#fanfiction for a favor

[meimeiherokitten]

So... I'm writing an OFMD fic in a genre I am not used to. I don't usually read this genre and have never written it before. Moreover, it is on a subject i don't believe in. I consider this a challenge. I am up to this. But it's...difficult.

My solution? Well, when all else fails, torture Izzy with it.

[inkskinned]

at some point it's just like. do they even fucking like the thing they're asking AI to make? "oh we'll just use AI for all the scripts" "we'll just use AI for art" "no worries AI can write this book" "oh, AI could easily design this"

like... it's so clear they've never stood in the middle of an art museum and felt like crying, looking at a piece that somehow cuts into your marrow even though the artist and you are separated by space and time. they've never looked at a poem - once, twice, three times - just because the words feel like a fired gun, something too-close, clanging behind your eyes. they've never gotten to the end of the movie and had to arrive, blinking, back into their body, laughing a little because they were holding their breath without realizing.

"oh AI can mimic style" "AI can mimic emotion" "AI can mimic you and your job is almost gone, kid."

... how do i explain to you - you can make AI that does a perfect job of imitating me. you could disseminate it through the entire world and make so much money, using my works and my ideas and my everything.

and i'd still keep writing.

i don't know there's a word for it. in high school, we become aware that the way we feel about our artform is a cliche - it's like breathing. over and over, artists all feel the same thing. "i write because i need to" and "my music is how i speak" and "i make art because it's either that or i stop existing." it is such a common experience, the violence and immediacy we mean behind it is like breathing to me - comes out like a useless understatement. it's a cliche because we all feel it, not because the experience isn't actually persistent. so many of us have this ... fluttering urgency behind our ribs.

i'm not doing it for the money. for a star on the ground in some city i've never visited. i am doing it because when i was seven i started taking notebooks with me on walks. i am doing it because in second grade i wrote a poem and stood up in front of my whole class to read it out while i shook with nerves. i am doing it because i spent high school scribbling all my feelings down. i am doing it for the 16 year old me and the 18 year old me and the today-me, how we can never put the pen down. you can take me down to a subatomic layer, eviscerate me - and never find the source of it; it is of me. when i was 19 i named this blog inkskinned because i was dramatic and lonely and it felt like the only thing that was actually permanently-true about me was that this is what is inside of me, that the words come up over everything, coat everything, bloom their little twilight arias into every nook and corner and alley

"we're gonna replace you". that is okay. you think that i am writing to fill a space. that someone said JOB OPENING: Writer Needed, and i wrote to answer. you think one raindrop replaces another, and i think they're both just falling. you think art has a place, that is simply arrives on walls when it is needed, that is only ever on demand, perfect, easily requested. you see "audience spending" and "marketability" and "multi-line merch opportunity"

and i see a kid drowning. i am writing to make her a boat. i am writing because what used to be a river raft has long become a fully-rigged ship. i am writing because you can fucking rip this out of my cold dead clammy hands and i will still come back as a ghost and i will still be penning poems about it.

it isn't even love. the word we use the most i think is "passion". devotion, obsession, necessity. my favorite little fact about the magic of artists - "abracadabra" means i create as i speak. we make because it sluices out of us. because we look down and our hands are somehow already busy. because it was the first thing we knew and it is our backbone and heartbreak and everything. because we have given up well-paying jobs and a "real life" and the approval of our parents. we create because - the cliche again. it's like breathing. we create because we must.

you create because you're greedy.

[myfavoritesstuff]

Visual Novels & Webtoons

Note: Please do not read if you are not okay with yandere tendencies or violence!

Discord!!!! Please join if you like reading and/or writing or just want to talk (text). It will be my way of talking or obsessing over these characters.

Note: The Discord Link is now updated! Feel free to join!

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

Dreaming Freedom

Nothing yet

The Kid at the Back

Through the Illustrated Veil

The Coffin of Andy and Leyley

“Your Andy”

Possession from Within

“Yes, We Really Do” (smut)

Through the Illustrated Veil

14 Days with you

Through the Illustrated Veil

Mushroom Oasis

Nothing yet

A Date with Death

Nothing yet

Favor

Embrace of Shadows (smut)

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

[jarofstyles]

The Favor 11

Dear lord… this took a million years to write and I’m sorry for that 😭 I’ve never written something of this nature before and I wanted to get it right. I hope you enjoy because this is a shift in the whole thing!

The Favor masterlist

Check out our Patreon for early access to part 12 and 200+ exclusive writings

WC- 6.5k

Warnings- cuckolding, Danny (ew), bd/sm elements, dom/sub dynamics, unprotected sex, creampie, slight angst, fluff, obvious smut, soft dom!h, kinda asshole h (to Danny hehe)

Y/N wasn’t sure what she had thought this sort of scenario would look like, but she was putting her trust in Harry. In this case, it was her trusting him to set this up at a hotel instead of his place, saying that neutral ground would be better in case Danny had an unsavory reaction. 

It was a classy joint, that much was obvious. He’d painted it as a weekend staycation for the both of them, which she liked more than she cared to admit- but there were mixed reaction she had in the idea of Danny being there at all. It was like an intrusion in a way, having him look in to their private little world… but on the other hand, she wanted to show him how far gone she was for him. How Harry could provide for her things that she needed and he could never provide. 

“Y’alright, pet?” He stroked over her hair as he knelt down in front of her. His shirt had been discarded to the side not too long ago, setting up the bed for their activity. The dominant had ran through what would be happening tonight with her a number of times to make sure she felt safe and comfortable, but there was nothing like the anticipation of her boyfriend she was actively planning on dumping coming up to watch the man she was utterly infatuated with give her the type of sex that had made her dream come true. 

“Yeah. A little nervous.” The admission was quiet, her eyes reaching his own. It was instant comfort. Another reason why she knew it was the right thing to break up with Danny. As cruel as it may sound, she’d be doing him a favor. Never in her life had she had just a simple look calming her down. Perhaps it was the trust, maybe it was the familiar, but there was no doubt in her mind that Harry was going to take care of her. 

“That’s alright, and very normal.” He reassured. “But it’s not too late to cancel. It’s never too late to stop. The moment you color, we can stop and we can send him out. Okay?” The tenderness he treated her with had never failed to make her fall further down the cracks, right into the palm of his hand. 

“I know. I trust you.” Reaching out, her hands cupped his face and impulsively brought him forward. 

It was something that had started to become normal. The kissing like lovers, kissing for comfort and passion, and it far exceeded what a strictly Dominant and Submissive relationship would be, but they both knew it was much more than that. He was going to be hers Officially soon enough, and selfishly he was giving in. Indulging, smug that finally she had decided to drop the man- and better yet, prove to him that it was only the natural choice. 

Humming into the kiss, he stood up and guided her to follow, securing his hand over her throat and giving it a gentle squeeze as he pulled back. Wet lips and a soft pant, he thumbed over her lip and wiped away a bit of the slickness his tongue had left. “I trust you, too. And m’happy that you’re….” He paused for a second. “I’m happy that you are leaving a relationship that isn’t good for you.” 

It was a moment she could have ignored, simply nodding her head, but she could see that subconsciously he was searching for validation in his own way- so she gave it to him. “I’m leaving him because someone else is making me happier than I ever thought I could be. So I’m very happy, too.” 

The loaded statement had him staring at her for a few seconds before his mouth fell back on hers, a bruising kiss making her whimper into the air. He was happy with that, more than that, but he had no time to properly respond when there was that dreaded knock on the door. 

Fucking prick, always ruining everything. As evil as it was, he was going to take full pleasure in fucking Y/N in front of him and making him see how he had failed to provide even the simplest pleasures to her. He wasn’t going to mourn their friendship like he thought he would. Not when he got the better option in it. 

“Go lay on the bed, baby.” He gave one last kiss, a small squeeze to her throat before he loosened up. “I’m gonna let him in and remind him of the rules.” 

They had decided that she was going to keep her lingerie on. Harry wasn’t keen on him getting a full show, full access to what now belonged to him- and Y/N not so excited to have him see every part of her at once. He’d be able to see Harry’s cock in her, but her breasts would be hidden away. That was solely for H. 

She did as he asked, getting into the agreed position. Face down, ass up. Hands at her side, face turned away from the chair Danny would sit in. The silk eye mask slipped over her eyes, she did her best to be a good girl and laid on her position as she heard the murmuring. 

The pre established rules had been simple 

No touching 

No talking to Y/N 

Phone off, Harry would place it inside a drawer.  

Leave when he said to leave. 

This was something that she hadn’t expected to happen when the arrangement had first started, but then again- she hadn’t expected to fall in love with Harry either. 

Silly, foolish girl. As if she ever had a chance at resisting.

It was nearly impossible to not fall for him. Between his attentiveness, his thoughtful gestures, his sweet demeanor, his humor, his patience, his ability to take care of her and the way he fucked her?  It was inevitable. There was no way she could have ever resisted that. 

The water bottle he’d gotten her sat on the side table of the bed, filled up with cool water for when she needed it, for fucks sake. Danny had barely ever gotten her gifts, let alone just because he was thinking of her. Not that she needed to be showered in material things, but the fact that Harry had come up with the ideas on his own and thought of her enough to grab something just for her had been enough of an indication that it was something she liked and wanted far more of.

Her decision to break up with him wasn’t one she had come to lightly, but seeing how she was treated by Harry had proven she deserved better. Even if… Harry decided he wasn’t into her anymore down the line, he set the new precedent that she could and should be treated with more respect. She could have the things she wanted and it wasn’t necessarily odd of her to ask for them. The right person would be happy to fulfill those wants, and more.

Her body was cold, but her insides were hot. Hearing the shuffling, the door closing, being unable to see but having the knowledge that he was sitting on that chair about to watch Harry, the man he’d essentially pawned her off to on loan, give her the things he couldn’t dream of doing. There had been mixed feelings at first, unsure if it was the right thing to do, but considering he had asked and consented, Harry had calmed her about it. 

He was kind enough not to mention how wet it had made her when she had spread her legs after that conversation and he got a glimpse of the wet patch on her cotton panties. 

Her mind was going a million miles a minute, not stopping once as the thoughts continued racing around her brain- until she felt his hand on her. Smooth, large fingers running over her back, all the way up until he gently wrapped them up in her hair and pulled her face up, giving her cheeks a squeeze with the opposite hand. “You know your safe words, my sweet. At any time, for any reason, if you want to stop…. What are you gonna say?”

“Red, sir.” She peeped, leaning into his touch. It was her body’s natural inclination now. The moment Harry started talking in that specific tone, that tilt to his voice, her body knew exactly how to react. Melt, give in, please him. It’s all she wanted. 

“That’s my good girl.” Another squeeze to her cheeks had her lips pouting out before he gently laid her head back down on the sheet. “You just keep bein’ good for me and I’ll take care of everything. Just like normal, hm?” He ran his hand back down her body, using one finger over her asscheek. 

“Yes, sir.” She nodded, rubbing her face against the soft fabric. “Take good care of me always.” 

Harry grinned, moving back towards the end of the bed. “Good. Be as loud as you’d like tonight, my pet.” His eyes were soft when he looked down at her, body splayed out on the blankets but not completely bare. There were some things Danny was never going to get to see again- and god, did that make him happy. Moving towards the side, he undid his belt lazily. Letting it draw out not only to build anticipation, but to leave her guessing. 

Danny had never seen anything like this before and in all honesty, they’d agreed to keep it relatively vanilla for that reason… and another. He didn’t deserve to see the flogging, the paddle, the ropes, not at all.. Y/N wouldn’t feel fully safe with him in the room with Danny watching either, so she had eagerly agreed to keep it downplayed, insisting that their sex had been missionary and bland to begin with so even the shit they’d done without the bells and whistles would be enough to shock him. Even though that made him jealous, it only added motivation to prove that Harry could give it to her a hundred times better even without the toys and tools. He could make her cum harder than Danny could have ever dreamt of with just his fingers, just a few flicks of them, because they had a connection that no one had been expecting. 

Perhaps his inkling of a god complex was showing, but he was more than happy to show off just how much better he was. 

“Legs together.” He ordered, watching with a little smile as she immediately placed them together. “Don’t want to deal with you squirming too much today. Know you love to when it gets to feel too good, but I think keeping you restrained would be better.” Diligently, he wrapped the leather through her ankles and began to wrap them up. Firm, he tightened it so she had no chance of wriggling them out, he hummed at his handiwork. 

“Is that safe?” For the first time, Danny spoke. Harry’s head snapped towards him, a reproachful look shot his way. 

“Yes, it’s safe. Everything we do is safe. I’d never put her in danger… Not too much.” His hand ran over her thighs. “Now shut up. You want to watch? Fine. But we’re going to pretend you aren’t there.” His voice was gruff as he placed his attention back to Y/N. There was nothing else said as he used his binding as a grip, pulling her down so her feet nearly touched the ground, her upper body on the plushy bed. 

“Yeah.. This is a nice position, isn’t it?” He murmured, focusing solely on her now. “You look so gorgeous like this, pet.” His fingers gently slipped over her cunt, cupping it lightly as he got that gasp he was looking for. He bit back a groan as he felt how wet she was for him, how she had ruined the pretty lace. Giving it a squeeze, he clicked his tongue down at her. “Exactly what I expected. S’not a day that goes by that this cunt isn’t desperate for my cock, hm?” 

Y/N held back the urge to grind into his hand, her breathing picking up as he began to touch her. She felt hyperaware of everything going on around her- and a little fucking pissed that Danny had opened his mouth. 

How dare he ask as if he actually gave a fuck? He had essentially made her someone else's problem, not at all looked into the sort of shit BDSM could entail. Thankfully Harry was an absolute godsend, but what if he hadn’t been? Would he have just given her up to any other of his friends? Just because someone did kinky shit didn’t mean they were good enough or safe enough to give our girlfriend over to. It was infuriating. 

“Yes, sir. I always want it.” She answered without hesitation. It was the truth. Over her time with Harry, he’d fine tuned her into being addicted to him in every possible way- and now she was pretty sure he felt the same way about her. 

“That’s good. Considering how much you whine for it, I’m not shocked.” Thumbing over her clit, he felt increasingly smug. “You need to get that wet for me anyway. Poor little hole has a bit of trouble fitting me in, doesn’t it?” 

“Mhm. I love it.” She breathed, only to squeal a few seconds later as his hand came down on her ass. The burn sent tingles down her body, cunt throbbing against his hand as she opened up her mouth again. “Sir! I love it, sir. I’m sorry.”

