#fanfiction request

[xxxdreamscapexxx]

Only for you

Emo!Wanda Maximoff x FemReader

Word count: 4.2k

Summary: Just the above, but I also added some reader backstory

Warning: Reader backstory including: physical pain, arguing, bullying, mental instability, manipulation, R being held against her will Present time storyline: mutual pining, Unestablished lesbian relationship, slight teasing by the team, jealousy, posessiveness, love confessions, fluff, Happy!Ending <3

Joining the Avengers was a challenge. It wasn’t the constant work outs and strict diet to keep you healthy and strong, it wasn’t even the danger or the threats to your life, even the annoying attempts of the media to follow you and snap pictures of you didn’t bother you that much. They all got buried by the government before they saw the light of day anyway. It was the people. Not that you weren’t grateful to them. They had saved your life after all. Gave you a purpose in life. But… The Avengers were a tough group to get to know and even tougher to live with sometimes. Of course, some preferred having their own homes, like Clint and his family, or the notorious Captain Marvel, that didn’t even live on Earth, and just as expected, those that did live in the tower had their own floors, rooms, offices, so you didn’t even meet them that much, but that just made it even harder to really connect. That’s why Steve insisted on team building activities, training together, even attending Tony’s stupid parties, all in the name of bonding. The man meant well and he really had a big heart, but he just couldn’t see that some of the Avengers had very little in common.

The thing is… You were born a witch. Not from a powerful clan, or with deeply rooted ancestry, and you probably would have stayed that way, had you not made a terrible mistake. Truly, you were just angry at the time. Barely a teenager, who thought she had all the answers. You were arguing with your mother about something, not that you could even remember what for. It was probably so stupid. But you both lost your temper, screaming at each other, until she had sent you to your room. She thought she was de-escalating the situation, giving you both time to calm down. What she didn’t know is that you had been through her collection of spell books and brought them all to your room. So when you slammed the door behind you, stupidly, unthinkingly, you grabbed the books. You weren’t sure what kind of spell you were hoping to find. Just something to make all the emotions inside you stop raging. But you found an absorption spell instead. In your head, you thought that if you just learned this spell and then performed it, you’ll search through the books much faster and then you’d able to do… What? God, you had no idea. Thinking back now, that was such a ridiculous thing to do. But you learned the spell, grabbed the candles you had in your drawer, surrounded yourself with all the books you had taken and just started the chant, hands touching the pages of the books and starting to feel their content seeping into your skin. It stung! That’s what you remember most. The feeling of that black ink seeping into your skin, as if splitting it open to make its way inside, clawing its way in your veins. It hurt so bad, but it wouldn’t stop. You had said the words, and now the spell was doing its work, emptying the pages of the books around you. You tried to pull your hands away, struggled to get it to stop, but it wouldn’t. Every painful second felt like hours. The panic inside you was rising, watching the inky blotches making their way up your arms, crawling like black maggots under your skin, up your shoulders and neck… You were so scared, heart pumping wildly in your chest as you watched it happen, begging for it to finally stop.

But with the end of the spell, you found yourself facing a greater torment. You had taken too much, too fast for your brain to fully comprehend. All the words swirled in your head like a hurricane, making it impossible to distinguish your own thoughts. You tried to calm down, tried to put those racing thoughts in order, trying to meditate, just like your mother had thought you, but it was useless. It wouldn’t stop. In the end, it was your screams that attracted your mother to your room, panicked and scared, just as you were, trying to get you to tell her what you had done, but you couldn’t even put a sentence in order. Your brain was so scrambled, growing more incoherent by the second. Maybe that’s when you passed out? You couldn’t tell. You had very little recollections from that time. The next days were a blur. You don’t remember much. Just your room. Your mother told you that you were consumed by madness. Spewing lines from spells, incoherent and jumbled together. But sometimes you would get one right. She’d had to confine you to your room and bind you with runes, so you wouldn’t start casting without even knowing it. She told you it took you two weeks, before you started to come back to yourself. It was a miracle you even managed it. Some witches never recovered from such a thing. By the time you came back to your school, there were so many rumours about you, people whispering behind your back. You were changed. Thinner, more withdrawn, trying to keep to yourself. But kids were cruel and curious. They teased you, tried to get you to admit why you were missing from school all this time, attacking you, when you tried to ignore them. You should have known it was inevitable that you snapped and did something you’d regret.

It was just before summer break, you thought you had gotten through the worst of it, that you had your emotions under control, practicing every day, just so you could keep all the magic from spilling out. Many people didn’t know, but grimoires weren’t just books full of spells. Each spell, written within the pages was also a tiny bit of magic, leaving its imprint and taking root. You hadn’t just absorbed the knowledge, but the magic too. It was more than you’d ever felt, more than you knew how to control, so you practiced relentlessly. But when pushed, it bubbled to the surface. Fucking Madeleine Dupont, daughter of the Patric Dupont – owner of the biggest, most profitable manufacturing business in town, was obnoxious, spoiled, annoying and with a mean streak wider than her daddy’s newly acquired 23 acres of land for their grand mansion. The girl loved to pick on everyone, but recently, she had set her sights on you and in that fateful day, she and her friends cornered you into an empty classroom, taking drugs out of their pockets and trying to get you to take them. When “gentle” persuasion failed, one of them grabbed you, holding you by the hair and trying to force your face onto a desk, where they had spilled some powder. You didn’t even know what it is. But they started to overpower you, and the tears spilling down your cheeks as you tried to tell them that you didn’t want this, that you needed them to stop, only added to their exhilaration.

They eventually pinned you down, laughing menacingly as they tried to get you to breathe it in and you lost control, pushing them back with your magic, a wave of energy blasting through the whole room, making desks and chairs fly to the ground, just like the girls had done. You tried to reign yourself in, to stop the emotions from taking over, but you were mumbling spells already. You remember just a blast. You remember waking up in a cell, body strapped to a small hospital bed, being pumped full of something. And the woman. She was your “handler” and on most days, the only person you saw or spoke with. She told you what happened. You’d killed those girls. Part of the building collapsed because of what you had done and the rubble crushed them. You must have protected yourself on instinct. Survived it somehow. They were giving you medication, making sure you heal properly. And then your training could begin. They were HYDRA. And they had a special interest in people like you. They made it clear that they weren’t just your supposed saviours, but also your captors. They weren’t going to just let you leave their facility. Instead, they aimed to train you. You were one of the lucky ones. You learned that after you were rescued from that HYDRA base. They never tortured you physically. Instead, they decided that they could break your mind, already weakened by what you’d done to yourself. They aimed to convert you. Half your training was spells and magic, endurance, strength… The other part… That was indoctrination. And they used everything they knew about you just to do it. When you refused to say the right things, they withheld food, when you refused to train, they withheld water… When that didn’t work, they would use threats. Your mother. They weren’t above hurting her to make you behave. They weren’t above killing her, if you didn’t do what you’re told.

You often held out hope that she was looking for you. That she’d find you and save you. But she didn’t have half as much power as you did. And you couldn’t escape them. What luck would she have? Eventually, your only hope of escape was to save yourself and after a few failed attempts, you formed a plan. You did as you were told, said what they needed to hear and you trained. You trained every waking moment, making sure your body and mind would be strong enough to take on all the magic you invited into yourself. That absorption spell? You used it more often, although, you limited the amount of information this time. It always hurt, the headaches after each use were monstrous. But it was all worth it. You were going to get yourself out of there one day. Even if you had to take down the whole base to do it. But it was the Avengers who took it down and helped you out of there. They reunited you with your mother, your family, and after some time, they also offered you a job. A calling. To help people. Those who weren’t as fortunate as you. Those in need. And you said yes. That’s how you ended up in the Avengers tower. Despite the people, it was a lonely place. Few understood what you had been though, fewer still cared for what it had done to you. But you couldn’t blame them. They all had their own lives, their own problems to deal with, their own personal pain to wallow in. Natasha understood. She knew what being a prisoner was like, what it felt like to be forced to do things just to survive. Steve empathised. His big heart and his puppy dog eyes were unbelievably charming and he won you over easily. Clint brought normalcy to everyone’s lives. But most of the others were hard to relate to. Tony meant well, but he had a big mouth and he loved putting his foot in it. Bruce was always in his lab. Vision was kind, but he was also marked by the characteristics of his origin and hard to make a connection with. Thor… Where do you even start with Thor? But there was also Wanda.

She had joined before you, her story similar to yours, yet so different, marked by loss and heartache. She was a kindred spirit and easily a friend. She was a little older than you, her eyeliner thick, her black nail polish often chipped, her hair in a tight ponytail as she walked around the compound and she always smiled when she saw you. As the months passed, the two of you were inseparable, spending every waking moment together. You were one of the two people who wasn’t scared that she’d read your mind, who trusted her good intentions and good heart completely. The other was Vision. They had a bond, an understanding that you didn’t know how to share in. But you were happy that she had him in her corner, because the other Avengers always looked at her suspiciously, or avoided her and you never knew why. Wanda was a sweetheart. Her favorite way to watch sitcoms was with her cuddled up into your side, your fingers playing with her silky hair, that she always let down, when it was just the two of you in the room. And sure, she was a little emo, but you found that adorable. Her smile would only widen, when you’d use one of your many pet names for her and she would blush, when you complimented her cooking. And you used those all the time, because, the thing is, you were in love with her. You were desperately in love with Wanda Maximoff and you were ready to do just about anything to have her smile at you or shower you with her affection. Something she did practically all the time anyway. If the woman wasn’t also fiercely protective and an extremely powerful witch, you’d say she’s a puppy. But none of the others ever agreed, when you said so. They would cower, when she stepped into the room, avoid her eyes, when they needed to speak to her, they would step out of training rooms, when she walked in. You found it baffling. And somehow the treatment extended to you as well. The closer you got to her, the more they kept their distance.

Gone were the days when they would tease you playfully, when they would give you pointers on your techniques, when they would approach you for small gatherings that didn’t involve the whole team and you never knew why. Until today. You walked in the common room, only to find most of the team already there and you greeted them, before you made your way to the adjacent kitchen, listening to their banter as you made breakfast for yourself and Wanda. It was the dynamic you were used to and you were ready to join them, holding the bowls of food in your hands, when you noticed that the noise suddenly died down, replaced by tense silence. “Wanda.” Natasha greeted with a nod. “Natasha.” The younger woman acknowledged, stepping further into the room and scanning it for something. Not that she ever told them what she needs. She looked pissed. Her aura was dark and almost menacing, her shoulders squared, like she was ready for a fight, making everyone on edge and you couldn’t figure out why. “Hi, sweetheart!” You decide to finally greet her, showing yourself from behind the wall you had been standing, while you observed all this. “Sweetheart?” Tony lifted an eyebrow, an amused smile creeping up his lips. Wanda only threw him a glare, but she accepted your hug happily, taking you into her arms and when you pulled away, she only let you turn into her hold, facing the group, while her hands stayed firmly around you. “Let’s go have breakfast in my room.” She suggested in your ear, ready to practically drag you out of there. “Why not join all of us for breakfast?” Steve raised his voice, gesturing to the big table he was already sitting at. “That’d be nice.” You nodded, before Wanda had any chance to refuse. “Come on, Wands, I already fixed you a bowl.” You told her. “Yes, Wands, we haven’t seen you in ages.” Tony agrees, emphasising the nickname you had used.

