#fanfiction for a favor
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meimeiherokitten · 5 months ago
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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.
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inkskinned · 1 year ago
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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.
#every time someones like ''AI will replace u" im like. u will have to fucking KILL ME#there is no replacement here bc i am not filling a position. i am just writing#and the writing is what i need to be doing#writeblr#this probably doesn't make sense bc its sooo frustrating i rarely speak it the way i want to#edited for the typo wrote it and then was late to a meeting lol#i love u people who mention my typos genuinely bc i don't always catch them!!!! :) it is doing me a genuine favor!!!#my friend says i should tell you ''thank you beta editors'' but i don't know what that means#i made her promise it isn't a wolf fanfiction thing. so if it IS a wolf thing she is DEAD to me (just kidding i love her)#hey PS PS PS ??? if ur reading this thinking what it's saying is ''i am financially capable of losing this'' ur reading it wrong#i write for free. i always have. i have worked 5-7 jobs at once to make ends meet.#i did not grow up with access or money. i did not grow up with connections or like some kind of excuse#i grew up and worked my fucking ASS OFF. and i STILL!!! wrote!!! on the side!!! because i didn't know how not to!!!#i do not write for money!!!! i write because i fuckken NEED TO#i could be in the fucking desert i could be in the fuckken tundra i could be in total darkness#and i would still be writing pretentious angsty poetry about it#im not in any way saying it's a good thing. i'm not in any way implying that they're NOT tryna kill us#i'm saying. you could take away our jobs and we could go hungry and we could suffer#and from that suffering (if i know us) we'd still fuckin make art.#i would LOVE to be able to make money doing this! i never have been able to. but i don't NEED to. i will find a way to make my life work#even if it means being miserable#but i will not give up this thing. for the whole world.
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jarofstyles · 2 months ago
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The Favor 10
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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
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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.
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myfavoritesstuff · 8 months ago
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Visual Novels & Webtoons
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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☆
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sparklingcid3r · 3 months ago
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No thoughts, just Darry “I’m not a violent dog, I don’t know why I bite” Curtis
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taytrashmouth · 1 year ago
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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 😊
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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.”
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chessb0r3d · 11 months ago
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i cracked the code.
#believing dirk is the worst guy because its what dirk thinks of himself#ignoring daves bisexuality and think hes a gay man in denial even when he explained hes bisexual#believing john 'im not a homosexual' egbert is explicitly straight while he makes out with his mcconahey and cameron posters more#than he kissed women(literally only once)#believing that rose is an edgy psyhcotic little bitch when she was neglected. she speaks elegantly to cover that shes silly and a total ner#and how did people forget that rose also writes gay wizard fanfiction. reads Wikipedia. and her beautiful artstyle as a result of neglect#(and by neglect meaning having SO MUCH TIME to draw)#jake wasnt into dirk. he also told di that he didnt like how brobot getting touchy with him during strifes#but as part of the repression 4(prospit kids). he refused on changing the bot settings#what jane said about roxy being better when she was drunk. it was fucking sarcasm. its the least insane shit you could say to a best friend#all the kids have issues and of course people get mad over a girl being sarcastic.#when KARKAT said THE SAME THING to rose when she was drunk on the meteor nobody bats an eye#trolls are just grey humans that are bugs. he doesnt get an excuse for being an alien. humans were made from KARKATS BLOOD#jade isnt all silly girl and is so FULL OF HATE towards the trolls. she called karkat a fuckass (VERY FUNNY) to do her a favor#“jade would rather have punched karkat in the fact then had a pleasent conversation with him.”#“she viewed the trolls as rude mean and cruel. and even thought that nepeta was just making fun of her.#despite it being that nepeta just wanted to roleplay and have fun."#dred.loki#I HAVE YET TO ADD MORE. THESE ARE JUST NOTES#homestuck#chss
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justaz · 5 months ago
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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.
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minniiaa · 6 months ago
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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.
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holy-puckslibrary · 9 months ago
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━ 𝐚𝐥𝐥-𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐫𝐨𝐝𝐞𝐨 𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬.
main masterlist
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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
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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
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“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. 
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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.
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mkpersephone · 11 days ago
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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.
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dirty-bosmer · 10 days ago
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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!!!
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myfavoritesstuff · 7 months ago
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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
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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.”
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babsharrison · 1 month ago
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Before Sunrise - Scott Favor AU
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Pairing | Scott Favor x Fem! Reader
Summary | While traveling to Vienna, you find yourself drawn to a stranger on the train. A brief conversation turns into an unexpected proposal for adventure, leaving you with a choice that could change everything.