“I’m sure y’are, pet. You usually are so good for me, jus’ a little overwhelmed. I know how my girl is.” He crooned, leaning himself forwards and pressing his cock against her ass. “Kept you worked up all day. I know it’s a lot for you, ‘specially when your pretty head gets a bit empty when you’re waiting for my cock…. But you have been so good for me.”

Harry found himself slipping into his own headspace. They’d both agreed to keep it relatively short with the other man in the room and he had been more than happy with that agreement, but he liked that he was getting a look at how she came undone for him. That he got to hear the little gasp she let out as he slipped a finger inside of her cunt, and then two, fucking them into her slippery hole.

“There it is. Barely touched you and you’re dripping like a whore.” His coo was contradictory to his harsh word, tone soft with a slight chuckle at the end because of course she was. Y/N got worked up so easily, the tiniest things making her wet for him and that was one of his favorite things about her. Her eagerness that could borderline desperation. The submissive could try if she wanted, to pretend that she wasn’t a whore for him- but it would be a lie. “Do you like being a slut for me, pet? Barely touched you and you’re dripping down my knuckles.” 

Y/N’s head spun at his word, nodding into the fabric under her face. Maybe she’d be embarrassed if she hadn’t come to terms with the fact that Harry had some sort of magic touch to him, but between the both of them it was no secret. She’d get on her knees or bend herself over the moment he even suggested it because she was greedy and they both knew it. “Uh-huh.” She nodded. “I love being your whore, sir.”

To his credit, his fingers knew exactly where to curl, where to stroke, how hard and fast to move. Harry had been becoming an expert in all things Y/N, but especially when it came to how her body reacted to him. The feeling of her bound ankles keeping her from squirming too much and the practiced ease of his fingers curled right into a spot he knew would make her weak already had her feeling pathetically close. “Sir- I’m gonna cum- can I-“ 

A sharp spank was given to her ass again, his free hand squeezing the stinging flesh as she bit back a moan. “We’ve been over this, pet.”

“S-Sorry, may I? I’m gonna if you keep-“

“Cum.” Harry didn’t make her finish her sentence as he continued his motions, watching his fingers sinking into her and her legs tremble just a bit. He had known exactly how to get her there, betting on it actually, as he felt the fluttering around his digits as she breathed heavier and did her best to writhe despite her constraints. It was one of the most beautiful things, he thinks, watching her lose herself to pleasure that he personally gave her. 

He just didn’t stop there. He could feel her pulsate around his fingers as he fucked them into her harder, placing one hand on her lower back as he continued thrusting them inside her weeping cunt. Overstimulation was a favorite of his, always, but he liked even more so making her cum when he knew it was getting her to relax. To get to that headspace easier. Part of him wished he could see her eyes, watch them get teary for him as she began to babble slightly, but he didn’t want anything taking her out of this moment. 

Out of the corner of his eye he was reminded that they had someone watching but he didn’t pay him any mind, focusing solely on the woman in front of him that took up the majority of his mind even when she wasn’t here. 

“H-ha…” She went to say his name but caught herself, letting out a muffled moan as she buried her face in the comforter of the bed again. The leather of the belt bit into her skin but in the best way, the burn of her legs trying to push apart to both trap his hand and push it away adding to the pleasure swirling in her tummy. It was borderline too much, his palm slapping against her and the constant stimulation to her spot, but she knew that Harry knew best.

“Hm? What was that you’re tryin’ to say, pet?” He hummed, gently letting his nails run over the expanse of the lingerie. It tickled, making her squirm a bit but she had no complaints except a hybrid of a giggled moan. “Are you feeling good?” 

 “S’good, it’s so good.” Her head nodded quickly. “I’m just- you’ll make me cum again, sir. A-and I haven’t even made you cum and I don’t wanna be greedy, I want to make you happy and-“ her words were cut off with his fingers back in her hair, pulling her up a bit so he could make her back arch. 

“I’m doing what I want. This makes me happy. Like seeing you dripping on my fingers, squirming around the bed because you can’t help it. I’ll cum when I feel like it. I want you to do it again on my hand and then we’ll worry about me, yeah?” 

The pinpricks of the grip on her hair had her mouth hanging open, and if the eye mask was uncovered he’d see her eyes rolled back into her head. It was a heavenly combination in her opinion. The only thing that would make it better would be to replace his fingers with his cock but she wasn’t about to make any demands. 

“Now cum for me again. Want that cunt nice and soft for me when I slip into it.”

Y/N knew that Harry had an ungodly level of control over her body just by command alone, but it took the both of them off guard by how quickly her orgasm came. Wet gasps into the air as his honorific left her lips, slick arousal dripping off his knuckles and over his palm as he worked her throat the second orgasm well enough before giving her another surprise.

The dominant didn’t give her a chance to recover as his cock was pushed into her, a garbled moan leaving her throat as she felt it fill her up. Her nails dug into her palms as she felt the grip on her hair tighten, pulling her further up as he dug in deep. It was in her stomach, her toes curling as she panted into the air. “Oh-“ 

Harry repeated it. “Shush.” He muttered, slipping his fingers into her gaping mouth. “Suck these clean. You want me to feel good? Take my cock and shut up, sweetheart.”

“Don’t talk to her like that.” 

Danny. Y/N had forgotten about him until she heard his voice, her body tensing slightly- but Harry didn’t stop. Pushing his fingers back in her throat he made her gag, knowing that she’d need the distraction to keep sucking again. 

“If you can’t keep your mouth shut, you’ll get the fuck out.” Harry’s voice was unlike how it usually was, even being mean to her. It was cold. If it was ever directed at her like that she’d cry- but she couldn’t deny that a part of her liked him being mean to Danny. Especially because it was mostly on her behalf. “She likes this shit. Clearly, you’ve no fucking clue what gets her off… S’why you sent her to me, isn’t it? Couldn’t get her off in the way she wanted so you sent her to someone who could.” He scoffed, pulling his saliva soaked fingers from her mouth. “You like when I tell you you to shut up and take it, mm baby?”

“Uh-huh.” She nodded without a second guess. “I l-love it so much. I love how you fuck me.” The second part wasn’t necessary, but she wanted to say it. As if it wasn’t visible and audible by how wet she was around his dick, how she moaned. Then again, Danny really didn’t have a clue about how to make Y/N feel good anyway. 

“See?” Harry grinned maliciously, finally glancing over to the man. His face was flushed and he looked slightly bothered, but he wasn’t making any effort to move. “I’ve taken the time t’learn what she likes, I’ve listened to what she wants- shown her the shit you’re too scared to even try. So if I want to tell her to shut up n’take it so she soaks my cock a bit more? M’gonna fucking do it.” His thrusts were deeper, making Y/N let out little noises as he got into her tummy. “If you want to keep watching, don’t talk. I won’t warn you again. I’ll simply kick you out and make her finish on my own.” 

Maybe she should feel bad about how aroused this was getting her. The show of dominance and how overwhelmingly clear it was that Harry was in charge, that he’d always been in charge and that he was so blatant about the fact that he was the one making her feel good. It would make her felt guilty later, she’s sure, that her cunt got more slick and she clenched around him as he essentially told him to shut the fuck up and let him get to business or get out, that their pleasure wasn’t indicative on if he was there or not. 

But right now, it had her melting, malleable, easy for him to do as he pleased. 

Subconsciously she could probably surmise that it was because a man was finally showing initiative. He was claiming her, in a way, with little care for anyone but her opinion. He had made sure she was okay with this but leaned into it with the somewhat unspoken knowledge that this was going to further prove that they were the better match. Harry showed that cared about her when he smacked her ass and pulled her hair and called her a filthy bitch when he came inside of her, because he knew that’s exactly what she wanted. 

“More.” Her voice broke through the weighted lack of words, only the sounds of sex. “More, sir- I want more.” 

“Okay, pet.” He grinned- she didn’t have to look at him to hear it in his voice. “Been going too soft on you, I know.” 

The dominant knew what she wanted. So he gave it to her. 

The last threads of caring about the man she called a boyfriend in name only fell away as Harry fucked her. Deep, heavy thrusts as he pulled her up and wrapped his arm around her chest, letting his mouth pant against her ear as his cock filled her over and over again. 

“You like it.” He murmured, just for her. “You like that he knows that he can’t give this t’you. My dirty girl.” He pressed a kiss right under her ear, chuckling as she immediately gave him room. The proof was in how she held him tight, dripping and weeping all over his cock as he manhandled her. She had no control in this, not in appearance anyway, and it’s what she wanted. 

“I want…” her voice was hoarse as she tried to turn her head so Danny couldn’t hear. “Wanna have you cum in me with him watching. It’s your pussy.” The words fell out as her guard lowered, interrupted at the end by his mouth. Part of her wished to be naked right now so she didn’t have the layer between them, but Danny had lost the privilege of seeing her fully nude. That was something she only wanted Harry to see. 

“That last part.” He grunted. “Say it louder.” 

“It’s yours.” Even with a slightly straightened voice, she tried her hardest. His other hand collared her throat, keeping it tightly wound with slight pressure. That promise had been something that set him off, and she liked that bit of power she felt with making him lose it slightly. 

“I can’t quite understand, Pet.” He spoke louder, giving the ability for it to be heard now. “What’s mine? Need you to elaborate on that for me.”

“My cunt.” She gasped, feeling his teeth graze her jaw. “My cunt- it’s yours. You- you fuck me so good and I want it all the t-time. I need it.” 

“Yeah, baby? You need me?” He’d let the softer pet name slip, as well as the fondness he’d been trying to keep from his tone- but if the man sitting in the chair had any sense at all, he’d be able to see that he’d lost the girl. That she was Harry’s, and it was his own fault. 

He’d sent her straight into Harry’s arms. Straight into his bed. He’d stupidly assumed that Y/N didn’t actually know what she wanted, that she’d be scared off- but now, she knew even more so. She begged for it, was greedy for it. She was hiccuping slightly as he slowly pushed her down, pushing her face into the blankets as he adjusted just so- making her let out a soft sob. He’s found the spot he had been avoiding, her legs quivering under them. 

“Yeah, I need it. I need it, I need it so much, I need you-“ she let out a shuddering breath. “Please, Sir. You’re gonna make me cum again and I need to- I need you to cum too. Wanna be good.” It was her favorite line. 

Little did she know, Y/N was always good. Harry had been a little spooked at first at just how good she actually was, how much he had wanted her.  He had been a goner since day one, as soon as he got permission to look at her as more than a friend’s lover and potentially one of his own- he should have known he’d never be able to give her back. 

“You are, pet. You are. Such a good fucking good with a perfect cunt. Dunno how anyone could ever let you out of their sight.” A slight dig at Danny, but he wanted him to watch and understand. “Where do you want me to cum, hm? Your precious cunt’s got me close.” He slipped the hair away from her mouth, adjusting the mask over her eyes. “Want it on your ass? On that cute little tummy?” 

He was taunting her, making her ask for it out loud. 

“No- no, sir. Please, y’know where I want it. Want it inside me.” She was whining, his sweet girl, pushing her ass up the best she could with the position she was in. “Please, please, please, just let me cum n’I can take all of yours, I’ll do a good job. I’ll clean you up, I-“

“Oh, darling. Love when you ramble like that, know there isn’t much going on in your head when you get drunk on cock like this- but I’ll give it to you. You’ve been so good.” The praise seemed to have her melting into the bed. “Go on, baby. Tell me who you belong to when you cum on my cock.”

Harry knew it would be a lot, but he didn’t realize how satisfying it would truly be to hear her whine out loudly, her body trembling under him as she soaked him. Slightly gushing on his cock, his brows furrowed as he watched the mess she made on him. Even he had underestimated how good this would be. “Yours- m’yours, it’s yours, H-sir, I can’t…” her tongue tied, her body writhing slightly under his as her pussy massaged her his cock. 

It wasn’t like he stood a chance. Coughing out a loud groan, he hovered over her, burying his face in her hair as he let his hips stutter and cum shoot into her. It felt like a lot- it probably was, considering how heavy his balls had felt- but he felt a piece of his settle. The scent of her shampoo he’d gotten her, her softness underneath him, the velvety walls of her cunt milking every drop from him, it was almost there. The claiming in front of him has felt like one of the final pieces, a nail in a coffin, lips pressed against her temple as he whispered praises to her. 

The only thing that caught his attention was the sound of ruffling that had his head turning. Danny stood looking a mixture of angry and…

Something else. Unsure what to do. Harry sighed, not wanting to leave the warm confines of her pussy. 

“Your phone is in the drawer in the entrance. You can leave.” He said simply, deciding that was enough. There wasn’t much else that could be said- could there? 

He couldn’t apologize. There was nothing he was sorry for. Being the better man and giving the girl the proper treatment wasn’t something he’d feel bad for. He’d asked to watch himself, and maybe it hadn’t been all the paddles and whips and chains but it had been kinky in terms of someone watching- so he got a hint of it. A real clue about how good Y/N felt with him. 

His whole body relaxed once he heard the drawer open and the door close, finally ridding them of the man neither of them really wanted much to do with in the first place. 

“He’s gone, baby.” Harry spoke softly to her, ever so lightly lifting the mask from her eyes. He could see her wince at the light, though not much of it, the cute little nose wrinkling making his cock twitch inside of her. Even the cute things she did made him feel borderline insane. “There she is.” He cooed, leaning further up to kiss under her eye and over her brow. 

“Hi.” She said quietly, blinking up at him a few times before letting her cheek melt into the bed. They were alone now, truly alone, and she could let her guard down. As much as Harry made her feel as safe as she could in that scene, it was exactly why she had wanted to feel in relatively vanilla. Add in the idea of anything experimental or really kinky and she wouldn’t have had good connotations. 

“How are you feeling?” It felt like a dumb question to ask but he couldn’t help but ask it. It was something he needed to know. 

“I’m okay, weirdly.” She admitted. “I thought I’d feel more emotional. I don’t, though.” There was peace underneath it all. Yes, she’d deliberate later about how she would actually have the conversation with him about breaking up with him- but she wanted to enjoy her weekend with Harry first. “I think… I’ve known it’s been over for a bit and it felt nice to…” it was hard to say it out loud but not because she regretted it, but more so because it was difficult to put into words. “I think that I felt nice knowing he was getting to see that you care about me and you give me something he never has. Part of me felt guilty at first but not so much anymore. I forgot he was here most of the time.” Harry was her focus. 

“Okay.” He nodded, seeing that maybe it was something that she needed to think about some more on her own. There wasn’t a doubt in his mind she was going to go through with it, but he knew it had to be difficult to break up with someone. She was over him and that was clear, but the anxieties that surrounded all of that would rise to the surface soon and he didn’t want to make it worse. “We can talk about it some more later.” The last thing he wanted was to pull out of her but he needed to undo her restraint and make sure she was cleaned up and comfortable. “But for now, why don’t you let me clean you up, hm? I’ll order something for us on the room service menu, you won’t have to think about a thing.”

