall of toys, eyes locked on a thick dildo and lube and went to grab them. He set the lube down after taking some on his hand, rubbing it on the toys and then her pretty waiting holes. If she liked rough sex and toys, then fine, he'd stuff her full, filling both of those pretty waiting holes.

“Pretty thing, aren't you,” he purred, voice laced with lust. “We'll see how pretty you are when I'm done with you.”

You jumped in surprise and moaned as the male behind you began working a toy into your back entrance slowly. It was suddenly torture to be in the restraints they used to keep you both in place, to prevent you from ruining the allusion that the fae paying for these rooms were unknown to everyone. Every slow inch stretching had your body igniting, wanting you to beg for more.

You whimpered once it was fully inside of you, wiggling your hips in a silent plea. “Eager little thing.” That voice, Gods that voice, it had your cunt twitching around nothing. “Oh don't worry, kitten, I plan on filling that too.”

And Gods did he. That stretch started after a few sloppy thrusts of the dildo, and you could have sworn you saw the Mother once he was seated inside of you.

He either had the largest cock you've ever taken, or, the use of the toy made it seem that way. He gave you a few moments, cooing praise to you as a large calloused hand ran the outsides of your thighs.

The first roll of his hips inside of you did have you seeing the Mother. His cock was heavy and perfect, rubbing every nerve in your velvety walls. Once his testing was over, you felt those hands grip your hips, bruising them instantly, and he began.

This male began fucking you like both of your lives depended on your orgasm. He fucked you like he owned you, like he owned that peak of pleasure he was quickly driving you to. Between his cock and the toy, you were stuffed full and so sensitive, mind going numb and you moaned, cried, and begged.

He was so deep inside of you he hit places others had easily failed to. “Fuck you feel like Heaven, kitten.”

Your eyes rolled back at the praise, a soft “Thank you, sir,” leaving your mouth as you began to twitch around him.

Cassian was lost in the softness, warmth and wetness of this female's heat.

He would have paid 800 gold just for her. For just one hour with her. Each twitch of her silk had him on edge, ready to pump his seed so deep into her every single fae trying to fuck her afterwards would have to use him as lubricant.

She tightened around him again, moans becoming higher in pitch and more desperate. “Gonna cum for me, kitten? Gonna cum around my cock? Cum with that toy in your ass like a good whore?”

He was practically begging for it knowing he was going to finish in what he felt was embarrassingly record time. One of his hands moved to her clit, groaning as she gasped and wailed loudly. “That's it baby, cum for me.”

Those skilled fingers circled your clit over and over in time with him fucking into you with reckless abandonment. You were right on that edge, ready to fall, and then he growled. The noise so primal it shot through your body like an arrow, and in true nature, you came.

You came so hard you saw the cosmos, the afterlife, the ocean. Your high ripped through you like a tidal wave, walls milking him as he roared behind you.

You heard him him lean against the wall, panting as he gave a few sloppy finishing twitchs. He pulled himself and the toy out at the same time, chuckling as you whined from the sudden emptiness. You heard him following protocol, washing the toy and setting it on the table closest to you so any Other clients knew who it had been used on.

The warm rag he used to clean you while he whispered to you gently was almost better than the sex as it wiped away the remnants and dripping reminders of this sin.

Something made you pause, though, the rough sound of leathery wings flapping.

You replayed the voice in your head over and over after he left. Thinking to where you had heard it before and then whispered, “Oh fuck.” Your hand slapped the release for the restraints and you stepped out and into the room, grabbing your robe and pulling it to the other side as you did. You touched the new girl's leg, “I'll be right back, babe. We have a problem.”

You left the room, entering the hall quickly. You made eye contact with the front desk girl, then the Illyrian male leaving tips for you and your partner.

Cassian, the general of the Night Court, paused as he saw you. He smirked, but that quickly fell when you hit a button. On the wall and the fae lights died, the establishment was going dark.

The female before him began to glow. “You should leave before she gets the owner.” Cassian blinked, confused as to what was happening. “Big daddy doesn't like having his business potentially fucked with. He's killed for less. Leave before she gets him. It won't end well if you don't.”

Cassian heard movement in the room, cursing himself for not wearing his siphons and left, throwing gold on the table for the females.

He called for Rhysand to send Azriel as he walked through that shady part of Velaris alone. His shoulders fell in relief as his brothers both walked beside him in time.

“One,” he started. “I just had the best sex experience of my life.”

“Two,” he sighed. “It's fucking expensive, Rhys. The common citizen isn't getting in there unless they've saved for months.”

He turned to Azriel, “They call the owner Big Daddy.”

The shadowsinger paled before masking his concern. “Let's winnow,” he said firmly. “I do not feel like dealing with him tonight.”

General tag list:

Rhys nodded, grabbing Cassian's arm and then Azriel's. “Let's go home, and then I want to hear about this sex.”