Word Count | 1.6k
A/N | Got inspired and decided to write a fic with Scott Favor in an AU based on Before Sunrise. In this one, he’s just a rich boy with rich problems, living his best life (he's still cute 😈). Might have more parts because I loved writing this.
The train continued its smooth journey toward Vienna, with the sun casting long shadows through the windows. Sitting in your seat, you were immersed in a book, letting the words transport you somewhere far away from the movement of the carriage and the noise around you. Your book was an escape, but today, something pulled you out of those pages. Every now and then, you would glance up, sensing a curiosity lingering in the air. And then, your eyes landed on him.
He was a few rows away, but it was impossible not to notice him. His dark, straight hair fell slightly over his eyes, which sparkled with a mix of curiosity and mystery. The black leather jacket, pristine and clearly expensive, paired with faded jeans, created an interesting image—a deliberate attempt to look casual, but with something far more refined underneath. He seemed as comfortable as he was out of place on that train, like someone who didn’t belong to any specific destination.
For a moment, your eyes met. You returned to your book, pretending to be engrossed, but you felt your heart skip a beat. He looked away, but not out of shyness—there was something about him, a confidence that seemed effortless, a charm that was hard to ignore. You wondered what he was doing there and why it suddenly felt like he might be about to walk in your direction.
When you looked again, he was already on his feet, casually strolling down the aisle, his steps light and full of a certain charisma. He stopped beside you, his brown eyes locked on you with a mischievous glint. He didn’t seem intimidated by your presence; rather, he seemed to find it amusing.
“Hi,” he said, with a smile that seemed to carry a secret you hadn’t yet discovered. “Are you heading to Vienna too?”
You nodded, slowly closing your book, curious about him and surprised by his directness, but not uncomfortable. There was something about him that made conversation easy.
“Yes,” you replied with a slight smile, trying to seem casual. “And you?”
“Oh, Vienna, Paris, Tokyo… who knows,” he laughed, a carefree laugh, sitting beside you as if it was the most natural thing in the world. “I’m on a little adventure.”
He was playful with his words, but his eyes hinted at a depth beyond the façade of the carefree boy. He had that kind of charm that made you want to know more, without him even trying. There was an extroverted energy about him, something irresistibly captivating, like he was always in the spotlight, even when he didn’t want to be.
“An adventure? That sounds interesting,” you responded, now more at ease, the book forgotten beside you. “And what brought you on this adventure, exactly?”
He shrugged, pretending to think seriously for a second. “Well, either I stay home and let my family dress me up in suits and ties to handle business… or I hop on a train to anywhere and see where I end up.” He shot you a playful look. “I guess you can figure out which one I picked.”
You laughed with him. There was something liberating about the way he spoke, like he was completely carefree, but at the same time, you could sense a hidden weight behind his words.
“Family business?” you asked, leaning slightly toward him. “Sounds like it should be a good thing.”
“Oh, definitely,” he replied with an exaggerated smile. “Money, power, endless meetings… who wouldn’t want that? But you know, sometimes, when people give you everything, they also expect everything from you.” He paused, his eyes now softer. “I guess, deep down, I just wanted a little freedom before I commit to something I’m not even sure I want.”
The train swayed gently, and the silence between you two felt comfortable, filled with a growing connection. Scott looked out the window for a second before turning back to you, his expression light again.
“But enough about me,” he said, leaning in slightly, his eyes shining with genuine curiosity. “What about you? You seem like the type who has a plan, with that book and all.” He gestured toward the book beside you, his lips curving into a charming smile.
You shrugged, a little surprised by the quick change in topic but finding it amusing how he was so openly interested.
“I like reading… and maybe I have plans, but nothing as bold as dropping everything and hopping on a train to nowhere.” You smiled, feeling more comfortable with him than you expected.
“Ah, so you’re the mysterious type,” he replied, a playful glint in his eyes. “Careful, I might end up convincing you to live a little adventure before we reach Vienna.”
There was something captivating about the way he spoke, a lightness and natural charm that made you want to laugh along, even in the simplest conversations. He seemed to play with his words as if he knew exactly what to say to keep the mood light, yet at the same time, there was a sense that, at any moment, he could surprise you with unexpected depth.
The train continued its steady course, the scenery slowly changing as the sunlight dipped behind the large clouds. Inside, the conversation between you and Scott flowed, light and easy but sprinkled with occasional moments of depth. It was almost impossible to tell how much time had passed—his words had a way of holding your attention, as if each second beside him was part of a larger, more intriguing story.