—-

One of the best parts about being with Harry was letting go. It wasn’t just physically, though that was nice- but emotionally, mentally. She felt the restraints slipping, allowing him to make decisions she usually would make herself. It wasn’t that he thought her as incapable, no. Not at all. But he wanted to make it easier for her. It started with him picking out food for her in the room service menu, and then her sleep set. The next morning, he’d asked her if she wanted him to do the same and she had shyly agreed. 

He picked out her outfit from the bag they’d packed for their little staycation- a lilac dress with a little cardigan to go overtop, her comfy pink cotton panties (which had surprised her considering there were sexier options) and her slightly beat up black converse. It was interesting to see what he had chosen to put on her, but she felt extra giddy as he let his eyes roam over her, humming in approval when she finished getting ready. 

“Love this.” He pinched the cardigan. “I like you in those. You look soft. You are soft- but S’like a reminder.” And fuck if she didn’t fall to her knees right then and there. “Can you put your hair up for me, please? S’a little windy today and I know it bothers you when it gets in your face. Or do you need help with it?” 

Y/N realistically didn’t need any help. Thousands of times she had tossed her hair up, but when it came to the specific ask… she wanted to have him do it. It took a few tries, but he got it eventually, focused on making sure there was no fall out except a few pieces that framed her face. “Beautiful.” 

It had haunted her all day, really. Flirting at the back of her mind, but knowing it wasn’t exactly the time to ask it. Was this something they could do all the time? Was that something that he’d want?

It came naturally to him. That much was very glaringly obvious. Harry was easy to slip into the dominant role both in and out of the bedroom and she wondered if he was fully aware how he was doing it as they walked around. They were only 30 minutes outside their town, but it felt like another universe as he held her hand firmly, making sure he walked on the side of the street near traffic, opened doors, ordered for her during lunch again, picked out some clothes she had trouble deciding on when they went into the shops. It felt right. 

She didn’t want to go home. 

As much as she missed his house and his dog, she wanted to live in this little world. 

“You’re quiet today.” He noticed. Of course he did. Y/N doubted there was much the man missed. When you first met him you wouldn’t expect the sharp eye for detail but she caught on fairly quickly how attentive he was to even the slightest shift in her demeanor or her face- or even her texts. 

“I’m sorry.” She apologized, sitting back on the hotel bed. They’d decided to spend their last night here before returning to Harry’s tomorrow. “I just don’t want this weekend to end.”

Harry’s shoulders dropped in what  seemed to be relief as he took a seat next to her, gingerly pulling her legs on his lap. “I don’t either. But we’ve got next weekend. Or… well.” He shrugged his shoulders. “Depending on when you have your discussion with Danny, I don’t think we’ll need to stick to just a weekend schedule. If that’s something you’d like, of course.”

Seeing him blush wasn’t super common, but it was fucking adorable. She wanted to coo but instead smiled, placing her hand over his as some of the nerves at the idea of him wanting to end all of this because her breakup with Danny would mean the deal was over slipping off her back. “Yeah? You don’t think you’d get sick of me?” 

The man scoffed. If only she knew just how clingy he had started to feel. How he had to talk himself out to texting her far more than he did, how he had tried his best to make sure he didn’t come on too strong when she was still figuring things out with her last relationship- but if she was willing to spend more time with him, he would take up every single crumb, every second, every tiny sliver her could. “I don’t think you really get how…” he sighed, readjusting the words. “I don’t think that you comprehend how much I’d love to have you around more often. I don’t think it’s possible for me to get sick of you.”

That brought a smile to her face. “I don’t know. I do sing a bit obnoxiously. And I keep forgetting to put the cap on the toothpaste…”

“As long as it’s a good song, I don’t mind. As for the toothpaste… we can work on it.” He raised an eyebrow. “I know plenty of ways to get you to remember. Don’t worry about that.”

[sparklingcid3r]

No thoughts, just Darry “I’m not a violent dog, I don’t know why I bite” Curtis

[taytrashmouth]

hello lovely!! would u consider writing a peeta x reader, where ur both in the quarter quell, but reader is separated from peeta from the start and goes through mutt attacks/blood rain/jabberjays by herself and when peeta and the group find her on the beach she is injured and traumatised. hurt/comfort, where he looks after her afterwards and comforts her, washes her in the water and stuff? loooads of gentle comfort and fluff. sorry for my bad english!!

Okay I am absolutely obsessed with this request!!!! Omg can’t wait for you to read this!!! Ahhhh! Okay okay I hope you love it 😊

Peeta x reader

(Catching fire)

Requests are open so don’t forget to send them in!!!! Prompts under my profile!

:readmore:

When you woke up the morning of the games in Peetas arms you somehow felt safe. It was like you weren’t being sent to die that day. He kissed your head and told you he’d be by your side.

You had dreamt about the last games, how you were separated and the only reason you survived was because he became allies with those horrible kids from 1 & 2

When you eventually found each other, all you did was help Peeta get better, applied the ointment and comforted him. He did all the killing, he saved you.

You only survived the first half by dumb luck, that spear was supposed to hit you…not Rue. If only you hadn’t moved out the way.

The whole lovers idea was Peetas too, only it was true. Deep down you both knew you’d liked each other since kindergarten back in 12

But here you were in the little glass tube that sucked you straight into hell. You felt sick but you really wanted to throw up when you couldn’t see Peeta.

“Peeta!” You screamed as the countdown started. Sweating and getting panicked. You couldn’t do this again, not without him. You had a deal: stay together.

The games had begun. You needed a weapon. You jumped off the platform into the water swimming for the weapons.

Once you found your feet at the cornucopia, you began to hear screams and watched people start to fall. You grabbed a machete and ran for the jungle on one of the thin arms of rock.

“Peeta!” You screamed from the beach. But no answer. That was when a knife flew past your head and missed by an inch.

You couldn’t kill somebody. So you ran.

You shoved past trees and vines running deep into the jungle.

You found a spot hollowed out under a tree. It was hot- and you needed water.

That was when you heard his voice. Peeta.

You screamed for him as you ran towards the sound.

“Help n/n!” He yelled.

“Where are you!?” You frantically turned around. “Peeta?”

That was until his voice became overwhelming. Your ears started to ring. His cried for help, his screams.

You began to cry, realising this was some cruel trick of the capitol. “STOP IT!” You yelled, throat raw. You screamed as loud as you could covering your ears to get it to stop but it didn’t help. It was overwhelming. You tried to run but a forcefield locked you in. You screamed and banged on it but nothing worked.

You grabbed your machete and banged at the field but it just ricocheted.

You sunk to the floor, covering your ears and cried. You were there for what felt like a decade but was probably only an hour.

When his cries suddenly stopped you felt a strange sense of sadness. The screaming had been awful but you were worried about him. What if he was dead.

You began to walk deeper into the jungle, sweating and with tear stained cheeks. You had never been so thirsty before, after screaming so loudly in what felt like 100 degree heat.

As desperate as you were you stumbled across a little pool of water. You smiled dryly and lay on the floor, drinking out of the pool. A sigh escaped your mouth as you quenched your thirst. You splashed your face. And sat up leaning against a nearby tree.

This is where you would sleep. You gathered sticks and placed them in a circle around the area, to ensure that if someone walked by you would hear them.

The music began to play, you looked up at the sky, holding your pin. Praying you wouldn’t see Peetas face. You didn’t. Relief washed over you as the final canon went off.

You barely slept when you felt a warm air hitting your face, as your eyes opened you were greeted with a large mutt, two inches from your face.

You took a shocked, shaky breath in and slowly reached for your machete. It belted a loud noise sending a signal to the rest of his friends.

You closed your eyes as you wedged the sharp end of your blade into the mutt in-front of you.

You pulled the machete out of its body and stood up. Swinging at any that got a little to close. Just as one of the beasts began to jump at you, you decided the best option was to throw the machete and run.

As the mutt jumped and you released your blade, the woman from 6 who had been hiding in the trees tried to save you. And the machete hit her instead. A scream escaped your lips. You had killed someone.

You covered your mouth with your hands, shaky breaths escaping your lips. “No!” You sobbed.

You bent down to try help her, applying pressure to the wound. “I’m sorry.” You cried as she became limp.

You held her to your chest in the hopes it would cause a miracle.

Soon you noticed the mutts had began to run as a white smoked reached the edge of the water, you stood up, knowing something was coming.

One of their claws ripped the back of your calf open as it ran away. “Shit!” You fell into the smoke, immediately screaming and running.

The sun had started to rise, and you were limping with an excruciating pain in your arms and legs with growing boils from the poison.

You screamed as you ran not caring about attracting other tributes. The sun has begun to rise, and you were now an easy target.

You ran through the jungle searching desperately for the beach but it was so overgrown you had no way of knowing.

You stopped in a small clearing. Crying and sitting in the dirt. Desperately wanting to rid yourself of the boils.

After a while of crying A cool liquid hit your face. Rain. You looked up at the sky, hoping the water would help your sores. Opening your mouth to quench your thirst.

It was definitely not water. You gagged. Spitting onto the dirt. Blood.

You sobbed and ran wherever you could and tripped over a log of wood. Tumbling onto the sand of the beach. 

You screamed and cried. Not knowing what to do. You hated the capitol. You hated that you didn’t know where Peeta was. You hated this. You hated that you had to die.

Just then you heard voices. You put a hand over your mouth trying to quiet your whimpers.

Tears running down your face. You couldn’t run anymore. This was it.

You shuffled back, trying to find and escape route but there wasn’t one.

You got on all fours and crawled on the sand, dragging your leg with a gash in it in the sand.

You let out chokes of pain and self pity as they grew closer, you refused to look.

“N/n!” You heard him…peeta. “Oh my god it’s y/n!!!”

You screamed and covered your ears lying in the sand. You would rather die than listen to the jabberjays again. Until someone rolled you onto your back and you were met with Peeta.

He looked so scared for you. You immediately started to cry as he hugged you tightly to his chest. “You weren’t real.” You sobbed into his chest, feeling his hair, his back, anything to make sure he was there.

“I’m real now. I’m here now.” He kissed your forehead and held you again. Until you hissed when he touched your boils.

“Oh shit! I had them too see-“ he showed you the faint scars on his hands.

“I need to get freshwater.” He began to get up but you held onto his hand. “Don’t leave” you whispered.

He stared at you for a moment too long, his eyes laced with concern.

“Finnick! I need water.” Peeta yelled at the group that was a safe distance away.

While you waited, Peeta brushed hair out of your eyes that was covered in blood and sand, just like the rest of you and you squeezed his arm in pain.

“It’s okay.” He kept repeating. Kissing your head despite your state.

When finnick returned Peeta poured water all over your boils and you screamed in pain as they vanished.

“Thank you.” You smiled sadly. Overwhelmed. Peeta often said you were a kind sole, you wouldn’t hurt a fly at home, literally. You sang songs and picked flowers. You weren’t meant for this. Nobody was really….

“Come on, let’s wash you off…if at least half this blood is yours, we’re in serious trouble.” He joked and you attempted to laugh. He picked you up bridal style.

You would argue that you could do it yourself but it just wasn’t true.

He dipped you into the salt water. You hissed in pain, clutching his wetsuit.

“I know it stings. I’m sorry.” He rubbed your arm but kept you underwater.

“It okay. Thank you.” You whispered again, almost scared something bad would happen like it had been. One after the other. Peeta cupped water into his hand and tilted your head back rinsing the blood out of your hair and carefully brushing through it with his fingers.

He washed you off, holding you with one had at all times. Afraid to let you go. He was careful around your cuts and scrapes.

“I killed her.” You let out, staring at nothing.

He stopped his movements and just helped you too his chest.

“Who?” He whispered.

“Six… she tried to save me and-“ you chocked on your tears.

“Hey hey hey, it’s okay…I’m here. You don’t have to talk about it now.” He assured.

You were both wrinkly like the raisins Peeta used in his raisin bread back home by the time you got out the water.

You tried to walk but you could barely stand on your right foot.

“What happened?” Finnick asked before Peeta got the chance.

“Mutts.” You answered simply, trying to see the gash on the back of your calf.

You almost fell but Peeta caught you. He picked you up agin and placed you on the leaves they were using as beds in the sand tonight.

“Now we match.” Peeta smiled at you pulling up the leg of his wetsuit to reveal his prosthetic leg.

You laughed, for the first time in days.

The others were asleep while Peeta took the first watch. You sat in his lap, and wrapped your legs around his torso, like a koala.

Head on his chest listening to his heartbeat as he leaned against a tree looking at the waves.

“I thought I lost you.” He whispered, a tear running down his face. You sat up slightly to wipe it. “Me too.” You assured and squeezed his hand.

“So much for sticking together.” He half laughed.

“Yeah.” You looked at his brown eyes and played with his blonde fringe. He leaned in and Kissed you gently but passionately. Holding your cheek and pulling you in by your back. Carefully avoiding your right leg that was tediously bandaged with leaves and vines.

When you broke apart for air. You smiled softly at each other. Heart still heavy from the past two days.

“I love you n/n.” He spoke with only truth in his tone. It wasn’t just an act and you knew that.

“I love you too…so much.” You teared up thinking about how you were going to have to say goodbye soon.

You resumed your position on his chest and fell asleep to his hand rubbing your back and his whispers of “it’s okay.” And “I love you.”

[chessb0r3d]

i cracked the code.

[justaz]

merlin being so overwhelmed by everything he’s been put under, crumbling under the weight of destiny and being pulled in so many different directions he’s being torn apart, going to the one person who can offer him the most comfort out of everyone, his best friend, his other half. arthur who doesn’t realize whats happening until he turns and sees merlin’s desolate expression and tear filled eyes. merlin going “i know you are king (or prince) and you refuse to call me your friend, but you are mine and i really, really need my friend right now.” and before arthur can manage a word, merlin is stumbling forward into arthur’s arms and pulling him into a desperate hug, muffling his sobs as best he can but arthur can still feel the tears soaking his shoulder. arthur not asking any questions and just wrapping his arms around merlin while he breaks down.

[minniiaa]

Pirate King Luffy on his throne with Law on his lap holding him tighty against his now much larger frame with a content smirk on his face, hands down his pants. Law does his best to hold back his moans of pleasure knowing he won’t last long with Luffy touching him so perfectly after a few weeks apart.

“Gotta make sure you remember who you belong to, Torao,” Luffy breathes in his ear, Law’s head falling back against his shoulder as his eyes flutter shut, the possessive words of his lover enough to bring him to his climax.