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanager @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho

@mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium

Valentines Day Taglist:

@sfhsgrad-blog @amara-moonlight @eternallyelvish @novaksangel @teenageeggscissorslawyer @thisblogisaboutabook @amygdtjhddzvb

@justasillylittlegoofyguy @avajustreads

@littlestw01f @azriels-shadowsinger @acourtofladydeath

#acotar #acotar x reader #cassian x reader #cassian x y/n #cassian x you #cassian smut #cassian of illyria #lord of bloodshed #cassian acotar #readychilledwine valentines day bingo

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disneyprincemuke · 3 months

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electricity surging in the air

kimi raikkonen x reader - series masterlist

966.

kimi doesn’t get shy very often. in fact, he doesn’t even give much damns in general. at least not until he met you.

suddenly everything he does and says, he puts a lot of thought into. everything goes through about 3 levels of thought processes and evaluation if it’s the right move.

of course, he is definitely still his authentic self when he’s on dates with you — but he needs to play his cards right if he wants you to start liking him more than you already do. because, if he had to admit it out loud, you’ve already got his heart in your hands.

in a wrapped around your finger kind of way; like he’d be willing to do anything just for you.

and right now, watching you pressed up against the glass looking into the aquarium with the brightest glint in your eyes he’s seen thus far, he’d literally find a way to give you whatever the hell you want.

earlier, you were blabbing on about how you’ve always thought sharks are adorable. instantly, he had the idea of finding a way to get you one.

it’s almost embarrassing how much he’s into you. imagine — just after 1 date — he’s willing to splurge all of his money on you just to give you what you want.

to have a shark, of all things.

he watches as you excitedly point at the nurse sharks laying low, gawking at the hammerhead sharks swimming around and a great white shark chilling at the top of the tank.

“kimi, babe, look. isn’t it so adorable!”

kimi shuts his eyes, lips pressed together. you barely felt the way he tightens his grip around your hand. the way you sound saying his name, followed by the term of endearment almost brought him to his knees.

nobody has ever said his name with such sweetness before. right then and there, he is ready to give you everything he has.

is it too early to tell?

he lets out a shakey breath as he opens his eyes. he follows your finger, pointing at the hammerhead shark swimming about. “you’re right! but you know–“

“don’t.”

“–you’re much cuter than the shark.”

he smiles sweetly, turning to look down at you with. the blush creeping up your cheeks as you look away to avoid the intensity of his blue eyes.

“oh, shut up.”

he laughs, throwing his head back. he squeezes your hand and you squeeze it back, making his heart skip a beat. he taps your cheek as you turn back to him. “shy, are we?”

you scrunch your nose and raise an eyebrow. something tells him you’re not going to let him off easy. “am i? weren’t you the one who called me after i said you were hot?”

“oi!” he scoffs, now a blush creeping up his cheeks. he looks down and shakes off the embarrassment from what had happened just a couple of days ago. “that was one time! i told you i panicked.”

you hum with a teasing grin. “of course, babe,” you squeeze his hand two times before you tug him towards the direction you want to walk towards. “you know, they’ve got a gift shop here somewhere.”

before you could walk far, he tugs you back towards his body. the end of your first date, he had lingered right by your door longer than he should, kicking himself over the fact that he didn’t kiss you before you went in.

he wanted to, but he couldn’t get himself to do it. it’s typically easy for him to do things like this — the way your eyes look into his is different. there’s something about them that always makes him cower away from the gesture.

but there is no other way for him — or so he thinks — to express the way he feels about you.

you hum and tilt your head as your chest bumps into his. “something wrong? you want another shark fact? did you know that there are introvert and extrovert sharks?”

kimi gives you a smile, raising his eyebrows at your fact. and you continue talking: “and that they enjoy getting petted by humans? and then they form bonds with divers and people. they’re actually very adorable. also, lantern sharks glow in the dark. on top of that; sharks that are in the depths of the ocean can make their own flashlights via bioluminescence. and– oh, god. i’m doing it again, aren’t i?”

you shake your head and wave a hand in the air before turning away in embarrassment. you happen to find sharks very adorable, which is why you tend to go on long tangents about random fun facts you know about them.

“i’m sorry,” you apologise with a soft giggle. “you probably don’t care that much about sharks.”

he laughs, walking around you to face you once more. “you are so adorable,” he grins, cupping your cheeks. “i’d listen to you go on and on about sharks, actually.”

your eyes light up with a smile. “really? you wanna know more about sharks?”

“do i.”

you don’t know it yet, but those shark facts that you’d tell him at random that day at the aquarium would live in the back of his head forever.

even after you’ve long departed from his life, now both living your own lives without one another. sharks don’t come up too often for him, but best believe that he will always hear those facts in your voice every single time it pops up.

it makes him wish that he’d fought for you just a little harder.

@cashtons-wife @darleneslane @nikfigueiredo @happy-nico @namgification

#kimi raikkonen x reader #kimi raikkonen x you #disneyprincemuke #disneyprincemuke imagine #disneyprincemuke imagines #disneyprincemuke f1 #disneyprincemuke iguyg #f1 x reader #f1 x you

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isuckatwritingsobenice · 3 months

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Pearls.

Synopsis: Raising a child was the hardest thing a mother could do, especially alone.

A/n: I was listening to Pearls by Sade and thought of Alastor’s mother, so I decided to write about it because I feel like no one talks about how much of a godsend that woman is. Everyone’s always talking about Alastor and the reader, or Alastor this and Alastor that , we need to thank the woman who gave us Alastor. (Vivziepop) HIS MOMMA THE SWEETEST WOMAN IN NEW ORLEANS LOUISIANA DAMNIT, anyways hope you guys enjoyed :)

Pearls by Sade

Warnings: Mentions of Cheating, mentions Racism, typical 1900’s - 1930’s stereotypes, NOT AN ALASTOR X READER, just a background one-shot on Alastor and his Momma because we need more of them out here

Navigation!! // Masterlist!! // Serendipity Writes (event)

There is a woman in Somalia

Scraping for pearls on the roadside

There's a force stronger than nature

Keeps her will alive

Sylvie tried her hardest. She was raising a son on her own, working anywhere she could. Lord knew things weren’t easy, but what was? Life was hard, and it wasn’t going to go soft on Sylvie just because of her newborn son. If someone would have told her a year ago the man she fell in love with would have left her with a child, she’d have incense all over her all the time.