Feeling like she didn’t have much of a choice, Wanda agreed, sitting next to you and pulling your chair practically into her side, so she’d have you as close to her as she could, while she ate quietly. But the team felt like they had stumbled onto something. They had felt the shift in mood within her, as soon as she saw you and they weren’t going to let it go so easily. At first they tried their playful banter on her, asking her about her day, about her interests, about her training, just anything to see a reaction, but none actually came. It was only when you spoke that she would light up. She would smile, when she listened to you, when she forgot that it wasn’t just the two of you in the room. But it was the little blush that showed on her cheeks, when you called her “darling” that first sparked an idea within them. “Hey, Y/N, I hear you tried your hand against Cap here.” Bucky stared off, attracting your attention. “Tried being the key word. Hand to hand I don’t stand a chance, but with a little magic…” You trailed off, shrugging. “Who knows…” “Yeah?” His smile widens. “Well, if you’re looking for a challenge, join me for a spar this afternoon.” He invited. “She’s training with me this afternoon.” Wanda practically growled, looking up from her bowl for just a second, to stare down Bucky. Her glare was murderous. “That’s too bad, I was hoping for a little magic.” The man said, obviously bating Wanda. “Then perhaps you should train with me. I have magic.” Wanda snarled, summoning a ball of energy between her fingers for a moment, just to get her point across and luckily, the man was smart enough to back off. “Well, if you’re busy training, perhaps I can finally take dear Y/N to get a proper costume. The two of you can’t keep borrowing my leather jackets and pretend that it’s a real suit.” Natasha interjected. “What do you say dear?” She asked, her voice dropping an octave. “I already have some ideas in mind. You can try them on for me.” She suggested, noting the way Wanda’s knuckles turned white around her spoon. “And I’m sure Tony can make some improvements.” “Oh yeah.” The man chimed in, happy to take his own turn teasing Wanda. “I’ll have to get your measurements of course. To make sure it fits perfectly.” He says casually, but the idea of it makes Wanda’s blood boil. “She’s busy today.” Wanda retorts, before you even get a chance to open your mouth and you find yourself surprised to see her so tense. “Tomorrow perhaps.” Tony shrugs, taking on Wanda’s glare. “I’ll make time for her.” He adds. “She’s mine.” Wanda snaps, raising from her seat and balling her fists. “What was that?” Tony pretends not to hear her, smirking at the pissed off witch. “I said, she’s mine.” Wanda grits out, turning to you, ready to drag you out of the room.

It’s then that she realizes what she had said. That you were right there next to her, looking at her with a mixture of disbelief and hopefulness. The thing is, Wanda was desperately in love with you too. She was also, as the team quickly started to realize, extremely possessive, and she wasn’t going to watch every man and woman in the room flirt with you. The only problem was that she hadn’t told you all that. Scared to ruin your friendship and loose you for good, she opted for hiding her feelings, which only intensified her jealousy. She hadn’t staked her claim on you and it made her scared that someone else might. So every time you weren’t with her, she’d be on edge, lurking in corners, sending people glares whenever they spoke to you, hoping to keep them away until she could finally tell you how she felt. Such behaviour had earned her a reputation in the Tower as grumpy, and since everyone knew how dangerous she could be, they tried to stay away. Now, however, cornered and taken by surprise, she had let it slip. And you were right next to her, so it was impossible that you didn’t hear her earlier words. “Y/N…” She stutters, taken aback. “I didn’t mean… I…” She stumbled over her words. And the audience didn’t help in the slightest. She felt crowded. Tony’s smug smirk seemed to taunt her, Bucky and Steave sharing a knowing giggle between them, Natasha, who somehow looked unphased and simply amused at the whole scene, it was all overwhelming. And then, there was you. Shocked at what you’d heard and looking at her in disbelief. God, she needed to get out of there… Before she had a chance to say much else, before she could think it all through, she stormed out. She didn’t even know how she ended up in the hallway, her legs carrying her on their own, when she heard your voice. “Wanda!” You were calling out her name, jogging slightly to catch up to her. “Wanda, please wait!” You called out again, seemingly not for the first time. “Please, we should talk about this.” You said, watching her stop, so she could wait for you. “I’m so sorry, Y/N…” She squeezed her eyes shut. “I had to get out of there.” She tried to say, her voice shaking a little with all the emotions that were raging inside her. “It’s ok. I understand.” You nodded, taking her hand, so you could help her feel more grounded.

The small touch between you, just the feeling of your hand in hers felt electrifying and she easily took the other one as well, pulling you close, until she could have you in her arms, securing you in a tight embrace and making you look up at her. “You don’t understand.” She said, hands shaking. “I’m so in love with you. I have been for months now. And I was so scared to tell you, so scared of loosing you, that I just…” She paused, struggling to find the right words. “And the way they were talking to you, the way they all looked at you… I can’t stand the thought of anyone else having you. I want you to be mine. I want you all to myself. I want to fall asleep next to you and wake up with you in my arms, I want to spend every day showing you that I love you. I want… You!” She confessed, her arms tightening around you, as if you’d escape her grasp somehow. “Oh, Wanda…” You whispered, a gentle smile farming on your lips as you watched her eyes sparkle. “I’ve been in love with you too. And I didn’t know how to tell you…” You said, trying to swallow the lump in your throat. The moment felt heavy, thick with emotions as you both stood frozen in time, eyes glued to the other, when suddenly a voice, startled you both. “Maximoff, kiss the girl already!” Tony said smugly, followed by cheers from the people around him. Were they watching you on the hallway cameras this whole time? Not that you had time to think about that, when Wanda was leaning closer, her eyes flashing red, before she shortened the distance between you both, until she was only a breath away. Her features were so different now, she was smiling as she held you, biting her lips, eyes full of adoration and longing.

When she finally placed her lips on yours, a gentle caress at first, it felt like you were in heaven. You had wished for this moment for so long, imagined it every night, before you fell asleep, dreamt of it and longed for it and it was finally happening and you just couldn’t get enough. When she felt your eager lips on hers, Wanda didn’t hesitate to deepen the kiss, tongue darting out, asking for permission to taste you further and mingling with yours, once you allowed her access. It was only when she pushed you against the nearest wall, trapping your body with hers, that you finally paused. “We’re giving everyone a show.” You reminded her, head pointing to the camera in the corner. “Never.” Wanda smirked, her magic flashing once more, to show you that she had disabled the feed, before you even kissed. “Only I’m allowed to see you like this. I would never share you with anyone else.” She said with a note of possessiveness that you were growing to love, the more you saw it. She kissed you again. And then again, greedy hands squeezing your hips. She could never get enough of you. She felt drunk on you and only reluctantly pulled away when you both needed to breathe. “We should get back.” You said reluctantly. “Let’s go to my room instead. We’ll take it slow. We don’t have to do anything. I just want you all to myself.” She suggested. “I don’t want to share you.” “Wait… Is that why everyone thinks you’re so grumpy?” You suddenly realized, remembering countless times, when Wanda has wanted your undivided attention, skipping events and avoiding people. She didn’t say anything, but at this point you didn’t need her to. “We should show them how wrong they are. You’re amazing and warm and loving and sweet and I want everyone to know that.” You told her honestly. “But we’ll go to my room after?” She held you firmly, refusing to let you go just yet. “Yes, we’ll go to your room after.” You nodded happily. “I’ll even let you pick what we’re watching.” You added teasingly. Wanda smiled, pulling away just enough to let you straighten yourself and she held your hand, letting you guide her back to the common room, watching your hips sway seductively. It was sweet, she thought, that you believed she’d be wasting her time with sitcoms, when she could finally have you the way she’s wanted you for so long… _______________________________________________________ Hi, dear anon. I hope that you are happy with the story you got for your request! <3

#writing #lesbian #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff fanfiction #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x y/n #scarlet witch #fanfiction request

[admirxation]

obsessed with Hwoarang at the moment so whenever you get the chance could you write a lil something for hwoarang x fem!reader where someone is flirting with him and reader gets jealous and tells them off and then hwoarang is all like "that's hot" and then him and reader fuck✨️

Unexpected Attraction | Hwoarang oneshot request

𓆩♡𓆪┆pairing: hwoarang x fem!reader (afab)

𓆩♡𓆪┆summary: the reader and hwoarang are celebrating their anniversary, but while enjoying their date a waitress starts to become a little too flirty. this leads to the reader standing up for herself and making hwoarang even more deeply attracted to her.

𓆩♡𓆪┆word count: 2k

𓆩♡𓆪┆disclaimer: this is a work of fiction for 18+ readers only, so MDI. you’re responsible for the content you consume so if any of the following warnings trigger you, click off now.

𓆩♡𓆪┆warnings: NSFW 18+ content. female anatomy and she/her pronouns used for reader. detailed smut: p in v, unprotected sex, creampie, oral (f receiving), and fingering.

𓆩♡𓆪┆a/n: sorry for the delay have been going through a hyperfixation of baldurs gate 3 lmao. hope this is good anon. after this i will be focusing on a resident evil series but of course requests are still open, and i encourage them to help me keep practising my writing (of course always check requests rules first). love y’all <3

You and Hwoarang strolled into a quaint restaurant — to celebrate your anniversary — you were happy to finally get some alone time after how busy you two had been, too busy for each other recently. The air buzzed with laughter and the aroma of the delectable cuisine people around you ordered, comfortable with being seated at the cosy corner table. There was a candle between you two, releasing a warm and romantic hue upon your faces, you reached your hand in the middle of the table to have Hwoarang hold yours — you found it entertaining, even still, how small your hand was in his, but it always felt like it belonged in his.

“I’m glad we can finally have some alone time,” his thumb grazed the back of your hand, and you pushed your leg onto the middle of the floor, grazing the side of your foot against Hwoarang’s leg as you two looked into each other’s eyes. He was unbelievably attractive to you, even after being together for a few years now, it still felt like you had a crush on him.

After being lost in admiration you saw a waitress come close to you, you couldn’t help but notice how pretty she was; long strawberry blond hair with green eyes, she walked with confidence and self-assurance with her hips swaying with each step drawn closer; as she approached you saw her name was Abby.

“Hey there, I’m Abby, I’ll be your waitress tonight,” Abby’s attention was intended for you both but you couldn’t help but notice her emerald eyes preoccupied with Hwoarang. As she opened her little notepad her body language shifted closer to Hwoarang, of course, he didn’t notice, he never noticed these things but you could tell; you had only seen a glimpse of her character but as a woman, you could pick up on the little things. Still, you chose to ignore it; she probably just needed a tip and you had no malice to a woman trying to make money.

She took her time taking his order, making sure to ask every single question of the small details of how he wanted his food, you found this odd; you never noticed any waitress take this much care into someone’s order, but the thought of her just needing a tip helped to soothe the warmness in your cheeks that were caused with angry jealousy that slowly manifested within you — a constant battle of being understanding and your gut feeling trying to convince you of the alternative conclusion.

“That should be made for you soon sweetie,” her laughter danced in his direction, her eyes held an extra gleam when meeting his and her gestures seemed to linger a tad longer as she brushed against his shoulder while taking notes, the faintest of touches.

She then turned to you with a quick motion: “You?” her language was so abrupt, and she didn’t have that same friendly aura that she had with Hwoarang.

Keep calm, of course, she just wants a tip, it’s easy to just flirt with him, she had no ill intention, you thought to yourself. Your chest tightened with a mix of frustration and uncertainty, also wondering if Hwoarang was going to be this oblivious the whole night Abby would be your waitress.

After your internal monologue, trying to keep yourself calm you told her your order; by no surprise, she didn’t take the same level of care that she did with Hwoarang, it was a swift telling and leaving — even after multiple attempts to have a level state of mind you could feel that jealous warmth on your cheeks, that anger bubbling inside of you and wanting to just tell her off.

“Hey, you alright? You seem a bit red,” Hwoarang’s caring nature managed to bring you back to reality, understanding that while he didn’t notice and shut her down he wasn’t encouraging her behaviour either so there was a small win to look at.

“Just a bit warm.”