Like he could ever forget.

[riant-draws]

really putting the angle in strangle amirite

more fanart for The Theraprist, this time chapter 25! go throw the author (@bapple117) some love!

[holy-puckslibrary]

━ 𝐚𝐥𝐥-𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐫𝐨𝐝𝐞𝐨 𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬.

main masterlist

pairing(s) — bull-rider!MATTHEW TKACHUK x barrel racer!hughes!reader (can be read as an unnamed oc) wc — 1.8k synopsis — wear the hat, ride the cowboy—even if it might get you disowned.

note — there's one line referring to the reader as jack's twin, but no physical description is given. also, this one-shot is a "party favor" from our feb slumber party

specific content warnings under the cut.

cw — quinn being a dramatic, misogynistic douche-canoe 3000 for the entirety (ratty matty has his moments, too), no actual smut but it's heavily implied they do the dirty on the reg, a disgustingly intimate situationship — ick, off-color comment(s) relating to first times and the concept of virginity, lots and lots of familial angst (jack is a snake), oh! and more than a few loose ends... but you know the drill by now, i'm incapable of keeping a story contained

“Go on, Palomino Princess. Ride me like one of your ponies.” 

Condescension drips from the lazy taunt. Matthew earns a palm to the chest for it; her ire lands with a faint thud, but he doesn’t mind. He gets off on riling her up, and after two years of backseat meetings and hushed phone calls, he’s damn good at it too. That, and she might be the most reactive person he’s ever met—and that’s saying something. 

Matthew’s been going head-to-head with all three of her brothers for over a decade, and he’s known their family for even longer. Having a short fuse must be genetic.    

“Y’won’t break me if that’s the hold-up. S’gonna take a hell of a lot more than a dry humpin’ buckle bunny to put me outta commission, sweetheart.” 

He knows damn well she ain’t anywhere close to the derogatory term, but he likes what the complete disregard for her accomplishments does to her deceptively cherubic face. 

It may look less harrowing than every other event on the card, but barrel racing ain’t for the faint-hearted. The event is a death wish personified, and it feels about as good as someone taking a metal pipe to both shins. It takes balls—metaphorically, in her case—to charge into an arena on an American Quarter horse with the intention of guiding it through a cloverleaf pattern around three barrels while sprinting at top speed, but it takes dedication and skill to succeed the way she has. The winner is determined by just thousandths of a second. 

The woman perched on his tailgate is unmatched—undefeated.  

Flames of pride lap at his loins, the fire of desire stoked by the wicked roll of her hips. 

“Ohh—shit!” Matthew hisses, his head lolling back as his hips buck into her heat. 

She smirks, apparently vindictive as ever. “How’s that, cowboy? Everything you dreamed?” 

“And more,” he growls as he grabs a fistful of her backside. 

His grip is tighter than it needs to be as he switches positions. Not nearly as rough as she would prefer it; beggars can’t be choosers.  

Matthew steps between her knees, and, despite herself, she shivers with anticipation. Chuckling, amusement twinkles in his baby blues. “Now give me a kiss, sweetheart. My lips are feelin’ a little lonely tonight, and you happen to be wearin’ my hat, Little Miss.” 

He flicks the brim of his hat. She catches it before it hits the ground before plopping it back on the rightful owner, the damage already done.  

“You just love that antiquated rule,” she shakes her head while most definitely laughing at his expense. “Y’wouldn’t see any action without it, now would you?” 

Matthew grins. Trading insults is his favorite form of foreplay. “Neither would you. Isn’t that your signature move, outlaw?”

“I should kick you to the back of the line with that attitude. Hell, I’d probably be better off keeping you at a distance anyway.” 

“Keep mouthin’ off and see how far it gets ya. Definitely nowhere near that McMansion castle you call home, that’s for sure.” 

“Oh, don’t you worry ‘bout me, sugar. I’ve got plenty of options if I need a ride home.” 

“I’ll bet, show pony. Sexiest can chaser east of the Mississippi; who wouldn’t be chomping at the bit to carry Cinderella home to her Daddy?” 

Men have a habit of gawking at her; Matthew has a habit of relieving them of their teeth. 

He leans in to taunt her ear with greedy lips and barbed arrogance. “Best of luck finding one that’ll fuck you better than me.”     

“Do you think about other guys fucking me often?” she fires without missing a beat.

More than he would like, actually.

With a heavy, drawn-out sigh, he runs a hand over his face. His patience is running thin, and his jeans are starting to chafe. Exasperated, he tries coaxing her to reason, “Sweetheart, c’mon. We both know you want this—want me. Stop makin’ this so damn hard.” 

“Why? Because you already are?” 

Matthew makes an exaggerated show of play-biting her scrunched-up nose. 

“Woman, you drive me insane.”

“It’s why you’re so obses—“ 

Her teasing is thwarted by the sound of her own name. Spat out of her older brother’s mouth like a heirloom gone sour, it's no great surprise Quinn looks at her like he can’t recognize her. Like a stranger—like a traitor. 

Guilt, thin and fleeting, pieces the tenderness between her ribs. 

She squirms, attempting to put some distance between them as if that could erase the discovery—and her culpability—from his mind. Matthew and his shit-eating grin keep her from getting too far but don’t be fooled. This is no chivalrous encouragement to stand her ground. It’s got nothing to do with her and everything to do with her brother. 

Quinn rages outside the hauler housing Matthew’s precious 3500 Laramie. Walking by, seeing the main trailer hitched Brady’s F-350 made his stomach churn. It didn’t sit right, and now he knew why. 

“You can’t be serious! Nuh-uh, no—no fucking way. Get out here before I drag you out myself.”  

At his tone, what little remorse she felt dissipates. They were both far too old for his tired, overbearing song-and-dance. 

“Who died and made you king?” 

Quinn, blinded by overripe anger, sweeps over the irritation, twisting her tongue and the disbelief arching her brow. “I thought I made myself clear last time. Don’t make me repeat myself.” 

“Oh, crystal, Quinny.” Matthew snorts at the juvenile nickname but is swiftly cajoled into silence with a pinch to the side. “Message received.” 

“Then quit screwin’ around and get your ass back to the truck before Dad blows a gasket. He’s been lookin’ all over for you. So, you best be thanking your lucky stars I got here first. That its me catchin’ you red-handed colluding with the enemy.” 

He’s so serious, nearly shaking with rage, it’s difficult not to laugh. She can count on one hand the instances wherein her brother became visibly angry—all of them involving the man standing between her dangling feet. She fares better than him, but that’s to be expected. Unlike her accomplice, for her, there’s real risk involved. 

“Just ‘cause I heard you don’t mean I have to listen.” 

Lips pressed to her temple, Matthew clicks his tongue in approval. ‘Bout damn time she started giving back what Quinn so readily dishes out. 

“Look, y’can spread your legs for anyone with big dreams and a buckle some other night. Parade around the circuit acting like a slut, see if I give a shit. But not tonight. And not with him.” 

The knowing glint in Quinn’s blackened eyes is telling, but it isn’t as menacing as he thinks it is. The Hughes heir apparent couldn’t be judge, jury, and executioner. He doesn’t have a lick of proof. Just suspicion and a personal vendetta the size of Texas. 

A safety net swaying below, Matthew decides to have a little fun. “Whoa, settle down, Trust Fund. Y’can’t talk to a lady like that, ‘specially not your sister.” 

He’s no white knight, but he can pretend. 

And isn’t that what you’re all doing? Pretending to be people you aren’t. Acting out your roles, putting on a show. After all, a performance will always be more entertaining than the truth. 

“—and here I thought etiquette classes were a Rodeo Royalty rite of passage. Glad t’know she ain’t the only roughneck hellion in your family tree, Huggy.” 

Quinn’s jaw tightens. His tongue threatens to put a hole through his cheek. Hands on his hips, the eldest sibling only nods. He ignores Matthew entirely. 

“Real winner y’got there. A class act. You really know how to pick ‘em—cream of the goddamn crop. Say, what’re you gonna do when he inevitably gets bored of you? When he gets his hands on a fresh doe-eyed virgin to tarnish?” 

After she finishes with Matthew, she’s kicking Jack’s sorry ass. 

Those anxieties—and that majorly personal tidbit of information—were shared in confidence. Because unlike her older brother, she trusted her twin. Well, she used to, at least. Luke’ll be over the moon at the chance to be her favorite. 

She bares her teeth like a scorned lapdog. “We’re not kids anymore, Q. You can’t push me around whenever you want or tell me what to do like you’re my father. And you sure as shit can’t bully me into submission, either. Give it up, or get lost.” 

“Whatever,” Quinn barks as he backs away from the trailer. “Your fuckin’ funeral.” 

Listening to the fading sound of her brother’s Ariats pounding through the dirt, she buries her face in the warm, familiar crook of Matthew’s neck; she needs a moment alone. He seems to understand this, his mouth zipped shut as he runs calloused hands up and down her sides. She’s breathing heavily, but he does her the simple mercy of leaving it be. 

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think I was growing on you,” Matthew hums, a low-maintenance attempt to lighten the mood. 

They don’t do the touchy-feely BS. It’s one of the things that reeled him in—and kept him coming back. 

“But you do.” She pulls away to look up at him, chin resting on his sternum. He hates that her melancholic eyes are red-rimmed. “—and stop thinking, it doesn’t suit you.” 

“And what does, princess? I’m dyin’ for your insight.” 

“Shut the door and I’ll show you.” 

He blinks, taken aback. Who is this brazen tart, and when did she take your place? Matthew wonders to himself. Maybe he is the bad influence everyone paints him as… He hasn’t really thought about it until now, and it's troubling the way it makes his chest tighten. 

Matthew clears his throat—and, from his mind, the distressing notion that he’s ruined someone good with his carelessness—as he leans over. 

“Yes, ma’am.” 

He pulls the hauler’s heavy metal door shut with clamorous finality.  

Matthew Tkachuk might be the most self-serving swindler on dirt, but Quinn Hughes is just another name on his list. A box to tick and then forget. He wouldn’t lose sleep, it wasn’t like their friendship meant a damn thing. Not anymore. A friend turned foe, reduced to another obstacle in his way, a hurdle to jump. 

Tonight, his sister’s fealty; tomorrow, his title.

Retribution is at his fingertips, so close he can taste it. Yet, it would seem that Matthew merely traded one hornet’s nest for another. 

At least this one’s easy on the eyes. 

⤑ to my inbox💌

⬸ back to the catalog  (writing masterlist) 

⬸ back to the main blog 

All of the stories and fantasies written or discussed on this blog by the owner or by followers are purely fictional and are not intended to offend any parties.

©2024 holy-pucks, all rights reserved. I do not give consent for any of my work to be copied, re-posted, or translated here, on Tumblr, or on any other platform. Reproduction of any content from this blog is considered plagiarism.

[mkpersephone]

We need more X-Men '97/Avengers crossover fanfiction.

It is criminal how few there are.

I need Charles to read to Tony to filth over the Sokovia Accords. I need Erik to be mad at everything and everyone for how they treat Wanda and letting his son die. I need Steve and Logan to sit at the bar and go over wartime stories. I need Kurt and Peter to be friends. I need T'chala to simp over Storm. I need Hank and Bruce to be science bros. I need Scott to be totally done with all this shit. I need Jean to cook.

[myfavoritesstuff]

So there was this dialogue about Z's choice of dress, pointing towards the "weird body modifications to his teeth" and y/n said she wonders, "if they hurt?" I knooow she might've meant it must have been painful for him to get his teeth like that but, what if we took it the other way? What if she unconsciously voiced this thought in another situation? Would they really hurt? A neck bite? Smut please.

Embrace of Shadows

Pairing: Z (from Favor) x Reader

Prompt: How did it lead to this? Being curious leads to something more.

Note: This is a smut! I hope I understood this request correctly. Sorry if I didn’t, but either way, I had a lot of fun writing this. Please read all the way through, it gets better, I promise! NOT PROOFREAD

I wonder if they hurt…

"Curious, aren't you?" Z's voice was a whisper, “why do you stare at my teeth?"

You blushed, realizing you had been caught. "I apologize," you stammered. "It's just...they're so different. I've never seen teeth like yours."

Z tilted their head, studying you with eyes that seemed to pierce their very soul. "Sharp teeth are a necessity for survival," they said. "For feeding. For protection."

Your heartbeat quickened. "Would it hurt?" they blurted out. "If you were to bite me?"

Z's lips curved into a half-smile. "Ah, the curiosity of mortals," they murmured. "You wonder about pain, about pleasure. About surrender."

Your mind raced. They hadn't meant to reveal such thoughts, but now the question hung in the air like a forbidden fruit. "Would it?" You pressed, their heart now pounding in their chest.

Z got up from the opposite side of the table and stepped closer, their breath cool against your skin. "Pain and pleasure," they whispered. "Two sides of the same coin. To be bitten by a demon is to dance on the precipice of both."

Your heart still pounded. You should run, flee from this dangerous allure. But something held you in place—the pull of forbidden desire, the thrill of surrendering to the unknown.

And then Z's lips brushed against your neck, and all rational thought fled. Their teeth sank into your flesh—not cruelly, but with a hunger that ignited every nerve. Pain flared, then melted into something else—an ache that bordered on ecstasy.

You gasped, your fingers tangling in Z's hair.

You could feel Z start to bite a little harder, starting to drink from them, drawing sustenance from their life force, and you surrendered willingly, lost in a dance of pleasure and pain.

When Z finally pulled away, You swayed a bit, dizzy and sated. Their neck bore twin punctures, a mark of Z's possession.

“Z…” You let out a soft whisper.

“Y/n…” his voice was deep. Your breath caught in your throat as Z pressed their body closer to yours. Z’s touch ignited a fire within you that threatened to consume everything.

“Y/n” they whispered, “keep your eyes on me, okay? I only need you to see and think only of me.”

A devilish smirk made its way onto their face. “You think you can do that, darling?”

Swallowing, you nodded. Their smirk turned into a small smile. “Good because after tonight, I won’t ever let you go or see anyone else with those precious eyes of yours.”

Z’s words made you feel warm inside. You never had someone talk to you this way before. Your thoughts were interrupted by Z speaking once more.

“I’m going to be taking what’s mine now. I hope you’re up for a few rounds.”

Your face flushed at their words, yet you did not stop them when they grabbed you by the arm and turned you around so you were facing the table. Their claw-like nails then proceeded to rip your clothing apart, leaving you exposed for them to see.

While the air was cold, your body felt hot. Just imagining the things Z could do to you made you feel excited. Z then began to strip themself of their own clothing. Once fully striped you could feel them start to trace their fingers along your body. You shivered as Z’s fingers started to travel lower.