Alastor’s father was not a bragger. In fact, he hid Sylvie as best as he could. Giving her money every week by midnight, enough to keep her mouth shut, though she would never tell anyone, but not enough money to last her and her son. Babies were expensive, and things were only becoming worth more and more money. Who in their right mind would hire a black woman to work for them? Hell, even showing her face was a bit risky, the only reason she hadn’t been thrown into jail was because of her son. Though she didn’t like admitting this fact.

She dressed in her best clothes, shined her shoes and kissed her son goodbye, leaving him with her most trusted support, her mother. Sylvies mother knew of her, frivolous activities, to say the least. But, that didn’t mean she wasn’t going to be there for her daughter any less. Sylvie tried her best to straighten her hair, despite her mother’s warnings not too. She needed to look pretty, tamed, and well kept. Having her large fro wouldn’t land her a job anywhere. She needed to look her best, even if it came off as a desperate attempt to survive. But she needed too.

She stands in front of the mirror, brushing her now straight head of hair as carefully as she could. A red hat sitting perfectly on her hair, her long beige skirt stopping just below her knees. Her long sleeve white shirt embellished with a perfect pearl necklace. Ironically, it wasn’t hers, but her mother’s. Her father had worked hard to get enough money to gift it to her mother. She sighed, mentally hoping that she got this job. It was hardly anything, fifty cents an hour. If she worked every day for a week, four hours the way the ad in the paper said, then she’d have ten dollars a week. With the money from Alastor’s father, that left her with thirty five dollars. The heat alone was forty dollars. She’d be five short, but thankfully living with her mother made things a bit, easier.

“Are you leaving in time?” Sylvie’s mother asks. She stands in the doorway with the small child in her hands, gently rocking him. He’s silent, soft snores flowing through Sylvie’s ears and she smiles. She walks toward her mother, away from the mirror and stops. She reaches out slowly, and her mother gently hands the child to her. She takes her son in her hands and smiles, turning away from her mother while slowly rocking her son. Her mother reaches forward to close the door quietly, letting Sylvie have her time with her son. Sylvie smiles down at him, sitting at the edge of her bed slowly.

“I’ll give you the best life I can.” She whispers, placing a gentle kiss on his forehead. “I promise.”

This is how she's dying

She's dying to survive

Don't know what she's made of

I would like to be that brave

By the time Alastor was five he knew how to read and write fluently. He could read books for days and knew all the latest dances as Sylvie made it her priority to make him versatile. She wanted her son to be the best little man he could, well, little now at least.

“I don’t get it. Romeo was in love with every girl he saw.” Alastor said, adjusting his skeeters to look at her better. She stood at the stove, sliding peppers, onions and a few other spices into the pot in front of her. It had been two years since her mother passed, and she stayed in her house with Alastor, wanting to raise him around love. She knew her mother was looking down on them, and one day, hoped to be with her too.

“Honey, stories aren’t for you to understand. They’re just there to make you think.” She says, swiping her hands over the pot after putting the cutting board down. She smiles and turns to him, stopping her movements. She pinches his cheek before smiling. “From the looks of it, seems like it has you thinking too.” She says, before letting go to walk to the sink. Alastor follows behind her quickly, still speaking.

“Maybe, I’m not sure. Do you think they deserved to be together?” Alastor asked, before Sylvie shrugged, letting the cold water hit her hands. She cleans her hands off, shutting the water quickly before wiping her hands on her towel tucked neatly into the waistband of her apron.

“I think they deserved to be happy, and if that means the two of them being in love then, yes.” Sylvie says, perking up at the music flowing through the radio. Though fairly new, the small box was her favorite thing in the world, and raising Alastor with that love almost made it feel genetic. “Oh look honey, our song is on.” Sylvie says, turning the volume up a bit. Suddenly, Alastor begins dancing quickly in his place, and as Sylvie turns back to him, she finds herself laughing, watching her son dance his heart out all on his own, albeit a bit odd, but he was having fun, and that was what mattered. She danced her way back over to him, holding her hands out for him to grab, which he did, happily spinning around his mother with laughter.

“Oh the food!” Sylvie said through her laughs, walking back over to the pot while Alastor continued to dance until the songs end. He sits on the floor, watching his mother stir the pot, fixing his skeeters.

“What’cha making?” Alastor asked, standing on his tip-toes to see, leaning against the counter.

“Jambalaya.” She said with a wink.

She cries to the heaven above

There is a stone in my heart

She lives a life she didn't choose

And it hurts like brand new shoes

Alastor was eight years old when Sylvie found out his father was married to another woman. He was eight years old when the woman showed up to their home, her two kids with her. He watched the woman yell at his mother in their doorway, her kids behind her as they observed Alastor standing behind his mother.

“You filthy slut! Sleeping with my husband! How dare you?!” The woman screamed, jabbing her finger into Sylvie’s chest. She was in tears, embarrassed, confused, heartbroken and ashamed.

“I didn’t know! He didn’t tell me anything! I never knew you were married or even had kids!” Sylvie defended, an arm in front of Alastor to shield him from her. The woman stoped, looking at Alastor with disgust, before dread washed over her.