“So,” he began after a pause, his eyes fixed on the horizon through the window. “Have you been to Vienna before?”
“No, never,” you replied, turning your gaze outside, feeling a growing curiosity about what the city might offer. “And you?”
Scott flashed an enigmatic smile, as if his thoughts were already far beyond Vienna. “I’ve been a few times… But you know,” he paused dramatically, leaning slightly closer, “the real adventure never happens in places you’ve already been.”
You raised an eyebrow, intrigue taking hold. “And where exactly do you think it happens?”
“Adventure,” he repeated the word with a sparkle in his eyes, as if proposing something out of the ordinary. “What do you think about getting off the train at the next stop? Not in Vienna, but… wherever it stops.”
Your heart skipped a beat. The idea was insane—and that’s exactly what made it irresistible. “Getting off the train? Just like that?”
“Exactly.” Scott laughed, that carefree laugh that was already beginning to win you over. “Aren’t you even a little curious? Sometimes the best stories come from decisions we didn’t plan. Leave Vienna for another day. Let’s see what the world has to offer outside this train.”
You hesitated, considering the proposal as the train continued through the ever-changing landscape. Scott seemed so confident, so at ease with the idea of following the unexpected. He looked at you with that gaze that suggested more than he was saying, as if simply stepping off the train was the key to something extraordinary.
“Are you serious?” you asked, laughing nervously.
“Completely,” he replied with a half-smile, but his eyes were sincere, almost challenging. “It’s just one night. One stop. If it’s terrible, we can hop back on tomorrow and head to Vienna like nothing happened. But… what if it’s amazing?”
Your heart raced with the thought. His words echoed in your mind, sparking a jolt of adrenaline. “I don’t know, Scott… This is way too spontaneous. Even for me.”
“Okay, you don’t have to decide now.” He stood up in one smooth, confident motion, as if the decision was already made for him. “I’m getting off at the next stop.” His eyes met yours one last time before he began to walk toward the carriage door. “If you decide to come, it’ll be more fun than you think.”
For a moment, you stayed where you were, your heart pounding, your mind racing. Scott was really doing this. The train began to slow, signaling that the stop was near. He moved toward the door, throwing one last glance your way, full of expectation.
“This is your last chance!” he teased, waving with a mischievous smile.
The train doors opened, and he stepped off. You watched him standing on the empty platform, hands in his pockets, a carefree smile on his lips. Hesitation hit you hard. What were you doing? Scott was a stranger—an unexpected adventure. Everything about this screamed “danger,” but at the same time, there was something undeniably captivating about the unknown.
The conductor’s voice echoed through the carriage, announcing the train’s imminent departure. Your heart jumped, and before you could convince yourself otherwise, you grabbed your backpack and stood up. Without looking back, you walked to the door, feeling your stomach flutter with every step. You took one last deep breath before stepping off the train.
Scott noticed you immediately. His eyes lit up with a mix of surprise and excitement, and he broke into a wide smile. “I knew it!” He laughed, clearly delighted. “I knew you were the adventurous type.”
“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” you replied, feeling the nervousness mixed with the exhilaration of something completely new and unexpected.
“Welcome to the adventure,” he said, as he began walking beside you along the quiet platform. “I promise this will be a story you won’t forget.”
And as the two of you left the small station toward the unknown, something inside you shifted. The hesitation was still there, but now it walked hand in hand with the sense that this night would be unforgettable—something you’d carry with you forever.
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taytrashmouth · 1 year ago
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Heyy I was wondering if u could do prompt 22 with peeta I’ve been having peeta brainrot for so long 😭
tysmm!!
This is so real!!!!! Peeta supremacy. I really hope you love it.
Prompt 22: “You’re staring!”
Requests are open so please send them in!!!!!!!! Prompts under my profile.
(Set before the games)
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:readmore:
It was a cold day in district 12, the snow had started to fall. But it was a good day, because you had somehow giggled your way into getting a date with Peeta Mellark.
You pulled your small brown bag, that’s been patched up so many times you couldn’t tell which fabric was the original. And began to walk to the bakery.
You pulled your dark blue beanie over your ears as you approached the door. You contemplated for a minute before knocking.
Peetas family were gathering supplies from the local market, they wouldn’t be back for the next few hours.
He opened the door and smiled the minute he saw you. You smiled back.
“Hey.” He ushered you inside, looking at the snow that dusted your shoulders.