“I want to taste you so badly”. As they said that, they kneeled down with one hand pushing you down so your ass was spread for them.

Their fingers made their way down to your hole, and started circling it. You gasped as they then stuck their forked tongue into your hole, stimulating the area inside. You grasped onto the table, as your legs started to shake from the pleasure you felt. Their tongue worked wonders as all you could do was grip onto the table.

Z seemed to notice this, for they suddenly pulled themselves away from your hole, stood up and turned you around. They then started to passionately kiss you and their hands made their way under your legs, signaling you to wrap yourself around his waist.

Your mind was in a haze. All you could focus on was him. Suddenly you felt something around your hole once more. As you felt them slip in, your immediately clenched around them. Groaning in response to you, they gripped hard on your legs, making you gasp.

They took this opportunity to slip their tongue into your mouth, making its way around your own tongue and to the back of your throat.

You slightly gagged on it but didn’t mind as you were overcome with an immense amount of pleasure.

Their thrusts hadn’t helped either as their hips angled themselves to hit a certain spot inside. Feeling the way their cock spread you open had you moaning their name. It was almost as if they were shaping your inside to the shape of them.

Your eyes rolled back as you felt an intense sensation wash over you. Moaning out their name again, you felt yourself come down from your high. Z however did stop, in fact; they kept going and increased their pace, trying to reach what you felt moments ago.

Whining from overstimulation you placed your head on their chest, letting them continue with their pace until they eventually reached their end. And it wasn’t long after until Z did. However once they were finished, you could feel a trail of their cum going down your leg.

You heard them make a sound of displeasure as they started thrusting back into you pumping the cum back into your hole. You gasped as you groaned from the pleasure that started to build up again, and you gently grabbed onto his shoulder.

“I hope you weren’t thinking that I was done with you, cause I told you that we were going for a few rounds.”

[jarofstyles]

The Favor 10

It’s been 800 years… but she’s back! The duo has arrived. I can’t wait to see what you guys think of them

The Favor masterlist

Check out our Patreon for early access to part 11 and 190+ exclusive writings

WC- 7.8k

Warnings- aftercare, dom/sub dynamic, mention of cuckolding, theyre kinda fucked up about Danny but fuck that man, slight mention of anxiety, oral sex, mention of edging, daddy kink(very brief) domesticrry

Aftercare was one of her absolute favorite parts of being with Harry.

Sitting in the warm, silky bath water after returning home from the club, she had been babied, petted and loved on more than she ever knew in her life. Rings off of his fingers, he ran them over her body with the sweet smelling body wash as he kept her laid on his chest. Her nose nudged the crook of his neck, cheek on one of the inked numbers on his collarbones. He’d messily tied her hair up on her head, ensuring it wouldn’t get too wet. It was the little things

“What did we like, what were we not so fond of, and what surprised you?” His voice vibrated against her cheek as he inquired about her experience. The dominant had taken incredible care of her tonight, swiftly letting them leave after she recovered in his lap with sweet kisses and her focus solely on him. His clean hand had caressed her cheek and he’d tugged her panties back over her before ushering her out as soon as her legs felt strong enough. He’d put her coat on her, adjusted her hair and placed a few kisses on her cheek as they waited for the elevator with a promise of getting them a playroom the next time they came so they’d not need to rush home.

His reference to his house as ‘home’ had left her feeling more warm and fuzzy in her gut than she could care to admit.

“I liked all of it, except maybe having to leave so quick.” She’d sunken into his hold, letting him run the warm washcloth over her chest as she spoke. “I liked your idea of getting a room next time so we don’t have t’run home so fast after. But I liked all of what we did.” Her eyes looked over his hands, the bones of his knuckles and the cross inked near his thumb. Her tummy turned slightly at the idea of everyone having been able to see that same hand around her throat, squeezing it to keep her quiet. That cross tattoo against her skin. Blasphemy had never felt so good.

“Mmm. Noted. I noticed you seemed rather calm when we were at the table originally.” He pointed out the behavior. “Did you like being on your knees for me like that? What was goin’ on in that pretty little head of yours?” The tone of it restrained just how badly he wished he could crawl in her head and read every thought she had like a book. Though sometimes there was a thought that maybe he could. He did well enough with knowing what she felt through body language alone.

“Honestly?” A little laugh erupted from her swollen lips. “Not a lot. It was really nice because of it. At first it was a lot of racing thoughts but as I sat there and you kept playing with my hair they all sorta calmed. The one thing I was thinking about, though…” Now that she wasn’t looking right at his face it felt a little easier to divulge some of the things that had her a little embarrassed. “I kept thinking about if I was gonna be naughty, cause I really wanted to suck you off.” The admission lingered like the steam on the bathroom mirror. “I was debating if you’d let me, if you’d get mad at me. But I didn’t want to chance asking because…” The bravery she’d originally conjured up had faltered slightly, which he noticed.

“Because what, love?” He asked genuinely. “Y’know you can ask me for anything. M’never going to get mad at a request- you just have to be open to hearing the word no and waiting for it.” Harry had a hard time telling her no, but he wasn’t sure she knew just how far that went. As a dominant, he’d found a healthy medium with her where he could do it for the sake of knowing what she needed to get her the best results, but as Harry? She had no idea the power she wielded over his weak will.

“Well, I was nervous that if I upset you or went off script that maybe you’d like- you’d not want to bring me anymore, or be my dominant. I know that most of the submissives you’ve brought there had some idea of it and I know you’re only doing this as a favor so I don’t want to risk you decided I’m too much of a brat-” Y/N’s entire world was flipped as her body was turned over, a startled squeak leaving her as Harry manhandled her to be straddled on his lap as opposed to sitting back to front.

“Stop right there.” His voice rasped, hand coming behind her neck to hold lightly. “There is a lot wrong with what you just said.” Nerves swelled in her belly as she caught a glimpse of his face, but there wasn’t true anger in his features. Concern, maybe? “ First of all, I wouldn’t just stop playing with you because you decided you felt a little bratty. Do you know what I would have done if you’d have been a brat?” Green looked at her expectantly, watching her shrink slightly under his gaze, shaking her head in response. “I’d have punished you. Maybe taken you over my lap and gave your ass a few swats, maybe I’d make you warm my cock with your mouth, or fucked your throat without giving you my cum. I could’ve even made it so you didn’t orgasm tonight. But it’s part of playing. I would never think of you as a bad submissive because of that. You’ve already told me you wanted to test some of that out as it is.” The feeling that had settled in his chest at the idea of her feeling insecure about him not wanting her was uncomfortable to say the least. Maybe he hadn’t spelled it out clear enough, but it was time to do that now.

“And the most ridiculous part of what you said- hey, look at me. Look at me, Y/N. Oi, sweetheart… You’re not in trouble.” His voice softened as he saw her wince, not at all wanting this to turn into a real scolding. The tone had been a bit intense considering how fully he felt about it, but she couldn’t read his mind. It had been unfair of him to think she would. “There we go. Thank you.” When she returned to his gaze, he leaned forward to peck the corner of her mouth- it was something he couldn’t help. “The most ridiculous part of all of that was you saying that I’m only doing this as a favor because…” His mouth felt a little dry as he broached the subject. “That isn’t the case in the slightest. I wouldn’t have done this only as a favor, Y/N. I would have accompanied you to find someone else to help you if need be, but if I had no sort of fondness over you at first sight, no attraction, I would have denied. If we’re being honest here, it isn’t an ideal situation.” It was immediate that he could see her eyes falter, making him curse internally.

“Darling, none of that. No. M’not going where you think I am.” Squeezing the back of her neck, he tried to offer more physical comfort. “What I’m saying is going into this I had no idea what to expect, but we fell into it so naturally. Didn’t we?” The corners of his lips twitched as he watched her nod in agreement. “Yeah. It was very easy for us to fall into it. You’re such a fast learner, such a good girl, I enjoy every single moment between us. In the arrangement or not. I’m not just doing this as a favor to your shitty boyfriend, darling. M’doing this because I want to be.” The statement hung between them for a few moments before he continued, noting the surprise on her face. “I really don’t think there’s anything you can do to make me want t’stop doing this with you. I know it’s inappropriate to say that, I know you’ve got a complicated situation going on with him, but there are things we need to talk about soon and I think that it’s better suited for a fresh mind that isn’t emotionally wrought after such an experience.”

There was a hint at what it was obviously about, that there were more feelings than either of them had bargained for, but after an intimate moment and the visit to the club he was making sure she had time to think on it and relax before he dropped a bomb that would inevitably change the relationship.

As much as he wanted to be selfish right now, he cared too much about her. He liked her so much that it knocked the wind out of him if he thought about it for too long. Moving his grip, his hand cupped her chin as he searched her face. Conflict, interest, relief, attraction, there were a lot of big emotions he could place on her face, but he couldn’t make out what to fully make of them.

“Okay.” Y/N sighed, lifting her wet hand to the back of his neck to mirror how he’d been holding her. It felt slightly possessive in nature and he had to admit that he really fucking liked how it felt. “Is it okay if we kiss, though? Even now?”

Harry was right to wait because obviously her brain was still a little fuzzy from their play earlier if she thought she had to ask for permission to kiss him. As if he didn’t want their mouths attached for hours at a time. Leaning himself up off of where he’d leaned his neck against the back of the tub, he connected their lips in a soft gesture. Thumbing over her chin, affections clear with how tenderly he touched her. She was so soft, so pliant in his arms that he could feel her melting at the kiss. This was what he wanted.

If he had it his way, he would have her in his bath or shower every single night. There would be no ‘going home’ because this would be her home. This would be her bathroom, and she’d leave her mascara tubes on the vanity that he’d inevitably put away later when she was asleep or otherwise distracted.

“Just to ease your fears a little…” She spoke lightly against his lips. “Whatever the discussion, I’m sure that however you feel is the same as I do. So don’t worry about a thing.”

Her reassurance, despite being the one who initially needed it, touched him. Sometimes he forgot he needed that too, and Y/N had been the one so far to remind him that the right person would check in on him too. As much as he loved and craved being the one in control, feeling cared for beyond the ropes and leather was something that he really loved. “Ditto, darling.” He laughed quietly. “Let me finish washing you up so we can have a proper cuddle, okay?”

“Yes, sir.”

—-

Harry had left momentarily to grab himself a refill on his water bottle- and to fill her own. It has become a bit of a habit now, seeing things and being reminded of Y/N. It had started slowly at first, reminders trickling in when he cleaned up after she left and the house felt weirdly empty. Then it was seeing the menu and a meal she would probably like, or the song she had showed him played in the radio. The pink pony song, more specifically. A car that looked like hers.

It had snowballed into him finding bits of her in everywhere he went. Realistically he knew he was in dangerous territory, not even bothering to duck for cover anymore as he made sure the straw was clean and popped the lid back onto the blue coated aluminum bottle. A powder blue with cherries and strawberries decorated all over it, something he had a feeling she would like based off of the cherry print panties she had ‘accidentally’ left here and the same ones he had lost his mind over finding.

It was a little bit of a blurred line, if he was allowed to buy her gifts like this, but he wanted to and she deserved cute little trinkets so when he’d seen it while shopping for some new food storage for his snacks, he’d thrown caution to the wind and added it to his cart.

It was ridiculous to be worried about her reaction to a water bottle, but he still was. He didn’t want to overstep but he also didn’t want to hide all of his intentions anymore. Harry liked her, liked-her liked her. He wanted her. There was no doubt in his mind he could provide leaps and bounds more for her than her current partner who had effectively handed her over to him on a silver platter, something he couldn’t ever dream of doing.

Harry knew that if he got the privilege of calling the woman his in all senses, he’d do anything he could to make her happy himself. No other men would be touching her. Looking? Fine. Welcomed, even with him being borderline selfish thus far. But touching would never happen because he wanted to own the rights to her orgasms and her nails in his skin and the trembling limbs underneath him. The taste of her mouth and the heat of her wrapped around him. No one else would get the pleasure.

It went beyond that, though. Walking up the steps with the bottles in hand, ice clinking in the out of them, he felt light thinking about walking in to see her with her hair piled on her head and one of his shirts on top of her form. She would be in his bed, safe and sound, waiting for him to hold her in his arms and relax her enough to sleep.

He also had to tell her about the text that had been waiting on his phone, but he wasn’t sure just how to break that.

The view was just as amazing as he imagined it, the girl sitting cross cross on her side of the bed with her phone in her hand- which was promptly clicked shut as he gained her attention.

“I got you something.” He murmured, sitting himself next to her. “It’s uh- I saw it the other day and it reminded me of you. The colors and the fruits on it. I figured you could have something to stay on your side of the bed.”

Y/N took the bottle in her hand, eyes widening slightly as she brought it up to take a look at it. His eyes studied her as she looked at the bottle, then back to him, then to the bottle. He hadn’t expected her to place the bottle to the side or for her eyes to be teary when she turned back to him, but there was little time to react before she threw herself at him. Climbing into his lap, her fingers splayed on his cheeks as she kissed over his lips and chin, making him laugh in surprise at such a large reaction. It was just a water bottle, but he wasn’t going to complain.

“Woah- woah, darling.” He chortled, wrapping an arm around her while putting his own bottle on the nightstand. “You alright?”

Concern brewed from the tears, but her smile was there as she nodded quickly. “Yeah! Yeah, I’m happy. I thought the kisses would show that- ouch!” The sass was interrupted by a pinch to her ass, Harry smirking as she gave him a look before it softened. The dynamic had shifted. It wasn’t just him being ‘Sir’ right now- that’s the same thing he’d do to Y/N. Not just his Pet.

“They did, even if they came from a smart mouth. I’m just unsure why you’re still crying, love.” He kept his tone light while wiping away a tear track, but it felt good to know it was a happy tear. There was no instance that Y/N would look bad. He was fully convinced of this.

“It’s just- I’ve never had someone do that before. I always hear people talk about their friends or significant others who say ‘oh, I saw this and thought of you’ and gave them something. And it isn’t about getting anything with money! It could be a rock, for all I care. It’s just… I dunno.” She ducked her head slightly, looking at his bare torso. “It felt nice to have that. It’s never been me, you know? Not saying no one cares about me but just in general, I think it means more because you… you know me better than most do.”

Even in the short time they’d known each other, Y/N was fairly certain Harry knew her better than Danny. Listened better, too. Every gift she had gotten from Danny had been something she had to point out. Nothing of his own accord. Every day with Harry had her questioning why she was still with the other man, even if only in name right now.