“Don’t tell me that boy is his…” She trailed off, voice getting quieter. Sylvie said nothing, turning to Alastor with a sad smile, teary eyed.

“How about you go, go to the sitting room. Okay?” She asked quietly, giving him her best smile. He nodded, giving the woman and her children one more look, before listening to his mother. Once he was out of earshot, Sylvie turned back to the woman and sighed. “Yes, that is his son. He doesn’t come to see us, and he never has.” Sylvie said, before looking at the woman’s children, a boy and a girl. Both were pale, with light blue eyes and lighter hair to match their mother. The boy looked more like Alastor’s father, and Sylvie couldn’t deny the way it hurt to look at him, so she looked away. “He doesn’t come here anymore. I haven’t seen him since I told him I was pregnant. That was eight years ago.” Sylvie said. The woman’s eyes widened.

“Eight years ago?” She asked in a whisper. Sylvie said nothing, smiling at the two kids.

“Please don’t let this tear your home apart.” Sylvie said, her heart going out to the woman’s children. “They don’t deserve that. It was in the past and I-… I’ve moved on.” Sylvie said, though it sounded like she was trying to convince herself. In truth, she had been jumping from job to job at night, while homeschooling Alastor during the day. Paying for good paper, school books. It was bad enough she had been wearing the same clothes for years, only spending money on Alastor. His clothes were larger than him, it was easier to buy them bigger so she didn’t need to keep wasting money on out-grown clothes.

“I see…let’s go children.” The woman said, putting her hands on the children’s shoulders and guiding them down the porch steps, which had been rotting away slowly due to the old wood. When they were finally out of sight, Sylvie shut the door, sighing with a heavy heart. She walked through the halls of the home and to the sitting room, finding Alastor sitting in silence, looking down at his hands, radio playing softly in the background.

“Hey honey.” Sylvie said softly, the boys head looking at her quickly.

“Hi momma.” He said quietly. She gave him a sad smile and sat down next to him.

“You okay?” She asked, and he just sat in silence again, looking down at his hands.

“Who was that?” Alastor asked, and Sylvie just sighed. She knew one day she would have to tell him, but so soon? Sylvie took a deep breath, her gaze fixed on Alastor’s questioning eyes. “Alastor, those children… they’re your father’s, and that woman is their mother,” she began gently, choosing her words with care. “Your father and I share a past that happened before you came into this world. It’s a complicated story, and I’ve been doing my best to shield you from it, wanting to give you a chance at a simpler life.” She paused, gauging his reaction before continuing, “Their family is a part of your history, and while I’ve moved on, it seems the past has a way of catching up with us. I want you to know that whatever happens, we face it together, as a family. You’re the most important thing in my life, Alastor, and nothing will change that.”

Hurts like brand new shoes

There is a woman in Somalia

The sun gives her no mercy

The same sky we lay under

Burns her to the bone

Alastor was ten when the topic of his father came up again. It was after Sylvie and him had come back from groceries. Sylvie was still working multiple jobs at night, leaving at eight once Alastor was tucked into bed and sound. She had begun to sell some of her things, he was growing quicker now. He was up to her shoulder, and he was only ten. Sylvie was average height, five feet and four inches, with Alastor at five feet and two inches. His hair was getting straighter the more he grew, his tight curls softening into looser ones, but still made him handsome nonetheless.

Walking up the stairs to the porch, Sylvie and Alastor stopped dead in their tracks upon seeing two children, around his age, sitting on their front porch chairs, plates of hot food in their hands. Sylvie had remembered them instantly, the boy especially looking like Alastor’s father.

“Hello. May we help you..?” Sylvie asked carefully, Alastor staring the two children down. The girl just frowned and looked to the ground, while the boy stood up. He was the same height as Alastor too.

“We wanted too… speak with you Miss..?” The boy questioned, unsure of Sylvie’s name. She lied on the spot, giving him some dumb white name instead of her own.

“Adam’s.” She said quickly. Alastor said nothing, but his face said it all as he watched his mother open the door to their home, paper bags in hand. Alastor held the rest, all the while staring at the young boy and girl. “Would you like to come in?” She asked the children, and the boy shook his head.

“No thank you Ms. Adam’s, we just wanted to ask you something. Is that alright?” The boy asked. Sylvie nodded slowly, opening the door wider for Alastor to step in. Alastor stood behind Sylvie, curiously watching.

“Oh alright, just a moment please then.” Sylvie said with a small smile, and the boy nodded back to her. Sylvie shut the door, and Alastor turned on his heel to the kitchen.

“Momma, are those the kids you told me about?” He asked, knowing Sylvie, his mother, had given him bits and pieces of his father’s history, his children and life. Sylvie said nothing until the two got to the kitchen, placing the groceries on the counter. Sylvie gave Alastor a thoughtful look, uncertainty clouding her features. "I'm not sure, honey. They didn't mention the reason," she admitted, her voice tinged with a hint of worry. "It seems they're here with questions or concerns. I'll find out when I talk to them." Alastor, sensing his mother's concern, stepped closer to her. Without a word, he wrapped his arms around her in a reassuring hug. Sylvie embraced him back, the shared warmth a silent acknowledgment of their unbreakable bond.

"Alright, Momma. Let me know if you need me," Alastor said, offering his support as Sylvie prepared to face the unexpected visit from his half-siblings. Alastor stood in the kitchen, putting groceries away per Sylvie’s request. Sylvie steps back outside, nodding to the two children.