“I can blow the candle out if it’s getting too much for you, darling,” he moved his hand ready to make you feel more comfortable.

“No, no, it’s manageable, don’t worry about it… Honestly,” you moved your hand into his again, melting at his comforting smile that made you feel safe and secure.

“Good, I don’t want you sad… Especially on our anniversary,” he always knew how to get that smile out of you.

“Trust me, I’m happy being with you, you don’t know how much I missed this time together.”

“Hey maybe if you’re lucky this night will end with some more excitement,” he gave you a wink with some gentle laughter after.

“Always remember how bad you are at flirting,” you joked with him.

“Hey,” his eyes widened, “I can’t be that bad if we’ve been together for years now.”

He made a good point.

~~~

The night continued as you both conversed over dinner, you found each other's laughs infectious, also sharing romantic moments of feeding each other with bits the other wanted to try, it put your mind at ease and you were reminded of the time you should have been spending with Hwoarang the last few weeks, not engrossed in whatever your mind had chosen to be occupied with.

As you were continuing your conversation you saw Abby make her way over to collect your plates, you were too smiley with Hwoarang to pay that jealousy any sense of mind — for now.

“Hey, I’ll just take these away, do you wanna order dessert when I’m back,” once again she was directing all her attention to him, that gleam in her eyes that she was getting too comfortable with him was showing, you felt yourself squeeze onto Hwoarang’s hand a little harder, so much he noticed and gave you a quick glance, was he finally catching on? No, just thought you wanted more attention from him.

You declined the idea of a dessert; you two had bought an anniversary cake for back home anyway so no point in indulging in another sweet treat. Abby seemed disappointed, but a shimmer in her eyes glazed over as she told you about the bill — you couldn’t help but feel like she was up to something.

“Y/N, are you sure you’re okay, you seem off now and again,” he paused for a moment, “and the hand squeezing out of nowhere is making me think more.”

You thought for a moment before telling him what was on your mind, making sure Abby wasn’t around and keeping your voice down.

“Well… Haven’t you noticed the attention that the waitress has been giving to you?” his eyebrow peaked in interest, that oblivious mindset unfortunately still existing.

“She seems more invested in the job than other waiters, but what’s wrong with her exactly?”

You rolled your eyes at his innocent oblivion: “You seriously haven’t noticed how heavily she’s been flirting with you?”

“Sweetheart she’s just being friendly it’s what people do.”

“Mmhm, sorry but you don’t notice these things, but I can tell when a woman is scheming and flirting.”

“Okay, if you say so, I won’t argue with your intuition,” he reached for your hand, “and even if she was flirting… Or is flirting with your judgement, I’m not interested in her anyway, I’m with the person I want and only want.”

Despite knowing Hwoarang was only giving in your findings to avoid an argument, it still put you at ease with the reassurance of his love and devotion for you.

Just as a moment of happiness was experienced you saw Abby make her way to you two again, wondering what her next move was going to be.

Your check was handed over, Hwoarang reaching for his wallet to treat you even more on your anniversary date. He noticed a red blur at the corner of his eye, a kiss mark with a phone number tagged at the bottom, he felt embarrassed that he thought you were making this up or reading too much into it, he felt embarrassed for her thinking she would actually have a chance with him especially when he had everything he needed with you. You were quick to pick up on his, that jealous rage that had been manifesting inside finally wanting to explode out, you reached for the piece of paper, seeing Abby look shocked that you were actually doing something and not sitting back and letting her flirtatious behaviour continue.

“Are you serious?” you started, “you can clearly see he’s with his girlfriend and you’re flirting, have you no shame?”

Before Abby could say anything you continued to speak and interrupt whatever lame excuse she found at the back of her mind.

“Just a bit of advice here, you won’t make any good friendships if you keep this up, and any man that is willing to take this bait and go with you… Yeah, I wouldn’t even bother unless you want someone else doing what you’re doing,” she stood in silence, “so take your money, with no tip may I add, and we’ll be on our way.”

Hwoarang found himself increasingly drawn to your resilience and grace under pressure, also noticing all the signs from hindsight and finding your patience alluring; he continued to admire you as you both walked out of the restaurant into the car, an unexpected arousal constantly bothering and distracting him on the journey back home.

When you had reached your warm and comfortable place, you took no time in taking your high heels off, falling to the sofa and raising your arms to invite Hworang for a cuddle you had so desperately needed after leaving that restaurant; Hwoarang swiftly took his shoes and jacket to join you on the sofa, you melted into the warmth of his body and sinking into your favourite smell of his natural scent pulling you closer to snuggle him even longer.

“Hey I’m sorry I got all mad there, I didn’t want to embarrass —” he cut you off.

“No, no, she deserved it, if anything I should be sorry for not believing you the first time and not shutting her down sooner,” you could see a red fluster on his cheeks appear as he tried to over-explain himself.

“You didn’t start flirting back so there’s nothing to be sorry for, it’s over and I hope I won’t embarrass you like that again,” you continued.

“What makes you think you embarrassed me?”

“I don’t know,” you were trying to find the words as you snuggled closer into his chest, “I don’t want to seem over possessive or a crazy girlfriend, I should trust you to not encourage the behaviour and then let it be the past.”

There was a small bit of silence between you both as Hwoarang tried to find the courage to tell you about that unexpected feeling he had as he admired you ‘embarrass’ him: “I mean… if anything I found it kinda hot, if it makes you feel better.

You raised an eyebrow of interest: “Really, me telling someone off attracts you?”

“I mean yeah, you care enough about me to stand up for yourself, also I like to see myself as a prize for you,” he winked and giggled as he teased you.

“And I’m not a prize to you now,” you continued his teasing effort.

“You defo are, my love,” he pulled you closer with his arm around you.

“Hm, how about you prove it to me,” you wanted to see if you could get anything out of this unexpected attraction he had on the way home, after it all it was your anniversary and the night was still young.

Without hesitation he took his opportunity to gently push you onto the sofa, your back hitting the soft plush of the cushions, feeling a jolt of excitement course through your body as you anticipated Hwoarang’s actions; as his body hovered over yours, your eyes connected with his, looking at the lust gleaming in his eyes as he watched your frame under him, quickly moving into a kiss that deepened. Small moans were escaping as the kissing continued, your arms moving around his back and him using his free hand to admire your body, his hands moved from caressing your side to lifting your dress slightly and gently gliding his fingers against your clothed pussy — you released a gasp as you anticipated more.

“How badly do you want me?” he teased as he continued to press his fingers along your slit, moving his fingertips at the edge of your panties, making you keep waiting for when he was finally going to rip them off.

“Badly,” you said excitedly.

“You got me all riled up on the journey home,” his hand was venturing down your panties, you felt his warm skin come closer to your core, you getting wetter as you waited for the pleasure you loved to experience with him, “I’m finally going to have my way with you now… And looks like you’re all excited about it,” the feeling of how wet you were on his fingers made him harder, pressing and throbbing against his pants. Your voice became heavy as he pushed his fingertips deeper into you, taking it slow and enjoying how you were begging for him.

“Oh fuck, please just hurry up,” you kicked you head back softly as he inserted another finger in your core, the slowness was pleasurable but slowly killing you at the same time; you wanted him right then and now to just be rough and make you pay for how you rilled him up earlier. You never knew standing your ground would lead to such arousal.

“Be patient baby, I’m going slow, making you go crazy by the second… like I was in the car,” he smirked, pushing his fingers deep into your wet hole, you gasped louder, laboured breaths released as he continued his slow seduction, pumping his fingers into you carefully — he watched every reaction and twitch, having it boost his ego.

Hwoarang decided to take things further with changing the tempo and speed, his thumb now circling your clit, three fingers inside you surrounded by your tight walls. He watched your glistening pussy call for him, asking to stop the foreplay and just fuck you there and then.

“Fuck,” you said under your breath, biting your lip as you curled your toes the faster he pumped his fingers and swirled his thumb.

He watched you squirm, then suddenly stopping, being met with a disappointed face from you. Just as you were about to beg for more, you watched him lower himself, his face now being met with your pussy, being enticed to lick your slit, loving how you tasted as he licked a streak along your pussy, stopping to swirl his wet tongue on your clit; you felt the moans roll from within the depths of your body, emerging out through laboured breaths, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as you grabbed his soft hair, tugging it gently now and again.

You felt him smirk, knowing you were a mess under his control; he liked this upper hand he had over you.

“Does this prove I’ve only got eyes for you my darling?” he quickly asked before he grabbed your thighs and smushing his tongue deeper to eat you out.

“Yeah, of course - of course it does,” it was hard to stop an early release when he found that spot that drove you crazy, he took the time to learn and be accustomed with your body and what it loved and answered to.

As you were holding in, trying not to cum too soon, you couldn’t help but release yourself and glaze Hwoarang’s tongue.

“I’m sorry,” you quickly said.

“Why?” he smirked, “You know I love it.” He started to take his shirt off, pulling his pants off in a quick motion before saying anything else. “Now, I’m going to make you cum again.”

Excitement jolted through your body once again, admiring him as you watched his eyes deepen with lust and love, you watched as he rubbed his cock before pressing against your wet slit.

“Do you like that, baby girl?” he asked, you nodded while biting your lip in return.

He continued to tease you — only for a little bit this time — before he pushed the head of his member inside you, beginning slow before slamming the rest of his length inside you. You couldn’t help but loudly moan, digging your fingertips into his back as he positioned his hands either side of your head and started thrusting his hips harder and quicker. There was no teasing and you continued to moan his name, laboured breaths filling the air as you wrapped your legs around his waist and begged for more.

“Yes, yes, don’t stop.. fuck,” you said between your heavy breath and moans.

“Fuck, you’re so sexy, Y/N,” you felt his warm breath on your neck, closing your eyes as you got lost in how Hwoarang was treating you the way you loved; in tune with your body and knowing the perfect reactions and wants.

As he got closer to his release, he picked his upper body up, grabbing your waist to thrust his massive cock inside your deeper; he smirked as he made you cum again, glazing his cock with your body’s approval, soon filling up your beautiful pussy with his.

You felt warmth flood inside you, hearing Hwoarang’s loud orgasmic release, trying to catch his breath before pulling out and collapsing back onto the sofa, pleased but exhausted.

“That was amazing,” you said.

“It was,” he smiled, “glad we could end our anniversary with a bang,” no pun intended of course.

You giggled before you got up, cosied up to get your aftercare.

©︎ admirxation. please do not copy or steal my works.

my links: masterlist | kofi | ao3

#anon message #anon ask #anon request #fanfiction request #tekken #hwoarang #tekken hwoarang #tekken hwoarang smut #fem!reader #hwoarang x fem!reader #hwoarang x reader #hwoarang x reader smut #smut #tekken smut #admirxation

[springgirlwaiting4fall]

Beach/Body Insecurities-Being Reassured by Cash Wheeler

Idea and Requested by: @princessmermaid1289

Trigger Warning: The main female character does think negative thoughts about her body.

Please remember all bodies all beautiful

Movies, restaurants, coffee shops were what you thought of for third date locations. A crowded beach on the Carolina Shores in August was not what you would think of. Or a place that you would ever think of agreeing to. Sure you loved laying out in the sun, the sand between your toes, ice cream, and swimming. Having a date see you in your bathing suits made your stomach turn into knots. But it seems like Cash could ask you to go anywhere and you would follow him.

Cash Wheeler is handsome, kind, and funny. He is tall, but doesn’t tower over your tall. Fit with blonde hair and dark hazel eyes. He is an actual professional athlete. It was still hard to believe he was interested in you and this was not some type of prank show with hidden cameras. Its not like you are some Quasimodo. You’ve had boyfriends and other men interested in you. But those guys would say you were cute. Your body could be described as soft and a little jiggly.