“You must be freezing.” He took your coat and put it over the chair by the entrance.
“Only slightly.” You joked.
“You’ve got- umm snow.” Peeta pointed to your eyelashes. You giggled “oh, would you?”
You closed your eyes and he gently dusted the snowflakes off of your long eyelashes.
His hand lingered on your cheek as you opened your eyes.
“Thanks.” You spoke just above a whisper.
“I’m making bread.” He let out as he pulled his hand away. You smiled at his awkwardness.
“I’m glad! Your bread is like what I look forward to the whole week.” You told him as you walked to the kitchen.
He smiled shyly.
“I just need to get this in the oven and then we can do whatever you want.” He spoke, walking over to a metal bowl where the dough had been rising.
You sat on the kitchen counter and watched him knead the bread. You were mesmerised by the muscle in his arms, and the way he used his whole body to knead the dough.
He was talking about something but if you were honest you didn’t know what.
“Y/n-“ he called and you broke out of your trance. “You’re staring…” he smiled cockily.
You turned crimson looking at your hands and swinging your legs. “Sorry-“
“Don’t be…” he let out as he placed the bread into the oven.
“Come on.” He spoke and helped you down from the counter by your hips.
You blushed more.
He led you to the living room where a fire was going, it was small like all the houses in 12. But it was nice. Cozy.
You took your beanie off and attempted to smooth out your hair. Messy curls bouncing everywhere.
There was a severe lack of chairs in the living room. All single chairs in every corner of the room and a huge table in the middle. Furniture wasn’t one of the luxuries the Capitol provided.
You noticed some daisies lying on the table. Peeta picked them up. “I- I uh picked these for you. They grow down by the river.”
You smiled. “They’re beautiful.” You smelt them.
“Like you.” You both blushed then.
He took a daisy out of the bouquet and placed it behind your ear.
After a while of talking Peeta spoke “what do you wanna do? Unfortunately when it’s snowing there’s not much to do is there?”
“We could read.” You suggested fishing a book from your bag.
“Where did you get that?” Peeta examined it in awe.
“My dad, he knows a guy in 7 that owned a library before the rebellion. He’s really old. But every month my dad travels to get wood from 7 for our district and he gives him a book for me to read.” You explained.
“That’s amazing.”
“Yeah, when I was little he said that if the Capitol ever crumbles the library’s mine.” You smiled at the memory.
“You’ll have to take me with you.”
“Always.” You looked at every feature on his face. “You can lend some of them anytime you want. I have a feeling we’re gonna have to wait a long time for the whole library.” You joked and Peeta laughed
I would love to, but I’m not that great at reading.” He hesitated to speak. You could tell he was embarrassed.
“That’s okay, my mom taught me. Honestly I don’t blame you, schools here just care about coal and the rebellion.”
“Yeah…I’m sorry by the way.” He was talking about your mom. She died a few years back.
“It’s okay.” You smiled sadly.
“I can read to you if you want.” You offered.
He nodded. Hiding his excitement.
He sat on one of the chairs, and you sat on the floor next to him.
“Hey don’t sit on the floor.” Peeta sat up.
“No no! I’m fine, you won’t hear from over there, really.” You insisted.
“Sit with me.” Peeta suggested.
Blush crept into his face the second he said it.
“You don’t have t-“
“I want to.” You stood up.
He sat back onto the seat squeezing as far right as he could. You tried to squeeze next to him but you were half on top of him. You were both tomato’s.
He carefully placed his hand on your lower back and under your thigh. You took a sharp breath in as he moved you to sit on his lap, legs over the armrest.
“Is this okay?” He asked.
“Perfect.”
You began to read and he held onto every word. He was in deep and he knew it. He watched your lips move and the way you smiled when something good happened. And giggled when something romantic happened.
“Peeta-“ he broke from his trance when he realised you weren’t reading anymore.
“You’re staring.” You smirked.
Now he was the blushing mess. “It’s hard not to.” He moved some hair behind your ear.
You squealed and hurried your head in his chest at how perfect he was. He chuckled and stroked your hair as you continued to read, head on his chest.