“So, what can I help you with?”

Long as afternoon shadows

It's gonna take her to get home

Each grain carefully wrapped up

Pearls for her little girl

Alastor moved away from home when he was eighteen, going to New York to pursue his career in journalism. Sylvie supported him fully, saving money every month since he was thirteen for the occasion. She’d have him read her the paper while she made dinner, listening to him talk and perfect his voice.

Recently for his birthday, Sylvie had taken him to see a play. Romeo and Juliet, the first ever ‘complex’ book he’d read, so naturally it was only right his first play follow the same format right?

“Take care of yourself for me, okay honey?” Sylvie asked as she stood at the station with Alastor. He just smiled down at her, watching her dust off his shoulders and straighten his tie.

“I will, don’t worry about me, please.” He said with a smile, allowing her to fix his hair and shift his skeeters, knowing it was just her nerves.

“You know I can’t help it.” She said with a soft smile, hearing the train horn go off again. “Go, before you miss your train.” She said quickly, stepping on her tip toes to kiss him on the cheek before stepping away. To her surprise, her son, who usually truly disliked anyone touching him, embraced her. She smiled and patted his back softly, trying her hardest not to cry right there. “Write me when you get there.” Sylvie said, and Alastor just nodded.

“Love you momma.” He said quietly to her, before he pulled away, a bright smile back on his face. “I’ll write you as soon as I get to the city.” He said, and Sylvie nodded. Watching her son get on the train and leave, adorned in his best suit, brand new as Sylvie had saved so much for it just for this moment.

Sylvie returned home that day, walking into her now empty home with tears in her eyes. She went to her bedroom, opening a small box out from under her bed. Tears streamed down her face as she opened the box, picking up a small bottle from inside, popping the cork off and tracing her finger along the rim. Then, quietly, she spoke to herself.

“s'il vous plaît, ancêtres, protégez-le aussi longtemps que vous le pouvez” ( “please ancestors, protect him for as long as you can”)

In the bustling city of New York, Alastor found that it was a bit easier to land a job, though not much, it was a start. He settled into the fast-paced rhythm of city life, immersing himself in the world of news and media. Soon enough, he climbed his way to the top, changing his accent and becoming so well known his mother listened to his broadcast everyday.

Back home, Sylvie eagerly awaited Alastor’s letters, cherishing every word that bridged the distance between them. The letters became a lifeline, a way for mother and son to stay connected despite the miles.

As Alastor navigated his way through the competitive world of journalism, he found success, but the city’s relentless pace also brought its own set of trials. He was a mixed man, people did not take kindly to that fact. But status meant more than anything and he had the money to get by. With each triumph and setback, he continued to write to Sylvie, sharing his experiences and seeking comfort in her unwavering support.

Their bond, though physically stretched, remained unbroken.

Hallelujah

Alastor was twenty three when he came back home. He had gotten a transfer and began to host his show in Louisiana. Living with his mother hadn’t been a difficult adjustment. In fact, to Alastor, it felt like things had fallen right back into place. Until it hadn’t. As Alastor grew, the shadows of both the roaring twenties and the practice of voodoo cast their complex hues over their lives. Sylvie, a practitioner of voodoo, had passed down the sacred traditions to her son, weaving a tapestry of mysticism and heritage into the fabric of their existence.

In moments of desperation, Alastor found himself drawn to the potent rituals he had learned from his mother. The voodoo practices, once a source of connection and understanding, became a tempting tool to manipulate circumstances in his favor. Alastor, in the pursuit of success and happiness, began using the ancient arts for personal gain, delving into a darker side of the mystic practices.

Sylvie, sensing her son's divergence from the righteous path of voodoo, couldn't help but feel a pang of disappointment. Yet, beneath her disapproval, a mother's unwavering love persisted. She yearned for Alastor's happiness, even if it meant witnessing him tread on ethically murky grounds. Sylvie grappled with the conflict between her teachings and her maternal instincts, understanding that her son's choices were his own to make. However, it was easier to ignore things when the shadows around her home didn’t taunt her, despite her son’s warnings to them. Often times, she’d find him tracing symbols onto his hand during a conversation with someone, always behind his back as he spoke. She’d find small towers made of sticks her backyard sometimes, hanging around tree’s and something’s hiding in bushes. She said nothing, deciding it was his choice, but she’d always cleanse her area, and began to beg the spirits to lead her son in the right direction.

Their home, once a haven of warmth, now harbored the echoes of decisions made in pursuit of desires. Sylvie, despite disapproving of Alastor's misuse of voodoo, remained a steadfast pillar of support. For a mother's love, resilient and unconditional, transcended the boundaries of right and wrong. The tangled threads of voodoo, jazz, and maternal love wove together in the backdrop of their lives, creating a narrative of complexity and nuance.

Hallelujah

It was when Sylvie fell ill that Alastor had begun to change his ways, or partially. Becoming bedridden, Sylvie could no longer do things. Her son had grown into a well respected man, one she loved and cherished so much. But, she feared her time was coming soon and thus could no longer keep him safe anymore. He had done so well as an adult, he made something respectable out of himself. He became someone. Her biggest hope for him had come true, he had made a name for himself, left his mark on the world through radio. She was so proud of him.

In Sylvie’s final days, Alastor found himself torn between the guilt of his previous actions and the desire to make amends. The echoes of the past whispered in his ear, urging him to rectify the missteps that had strained the sacred bond between mother and son. He knew his mother disapproved of the way he used her teachings, but it wasn’t easy living in the world, fighting to make ends meet and fighting for respect.