You shake those negative thoughts from your head and focused on Cash. He was talking about how in the off season dogs are allowed on he beach and how the two of you should take his bulldog down for the day. Warmth and excitement raced through you as Cash talked about his future and how he planned to include in you.

“That would be great Cash,” you smiled at him. He pulled into a parking spot and turned his truck off.

You tried helping him carry the beach chairs, his book bag, and your bag; but Cash is a gentlemen he insists on doing it himself all while holding our hand. The two of you find a spot on the beach among the crowd of other beach goers. After unfolding both chairs, Cash pulls his shirt off. You have seen him wrestle on tv, seeing him in person however is a whole new experience. He makes your knees weak and mouth go dry. From the corner of your eye you spot a group of women who also notice your date. They are younger than you. One is wearing a “finally 21,” birthday sash over her string bikini. Each one is gorgeous, tall and thin, with thick bust and bottoms. You can’t stop thinking that one of those girls should be here with him.

The birthday girl must think so too, because she saunters over to Cash without even noticing you. Her voice is smooth and confident. “Hey! My friends and I are going to the bar.” She shakes her head to the left where about a mile away there is a bar and restaurant in the sand. “You want to buy me a birthday shot?”

Cash doesn’t even give her a second look, “no thanks.” He grabs your hands and laces his fingers into yours.

Birthday girl looks at your intertwine hands, pouts for a second, before smiling again. “Your sister can hang with us too.”

Cash’s voice is harder now, more firm, his southern politeness is gone. “Listen my girlfriend and I just want to spend the day alone.” He turns his back to her and faces you. The woman stalks away back to her friends. “Sorry about that,” Cash voice is softer and unsure now. “I hope that didn’t freak you out.” His face is red and you want to tell him not worry. You are not surprised by other women hitting on him, but he keeps talking. “I know your not my girlfriend, and this is only our third date, but hopefully not out last.” It hits you that Cash is trying not to freak you out about him referring to you as his girlfriend. Seeing Cash embarrassed is new to you and its adorable.

You look down at your hand that is still holding Cash’s and smile “its okay.”

He clears his throat the red on his face fading away. Both smiling at each other for way too long. Only breaking apart when a mom holding hands with her toddler walks by and the little boy yells out “look mama their holding hands too.” Cash squeezes your hand before letting go. He walks over to his book bag hanging off his chair opens it and pulls out sunscreen.

“I figured we might need some.” He offers the bottle out to you. Cash is only in his pink swimsuit and you still need to undress. You tell him to go first, and have to stop yourself from panting as he rubs his whole body down. “Can you get my back?”

“Sure.” Helping someone apply sunscreen isn’t a big deal, or at least it shouldn’t be. But with Cash it feels intimate. The farthest the two of you have gone is a couple of kisses last week in Cash’s truck after dinner when he was dropping you off at home. And now here you are behind him taking time rubbing lotion on to his neck, over his shoulders, down his back, over his ribs, down right to wear his bathing suit starts. You take longer rubbing in where his tattoos are. You barley recognize your own voice at how sultry it is when you whisper in Cash’s ear your all done. But you do notice the small hair on Cash’s neck raise and that he takes two slow deep breaths before turning around.

“Thanks,” he is waiting for you. Its time for you to get out of your t-shirt and jean shorts. Your mind races with all the negative things you see when you look in the mirror. You slide out of your flip flops and unbutton your shorts. As you bend over to pull them down, you notice that Cash is looking anywhere but at you. You pull your shirt over your head and quickly stuff your clothing into your bag, Why did your roomie insist you wear the high waisted two piece. Now everyone will see how much you miss match with Cash. He finally looks back at you. “Damn,” he flinches at his curse. “Sorry. You look really nice.” Your right arm wraps around your midsection the insecurities in your head are telling you that he is surprised by how bigger you look this close to being naked. (Anybody else who heard Cash would be able to tell he was amazed at how good you looked.) “Do you want some help?” Cash is holding out the sunscreen bottle. The idea of Cash feeling how soft and squishy you are compared to his muscle body makes your stomach turn. You shake your head no. Cash takes your hand that isn’t hiding your stomach and leads you to the water.

The water was cool, but thanks to the blazing sun it feels amazing. The two of you began to go deeper and deeper until you were as far out as the lifeguards allow. With the water going past your shoulders you are able to stop focusing on your body and focus on having fun with Cash. You let the smaller waves wash over you. With the bigger waves Cash and you body surf. It seems like when your with Cash the idea of time disappears and you aren’t sure how long the two of you were swimming for. At one point a wave unexpectedly knocks you under. Before you can really comprehend what was happening Cash’s hand wrap his hands around your waist and pull you up. “You okay?” His face frowning.

Without second guessing yourself you wrap your legs around his. “I’m good.”

Cash holds you in his arms before lightly kissing you, “I really want to kiss you more; but you really should put on sunscreen.” He starts walking towards the beach. When Cash is in knee deep water you tell him he can put you down while laughing. “I could, but I don’t want to.” He carries you until he is standing in front of your chair. Cash gently puts your feet onto the sand, before grabbing his towel. He started drying the top of your head than the end of your hair, neck arms, stomach, back, legs all the way to the top of your feet. Without words he grabs the sunscreen and begins applying it all over you. His hands move gently, his fingers linger over your neck. He drops to his knees to get your lower half, tickling the back of your knees. Cash finishes up by standing up and applying the lotion to your face. “You are beautiful Y/N. Absolutely stunning. I love how your body feels in my hands. You are gorgeous inside and out.” The words make you light headed, because not only did his words sound so sincere, you felt loved. Which is crazy. You cant fall in love with someone on a third date. Or maybe you could? You blink and Cash is standing in front of you, his shirt back on. “Hands up.” You do as he asked and he carefully slides your t-shirt back on. “This is because I have to go to Canada tomorrow. And I wont be able to help put aloe on you until I get back on Sunday. Its not to hide your body. Okay?” You smile and answer Cash with a kiss on his lips.

Together the two of you have an amazing lunch, before sunbathing and taking a nap. After reapplying sunscreen onto each other, Cash and you head back into the water. The two of you stay in the ocean until the lifeguards call everyone out of the water because the sun is setting.

“How about a ride on the ferris wheel or a walk on the boardwalk?” Cash asks as he carries everything back to his truck.

“Not tonight.” This time you take Cash hands into yours. Today was a perfect day and you were proudly holding his hand with your shorts pulled over your wet bathing suit bottoms and your T-shirt stuffed in your bag. “Im pretty tired and you have flight tomorrow. So why don’t we watch a movie at my place instead?”

Cash looks over at you surprised, but excited. “Just you, me, and a movie sounds amazing.” Cash loads the bed of his truck, than opens the car door for you. He gets in on his side and starts to drive back to your place; for snuggling, a movie, and while he didn’t know this yet. Maybe even a bit more than kissing.

#aew #cash wheeler #aew ftr #cash wheeler fanfiction #cash wheeler imagine #cash wheeler one shot #cash wheeler ftr #aew fanfiction #aew imagine #fanfiction request

[ink-and-blood-goddess]

The Gental Giant Part II Preview

Suddenly you heard a loud banging noise coming from somewhere, jolting you out of your deep sleep. The sudden noise nearly made you jump out of bed, making your heart race in the process.

Quickly, you looked over at your alarm clock. 2:28 AM. You let out a very deep sigh, as you threw off the blankets and got out of bed. The banging grew louder and louder as you came out of your bedroom. It was coming from your apartment door.

Who the fuck would be banging on your door at this hour? At this point, you felt very cautious at who was at your door. Slowly, you tipped toed over to the door to look through the peephole.

Nobody there. This is very strange, even to you. Without thinking, you raised your hand up and began to unlock the deadbolts. You left the chain in place, for safety purposes whenever you’ve opened the door.

Slowly, you began opening the door a little bit. Light from the hallway came in through the crack of the doorway as you opened it. Before you could look through to see who it was, something heavy and fast crashed into it with you still behind.

You flew backwards and crashed into the end table next to the couch. A searing white, hot pain surged through your whole body as you felt broken shards of glass against your back. A tall dark shape stood over you, breathing heavily.

“Finally found you bitch,” the voice said. It sounded very familiar, but you couldn’t place it. As you tried to stand up on your two feet, something small and sharp jabbed straight into your upper arm near the shoulder. You gave out a small cry.

Lifting your other hand up, you touched the mysterious object and sent a shock through your whole body. It was a small syringe. You took it out quickly and tossed it across the room. All of a sudden, your whole body began to go numb.

Then you fell back to the floor and landed on your side. Whatever was injected into you, it worked very fast to knock you out like a light. The shadow figure walked over to you, grabbed your ankles, and started to drag you across the floor.

You felt the broken shards of glass dig deeper into your skin as you were dragged across the hardwood floor. Like tiny needles being pushed deeper and deeper into you. Every inch was getting weaker and weaker.

Without warning, you were thrown from the floor and onto something smooth and soft. You quickly found it was your bed. You were dragged into your bedroom, but for what reason? Your vision began to blur, losing focus on the figure.

“Finally,” the figure spoke, “after two fucking whole weeks, I’ve found you at last. It took awhile, but it was fucking worth it.” The voice said with so much glee. It sounded proud of itself. You started drifting away a bit, but you stayed awake. Both eyes fluttering open and closed. 

Suddenly, you felt something sit down at the edge of your bed pulling you down almost. “I don’t know if you still remember me. It feels like forever, but it’s only been two weeks.” the voice said. You felt cold and rough fingers run up and down your neck gently. Then you felt a gloved hand grab ahold of your neck and began choking you.

The figure laughed in a sinister, playful way as you felt your airway being crushed. It felt very familiar. Then your memory started to rush back from that night. The night that it happened. It was the one that caught you before you could get away safely.

Charlie. The younger brother. The one that was about to get even with you after you pepper sprayed his older brother Terry in the eyes to let you go. He was going to do something worse to you, until showed up and stopped them both in time.

This time is different. This time, Bane won’t come and rescue you for the second time. You felt your heart stop a couple of times when that thought kept on racing through your mind. Then you felt a rush of air return to your breathless throat. Feeling his hand leave your poor neck alone.

You began coughing and hacking as the air rushed back into your lungs. Numbness took over your body, as you couldn’t move a muscle. Whatever he stuck you with, really worked fast. It felt like you were floating on thin air. Floating freely in a way.

 “Do you remember Terry,” he continued on, “my older brother?” He asked with a serious tone in his voice. Since you couldn’t move much of your body, you slightly nodded your head yes. “Good. He’s dead, because of you.” He was getting more angry now.

Dead? How and when did this happen? All thoughts went straight to Bane. Bane nearly snapped the guy’s neck in two like a toothpick, the way he was holding him. But, is that possible to happen?

“If you thinking it was your lord and savior Bane that killed my brother. No, it wasn’t him. Do you know what really happened to him,” his voice was getting more and more serious now. Still not being able to move, you shook your head no back and forth slowly.

“After we got back to the group, our Commander was fucking pissed off for coming back all beat up and empty handed. When the both of us told him about Bane, he got so fucking scared. Anybody that crosses paths with him is a fucking goner. Both my brother and I tried to explain, but he wouldn’t hear us out. We were kicked out. Nobody stuck up for us either. Soon after, we were left to fend for ourselves in the desolate streets of this fucking city. We had no shelter, no food, and no place to sleep. He died days later, because of his injuries. Because of you, I watched my own flesh and blood painfully die in the streets and not in our shelter.”

All of a sudden, you were struck across the face with a big blow and you gave out a sharp cry. “I WATCHED MY OWN BROTHER DIE AND IT’S ALL YOUR FUCKING FAULT YOU BITCH,” he yelled staright in your face, as you could smell alcohol from his foul breath. Tears began to stream down your face now. A sharp pain began to form on your face where you were struck.