“You deserve those things. I wasn’t sure if it was an overstep so I.. I held off a bit on giving it to you. But if you’re okay with this sort of thing, it’s very often in my day that I find things that make me think of you. Is it okay if I get them? Give you gifts?” The question was asking permission so she didn’t feel overwhelmed or indebted. He wanted to do this. She hadn’t asked or implied it, but he liked giving her things. Orgasms, water bottles, smoothies, the lot.

“I… well, as long as it isn’t really expensive, sure.” She couldn’t be blamed for feeling excited. Having a man who wanted to do that for you, let alone expressing that he thought about her often enough to find things in their daily lives that they felt compelled to buy? He seemed unreal. Part of her wanted to doubt it, think that he wouldn’t actually do it, but Harry’s shown nothing but follow through.

“Amazing.” There was something lighter on his face. “Uh, I don’t want you to think this is just to soften a blow, because I promise that it isn’t. But I wanted to show you a text I got. I didn’t check my phone most of the night but, this was what I got.” The visible nerves on his face had her slightly confused.

Y/N’s brows furrowed as she looked down at his phone, Danny’s contact pulled up. He hadn’t texted since they’d went to meet the first time to discuss this arrangement, but the most recent one had her stomach dropping.

‘Hey h, was wondering how it’s going? I know it’s a weird request but can u ask y/n if she would be down to have me see what it is you guys get up 2? I kno it’s a weird thing to ask and I kno ima little tipsy lol but I keep thinking about what you guys are doing and idk I’m a little jealous. Maybe seeing it will calm that down? Idk idk idk. Can you run it by her?’

Another one followed.

‘We haven’t been talking a lot bc I want 2 give her space to get this out of her system and I don’t want her 2 be mad @ me but idk. I want to see it. Thanks bro’

Y/N sat silently as she looked at the phone, her mind going haywire as she tried to develop the right response. There was one answer she felt currently that was definitely not the right thing to say, but it ended up slipping out of her mouth anyways. It seemed that Harry had mixed some sort of truth serum in his kisses or the fruit he fed her, because her words were probably a bit more truthful than she would have chosen to be.

“Is it bad that I…. I kinda want him to watch? Because I want him to know that he can never do that to me?” She whispered, dropping the phone on the bed next to them, turning her head to look at him. It was slightly uncomfortable to say but if they were going for the truth, she may as well go all the way. Even if it was something that may make her look bad. “I feel like a terrible person. I feel like…. He’s made me feel so shitty, and I want to punish him for it but not in the… I don’t want to use you like that. I want to show that you are the best I’ve ever had and no one can compare to that. So I don’t know. What do you think?”

Harry was delicate in the way he responded for a multitude of reasons, but mostly because shamefully, her answer had truthfully made his cock twitch. Hearing her say that he was the best, that no one else could compare, that she wanted her boyfriend to see that Harry was the one who made her cum… it was tempting. The possessiveness in him liked the idea of laying claim to her that way.

He had tried so hard to be morally correct in this whole thing but the further he fell, the less he cared about Danny. The more he resented him. But if he wanted to subject himself to watching him fuck his girlfriend, if he wanted to see how much Harry could provide that he never could, if Y/N felt that way about it, maybe he could let morals cool down and do something that was a bit selfish.

But the real question was being raised in his head and he had to know the answer before he gave a yes. He had to know. The silence was louder than anything he’d heard before and he knew that it was now or never. Maybe it wasn’t the perfect time to ask, but he had to.

“Are you going to get back together with him, Y/N?” His question caught her off guard, but there wasn’t much hesitance with her answer.

“No.” She inhaled shakily. “I think… I know he can’t give me what I want.” Instant relief, instant gratification. He had a chance. He could have her, if he played his card right. There was no room for guilt anymore.

“Who can?” Harry’s hand crept under her shirt, leaning into her and letting their noses brush. His heart was thundering and he could feel her nerves but she was his brave girl. “Hm? Who can give you what you want?”

“You can.” The words were quiet, but the room was silent. He could hear a pin drop if his heart wasn’t beating hard in his ears. It was hard to believe she was giving him the answer he wanted all on her own, eyes searching hers as she gave into him. He could feel the shift, feel how she was handing a little more of herself over.

“Yeah. I can.” He confirmed, running his nose along the side of her cheek. “I can give you exactly what you want. So… yes. I think we should do it.” Fingers splayed along her bare back, pulling her into his body as her face nestled itself against his throat and he ghosted his lips against her hair. “M’not going to let you down like he’s done. So I’ll text him back. I’ll schedule it for next weekend… and then you’ll do it.”

What laid beyond that wasn’t completely certain. She could back out and decide not to break up with him, but Harry truly didn’t think that would be the case. She seemed certain on her own and without his pushing, but maybe he’d given her a bit of a gentle nudge himself.

Maybe she’d need a taste of what Harry could be like as a boyfriend and not just a dom.

——

Y/N woke up to soft kisses on her cheeks. A large hand under her shirt, similar to last night, but slow caresses moving rhythmically up and down her ribcage. Legs tangled together, she felt Harry notice she was awake but didn’t say a word as he connected their lips in a proper kiss.

Something last night had shifted them. She had a feeling it was the confirmation she wouldn’t be staying with Danny, but even more so that he had been confirmed to be the one who was able to give her what she wanted. As wrong as it may be to go through with that, she didn’t care.

Waking up to the most incredible shows of affection, something the other man had never truly given her besides a cuddle every once in a while, she had a glimpse of what Harry was truly like with her. A layer peeled back as the soft sounds of slow kissing filled the bedroom. Arching into him, she lazily draped her arm over his shoulder and felt him smile into the kisses, his own shaky exhale making her think about the fact that she probably wasn’t the only one heavily affected by it.

“Hi.” Pulling back nearly hurt her, but she wanted to hear his voice. The mornings in his bed she had experienced so far had been some of the best she could have ever imagined. It would have been a hint to her earlier that her relationship with Danny would be- should be- finished, just by how hard her heart beat when he laid in the bed next to her. Harry’s treatment of her had always been exceptionally gentle, but it took on a new meaning just by the look in his eyes as he met her sleepy ones.

“Hello.” He whispered, knuckles caressing the side of her cheek, still slightly marked from the pillow. Such a tiny detail, but it only seemed to make him feel more fond. “I tried to let you sleep for a bit, but… got a bit bored, if I’m honest.” The boyish smile was so different to the sensual, flirty ones she had gotten used to. It sparked a new sort of fluttering in her belly as he leaned his cheek into the pillow, looking her over. Studying her. Maybe she should feel a little more self conscious by such a close proximity examination, but she didn’t. Not in the slightest.

“S’okay.” She replied, eyes fluttering closed as he switched to fingertips mapping over her face as he pleased. “I don’t want to sleep the whole day away. I know you said you wanted to go somewhere today.”

In all honesty she was giddy at the idea of it. Harry had mentioned a little farmers market where he wanted to get some goat cheese to make this ravioli from scratch for dinner, and French bread that he claimed he could make but felt a little lazy in the idea of doing both homemade pasta and bread. Y/N couldn’t really be added to do either, so he wouldn’t have heard complaints from her either way.

“Mhm. I wanted t’make breakfast with you, though. Gonna get lunch out, but I think we could make some kick ass French toast. I’ve got this blueberry syrup and we can toast some pecans with brown sugar… trust me.” He inhaled deeply, pulling her into his body with the arm under her waist. “It’ll be so worth it.” His lips hovered over hers, giving a soft kiss to the swollen mouth before he forced himself to pull back. It was easy to get carried away. “I’ve got t’let Buttons out, so you can take a minute to wake up but…” filtering his eyes down towards her body, he took a moment to see the side of his shirt hanging off her shoulder. “Keep my shirt on. Alright? Just the shirt. Nothing else.”

He rolled out of bed, making his way towards the door when Y/N called after him.

“Is it an order from Daddy?” She said coyly, on her side as she ran her hand over the empty side of the bed.

“No. Jus’ something I want to see. Just Harry.”

—-

Harry hadn’t really thought the whole arrangement through.

In theory it had been simple enough, but in practice? It had gotten messy fast. He wasn’t supposed to do a lot of the things he had done for her. Get her gifts, kiss her outside of scenes, text her as much as he did. The biggest one he was positive he shouldn’t have done, though, was fall in love with her.

It wasn’t something he was going to admit to her yet. Even if he wanted to gather her in his arms and whisper it into her throat as he watched her pad into the kitchen with her bum peeking out slightly when she bent to pat Buttons on the head, he would wait. He’d wait as long as he had to, because last night she had restored his faith.

She was going to break up with Danny, and that meant she’d have room for him. He knew this could be considered a full blown affair if someone argued it that way, but in reality he had pushed them at each other. Two people beyond compatible in the bedroom had been shown to have even more of a connection outside of it. They got on incredibly, laughed together, had their little jokes and it had only been a relatively short amount of time compared to the amount she had dated her soon to be ex.

“Hm? Who can give you what you want?”

“You can.”

Fuck. That had been running circles on the hamster wheel that was his brain since she said it. Damn right, he could. He’d do it or die trying.

“How can I help?” She asked with her freshly washed face. The smell of mint and vanilla, her toothpaste and the body spray she had left in the bathroom. He could place them easily.

“Can I trust you to crack two eggs?” He asked with a bump to her hip as he reached over her head to grab a bowl. “Y’kinda give me the vibe that you get shell into it but… I’m willing to give you a chance.”

“You are rude this morning.” Y/N scoffed, hip bumping him back as she went towards the refrigerator. It felt so fucking good to see her in his kitchen. Messy bedhead she’d attempted to tame, his marks on her thighs exposed when she moved the right way, his shirt hanging off her body. This wasn’t the sort of feeling he had towards most of his submissives.

No, this was very clearly girlfriend territory.

“No, sweetheart. M’just joking. You know that.” He plugged in the electric griddle. “I’ve got the black stone outside but if I’m honest, it’s humid out and I can’t be arsed to deal with the whole going in and out thing. So we’ll stick to the kitchen.”

The mention of him being unnaturally attracted to seeing her padding around his kitchen barefoot was nowhere to be found. That was an inside thought for now.

“Whatever you say, boss.” She snorted. “You know I’m exceptionally good at taking orders. Put me to work.”

The quip resulted in a quick slap to her ass, glossed over by his slightly narrowed eyes before he got to talking. Y/N knew how to make French toast, as did a lot of people, but it was stupidly cute to see how focused she got. Making sure no shells got into the egg, whisking it together, sprinkling with cinnamon before Harry took the battered bread and let it sizzle on the cooktop, they worked as a well oiled machine.

“Alright. The final trick is to put the pan into the oven for a few minutes with the brown sugar and blueberry syrup to caramelize it a bit.” He answered her internal question as to why he had been putting them on a baking sheet without her having to ask. It had been so nice to just do something domestic like this. So low key and calm, falling into it like it was something they did daily. He could only wish for that.

Y/N placed the dishes into the dishwasher as he put the baking sheet into the oven and set the timer, giving him a lovely little peek of her ass when he turned back around. She wasn’t trying to be sexy at all, but he found that it just came naturally to her. Perhaps he was just that down bad, that desperate for her, but he felt the itching of his palms to grab her when she stood back up and he decided he wasn’t going to stop it.

Cool marble make her squeal as Harry lifted her up onto the countertop, the quickness of how he got her up there not giving her a second to even really understand what was happening until it was done and her knees were forced open so he could stand between them. “What happened to hello, how are you?”

“Hello.” His hand slipped under the shirt, splaying across the bottom of her spine as he pulled her closer to him. “How are you?” He wasn’t holding back from his pressing thoughts as he finally let himself bury his nose into the crook of her neck, inhaling her scent. The soap from the bath the night before, the vanilla body mist, the lingering of his sheets and imprint of the scent of him. Comfort wrapped around him like a blanket- or better said, her arms- as he felt fingers run over his bare shoulder.

“I’m good.” The lightness of her voice settled something in his stomach. Y/N took most things in stride, but it meant the most that she was taking this part so well. This wasn’t something he’d particularly fully indulged in with her before, but he’d wanted to. That little layer of separation was being chipped away, piece by piece as the connection to her boyfriend fell apart. “How about you?”

Harry pondered for a moment if the truth was something he should fully delve into, or if he should mask it. The depth of what he felt was intense and that wasn’t something he would think she’d be ready to hear quite yet, but he was praying that she would return the sentiments. Maybe after the official breakup. “M’wonderful, baby.” The pet name casually dropped into conversation seemed to effect her, the soft shiver not gone unnoticed. Regretfully, he forced himself to pull his face from her throat after giving a chaste kiss to the side of it to get a look at her features.

It sort of hit him in his stomach when he caught her eyes again. Seeing that fondness reflected back to him, one he knew was radiating off of him in waves, it swelled in his throat as he tried to swallow it back down to his belly. How had such an arrangement ended up in something like this? Handed over one of the most enchanting creatures on a silver platter for him to pluck straight into his lap? It only solidified that Danny had never deserved her.

To have her affections officially, to be the partner of someone who had used to talk highly of him and put up with such half assed attention, he had to wonder how anyone could take it for granted. He’d been in a few relationships, a time or two, and he’d been in love before. He knew he was a different man than her boyfriend, but never in his life would he take a look at the sweet fucking simper she was giving him right now and even fathom the idea of letting anyone else ever touch her. He’d be selfish, rightfully so. Hell, he was selfish now.

Harry was going to fuck her in front of said boyfriend as a parting gift. Show him what happens when you hand over your gift to someone who could treat her better, see the true value in her rather than take her for granted and brush aside her likes as a phase. He was going to take pleasure in every single whimper she gave him, every clench of her cunt, every scratch of her nails, every single time she called his name, because it was going to be a glimpse into her future- without him. Y/N was going to be his, if she allowed it. He was thoroughly prepared to fight and prove himself as someone worthy enough to have access to not only her body, but her heart.

The vision of her under him last night, on her knees with her face the vision of content as she rested her cheek on his knee and her hair stroked back with his fingers taking note of every strand was a reminder of what he could offer her. Y/N had shown him another side that further aided in his thoughts that she was made for him. Their playtime at the club wasn’t something that felt like a one and done- neither had their fuck at the bar right under her boyfriend’s nose as he had chosen to get drunk instead of spend time with the pretty goddess that now sat in his kitchen, with her arms around him. “Are you sore at all?” He knew her body had taken a bit more than one would be used to this weekend. “Are you feelin’ okay?”

“Yeah, I’m okay. I feel good.” She peeped, watching his eyes as fingers pushed hair off of her neck. The marks were steady there, blotches of passion on display. It would be hard to hide them, but he doubted she would want to. “I’m excited to spend the day with you.”