One evening, as the dim light of a fading sunset painted Sylvie’s room, Alastor made a silent vow to honor his mother’s teachings. With a heavy heart, he delved into the mystic arts not to manipulate fate, but to seek guidance and help. The flickering candles cast dancing shadows as Alastor immersed himself in the rituals he had once misused. He had tried everything, saving money for the best medication, home remedies, having specialists see her, everything.

As Sylvie’s condition worsened, Alastor found solace in being by her side, tending to her needs with a newfound tenderness. The past haunted him, yet the present held the opportunity for redemption. In caring for his ailing mother, Alastor discovered a profound connection that transcended the barriers of time and choices made.

The world outside continued to applaud Alastor’s radio success, unaware of the internal transformation transpiring within him. Sylvie, weakened but perceptive, observed the change in her son with a quiet pride. As Sylvie lay in her bed, the fragility of life evident in her every breath, Alastor approached with a mixture of reverence and regret. The room was adorned with flickering candles, casting an ethereal glow that danced on the walls.

“Mother, I… I’ve come to seek your guidance.” Sylvie, her eyes conveying a deep understanding, nodded weakly.

“Honey, my time here is waning. But I feel a shift within you. Talk to me, what’s wrong?” She asked, tightening her grip on her son’s hand. Alastor hesitated, the weight of his past actions pressing upon him.

“I’ve used the mystic arts for my own gain, tarnished their sanctity. I’ve tried everything to help you- I… I tried so much.” He said, at a loss for words. Silent tears bordered his eyes, Sylvie, though weakened, managed a gentle smile. “I should have listened more, learned more. I should’ve been better.” He said frustrated, angry tears slipping from his eyes and down his cheeks. He looked down, skeeters fogging as he fought his tears, holding onto his mother so tight and afraid to let go. “Is this my fault?” He asked quietly.

“No, never dear.” Sylvie said shaking her head softly. “I know you tried your best. All will be okay. I taught you well, raised a good man. You will get everything you want and more in this life, I promise you.” She said weakly, coughing a bit with the tissue in her hand. Finally she calmed down, speaking again. “The world is a stage. Make it your own.” She said smiling at him, and he just chuckled. She sighed and spoke again. “Life is a tapestry, my love. We learn, we grow. I know you are hurting.” She said, placing her hand weakly on his chest, but she continued. “I know you missed out on so much. So much I tried to give you, but you turned out so wonderful, so special. You did not disappoint, and I would do it all again to love you dear.” She said, hand cradling his cheek. “Don’t stop living when I’m gone.” She said to him, and he nodded, teary eyed, holding onto her hand.

“I love you momma.” He said, smiling sadly as he cried to her. Sylvie just smiled back, tears welling in her own eyes as she held onto him. She sat up slowly, beckoning Alastor to lean closer. She placed a kiss on his forehead with shaky hands, pulling away with a smile.

“I love you too honey.” She whispered.

As Sylvie’s final breaths approached, Alastor held her hand, seeking solace in the fragile yet profound connection they had forged. The room, filled with the scent of candles and the soft strains of jazz, became a sanctuary for a son bidding farewell to his guiding light.

The final moments with Sylvie became a sacred passage, where Alastor whispered words of love and gratitude, promising to carry forward the legacy she had bestowed upon him. As the room filled with a bittersweet melody of jazz playing softly in the background, Alastor prepared to face a world without his guiding light, determined to walk a path worthy of her memory.

She cries to the heaven above

There is a stone in my heart

She lives in a world she didn't choose

And it hurts like brand new shoes

Hurts like brand new shoes

#hazbin alastor #hazbin demon #hazbin hotel #hellaverse #human alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor x reader

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cupid-styles · 7 months

Text

the first date

a sugar daddy h blurb!! in which harry just wants to show mia how much he adores her, but it turns out they both have some reservations to hash out.

word count: 2.5k

content warnings: none! a little bit of angst but all gets solved in the end<3 lmk if you wanna see any other blurbs from these two ! :)

masterlist | talk to me

"Mia—"

"No."

"Mia—"

"No."

"Please?"

Mia lets out of a huff as she pulls her legs into her chest. For the past hour or so, Harry's been trying to convince her to let him take her out on a date — in his words, their first official date, despite going out to dinner the night that they met.

It's not that she doesn't appreciate the way Harry tries to woo her and constantly make her feel special, but it can get so overwhelming, especially because he's him. Gorgeous Harry with a stupidly perfect face, a stupid amount of money, and, for some reason Mia's yet to understand, a stupidly large crush on her.

Over the past month or so as they've begun seeing each other more seriously, Mia and Harry have been content with their little routine of cooking dinner at his place, watching crime shows, and the occasional event Mia will accompany him to, but Harry's a romantic. He wants more, especially since he hasn't even asked her to be his girlfriend yet. He wants to show her everything she deserves.

And, unfortunately for her, she can hardly resist that little puppy dog pout he does, and it makes her want to lean over and smush her face into his feather-filled pillows.

"If I say yes, I don't just wanna sit at dinner or whatever it is rich people do," Mia says, tucking her bottom lip between her teeth.

Harry chuckles at that and wraps a loose arm around her shoulders, bringing her back into the comfort of his side. As usual, while her words have a bite, her actions never do.

"So, what you're saying is... you want me to plan something special for you?"

Mia rolls her eyes before pushing her face into the crook of his neck. She inhales quietly, letting the musky, warm scent of his cologne invade her senses.