“Now,” he went back to a normal tone, “now, this is where I get even with you.” You felt him on top of you now, crawling over your limp body. “Forget eye for an eye. I’m going to do something much worse to you and you won’t escape me this time.”

He bent himself down and whispered something into your ear. The words cut deep as shock went through your whole body. You began sobbing softly and uncontrollably, as you clutched onto the bed sheets.

“I’ve made it much easier for myself by sedating you, so that you don’t fight me and run off  like last time,” he said as he lifted himself off of your body. You felt him grab ahold of your sweatpants and began pulling them down your legs slowly.

A cold shiver went down your spin as you felt his hands run up and down your bare legs. He was going to violate you and your body. You continued to sob, with tears blurring your vision now.

He got off the bed once again and stood at the foot of it. “Don’t you worry. Once I’m done with you, you’re going to be my property and nobody else’s.” He said as he started to unbuckle his pants.

When he was distracted with what he was doing, there was the sound of heavy footsteps. The same sound you heard that night and it was followed by heavy, raspy breathing. Your heart began to race as that sound became all too familiar with. 

Your vision was blurring out from the tears, as a hulking, dark figure stood at the door frame of your bedroom. You couldn’t make a sound, as your mouth gaped open like a fish. Slowly, he stepped through the threshold of the doorway and behind the man that was going to violate you.

As he was about to pull his pants down, the dark figure grabbed him from behind and wrapped his large arms and hands around the man’s neck and face. He began to struggle as he tried to pry himself free from the figure’s harsh grasp.

“What have I told you little mouse,” he said through his mask, wrapping his large hands around his face, “about meeting again like this.” The sound of bone crunching broke through the silence and then there was a loud snap, as his head was twisted backwards. Soon after, the body dropped to the floor like a child’s rag doll.

“Now, see what you made me do. I did something unpleasant,” his voice began to fade away as the sedative took over the rest of your body, knocking you out finally. Darkness now covered your eyes.

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

Finally. Here's the preview of part II for The Gentle Giant. I was originally going to do it over the holidays, but visiting family and work kept me busy for a while.

So, part II is going to take much longer to write out since I still need to play catch up with other requests.

However, my inbox is back open for a limited time for Valentine's Day prompt requests which I will link below. If you want to make a request for something else, please do so. January 28th is going to be the last day for requests until I reopen my inbox for the next character list.

Valentin's Day Characters and Prompts

#fanfiction #fanfic #character x reader #x reader fanfiction #x reader fanfic #fanfiction blog #fanfic blog #fanfiction request #fanfic request #fanfiction preview #fanfic preview #bane #bane x reader #bane fanfiction #bane fanfic #the dark knight rises #the gentle giant #the gentle giant part II #the gentle giant part II preview

[dianneking]

Hiii👋 not sure if youre taking requests but I just had to send one!! Im inlove your fics 🫠 can I request Larissa/reader based on she by dodie wt a happy ending please 👉👈🥺 its alright if youre not accepting requests, just wanna shoot my shot :-))

Hi! I wanted to thank you for this request, because it made me discover this song that I didn't know, and it filled me with all the angst necessary to make this fic happen, so I hope you enjoy!

Tags: Angst and Feelings, Angst with a happy ending, Break-up, age difference, Boss/Employee relationship, hidden relationship, pining.

AO3 link in title, if you prefer reading it there!

She - Larissa/Reader Angsty Songfic

 Am I allowed to look at her like that Could it be wrong when she's just so nice to look at

  The light streamed through the window panes, silhouetting Larissa in sharp contrast against it. Her hair refracted the sun and for a moment it looked as if she was wearing a halo. Like a painting of a saint, or a goddess of old. And you, you, as always were her worshipper, blessed by the honor of drinking in her figure like that.

You were standing at the center of the room, the book you held in your hand forgotten by your side, so mesmerized by her beauty that you forgot to notice the tight curve of her shoulders, the way her hands gripped spasmodically the windowsill. You would remember all these details of course, but only later.

Too late.

And she smells like lemongrass and sleep She tastes like apple juice and peach Oh, you would find her in a polaroid picture And she means everything to me

  “I’m sorry, I don’t think this is going to work.”

She chose not to look at you as she said this, her eyes roaming the grounds of Nevermore from behind the glass of her window. Not even sparing you a glance as she broke up with you. You felt all the air leave your lungs at that, and yet all that could be heard in the suddenly silent room was a soft, pained Oh.

(Oh)

“I can’t give you what you want. You need to build a future for yourself and I…I need to be able to concentrate on Nevermore without any distractions.”

A distraction. That’s all you boiled down to. What for you had been the happiest period of your life was little more than a nuisance to her. You tried to swallow around the pain that this caused you. Was that what she had been thinking through all of your time together? The nights curled up in front of the fire, the stolen dates hiking through the woods around Nevermore, the way her fingers curled around yours when no one was watching? Nothing but a distraction?

  “I… should probably go, then.”

Larissa’s head whipped back towards you as soon as the words left your mouth, but she didn’t say anything for what felt like an infinite stretch of time. Still, you waited, standing in the middle of her office like a misbehaving student. You always waited for her. Of course you did, you loved her. Was that part of what made you such a bother to her?

“Is that all you’re going to say?”

“Was there anything you wanted me to say?”

I'd never tell No I'd never say a word And oh it aches But it feels oddly good to hurt.

“…I guess not.”

“I’ll leave you to your work then.”

You clamped down on the instinct to say I’m sorry because you weren’t. You were grateful for the time she had given you. And if she wasn’t going to apologize for breaking up with you, then neither were you going to apologize for making her feel like she had to choose between you and her work. You turned on your heel, walking away from the room, leaving your heart behind with someone you thought would cherish it forever. After all, that had been your mistake, not hers, right?

You had been the one to fall for her, madly, deeply. You had looked at her and seen everything you could ever wish for. You wanted to shout her joy from the tallest tower of Nevermore to the deepest ravine in the woods. You wanted to court her, to hold her hand, to dine with her in the candlelight.

She had been more reserved with her affection. You are my employee. It wouldn’t be proper for people to know about us. And then there was the age difference. It had always disturbed her more than it did you (although she hadn’t seemed so disturbed by it when your head was buried deep between her thighs). What is a young thing like you doing with an old woman like myself? You should go find someone to build a family with, she had told you multiple times. And every time you told her that Nevermore was all the family you needed, and that she was everything you wanted. Had that been annoying? It was the truth.

She smells like lemongrass and sleep She tastes like apple juice and peach Oh, you would find her in a polaroid picture And she means everything to me

  Going back to your usual work routine was unsettling. You went through the motions of your life as if you were sleepwalking, trapped in a bad dream. Re-shelving books, sending out emails, helping both students and fellow staff-members in their researches. The weekly meetings of the book club. They all felt familiar, and yet you couldn’t find comfort in any of those activities, that you used to love so much. It was as if you had left with her all of your ability to love anything else as well. And yet you powered through, with the determination of a machine that was only there to get its work done. Because anything else was now lost to her. How could you walk through the woods and not think of her carefree smile? How can you enjoy a sip of apple juice without remembering how it tasted on her lips?

Oh, oh

The meetings were the most difficult part of all. The first ones were staff meetings, and you somehow managed to get through those by sitting in the furthermost corner from her, letting your eyes roam all over her figure whenever she wasn’t looking in your direction. She looked perfect, as always. She was poised and attentive to her colleagues, ready to discuss the decisions that involved them and the school, always taking constructive criticism in stride, diplomatically mediating between arguing teachers with the ease of a natural leader.

Oh, oh

Had it been slipping when the two of you were together? Were the secret smiles that danced in her eyes when they met yours a sign of distraction, a weakness that would have been exploited in the long run?

She didn’t look any different in how she ran the school now.

The few meetings the two of you had to have together were painful. You stuttered through your reports, and forget to ask half of the things you needed to. After a while she just stopped inviting you for in-person meetings and asked you to submit the reports per email.

You retreated even more than usual into your reign, the library, and watched the seasons change from behind its stained glass windows.

And I'll be okay Admiring from afar Cause even when she's next to me We could not be more far apart

  “Happy birthday.”

She looked awkward, looming in the darkened library door without entering, her gaze suddenly shy, and that felt wrong. She’d never been shy. Not even when you were first together, she had always been the one to initiate contact. She had held your hand first, she had kissed you first. She had been the one to ask if you wanted to move your relationship further.

And she had been the one to put an end to it.

And now she was here, on the evening of your birthday, invading the one space that was safely yours, holding a small tray with a slice of peach cobbler from the Weathervane in her hand, as an offering. Your favorite. The fact that she remembered hurt you somewhat more. So whatever you had had not been completely erased from her memory. Did she remember all the other things, too? The things you whispered to her when she held you in the darkness if her room? Did she, and she managed to go on with her life as if nothing major had changed? As if it had been nothing more than a parenthesis in a novel. By then, you were used to the pain, and you let it wrap around you, like a dear friend who was becoming more familiar to you than her voice.

Cause she tastes like birthday cake, and storytime, and fall But to her I taste of nothing at all

  “Thanks.”

“Aren’t you going to celebrate?”

The small talk was painfully stilted, and you wondered why she was so adamant in pursuing it.

“Not much to celebrate, I’d rather stay here with my book.”

“We don’t see much of you outside of the library anymore.”

“I wonder why that is.”

A whiff of her perfume reached your nostrils and you almost keeled under the onslaught of memories. There had been a time when the faint undertones of lemongrass had clung to your clothes, so much so that you had enjoyed the illusion of bringing a piece of her with you all through the day. An illusion, like everything else.

And she smells like lemongrass and sleep She tastes like apple juice and peach You would find her in a polaroid picture

“Why are you here, principal Weems?”

She seemed to recoil from her title, and seeing that didn’t give you any of the vengeful satisfaction you had hoped for. You didn’t like seeing her in pain. You never wanted to be the cause of her pain.

You knew all too well how it felt to be hurt by the one you love.

Except she didn’t love you.

You were starting to think she never did. It had probably been lust, the sense of adventure, the thrill of the forbidden. A younger body to press herself into. Maybe some sort of affection, too. But not love. You had made peace with that.

  “I miss you.”

And she means everything to me

  “I…beg your pardon?”

“I know I don’t have any right to say so. Not after I…I ended things between us. But I do. I miss you. I miss our time together, I miss having you reading on my couch as I wrap up the last emails in the evening. I miss asking for your opinion, I miss raising my eyes from my laptop and finding yours on me, since I don’t know how long. I’m sorry.”

Yes she means everything to me

“I’m not. Sorry, that is.”

You saw her close her eyes, resignation and sadness warring on her beautiful, kind face. She’d always been kind, even when she had hurt you. That’s why it was so important for her to understand.

“You chose Nevermore. I get it. It should have never been a choice you should have had to make, but I am grateful for the affection you have showed me in the time we were together. It made me feel alive in a way I never did. I understand it wasn’t the same for you and really, it is okay. It was probably foolish of me, but I did give you my all, and I don’t blame you for not knowing what to do with it. It was my choice, and I would do it again. I still love you but it’s alright. I made peace with it.”

She means everything to me.

“You still…love me?”