And, god, take him now. His chest heated and his heart melted into a google between his ribs, the smile lifting the corner of his lips inevitable as he was reminded of the day they’d be having. “Me too.” He was beyond excited. Giddy, even, but he had the ability to hide just how worked up it made him. “Gonna have a good day with you. Don’t want you t’go home after, though.” That would be the worst part. She had work the next day and as much as he wanted her to stay….

“Well…” She went shy, making him pause his thought process. “I don’t want to be presumptuous, but i um… I brought my work clothes and laptop. Just in case we got… I dunno what my thought process was. I don’t want to overstay my welcome, but if you really want me to stay-”

“Sweetheart, I don’t want you to go. I hate watching you leave.” He interrupted her. “House feels… Empty, i guess. When you leave I can feel it. I love having this place but I….” His words had left his brain without his permission, but he’d already been digging himself a hole since last night. “I didn’t realize how lonely it could feel until you left. I like how it feels to have you here. It feels right. “ It was a little much, but then again, she didn’t seem thrown off. If anything, her eyes brightened and she sat up a bit straighter.

“If you’re sure. Then yeah, I can stay.”

“Good. Cause knowing what I know now, I don’t think I’d let you leave.”

He just hoped she knew how far that statement really went.

—--------------

“Oh my god-” Her gasping voice broke through the bedroom as she writhed on the bed, her fingers tugging at the back of his head. The hum leaving his throat had her arching up into him, desperate to keep him close as his fingers fucked into her slick hole and his tongue lathed over her swollen clit. “M’gonna cum, m’gonna cum, can I cum?”

The desperation leaked in her voice. It had started out with him teasing her about the plug she’d washed in his bathroom sink from the nights prior and snowballed into him suggesting she wear it out. Suddenly she was on her second orgasm from his ruthless tongue and fingers, her little sundress flipped up over her tummy so it ‘wouldn’t get too dirty’.

“Gosh, I dunno.” Harry hummed, slick lips pulled into a faux frown. “Are you gonna stop fuckin’ teasing me today? Flashing that little cunt at breakfast, walkin’ around in your slutty bra… I already let you cum once.”

“Please, let me. Let me cum, I’ll be good. You can do whatever you want to me when we get home, I’ll suck you for hours, I’ll let you do anything, just let me cum.” Her eyes filled with frustrated tears again, surely messing up her mascara. It seemed to be one of his favorite pastimes, making her cry from pleasure.

“Oh, baby. You sweet little thing, I was already going to do whatever I wanted to you t’night. But I suppose we need to get a move on.” Clicking his tongue, as if it was a shame he couldn’t keep edging her all morning, he let out a sigh of defeat. “Suppose you can. Only because I don’t want t’hear you whining all morning about how mean I am.”

Really, it had been the fact she had called this place home. When we get home. Harry liked that quite a fucking bit.

Returning to his prior place, he let her pull him into her cunt and listened to her sobs of relief as she thanked him, gushing all over his tongue with a moan and trembling thighs locked around his ears. For the first time he let her do what she wanted in that regard, and he couldn't deny how much he loved it. Feeling her buck against his mouth and be unsure whether to push him away or pull him closer, her worked her through it with her cunt gushing around his fingers and swollen clit pulsing against his mouth.

He knew it was going to take him a moment to calm his cock down, but he did like to hold off for a bit. As easy as it would be to flip her over and use her warm, supple pussy to cum into, he wanted to play with her later. The wait would be worth it. Climbing up her body, he cooed softly at her as she looked at him with bleary eyes- only to laugh as her hands caught his face and tugged him down to kiss her. There was that whole other level of satisfaction he felt from having her be frantic for him, knowing she felt even a fraction of how he felt for her.

“You good, angel?” He asked softly, wiping his clean fingers under her eye. It hadn’t caused too much damage, but she’d need to go fix herself up.

“Mhm.” She giggled, nose brushing against hers. “I’m gonna need a moment to get feeling back in my legs. I don’t know how the hell you can do that.”

It was one of those moments that felt far more like a relationship than just a Dom and Sub dynamic. She hadn’t used any honorifics, not had he asked her to. He’d merely gotten to the point and Y/N had happily followed. “I’d apologize but m’not sorry in the slightest.” His smile brightened up his face before it fell slightly, lips falling back on hers. The comfortability around them had changed, merged into something else that he wasn’t sure what to call it- but he liked it. He liked it a lot. “I think after we get back, we can go for a soak in the hot tub. Sound like something you want to do?”

Contrary to popular belief there were differences between the bathtub and and the jacuzzi. He’d fight anyone on it. It was a hill he was willing to die on.

“Okay, that sounds like fun.” With her eyes falling shut, it gave him an opportunity to give her another admiring glance over. Her panties tucked to the side, sweat still beaded at her hairline, she looked so relaxed that he felt proud. He’d been the one to get her to this state. Hopefully she’d let this happen again, and again, and again.

“Perfect. I’ll help you clean yourself up and touch up your makeup and then we can go, okay?” Storoking his knuckles over her lip, he smiled when they pursed to kiss the skin. Such a small action that sent such a big reaction through him. “Think Buttons will want t’go with us?”

That had her eyes popping open, an excited gasp leaving her as she looked back up at him to see if he was serious. “Really? We can do that?”

The excitement was yet another thing that was an arrow right to the heart, having another strand of the thread keeping him from admitting how far gone he was with her fray and snap. Such a small thing had her eyes fucking sparkling up at him and he was probably going to fall over at how much he utterly adored that little look. “Of course we can.” He laughed under his breath. “The market’s outside and we can sit out on a patio for lunch. Get him a treat. It’ll be fun.”

Though when he saw Y/N waiting at the door with his leash in her hand and one of his denim jackets slung over her arms, bouncing on her heels as he approached, he had vastly underestimated how much he could see his future in that very image. Slipping his hand into her own as they walked towards his car and hearing her coo at his dog, talking about how ‘daddy had been so nice to offer them a day out’ before shooting him a wink, he felt the last little bit of that tether snap and the ground beneath his feet felt a lot like the open air.

Harry needed to keep this, recreate it and cherish it forever. If his future didn’t have Y/N hopping into the passenger seat of his car and sneaking Buttons a biscuit? He didn’t want it.

[penvisions]

return the favor {chapter 25}

Pairing: Post-Outbreak! Joel Miller X Smuggler! Reader

Summary: Your intentions are to spin a web of lies to protect Ellie, but Marlene doesn't seem to mind and is willing to trade one body for another. Her righteousness knows no bounds and you realize she's set her sights on you.

Word Count: 5k

Warnings: canon typical violence, canon typical language, cursing, insults, blood, minor injuries, fighting, physical fighting, guns, use of guns, minor character death, end of the world politics, end of the world rhetoric, misplaced heroism and hope, degrading language, marlene needs her own warning, talk of infection, talk of infected people, cordyceps is scary, reader is described as having red hair, reader has a nickname, please let me know if i missed any!

A/N: this was so fun to write, i hope y'all are ready for the last stretch. these two mean so so so incredibly much to me, which i will gush about in each chapter and the epilogue notations from here until the end. this is where the fic gets away from canon a lil bit but it's all for the best, please believe! love y'all

ao3 link || series masterlist || main masterlist || ko-fi

“I can’t believe you made it all this way alone.” She’s stepping close, almost as if she wants to inspect you from head to toe. But you both know there are no teeth marks or infection to be found. Her men would’ve already had you in cuffs and retrained. Condemned to a room with no sunlight until they were ready to deal with you, the Infected something Marlene was rightfully afraid of. But not so much so that she wasn’t cautious to the extreme, to the cunningly meticulous. “Thought you were lost in the aftermath of the convoy we lost outside the QZ.”

“I was scavenging nearby when that explosion went off, FEDRA was all over it within an hour.” You can feel the way her eyes rove over your body, from the simple, dirty clothing you donned to the pack that had seen better days and better loads. It was pretty sparse, you and Joel back to milling through every house or building for the chance at a next meal for Ellie. You two had taken to hunting again, on the way up here, the season warming up and spring allowing for some game to be caught. But you were all tired, this entire journey felt like it was coming to an end.

The energy of your trio something palpable, tense currents underlying every move and every day. The anxiety of Joel leaving you behind to go your own way underlying each conversation. Each interaction when the two of you were alone or Ellie was sleeping. He was trying, so goddamn hard, to make her feel okay. To bring out her manic giggling, her snorting laughter, a wide and gummy smile to her face. But none of it reached her eyes quite the way that it had before.

Marlene must mistake your silence for submission, because she heaves a great sigh and shakes her head.

“I sent Joel this way months ago with a girl in his charge. Haven’t seen hide nor hair of them as of yet. They were supposed to meet up with the convoy, the best protection we could offer for the journey.”

“I ran into them just outside the QZ, there had been an explosion. Too much noise, too much ruckus, it attracted a lot of Infected before FEDRA got their asses out of their heads.” You reach into a pocket, retrieving the map you had torn from the campus grounds so far away now. Well, that Joel had torn from the remnants of their lab. He had told you that nearly everything had been destroyed, no telling how long since they had packed up and moved on. But he had found a scrunched up map, a trail outlined to here.  

Her mouth is a thin line as she regards you, her plush lips taut as she mulls over the recollection and sees evidence that her people weren’t as thorough as she had intended for them to be. Her eyes cut up at you, meeting your own and her next words are a statement, not a question. “You’ve been travelling with him.”

“For a little while, we parted ways in Kansas City. The city was in the middle of an insane civil war once FEDRA was taken out. A hoard took over, from the underground tunnels when someone made the stupid decision to open fire on a crashed vehicle. We got separated.”

“And the girl?”

“Regular infection. From the chaos of getting away from the hoard.” You nodded your affirmation, you recalled the panic in her eyes. The weight of her as you tried to carry her out of that insanity, the pain of your broken arm. The desperation and heartbreak that turning off of the blocked freeway instead of backtracking had ended in. It could’ve been worse, it could’ve ended up the way you’re spinning the facts, an exaggeration of what actually happened.

But there was truth to your words. Ellie had indeed lost something that night, it just hadn’t been her life. It had been her hope in finding a cure, when her blood hadn’t worked on Sam. It was the beginning of her realizing the pedestal Marlene had placed her on with ill intentions.

“She’s dead.” It wasn’t a question. Just like you weren’t asking for her forgiveness for the loss of the young girl and acceptance for your sudden appearance. Your working relationship had always been just that, business. Straight to the point and no nonsense.

“Didn’t survive the infection she got. From trying to save a kid younger than her. Got bit, got clawed. Didn’t turn, but it took her down all the same.”

Marlene sees the challenge in your eyes, the truth of what you know she had been hiding from everyone involved in the convoy. The very reason Ellie had grappled with the meaning of her life for the past six months. The reason she had been so conflicted over whether or not to meet up with the woman before you as you finally caught wind of her whereabouts.

“I see.” Hands that are clasped in front of her go to her hips, a stance you know conveys the way her mind is working to process the false information you’ve brought her. “Well, come on. Let’s get you looked at a little closer. I see that nasty scar on your arm, bone broke through I’m assuming?”

“Yeah, happened in Kansas City. Did what I could for it too, hurt like a bitch when it was healing, it nearly took me out too.”

“Must’ve been rough, dealing with it all alone.”

“Hunkered down for the winter, found a cabin in a state park somewhere in between here and there.”

It’s nerve wracking, not being able to turn your head and see the form of Joel. Hovering on the outside of your eyesight, his presence something you were so used to even in the time you had spent apart. A time you hadn’t wanted to repeat in such extreme parameters. But the situation was dire, Ellie’s well-being at stake. The threat of someone looking for her, tearing apart earth and ash for her blood if they even suspected she was alive. If Joel so much was glimpsed himself, Marlene would make you both recount your stories over and over again, to find the flaws, to find the lies she would suspect were there.

The “doctor” that looked you over was nice enough. But he lacked cognitive skills, the ability to read someone the second he came in contact with them.

Jerry Anderson.

His only credentials happened to be a bachelor’s degree in science, yet he called himself a trained surgeon. Which makes sense to an extent, he worked alongside Marlene and the Fireflies. Tended to them, took care of them medically, he had on the job training. But to say that he was their best, that he was the one leading the research team trying to concoct a cure?

That was absolutely absurd.

You knew more than him, something he was quick to gauge. Asking after your own schooling, stating you were too young to have a degree, too young to have the knowledge he had.

“Doesn’t matter if you think I’m as skilled as you. I’ve got my EMT and Paramedic certifications while in high school, used them to get the upper hand at my own university, and managed to get an associates in two years. Medical anthropology. Granted its not science proper, but it’s still in the medical field.” You crossed your arms, not willing to be talked down to by the man currently looking over the chart he had filled out during your physical, it was paired with the diagram of injuries Marlene’s soldiers had asked of you when confronted outside the building before being let inside.

“I just don’t understand why Marlene thinks I need your assistance, you said it yourself that you didn’t want to stay too long.” The man is stocky, even as he stands at his full height and leans against a small desk he’s got set up in what had once been an administration office. The medical bay is just beyond the door, the rooms shoddy but clean enough to treat and house people. They’re using the hospital as their ground zero, their home base.

“I’m helping her to fine tune her set up, that’s all. She knows I worked under FEDRA in the Boston QZ, even if it was all just to stay alive and hide my own smuggling. But they paired me with a trained ER physician, and he taught me everything he knew.”

“Still doesn’t equate to a higher degree.”

“No, but it does give me a better understanding of modern day solutions rather than dated procedures we’re unable to conduct anymore. Sparse or surging power, outages, lack of equipment, lack of relevant medication, different ways of sterilizing tools and bandages. All of that is adaptive, regardless of proper education on the matter.”

“She wants you to go over my notes, the ones I had for the girl.” He levels you with a harsh look, eyes narrowing as he catches your own fiery ones. “But it doesn’t matter if she’s not alive, right?”

“Might not, in terms of immediate experimentation. But perhaps she wants a second opinion on the logistics of what she’s trying to do.”

“Cordyceps infects the brain, takes over. We both know that. That’s why the girl would’ve been on the table as soon as she was delivered. To ensure it could be looked at and studied. The way her brain connected with the infection instead of succumbing to it.”

“Seems like a waste of a human life if you got your way. How would you like it if someone wanted to cut your kid open and take their brain on the off chance it could tell you something more than just testing their blood and live responses? It’d feel pretty shitty, wouldn’t it?”

“How do you know I have a kid?” The man’s eyes narrow at you, color rising from the collar of his shirt to show the affect you were having on him. Calm and collected he was not, but you knew that the second he had refused to shake your hand when first meeting, even with Marlene standing beside him.