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penvisions · 8 months ago
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dev's masterlist {joel miller}
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I've somehow expanded my writing enough to warrant a whole separate masterlist for the one and only Joel Miller! He's so diverse and there are so many facets to his character, so it's been fun to explore writing for him ♡ Keep in mind my blog and online spaces are strictly 18+ Each fic has its own masterlist post with links to chapters, warnings, and supplemental content! Happy reading! ♡
back to -> navigation || main masterlist
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*Series / Multichapter Fics:
Title: return the favor Pairing: Post Outbreak! Joel Miller x Smuggler! Reader Status: work in progress Summary: With a past as rich as anyone in the times after the Outbreak, you find your medical and survival skills to be a valuable asset.You were dropping off some medical supplies that FEDRA was willing to pay big for when you got tangled up in a mission that involves a teenager with a mouth almost as smart as yours and gruff older man whose graying curls were his only redeeming quality. But the longer you traveled with them and the more that happened out in the open land of what once was, the more you find yourself connecting with them and wanting to protect them both at any cost.
ao3 link || series masterlist
Title: garnish Pairing: Chef! Joel Miller x Bartender! Reader (a restaurant au) Staus: complete Summary: Summer is a time of fun and carefree days for those who are fortunate enough to not work within the food industry. You however have found yourself back in that world and so long were the days you could spend doing nothing. Along with the shift back to a world you once left behind is the figure of Joel Miller, who is as magnetizing as he is irritating that is now a part of your daily life.
ao3 link || series masterlist
Title: zest Pairing: Chef! Joel Miller x Professor! Reader (formally known as Bartender! Reader) Status: work in progress Summary: With the passage of time, Joel Miller had shifted from ‘chef’ to something more. Your once hidden relationship a secret now out in the open. After a break in which you finished your degree and managed to land your dream job of teaching at the collegiate level, Joel had thrown himself into his work at the restaurant where you met. Back together and in far better mental places in your life, you both are caught off guard by the sudden news of being prospective parents. But things are always gonna get hectic because, of course, how else would things go with the two of you involved? It’d been that way for nearly two years after all.
ao3 link || series masterlist
Title: by the grit of sandpaper Pairing: Jackson! Joel Miller x F! Reader (Artisan! Joel Miller x F! Reader Status: complete Summary: Joel Miller is a gruff as they come, the world having changed him for the worst. But settling in Jackson with his brother changed him for the better. He's known around town as someone to help, whether it be with home repairs, construction, and hand carved trinkets. An offhand comment from you inspires him to branch out and create helpful kitchen wares. And it seems everyone has been gifted one from him, except for you. It makes you rethink the casual friendship you had developed with the man that had just begun to expand beyond patrols.
ao3 link || series masterlist
Title: gone to the dogs Pairing: Boston QZ! Joel Miller x F! Reader Status: work in progress Summary: What happens when the world ends in such a violent way that it robs you of your very humanity? Do you submit or raise your hackles and fight back? The answer is obvious to Joel Miller, known for being someone to not to cross even in the most dangerous corners of the Boston QZ. The answer is obvious to you, too, who transformed in his likeness.
ao3 link || series masterlist
*One Shots / Drabbles:
Title: for the record Pairing: Jackson! Joel Miller x Patrol Partner! Reader Summary: The longer, more dangerous patrol routes around Jackson are designated to you and one Joel Miller. You both have an understanding with each other, talking wasn’t the biggest concern for either of you, but being confident in each other was. He wasn’t a bad friend in your scavenged life, but then again you were beginning to think you didn’t want to be just his friend…and that’s got you more than a little sexually frustrated.
ao3 link || direct link
Title: unexpected bloom Pairing: Pre-Outbreak! Joel Miller x Reader Summary: A single flower and a chance encounter brings color to your life.
ao3 link || direct link
Title: there's a place and time Pairing: Younger! Joel Miller x Neighbor! Reader Summary: Moving back to your parents house wasn't part of the plan, neither was being a thorn in your neighbor's side. but you roll with the punches, and hey, he's kinda cute when he gets huffy.
ao3 link || direct link
{wristwatch}
{early morning filth}
{joel's morning wood}
*Construction Corner:
Title: black hole sun Pairing: Pre-Outbreak! Joel Miller x Waitress! Reader ; Jackson! Joel Miller x Survivor! Reader Status: under construction : to be posted soon! Summary: You carry memories of Joel Miller in your heart in the wake of the end of the world, someone who had once been a bright spot in the dull monotony of life. When you unexpectedly cross paths with him again, he’s no longer the young man you used to share moments with but an unforgiving dark spot that had been corrupted by the new world order. He’s gone in the blink of an eye once again, showing up months later to settle in Jackson as he’s turned into some convoluted mixture of each. Maybe time and circumstance will allow for you finally tell each other how you feel?
ao3 link || series masterlist
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