You nodded, unable to speak anymore. She looked soft, and her gaze didn’t hold the pity you were afraid of seeing, not the annoyance you dreaded. In her eyes you could only read an overwhelming wonder, as she looked at you as if you had just performed a miracle in front of her. “But don’t you want someone else? Someone younger, freer, more like yourself? Someone that hasn’t hurt you?”

“I don’t want anyone else. You mean everything to me. Whether or not you like me back, apparently. Whether or not I am a distraction.”

“Darling I…” the words caught up in her throat as she cupped your cheek with her hand. You had almost forgotten her touch, too. And at the same time, it was as if she’d never left.

  “I love you too. The gods help me, I love you more than Nevermore.”

-

liked it? you can find more of my writings linked on my fanfiction masterlist

#larissa weems fanfiction #larissa weems angst #larissa weems x reader #larissa weems/reader #larissa x reader #larissa/reader fanfiction #dianneking fanfiction #dianneking writes #anon request #fanfiction request #angst fairy #dragonmist fanfiction #crossposted on ao3

[rainbowdelicsunshine]

Hoping this isn't a bother towards anyone but would anyone be willing to take in fanfic requests for Chucky, Tiffany and my Child's Play self insert Piper?

I know not many are willing to write for a self insert oc that doesn't belong to them but I feel it wouldn't hurt to try asking! So I'm also willing to RP as my self insert Piper with Chucky and Tiffany (mostly looking to RP with Chucky but ya know) if writing a fanfic is not suitable!

Please DM me for more details!!

#🌈 fozz's posts #🌈 fozz chit chats #chucky #fanfic #fanfiction #fanfics #fanfictions #request #fanfic request #fanfiction request #selfship #selfshipping #self shipping #self ship #roleplay #roleplaying #rp request #rp call #fanfic writer call #fanfic req #writing #writing request #tiffany #charles lee ray #chucky ray #boc #soc #seed of chucky #bride of chucky #rp

[imsociallyanxiousgetoverit]

THERES NO FANFICTION FOR THIS BED WE MADE‽‽

#dont get me wrong I adore the game as is #but like I wanna read MORE #WHAT DATES AND GOSSIP AND SNOOPING DO SOPHIE AND BETH GET UP TO! #WHAT IF LINDSAY AND PAUL WERE ABLE TO BE HAPPY LIKE KLAUS AND DAVE IN SEASON ONE OF THE UMBRELLA ACADEMY!? #HOW WAS COLLEGE LIFE WITH ANNE AND MARCELLA? #please yall let someone write about them #I really struggle to write realistic historical queer fanfiction because the angst of it is really hard for me #enough of my life has already been hiding who I am and I really dont handle those feelings (like directly as id feel writing) well nowadays #anyways ignore my life story summed up and WRITE THOSE FICS PLEASE #fanfiction #fanfic #fic #request #fanfiction request #fanfic request #fic request #this bed we made #tbwm #sophie roy #elizabeth lambert #50s queer life #historical queer life #queer video game #gab smolders playthrough is really great

[elliedearest]

Do you take requests?! If so.. Imagine being a student of professor snape's (or fellow teacher if you're not comfortable with that) and always being a bit cheeky such as chucking in innuendos during class, leaning in really close to him, cornering him in dark hallways to ask 'educational related questions' and one day when you're both alone you basically end up just jumping each other's bones? Thanks!!

I meant to answer this with a story when I first received this request, but roughly afterward JK showed her true colors and I lost all interest in writing anything for HP.  However, I didn’t want to delete it because you took the time to request this and I felt guilty.

So I thought I would share how I would have handled this request. 

I’d make the reader a fellow teacher and set during the Triwizard Tournament so they’re a foreign teacher. I’d think it’d be hilarious if the reader was from Beauxbatons because, after the dancing display, he might write them off as silly and frivolous and not worth any attention. Though to be fair, he doesn’t like Durmstrang either. 

The reader is friendly and flirts as frequently as they breathe and hardly mean anything by it.  If they can flirt with Dumbledore, they can flirt with anyone. This, of course, doesn’t win them any favors or good opinions from Snape but the reader doesn’t know. He’s not really on the reader’s radar until a random day in October when the reader is having a lovely conversation with some of the Hogwarts staff when they tell the reader about Snape being notoriously hard to make smile or even seduce. The reader is intrigued but doesn’t think much of him until they actually have an encounter with him.

He’s not condescending which would have immediately made him enemy number 1 in the reader’s eyes, but he was slightly rude. There was something amusing about the Potion Professor’s attempt at showing decorum (Because McGonagall will kill him if he ruins relations with the schools when she coordinated most of this with the Ministry) but also showing his disdain. The reader casually throws him a flirty line to see what he would do and they’re amazed at how quickly his face blanks like an unused canvas. 

And then he walks away. 

The little interaction was amusing but the reader moves on with their life because they have students to take care of in a foreign place. They do, however, wink or flutter their fingers at him when they pass each other in the halls but the reader doesn’t approach him again.

The reader, however, is put in a situation where they need a potion done for a class and while they have most of the ingredients and are fairly decent in potions, it requires an advance and steady hand. They go to Snape. As payment, the reader brings a cactus to him(a cactus is great for many medical potions from detox or purifying the air to lowering blood pressure and cholesterol). Snape does it for them and the reader cannot resist flirting with him a bit. Snape gives them a sharp but witty reply that has them laughing.

This moment opens the floodgates for the reader. They decide to actively flirt with Snape. Not necessarily as a challenge but the reader wants to see what kind of response they’ll get the next time. It goes on for weeks. The reactions range from eye rolls, acerbic quips, a blank stare, a glare, etc. etc.  During this time, they do end up hanging with each other more and more first out of necessity (there’s a lot of potions needed for what the reader does and the carriage is not the best place to do them in so the reader uses the potion room) and then out of a tentative comradeship.

The student body and the professors quickly become aware of the crazy wixen that is flirting with the Potions Professor. The Weasley twins have monetized on the situation and are making a lot of money from students guessing how this would end. Some think Snape would hex them when he got tired of the Beauxbatons professor, most think he will humiliate them so badly that the professor will head back to France.

No one thinks Snape will flirt back. Except one. 

People were expecting something to happen at the Yule ball, but the two professors didn’t interact at all. Snape spent his time prowling the courtyards, ruining make-out sessions. While the reader was stuck in their room, finally succumbed to sickness because of the harsh Scotland conditions.

He visits them later, once all the children are in bed, with potions to help alleviate their symptoms. The reader is grateful. He’s slightly uncomfortable with the gratitude and tries to leave quickly. The reader stops him asking if he would stay for a bit. They hadn’t seen anyone in two days and they were growing bored of sleeping all day. Snape begrudgingly stays.

The reader asks what he had done at the Yule ball and laughs when Snape informs them about being forced to dance with Trelawney. He accidentally mentions the students he caught messing around and prepares himself to be flirted with, but the reader doesn’t take it. Instead, the reader asks if he was using the cactus they gave him. Snape is surprised but tells them about the potions he’s working on and the thief he has this year who keeps stealing his potion ingredients. The reader tells him they’ll keep an eye out. 

The reader decides to stop flirting with the guy after they hear a conversation between Snape and Dumbledore. The reader never wanted to make him uncomfortable now that they consider him a friend. So, they stop. They’re still friendly and still hang out with him in his potions room, but no more romantic undertones. 

Snape is completely thrown off by this and sends him into a spiral that he doesn’t understand. He should be happy but he’s not. It goes on for weeks and he’s starting to miss it. 

They’re in the staff room. The reader is grading papers while Snape is trying and failing to read his book. Snape approaches them and asks if they want to play chess with him when they’re done. The reader immediately agrees, wanting to take a break from grading, and joins him on the other side of the room. He attempts to flirt with them midway through the game. 

At first, the reader doesn’t register what’s going on, but then he does it again with this look in his eyes, and then, the reader understands. They’re completely floored. And flustered. Snape is smug by this. Doubly so when he also wins the game. 

Snape decides to turn the tables on the reader and finds it intoxicating and fun how flustered the reader gets. He ends up kissing them in his storage closet when they suggest a dark and barely legal spell to track whoever has been stealing from his closet. 

“If I’d known it only took listing dark spells to you to get this kind of reaction, I would have done it so much sooner,” the reader said breathlessly, before pulling him into another kiss. 

And they live happily ever after!

Until the Dark Lord rises.

(As for the bet, all the students and staff that took part lost, except for Dumbledore. He bet that Snape would return the flirtation.)

#anonymous request #fanfiction request #HP #Severus snape #HP fanfiction #Severus snape fanfiction #severus snape x reader #fanfiction #I hope you enjoy this #elliedearest answers #i am honest #elliedearest talks #Also JK Rowling can go fuck herself #This household hates Terfs

[fiorimaya]

Idea: a angst-y fanfic where Dr. Teeth loses his voice/catches a cold RIGHT BEFORE a show.

Oooo interesting! I'll try it!

The Electric Mayhem had been doing a show almost every single night for weeks. Teeth was driving himself and his friends to the area of their next show which was in southern Los Angeles. However, this show was different. It wasn't like all the rest. A very well known producer was coming from the label he worked with to see whether or not the band would be a good fit, worth being signed.

Floyd had asked him something from his seat behind Teeth, and it was when Teeth responded to him that he felt something weird going on with his throat. He figured maybe he just hadn't drunk enough that day. Further down the highway, he felt his nose getting stuffy. Maybe it's just the AC, he thought. Oh wait... that still hasn't been fixed.

The band got to the venue in plenty of time before the show and decided to go ahead and get set up. Janice suggested rehearsing some of the newer songs they had planned to perform, and the others agreed. When they got to the first chorus of the first song, Teeth felt the soreness starting up in his throat. He had stopped singing for a second and cleared his throat. Floyd and Janice turned to look at him, but continued singing. Teeth tried to jump back in on the vocals but overtime his voice kept getting more and more hoarse.

At that point, Floyd and Janice stopped singing and playing and looked at him, cueing the others to stop as well. Teeth saw all of his friends look at him with concern.

"Why'd you stop? We were almost at my favorite part," Teeth spoke, his voice extremely hoarse at that point.

"Teeth? You feeling alright?" Floyd asked.

Teeth nodded.

"Well, you don't like, sound alright..." Janice said.

"I'm fine. Let's keep going." Teeth insisted.

Janice shook her head quickly. "I think you need to like, totally rest your voice. Especially before this show."

"She's right, Teeth." Floyd put his bass on its stand behind his spot on stage. All the others nodded in agreement.

Teeth looked down at his keyboard and ran his hand over some of the keys. "Fine..."

A couple hours went by. The band had been in the green room waiting for their show time. Teeth had probably drank a gallon of water just trying to fix his voice issues before the venue owner came in to tell them that the venue was nearly full and they could get started.

"Well, let's go like, have a great show!" Janice said, standing up from the couch with Floyd's help.

"Hopefully great enough for that producer to like us," Floyd stated.

Teeth opened his mouth and tried to speak but nothing came out. His eyes widened and his hand went over his mouth as panic filled him. Janice had noticed it and her mouth gaped at him. "Teeth? You like, lost your voice?!"

"What?" Floyd's eyes darted over to him.

Teeth tried to speak again and got the same result.

"NO VOICE! NO VOICE!" Animal yelled.

Zoot was still asleep on the couch.

Lips blabbered something in panic, too fast for the others to understand.

"Like, what are we going to do?!" Janice panicked.

"Well, we can't do a show without Teeth!" Floyd exclaimed.

"No show?" Animal asked sadly.

Teeth looked down at his hands, so many emotions running through him. Anger, disappointment, sadness... his emotions got the best of him, and he stood up and picked up his glass that he had water in before and smashed it on the ground.

"Teeth!" Floyd yelled.

Teeth was going across the room until Lips and Floyd ran and grabbed him, stopping him and calming him down. They got him sat down on the couch again and that was when his anger turned into complete turmoil and anxiety. Teeth had never missed a show, let alone had to cancel one. Performing... his passion. What he had dedicated his entire life to. It was a big deal to him. He knew it wasn't his fault but he couldn't remember the last time he had felt that disappointed in himself. He felt like he was disappointing everyone. His friends, their fans... Not only that, but of all the shows that this could have happened to, it just had to be this one. The one with this very known producer coming to listen to them.