“I didn’t, not until you confirmed it. But you don’t act like it. Bringing her into the mess of the Fireflies, of having her housed her in the middle of Infected city, protected and patrolled even as it is.”

“And what do you know about being a good parent? Marlene says you’ve been alone for as long as she’s known you. No family, no friends, just parasocial relationships that depend completely on your skill set and what you smuggled into the zone for trade.”

“Mr. Anderson, there’s no need to insult me. I’m simply having a conversation with you, truly. I’m not the one tearing apart your every word, you’re the own who seems pretty self-righteous. But you have to admit, studying someone who is immune, that would surely give you more data than just immediately cutting out the part of them that houses the cordyceps?” You try to appease him, to appeal to the way he seems to want to be talked up and not talked with, switching from outright denying his plan of action to merely suggesting he could learn more than anyone else knows about the infection instead.

“I suppose it would, but simply running tests and gathering data wouldn’t make the cure. That could only be made from the fluids housed in the brain, the part of the body that is working in tandem with the infection.” He heaves a deep sigh, rubbing at his eyes as he thinks over your words. “Marlene wants a cure, the sooner the better. And then some semblance of normalcy can begin to be restored.”

“Do you really think Marlene has the resources and authority to distribute a cure on a scale large enough to make a difference? That she’s not going to use it as leverage in her challenge to whatever is left of FEDRA and their governing forces?”

“Are you questioning her intentions?” He freezes, eyes jumping to the window pane in the cracked open door. That alone tells you he’s thought the same before, but perhaps not dared to voice it lest it get to the wrong person. That he doesn’t want to be associated with the thought.

“I’m questioning the effectiveness of a farfetched cure for something that left humanity to its own devices for far too long. Do you realize that it won’t be able to undo the sheer lawlessness nature that’s taken over the world? Not to mention the adaptability and incredible evolutionary advantage the mycelium has over us? It’s older than most life itself and you think we have the ability to combat it on such a large scale so long after it’s ruined everything we’ve created as a society?”

The man is quiet, taking your words and mulling them over. You can see the shift in his shoulders, tension easing and then building taut again. He gestures to the notebooks and textbooks scattered over the surface of his desk, and you see a small photo peeking out from beneath a chart.

“I have to try, for my daughter. She deserves a better world than this.”

“To save your own daughter, you’d willingly kill another’s?”

“It’s a means to an end, one loss for the survival of many.”

“And that’s exactly what I’m talking about- the life of one that needn’t die doesn’t justify the small possibility of creating a cure.” You’re shuffling through the faded and water spotted pages, trying to see the man who in the words transcribed there and compare them to the one standing across from you and preaching his knowledge as something that could change the world. But he was a man of science once upon a time, that shows in his words that you skim over. But when you look back up at him, he’s not the one you see before you.

You see a man willing to do whatever it takes to save his family and while you understand that, have done just so to ensure the safety of your own people- it’s a vastly different scenario that you don’t want any part of.

“I just don’t want you or your daughter to end up dying for a future that’s impossible.” And with that you push away from his desk and walk past him. You can only hope that your words made him see things a little differently. Otherwise, it would be his demise, it would be his daughter’s. Both susceptible to the manipulation of Marlene and the Fireflies, at the whim of those who couldn’t be trusted. “You’re a man of science, see the truth to what can’t be and what is.”

You eat in the cafeteria with everyone else, the twenty or so people that are left of the faction. Military freeze-dried food is all they have left, but it’s crates and crates piled up in the kitchen. The power working off a generator they’ve rigged up. But there’s no tour for you, you don’t pass the security check to warrant one.

You can feel eyes on you as you insist on making your own pack, on boiling your own water and supervising each step of the food you’re about to consume. You aren’t taking any chances with them, not ever again. You had been trusting once, had fallen into the trap of hospitality and false narratives before. But not this time and not ever again. Maria had seen in it you, when you refused to eat the food placed in front of you in the mess hall back in Jackson.

They leave you be, for the most part. Attention half on them surrounding you in their own little pairs and trios, half of Jerry’s notebook open in front of you. The textbook he references multiple times beside it. A low hum of conversation permeates the air, and you know you’re presence is a part of it.

But you focus now, on the words in front of you. The notes a man who has given his life and skills to Marlene deems important enough to write down.

And it’s all utter nonsense.

Regardless, Marlene would never stop looking for Ellie. For her replacement.

You’re unsure exactly how Ellie gained her immunity, but you know it can’t be replicated without grand risks of not only being Infected yourself but your morality.

It’s dark by the time you seek her out, her room one of the many used as personal quarters in an upper floor. Her room is the only one occupied at the end of a hallway. Armed men at the front of it and surely one at the bottom of the stairwell for the floor just beyond the doors that lead to it.

“What questions do you have?”

She knew you were approaching, and her stance tells you as much.

She’s not allowing you into the room, but greeted you at the doorway. Left open just a smidge.

“The immunity. Depending on how it’s gained, would affect the research.” You try not to cross your arms but you regard the notes you’ve taken in your own small, palm sized journal. “If it’s gained as a child, it would explain the symbiosis between the brain and the mycelium. It could be entirely dumb luck, the timing of the bite, the type of blood someone has, their immune system, bloodlines, potential exposure to the mycelium in a different setting and an almost…”

“The girl, she was born with the immunity.” Seeing that you need some sort of answer or confirmation, the reasoning being Ellie’s immunity only one you had theorized about. Staying up many nights when you first met her and you spied the scarring along her forearm. She hadn’t needed to tell you she was immune, you had dealt with enough bites in the QZ infirmary to know. That she was alive, that she was her own person and seemingly healthy- it may not mean a cure is possible but it meant that adaptation was possible. Even on such a small scale as to affect one, very important person.

“There’s no way. If the mother had been bitten, the infection would’ve changed the baby too.”

The thought of being clawed open from the inside out terrifies you, it steals the next question from your mind as you picture a woman who looks faintly like Ellie holding tight to a swollen belly and tending to an angry wound rung in teeth marks.

“Amnio fluid is a miracle worker, but it’s not able to cure something like this.”

“Tell that to my dead friend. To the baby I had to protect.”

“Marlene…”

Suddenly shifting, her arms uncross and land on her hips. If you weren’t on immediate alert for the change in her demeanor, you would laugh at the comparison of Joel doing the same stance so often.

“Had some men come back from a trip to the old sight, they had left weeks ago.” Marlene keeps her voice even, but you already know. The web of lies you concocted; they’ve been spun around the end of a broom. The bristles of it catching your silk and turning it into an ugly failure.

“Seems that a settlement had quite the run in with a man matching Joel’s description and a young girl he was traveling with.” The muscles in her arm give her away and you take a few steps back only to feel a sting in the soft part of your shoulder. Looking down, all you see is the butt end of a dart sticking through your shirt. “They also said there was a woman with red hair. Scared the hell out of them as she tore the place apart.”

The lines of the tile and the marking along the walls drip, whatever was in the dart steals your center of gravity and you’re suddenly landing harshly on your knees. The metallic snap of handcuffs around your wrists has you struggling to hold your head up and meet Marlene’s glare.

“You fucking lied to me.”

“Want to fess up and tell me where they’re hiding? I’ll send every person I have at my disposal, Ellie is key to the cure. You have no fucking idea what you’re messing with.” Marlene is standing in front of you, your body sore and muscles twitching as the contents of the dart wear off. The door slams behind her, lock engaging.

“I took out a fucking bear and you think you’re gonna be the thing that traps me? You have no idea what it’s taken to get this far! You think you had a rough go of it, with your crew protecting you and your fucking vehicles? Your military meals and your steady supply of fresh water? You may have been strong once. Hell, you may have been the one to bring hope to people but right now you’re nothing more than a body in my way.” Struggling to stand, as if you’re a newborn foal, Marlen doesn’t bother to stop you or force you back down. She’s reading the weakness you’re displaying and it’s going to be her downfall.

The cuffs are tight, wrists sore and red even with how you had tried to avoid the irritation. But hours had gone by, it was surely well into the night if not the next day now. You wondered if Joel had grown worried, if he had left the post even with your plea to stay put, the last words you spoke with him.

“You’d rather risk your life out there than lend us a hand here? You’re more delusional than I thought, you have nothing to go back to. The QZ is a fucking mess, even worse than when we left. It’s only a matter of time before it falls like so many others before it. You have nothing, your life will have no meaning if you have to fight to survive everyday in endless travel.” Her anger flares, breaking her cool demeanor and showing you a glimpse of the woman she really is.

“I have my integrity.” You spit at her, crouching down to contort yourself easily. Not at all the shaking mess of limbs you had just been moments ago. Shoulders protesting the movement, you’re able to step over the links of the cuffs. With them now in front, you stalk toward her with intent. “I refuse to be a pawn in your ill-conceived endeavor. I refuse to be a part of your plan to kill innocent people on the off chance that your ignorant doctor can actually make something with deadly fluids and decaying brain matter.”

She doesn’t seem to realize that you aren’t going to hurt her, that your intention isn’t to get your hands on her. You want to rattle her, to scare her. To make her see that the way she’s going about keeping you here, forcing you to work with her, for her is never going to work. Her arms come up, one to ward you off from coming any closer while the other goes to the handle of her gun.

But you don’t want the gun and you don’t want her. You shove at her with your shoulder, feet quick after those first few slow steps across the room. The keys skid across the floor when she lands, the clasp keeping them secured to her beltloop breaking from the force. Swiping the belt of grenades you had found in the room earlier, you scoop them up and are out the door just as two shots break the glass panel. Cursing, you pull the door open and slam it shut behind you, the lock automatically engaging.

You wave at her through the crackled glass before running off down the hall before her men can close in.

She needed you, your knowledge, your skill set, your determination. She needed you to find Ellie, the girl she claims to have raised in honor of her friend, only to turn back on that promise and take her life. But  you had other people who wanted you. And after being alone for so long, that’s all that mattered. They are the only ones that mattered and you’d be damned if someone tried to keep you from returning to them. You would do anything to protect them, even take out an entire faction of self-righteous mercenaries.

Joel and Ellie both jump when the explosion echoes out, the plume of smoke that billows up into the morning sky as the smell of ash permeates the air. Even as far away as they are, deep suburbs of that surround the city, almost on the cusp of total wilderness they’re witness to it all. One of the tall buildings crashes loudly, the bottom floors caving in and it collapses in on itself. They can only assume it was the hospital that was marked on the map Joel had found but given over to you for your solo excursion into the depts of the city.

Brow furrowing, Joel watched as a wave of birds take to the air and flee, his attention focused on the erratic way they scatter in an attempt to escape the dark smoke pluming up endlessly. Movement out of the corner of his eye has him aiming the shotgun in his arms towards the source, but it’s too late. There’s a man and a young girl facing him, a gun aimed at him as Ellie scrambles to hide behind his frame.

They’re a mirror image of each other. A man shielding a young girl behind them with a gun cocked and ready to fire. But Joel can see the panic and hesitation in the man’s eyes, in his stance. He knows with just a glance that the man has been protected, has had people doing the shooting for him, keeping him safe, keeping him alive.

Ellie’s hand reached for the back of his jacket, gripping tight but he doesn’t dare take his eyes off the pair in front of him. But the man does, his glance behind him, landing on Ellie before he lowers his gun.

The girl behind him clings to him much the same way as Ellie does to Joel, even as the man holds his arms up gun above his head. It’s quiet in the street as he begins to slowly step back, making space between them. He sees Joel tense, the metal of the gun creaking in his grip as he keeps it aimed at the moving man.

They don’t exchange any words as they pivot, always facing each other even as the distance grows longer. Once they’re at the opposite end of the street, the man turns around an overgrown hedge that’s swallowed a picket fence lining the corner house and then they’re gone.

Neither of them knows what to say, the explosion and the pair of them too unique a set of events in your absence. Joel feels his stomach lurch at the thought of you being either trapped by Marlene or being in the vicinity of the explosion. His mind plays memories of each of your injuries:

The fall that you had taken in your haste to get them to safety after the explosion that started this whole journey, the way your head had bounced on the broken asphalt in a way that throbbed atop his head now. Forehead lighting up where his own injury scars the skin.

The way your voice echoed as a guttural, animalistic scream tore through your chest. Up in that house and too far away to do anything to help, the sight of you holding your arm tight to your chest, white bone peeking out from the fabric of your shirt and the bloody mess of your exposed skin.

The roars of an angry bear as it barrels towards him, Ellie tripping and you shoving her into his arms. The sight of you standing up to the great creature despite fighting off an infection.

The crack of ice that plunged you deep into freezing water, a man tangled with you as he tried to end your life. Joel frantically fighting off the last of their group and jumping in after you. The way it took forever to get you to wake up, your lips ice cold and your body shivering fiercely.

The way your voice was hoarse as you shouted out threats an swinging your machete at anything that came within five feet of you. Blood and spittle flying off of you with every move to stain the snow around you. The crazed and unhinged look in your eye when you finally honed in on him, his own state not the best.

No.

He dares to clench his eyes shut for a second and takes a deep breath, centering himself and forcing the thoughts back.

And then his memory plays each time your eyes found his after everything calmed down, how you would reach for him with such small, strong, capable hands. Time and time again, even after he failed time and time again to keep you safe.

That explosion was because of you, not something you would fall victim to. He believed that with everything in his soul.

He was still watching the far end of the street when the distant sound of tires squealing as they pivot meets his ears. The sound so rare now paired with the rev of an engine. And then he sees it, turning toward the other end of the street. A dark SUV, headlights off and windows down, with you in the driver’s seat.

The vehicle stops a few feet away, closer to the other curb lining the street. Despite the blood that stains your exposed arms and the dirt marring your face, your smile makes his heart skip a beat. You look beautiful and his chest swells with warmth where it had just been anxiety, your presence melting it away.

“Need a ride?”

previous chapter || next chapter

taglist: @furiousmushroom @sawymredfox @ayamenimthiriel @bookloverkat

@rosaaeles @littlemisspascal @oscarissac2099 @ghostwritesthings

@76bookworm76 @elli3williams @sarap-77 @christinamadsen @vivian-pascal

@dugiioh @narcissa-anastasia @jessthebaker @missladym1981 @snugglingbucky

dividers and banners provided by the lovely @/saradika-graphics and @/cafekitsune

[dirty-bosmer]

Thank you to anyone who has ever read my stories. When I first started posting, I was posting into the void expecting nothing in return but the echo of my frantic keyboard clacks. Whether you made it all the way through or clicked once before deciding it wasn't your cup of tea, the fact that you took time out of your day to read my writing in any capacity fills me with so much joy and gratitude 💕💕 Idk what I did to deserve such kindness, but I love you all!!!