"I'll go on a date with you." she mutters into his skin.

"Hm?"

"I said," she removes her face from his neck just for a moment, repeating her words barely a decibel louder, "I'll go on a date with you."

Harry smirks and lifts a hand to run it through her hair, smoothing the messy strands. "You're cute. Thank you for humoring me."

"Mhm," she replies, pressing back into the gentle grasp he has at the back of her head, "Can we go to bed now?"

"Whatever you want, baby."

. . .

From: Harry🫀

Clear your schedule for tomorrow, please. I'm taking you out on that date you agreed to.

Less than 24 hours from Saturday, that's what Mia receives. In classic Harry fashion, his texts are always cryptic, a true showcase of their age gap. (She's been trying to convince him to use emojis more, but he's insistent on his claim that they're unnecessary. Still, he'll use the occasional red heart or smiley face, and it makes Mia's lips curl up into a small smile.)

They typically spend Friday evenings together, but tonight, he has some sort of work event that required his attendance, and Mia just didn't have it in her to pull on an uncomfortable dress and heels and pretend to laugh at his employees' jokes. She appreciates how understanding Harry is, and when she said she needed a night in on her own, he was more than happy to do that.

(After getting off the phone earlier that day, he also sent her $100 on Venmo with the description, Order yourself some takeout on me and make sure you get dessert, too. 🍰)

And her evening alone was actually quite nice — she sent Harry a picture of the dinner she ordered from her favorite diner, complete with a piece of cheesecake. She watched three episodes of Gilmore Girls, worked on her crochet project (a half-assed attempt at a scarf for Harry, but it wasn't going all that well), and basked in the scent of the pumpkin vanilla candle she snagged from the shops last weekend.

But now Mia's panicking. Because she was honestly banking on Harry forgetting about that date he insisted on taking her on, especially since their schedules are so busy. She should've known better — Harry never forgets a thing when it comes to her — and now it's 20 minutes past midnight, and she's trying to come up with some excuse to get out of it.

It has nothing to do with him. Truthfully. She adores spending time with Harry. He just... spoils her so much, and the thought of him setting up something official so he can do even more for her is enough to make her head spin. Even over the past month, Mia sometimes has gotten in her head and questioned why Harry was even interested in her. She didn't see what she had to offer the same way he did. On her worst days, she was just some girl eight years his junior who managed to get a lucky break.

Eventually, that's what she falls asleep thinking about. It's the only thing that calms her heart rate enough as she curls up on the couch, snuggling the sweatshirt Harry left behind a few days ago. She promises herself that it's just a fluke, that he'll realize he can find someone better, more mature, and on the same stature as him before the sun rises.

. . .

Mia is starting to realize that Harry knows her a little too well.

Because she doesn't say anything about her minor breakdown last night, and he still shows up to her apartment at half past 10 with coffee and a bagel from her favorite bakery. Not to mention, it's seriously out of the way for Harry (he lives in the opposite direction, so it's not like he stopped on the way over), and Mia has no choice but to swallow her insecurities down and wash them away with the iced pumpkin chai he brought her.

Harry's dressed in what she affectionally refers to as his "weekend clothes" — a stark difference from his typical suits and blazers during the week, instead opting for trousers or baggy jeans and soft cardigans. Meanwhile, she's still in her pajamas, zoning out and staring into space as she sips on her coffee.

Harry clears his throat from beside her, ripping her from her thoughts. "Are y'alright, Mi?"

"Hm?" she asks, turning to look at him with slightly widened eyes, "Yeah, I'm fine. Why?"

"Well, it's been 15 minutes and you haven't said anything. I know I make fun of you for rambling sometimes but I like to hear your voice, y'know."

She can tell that Harry's attempting to make light and she smiles gently, murmuring out, "Sorry, just tired."

"'s alright. Are you feeling okay enough to go on our date today?"

"Sure," she forces out, tucking the straw between her lips, "What are we doing?"

"That's a surprise, love," he says with a lopsided smirk. "Go ahead and get ready, hm?"

Mia nods and shuffles upstairs to her bedroom, willing herself to get rid of the negativity clouding her thoughts. She knows she's in a funk and she's not being fair to Harry and she wishes she could just flip a switch and be... better, somehow. She breathes deeply as she washes her face and swipes her skincare over her face, quickly getting dressed and meeting Harry back downstairs.

"Pretty girl," he coos from the couch, pushing his phone back into the pocket of his trousers, "Ready to go?"

She hums and follows him out, locking the door behind them and walking out to his sleek car. Mia knows it's an expensive one — it has all those nice features, like seat warmers and tinted windows — but she's never been a car person, especially if her modest Honda Civic is anything to go off of.

Harry's a good driver, and she's grateful for the way she feels just a little bit more at ease in the passengers seat of his vehicle. He plays soft indie music that she doesn't know but still finds comfort in, probably because it comes from him.

With his hand grasping her knee, he squeezes it gently as he pulls into the parking lot of their presumed destination. They pass a sign that reads botanical gardens, which makes Mia's heart warm. She'd mentioned a few weeks back that she'd been wanting to visit the gardens for the longest time but hadn't had time.

"We're here," Harry announces softly, putting the car into park. "I hope this is okay. You said you didn't want to go out to dinner and I know you wanted to come here before they close for winter."

Mia swallows, realizing there's a small lump forming in her throat. She clears her throat and nods, blinking owlishly — and if she's not entirely too off base, she thinks she notices the slightest twinge of nervousness in Harry's own voice.