After some time, the venue owner returned to see what the deal was. His irritation did not make Teeth feel any better. The owner took to the stage to inform the audience of the canceled show. Teeth was distressed as tears rolled down his face. The band had never seen him like that before; but then again, nothing like that had ever happened before.

Lots of audience members were also irritated having bought tickets and traveling to the venue only for the show to be cancelled once they got there. One person in the audience who was very understanding, however, was a guy named Erik. And Erik just so happened to be that well known producer that the band hoped to impress.

He explained his reason for attendance to the venue owner once a majority of the audience was gone, and asked if he could go back and talk with the band. Once he had permission, he went to their green room and the band explained that Teeth had some type of sickness that caused him to lose his voice, and that they just could not do a show without him.

Erik felt sympathy and even felt his heartstrings tugging at just how close this band was and how they felt for each other.

"I'll tell you what," Erik started. "Next time you're in town to do a show, just let me know." He handed one of his cards to Floyd who put it securely in his pocket.

Erik left after that. Teeth was still laying against the couch full of sadness. He hadn't been able to catch much of what just happened.

"Teeth," Floyd said, going to him. "It's going to be alright." He patted Teeth's shoulder, causing him to calm his breathing a little and look up at him. Floyd continued to reassure him. "That was Erik, that producer, that just came in here. He's not upset at all and said to give him a holler when we do another show here. It's gonna be just fine."

Teeth sat up and sighed. Well, there was one thing that was bothering him that cleared up. "I didn't mean to let you guys down," he whispered.

"Oh, Teeth. You like, could never let us down," Janice said, sitting beside him.

Lips blabbered something to him.

"Yeah, what Lips said," Floyd agreed. "Things just happen."

Within a few minutes, Teeth had calmed down and smiled a little at his friends. "Thanks," he whispered to them. He was grateful to have such great friends to help him through moments like that.

"We're family, bud," Floyd told him. "That's what we're here for."

#request #ask #the muppets #the muppets fanfic #the muppets dr. teeth #dr teeth the muppet #electric mayhem #the electric mayhem #dr teeth and the electric mayhem #the muppet show #dr. teeth #fanfic request #fanfic #fanfiction request #fanfiction requests

[too-much-tma-stuff]

For the fic requests

May i have some Doorkeay angst pleas 👉👈

Doorkeay is one of my otps tbh so thank you for this!

--------

it was impossible to know when Michael would come to visit Gerry, as an immortal being now time got away from it. Besides it resisted being known so keeping to a schedule was completely antithetical to its nature. Gerry had accepted that, there were a lot of little things one had to accept when loving a monster like that, but that didn't mean he didn't worry or miss Michael when he wasn't around for a while.

The Distortion was as good as immortal but Michael itself could be hurt, or even replaced as the face of the distortion and the next face probably wouldn't love Gerry. So when it had been a couple weeks, like now, Gerry started to wonder if their last meeting would be their last ever. He would occasionally knock on walls or call out for Michael hoping the creature would hear him. He hated that he knew this was the longest they'd gone without seeing each other since they became partially official.

So he was thrilled when finally on the sixteenth day a door finally appeared, not suddenly there as usual, but sketched slowly slowly through the drywall with an invisible claw. He was wondering about the difference when the door finally creaked open and instead of Michael stepping through an almost formless shape fell through. Gerry gasped and took a step back as the thing glitched into maddening, multidimensional forms that made him smell an electrical fire.

He didn't realize it was Michael until it managed to pull itself together somewhat, enough to speak. "Gerry?" He asked and even though the voice was double tones and didn't quite align but he recognized it anyway, he also noticed that there was something dripping on the floor, a multicolored oil slick of viscus liquid that Gerry realized after a blank moment that it was blood!

"Oh my god, Michael what happened!?" Gerry gasped, rushing closer, resting his hands on what he thought where Michael's shoulders, ignoring the current that shot up his arms.

"Desolation," Michael hissed, "Was hunting you, you didn't notice but I, I didn't know how much damage they could do inside," it hissed. Gerry puzzled it out, realizing a agent of the ravening burn must have been following him and Michael had taken them into its halls to save him and it had burned him from the inside.

"Are they still in there!?" He asked, clutching Michael a little tighter, it shook what might generously be called it's head.

"Finally killed her," It confirmed, had he been fighting for his life this entire time!?

"You should have let me handle it, or at least help!" Gerry flared, anger dying immediately when Michael gave a pained whine. "Okay, okay, can you pull yourself together for me? If you can I'll help look after the burns," He promised, stroking Michael's hair. As an entity it didn't strictly need care, but dream logic, care would still help and besides Gerry Needed to feel like he was doing something! The helplessness of something like Michael being so badly injured would drive him crazy.

Micheal's form expanded and contracted a few times like it might have been taking deep breaths and pulls himself back in to a more recognizable form. Gerry's breath caught in his throat when he saw the mottled blotches littering his skin, shifting and distorting, like holes in the universe, patches where the skin, the layer of sense containing to distortion, had been burned away. It hurt to look at but Gerry ignored his own pain.

He ducked under one of Michael's arms and carefully stood, helping Michael over to the couch, pausing to kiss the monster's forehead before rushing to the bathroom for his well stocked first aid kit. Rushing back to Michael's side. He didn't think he could actually clean the wounds so he just sort of went through the motions, Michael's little whimpers stabbing into his mind.

It calmed down a little once he had covered the burns with bandages, relaxing back against the couch he gently pulled Michael against him. It folded in on itself a bit and snuggled into his chest so Gerry could play with his hair.

"Please tell me next time, I could help. I know I'm human but I do know about all this, and I missed you." Gerry said softly, feeling Michael nod against his chest, long arms sliding around his waist despite there being no room between his back and chair.

"Missed you too. I'll be okay." Michael said, and Gerry couldn't help but wonder which part of that was a lie.

#doorkeay #michael distortion #gerard keay #the magnus archives #angst #fanfiction request

[imnotadogiswear]

Spin on the Tainted Miracle AU where Mirabel never goes for the candle. She’s still exiled to the barn, but her reputation isn’t as bad and she has several new advantages. Sensing that it’s future keeper is in trouble and given that she never attacked it, the candle secretly gives Mirabel control over all the gifts for safekeeping. When Mirabel discovers this, she decides to take a subtler approach in her revenge. What will she do to undermine the family’s reputation? What will the Madrigals do?

#encanto #evil genius Mirabel #mirabel madrigal #tainted miracle au #alma madrigal #pedro madrigal #julieta madrigal #pepa madrigal #bruno madrigal #isabela madrigal #dolores madrigal #luisa magridal #tainted #camilo madrigal #antonio madrigal #mariano guzman #senora guzman #au #disney #fanfiction request #fan fiction #writing #madrigal family #felix madrigal #augustin madrigal

[xxxdreamscapexxx]

Even in darkness there is light

Holy mother of fanfic writing! You have given me thoughts! So many in fact that I started responding, but it ended up so long that I had to turn it into a post, because Tumblr wouldn’t let me finish it. I hope it’s what you hoped for, Nonny! Pairing: Prisoner Wanda Maximoff x Framed and imprisoned Fem!Reader Word count:2k Warning: NSFW, 18+, lesbian relationship, oral, fingering, masturbation, somnophilia, dub con / non con, some dark themes, feelings of sadness, as you might imagine, being in prison is not easy, top!Wanda, Bottom!Reader   Summary: Just my vision of how this relationship could progress.

The day you arrive, she pretends to ignore you, not wanting a cellmate, or a friend, but you follow her around like a lost puppy, since she's the only other person you've met in there, sitting at a respectful distance, but always near her.   

When you try to talk to her, she doesn't say much, but she listens to your rantings about being framed and she lets you, because despite being such a weak little mouse, you're pretty and she likes the sound of your voice. In the next weeks, she grows to know you, while you know almost nothing about her. Despite her reluctance to open up, though, she's always nice to you, in her own way.

She can see that you're scared to go out of the cell and avoid it whenever possible, crying in your bunk for hours. Any loud noise startles you and whenever you're forced to go out of your cell for food or a shower, any interaction with the "tougher" prisoners triggers you, often scurrying to run away, even if it means going hungry.

Wanda likes you much better when you're asleep. That's how she takes to watching you, after you've exhausted yourself from crying. So pretty and so innocent and almost peaceful, if it wasn't for the fresh tear tracks still visible on your face. But she doesn't mind those. Eventually they just become part of the fantasy.

And her fantasies start to feature you more and more often, until one night, while she watches you, she hears you let out a small little mewl and it triggers something inside her. Something primal and rather macabre, but she doesn't care. She crawls into the small space of your bunk, making sure not to wake you, because then she'd have to get rough with you and she doesn't want to just yet. She just wants to play with you a little. She feels you up through the clothes, pleasantly surprised to feel a nice, firm body underneath. You probably went to some yoga / pitales / zumba bullshit workout while you were still out, but she couldn't care less. You were nice and warm, the curve of your ass pressing into her crotch and turning her on desperately.

Knowing she can't taste you just yet, she settles for licking your cheek, tasting the saltiness of your tears and humming at how delicious you are, even in your sadness.

This new development has her warming up to you. She starts to sit next to you during meals and she gives warning glares to any of the other inmates, who try to pick on you for whatever reason. She sometimes even leaves you her dessert, knowing you like sweets and she watches you eat the treat with an unreadable face, but internally, she's elated.

She comes with you to the showers every day, not wanting anyone to bother you, or to look at your naked body, and even though the first few times you're shy, you quickly grow used to it. Her real reason however is that she likes watching you. You shower like you're not into a prison, surrounded by people. You always look your calmest while you're under the warm water and you tell her so much about yourself while you just stand under the stream, that she can't help but open up and starts to share a little about herself too and you start to bond.

Within a few nights Wanda grows bolder, her hands sneaking into your uniform and cupping your bare breasts, pinching the nipples and coaxing out soft little moans from you. She sneaks into the pants next, moving past the underwear and finding you nice and wet for her. Fuck! She wants to shove her fingers into your wet little pussy, imagining how tight you'll be around her, but she knows that will wake you and she settles for teasing your clit and practically edging you instead, her free hand working her own needy cunt, until she can cum.

Her nocturnal fun always has you waking to a mess in your underwear and she starts to notice that the longing looks you still give her are now laced with desire, but you're too shy to say something, or to take care of it yourself, scared that she'll walk in and see you, but it gets harder to deny that you want her.

Eventually, that becomes her nightly routine, until one particular night, when she loses herself in her pleasure and she pulls down your pants entirely and starts to rub her own pussy against you. It turns her on so much to be able to use you, instead of her hand that she lets a loud moan slip and she wakes you, startling you into consciousness.

She has to wrestle you, pinning you to the bed with one hand, while the other is firmly clasped on your mouth, so you wouldn't scream. "Hush, little mouse, it's just me." She whispers softly and you start to relax, until you realize the position you're in. She's on top of you, your bottom half naked and exposed to the cool air, and so is she. You can feel her wet pussy against your thigh and you start to panic all over again, your eyes going wide as you try to push her away, but she's so much stronger than you are.

"Don't you fight me now!" She growls as she holds you even tighter. "I've seen the longing looks you give me. That little pussy is practically begging for my touch. It knows I've been taking good care of it." She whispers, fer face nuzzling into your neck and inhaling you in a gesture of sudden gentleness.