"This is perfect, Harry," she murmurs, looking out the window to assess the plush mazes of greenery, an abundance of seasonal flowers seemingly everywhere. "Can we go in?"

He grins, making his eyes crinkle. "Yeah, we can go in."

In true Harry fashion, he pre-purchased the tickets earlier this morning, prepared as ever. Mia's breath hitches in her throat as they walk through the array of marigolds, mums, and chrysanthemums, her face in pure awe at the smattering of warm colors.

"D'you like it?" Harry asks quietly, catching the shell of her ear. The only other people visiting today are other couples and small families, quiet murmurs being exchanged so not to disturb the peaceful scenery.

"It's beautiful. Thank you so much for taking me, H."

"'Course," he wraps an arm around her shoulders, "Y'know I wanted to be a florist when I was younger?"

Mia looks up at him, a surprised smile on her lips. "Really?"

"Yeah. My mum had a gorgeous garden that I loved spending time in. She told me that I could make a living doing it and I became obsessed with idea of spending my days with flowers."

"That's so cute." she replies, giggling at the thought of a younger version of Harry, traipsing around the garden with his mom back in London.

Harry's steps pause as they pass a particularly bright bunch of hydrangeas. He pulls his phone out of his pocket and Mia shuffles to the side, assuming he wants to photograph the flowers.

"What are you doing, baby?" he asks, "I wanna take a picture of you in front of the flowers."

"Oh." Mia mumbles, making Harry chuckle. He playfully guides her to stand besides the white and blue-hued flowers and raises his phone up, peering over his sunglasses to see better.

"Smile, sunshine."

She giggles and flashes him a quick grin before quickly stepping around him, grabbing his phone out of his grasp.

"Your turn, old man," she smirks, switching spots with him.

"Old man, huh?" Harry teases back as he crosses his arms over the expanse of his chest. "That's not what you were calling me when we were—"

"Okay!" Mia exclaims, passing his phone back to him after taking a few quick pictures, "Let's keep walking, hm?"

He lets out a loud laugh, ducking his head back slightly as Mia scurries away. He's fast in catching up with her, hooking his arm through hers with a playful twinkle in his eyes.

"You seem more at peace here," Harry notices lowly. "I know you said there wasn't, but... was there something bothering you this morning?"

Mia swallows nervously. She knows the switch in her energy was apparent, mainly because the nerves had effectively faded away when she saw Harry's casual planning of their date. She also knows it wouldn't be fair to continue acting as if everything was fine, when she'd nearly talked herself into a tizzy the night before.

"I just get overwhelmed, I think."

Harry nods. As they approach a bench, he stops their leisurely pace, sitting down on the faded wood. He pats the spot next to him and wordlessly encourages Mia to sit.

"Overwhelmed about what?"

She sighs, "Not... not you, exactly, but maybe your lifestyle. I have a habit of convincing myself that this is all a joke. You're so much more established than me, and I just feel like you'll eventually find someone who actually matches you so much better than me."

"Mia," Harry croons through a concerned expression, "That's not true at all. Just because of our... age difference, and yeah, I know we're in different places in life, but... that wouldn't deter me from being with you. Ever."

"I was just nervous about today," she mumbles with a shrug, "I love that you enjoy taking care of me and doing nice things for me, but sometimes it does feel a bit... much."

"What would you qualify as being too much?" he questions, nibbling his nails, "Sending you money for dinner? Paying for your nails? Your bills?"

Mia smiles gently at his immediate worrying, placing a hand to his thigh for a semblance of comfort. "All of that is wonderful, H, and so, so helpful. But... maybe the weekly flower deliveries... and you definitely don't have to send a car to take me to your place whenever we have plans. There's also no need for me to get a new dress every time I accompany you to a work event."

Harry nods, a perplexed look on his face as if he's mentally checking off boxes, ensuring that he keeps track of her asks.

"Okay. I can do all that. Am I... doing anything else that's making you uncomfortable?"

Mia's stomach immediately twists into knots, a sharp pang of hurt shooting through her body. She turns to look at the wounded expression on Harry's face and she wants to grab his cheeks and smush them together, promising that she's here, she just can't quite verbalize that right now.

"You're not making me uncomfortable, Harry, not at all," she rushes out with a shake of her head, "I just... I don't know. Maybe I want to level the playing field a little? I know when we started this we were different, but... I don't want it to feel like that. Does that make sense?"

He nods slowly, the cogs turning in his brain as he processes her response.

"Yeah. I'm sorry if I was overcompensating at all. I just want you to be happy, Mi."

For the first time, she can see the insecurity radiating through his facial expression. His eyebrows are pulled together and a small frown curls at the edges of his lips as he picks at the skin surrounding his nails. It's then that she realizes: She's not the only person in this relationship that's feeling it. He's scared of losing her, too.

"I am happy, Harry," Mia says, willing her voice to sound as strong and confident as she feels. "With you, I'm so happy."

He looks up at her, his eyes slightly widened. "Really?"

"Of course. I love spending time with you, going to events as your date, hanging out at home together. I wouldn't change a single thing about us, H."

Harry grins at that, reaching forward to intertwine the fingers together as his posture straightens. "I feel the same way. I really like you, Mia. I... I want you to be mine. My girlfriend."

Her heart warms at the admission. She ducks down to catch his lips in a kiss, firm but soft, a silent gesture of mutual affection.

"I'm already yours, Harry."

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