The realization that she's the reason for the surge of neediness you've been feeling, that she's been doing this for God knows how long has you even more scared of her and she sees it and she doesn't want to see that fear in your eyes. In her fantasies, when you cry it's from all the pleasure she gives you, from the endless string of orgasms that she coaxes out of you, even after you've claimed that you can't anymore.

Wanda talks you down, until you're calm. She keeps you pinned, as she tells you all about the things she likes to do to you, the words both unsettling and undeniably arousing. She confesses all the feelings she's been having and the more you listen to her, the harder it is to deny that you want this. That you want her. By the time she's done and she pulls her hand away from your mouth, you're much calmer and your eyes search hers with excitement and want.

That first night she fucks you for hours. She has you riding her thigh, while she kisses and teases your breasts, has you on your back with her fingers deep inside you, makes you sit on her bunk, having chosen the top one and she eats you standing up, with your legs wrapped around her. She bends you over your own bed, so she can finger you some more, wishing she could have even one of the extensive collection of straps she used to own, so she can really pound into you, but she makes it work. Eventually you're so exhausted that she has to ride your face, but to be honest, she loves it.

Each night is a new adventure from this point on, but with Wanda it's never boring. God, she loves using your mouth in any way she can. She likes to lean against the cell wall and have you eat her out, naked and on your knees, while she's still fully dressed, or to make you suck her fingers, while she holds you, waiting till she’s soaked and you’re desperate, to make you watch her fuck herself and cumming to the sound of your soft whines, because you crave her so badly. 

After talking to you, she keeps her habit of groping and fucking you in your sleep, but now you don't mind. You love waking up to a needy pussy and messy underwear, while Wanda holds you tightly. She loves how shy you are, how sweet and soft you are and she loves to use it against you. Her favourite game was to strip you naked and have you stand in front of the bars of your cell, while she teased you mercilessly and stopped any time you so much as let out a whimper. When she’s had enough, she’d fuck you hard and rough, whispering in your ear what a dirty girl you are, letting her do this to you while anyone on the cellblock could wake up and see you.

Wanda is so touch starved, that she takes to sleeping in your bed from the first night you spent together. Her arms are always securely wrapped around you, or she just pulls you on top of her, if she wants more space and she shushes any protests you might have, until you fall back asleep. She dreads the mornings, when she has to go back to her own bunk, so the guards wouldn't give you any trouble, but she had learned to be a realist long ago.

It quickly turns into a serious relationship for the both of you, finding comfort in each-other and she encourages you to seek justice for your case, because you don't deserve to be in a place like that and she only wants the best for you. Your sentence is unjustly long and she fears the day hers will be over. She only has a few more months, having served most of her 2 years for getting caught during one of her and her brother’s food heists. It was stupid, she knows, but there wasn’t much for grown orphans on the streets and they were starving. They had the bad luck of a patrol car passing by the store when they were leaving. Pietro was much faster than she was, but he dragged her with him for as much as he could, the food they so desperately needed scattered on the concrete long ago. Eventually, she made him leave her and save himself. It was better that way. Better if at least one of them was out. She never resented him for it. In fact he came to visit every week and before you came along, it was the highlight of her grey existence.

Your friends and family help you a lot with your case and they never give up on you either, contacting lawyers and all kinds of organizations, seeking support and a way to set you free, but it takes time.

Wanda gets released first, but she comes to visit you every chance she gets. She even brings Pietro, so you could meet him. The separation is hard on both of you, but she always tells you she'll wait for you. She sends you letters too, as a way to surprise and comfort you and you never tell her how much they mean to you, or how often you cried while you read her words of love and support.

She meets your family, as per your request and she quickly bonds with them, getting just as involved as they are in helping you prove your innocence and eventually, 4 months after she was forced to leave you in that prison, there's finally a breakthrough in your case.

The trials and the process is gruelling, but she waits for you outside the prison gates on the day of your release and she swears to never leave your side again.

Looking back on the whole ordeal, you always felt like even though your time spent in prison was the most horrific part of your life, it had brought you the best part too, because now, you woke up next to Wanda Maximoff every day and you would continue to do so, for the rest of your life. _______________________________________________________ If you liked this story and you want more, please visit the Masterlist with all my works. Happy reading!

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff fanfiction #wanda maximoff smut #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maxmoff x y/n #lesbian #writing #fanfiction request

[red-write-hand]

I <3 ur writing so I’m formally requesting a lil one shot of Tommy and f!oc fluff 🤗

welp, 350 words alright my lovely anon?

She was gently pulling at her bottom lip as she tried to make sure she was doing this correctly. ‘It’s the eggs. But how many more eggs! How much flour?! How much-’ Her inner monologue was cut off by the door closing sharply. Heavy footsteps. Cigarette smoke. She felt strong arms wrap around her waist and her head being tilted to give way for the man who had started to nuzzle his face into her neck. She breathed a sigh of relief. It was her husband. She reached her non flour covered hand up to run through his hair.

“Didn’t know you were capable of coming home at a decent time.” Her voice was a little strange sounding to herself as she had just gotten over a cold. The feeling of his chuckle that collided with her skin made her giggle, it really was a bizarre feeling.

“Maybe I wanted to see how my gorgeous, amazing, absolutely stunning wife is? And possibly wanting to steal a kiss or two-” He accentuated the words ‘steal a kiss or two’ with feather light kisses to her neck that started to trail downwards. She rolled her eyes and lolled her head back as to let him do his work. Her hands found his back pockets, not even thinking of the unfinished cake batter she had been fretting over only a minute ago. He had that effect on her. The effect to let her forget there was anything else in this world besides them. It was intoxicating, addictive.

He got to the collar of her work blouse and stood up fully to look at what he had accomplished. Her eyes had fluttered closed and she had a bemused smile on her face. Utterly happy. That’s the way he wanted her forever. Happy. No matter what he had to do to make her happy. He pulled her into a soft, lingering kiss. The kiss was broken after a few long, perfect seconds. His voice was always so soft around her.

“Are you going to finish that cake, love or do you want some help, eh?”

#thomas shelby x f!oc #thomas shelby x oc #fanfic request #fanfiction request #tommy shelby x oc #tommy shelby x f!oc #tommy shelby fluff #thomas shelby fluff #tooth rotting fluff #peaky blinders x oc #peaky blinders #cillian murphy x oc #cillian murphy x f!oc

[lilypadding]

Hi! Just like- okay- hear me out! A fic where Nagito wakes up from the Neo World Program first and is left waiting for everyone else to wake up and during this time he visits all the locations that he recalls on the island (in the OVA it seems as if they remember there time in the program and as remnants of despair) but he ends up being triggered by the factory because that is where he died in the Neo World Program so he kind of starts spiraling again and eventually Hajime wakes up second to Nagito like after a few weeks and finds Nagito in shambles over everything and instead of World Destroyer having to help Nagito with his trauma Hajime helps him through it while learning more abt himself and Izuru which also lives in his brain and it being like a healing moment for them both I’m sorry this is so long okay BYE COMMISSION OR REQUEST IS FINE JUST LMK

-- no longer comatose

⋆ summary: an au where nagito wakes up first.

Crossposted on AO3

⋆ pairing: nagito komaeda x hajime hinata

# post-game, temporary amnesia, resurfaced memories, hurt/comfort.

⋆ word count: 6k

⋆ a/n: thank you for requesting! (: I tried my best to fill all the boxes you asked for, and I hope it doesn't disappoint.

masterlist | requests open!

⋆ taglist: @moonlit-raven-haven

The first thing Nagito feels when he opens his eyes is pain. A dull, faraway ache wraps around his left wrist, enough for him to squirm and groan at the blurry view of a metal ceiling. 

The first thing Nagito hears is a low, rhythmic beep. He first registers it as tinnitus, because it indiscreetly fades when he twists his head to the right. But it fades right back in, confirming the stiff, staccato beeping to be outside his body. 

The first thing he sees— really sees— is blue. His right hand is at his side. And just beneath it, what he’s presumably laying on, is a flat surface emanating blue light. The screen covers the entire pod he’s laying in. 

Pod. Where is he? 

A crackling static sound bursts into the space. Nagito anchors his right hand further back to push himself up. He has to suppress a surge of dizziness while the sound tunes into a quieter buzzing. The air is startlingly cold. 

“Hello? Hey, can you hear me?” A voice comes on. It echoes against the metallic walls of the wide building. Nagito turns to the left, to the source of the sound, and eyes a small podium-like control panel attached to his pod. Atop it, a small speaker-like device sits. 

“... Hello?” Nagito finds his voice to reply. It’s ten times more torn and husky than anticipated. He coughs the discomfort from his throat. 

“He’s responsive,” The voice fades as if backing away from their microphone. It returns to full volume: “Can you say your name for me?” 

Nagito opens his mouth. But his throat is dry. And the question sparks no connections.

“Alright,” The voice says. “That’s okay. My name is Makoto Naegi. We’ve been monitoring all your pods over here at Future Foundation, and— Well, we didn’t expect any of you to wake up yet. You must be feeling pretty confused.” 

Nagito frowns to himself. Future Foundation. It sounds like something…

“Do you know what year it is?” 

“...”

“... Can you tell me the last thing you remember, Nagito?” 

Discomfort sprawls in his chest and tightens his lungs. He shakes the feeling.

“Nagito?” 

“Servant,” He mutters automatically. He repeats the word without thinking, even quieter, “Servant.”

“I-I’m sorry, Nagito,” Makoto replies, the static still refusing to let up, “I can’t quite hear you. If it’s not too much, can you speak up a little?”

Nagito blinks at the speaker. “Servant,” He repeats. Familiarity satisfies the syllables. “Call me Servant.” 

It’s quiet on the other end of the line. For a second, Nagito wonders if he’d hallucinated the entire voice. If he’s been talking in Makoto’s place and is pathetically imagining a human interaction. He seals his lips tight and keeps his tongue pressed to the roof of his mouth. 

When the voice cuts the silence, Nagito’s sealed mouth is evidence enough that it’s real. 

“Don’t stray too far, okay? We’re sending dispatch over there.”

－－－－－－－－－

Kyoko Kirigiri should not have worn heels today. She forgot the expanse of Jabberwock, she forgot how wide the islands are, how long the walks are to get to any buildings established. Then again, this trip was unexpected. Makoto had been the one coming every week, but due to unexpected hurdles, she’ll have to fill in. She couldn’t have known she’d kill the soles of her feet by noon with such little warning. 

“How’s the patient, then?” Byakuya chirps up from behind her. She sighs, spinning to look at him. 

“Nagito,” Kyoko glares at him while supplying his name instead of ‘the patient’, “You need to start calling him Nagito. I can’t imagine it helps his identity crisis when you refuse to use his name.” 

“I never use anybody’s name,” Byakuya snaps back. “It’s a waste of time.” 

“Aren’t businessmen supposed to be personable?” 

Byakuya looks unimpressed. Kyoko gives him a finalizing glare before spinning back around, continuing towards the supermarket. The pharmacy on the other island would make sense to store pill bottles, but for sheer convenience, Future Foundation has been keeping supplies in the old supermarket building.  

Every week since he’s awoken, Nagito is interrogated about his memories. Makoto usually measures his mental state and holds informal therapy sessions. The Future Foundation cameras set up across the island monitor enough of his behavior, but direct contact is much preferred when assessing how he’s doing. Makoto had handed his file about Nagito to her before she departed. She’s only had the plane ride to go over the details written inside. And based off sheer circumstances alone, Toko has suggested anyone in Nagito’s place needs medication. 

“You never answered the question,” Byakuya joins her stride. “About the patient.”

“Nagito is… stable,” Kyoko tests the word on her tongue, “He is not currently a threat to himself or others.” She pushes the door in and doesn’t hold it for him. 

“A miracle,” Byakuya says under his breath while he follows her. She decides to ignore the comment. 

“He’s piecing more together,” Kyoko says, walking to a shelf stocked with medicines. “He remembered Izuru Kamukura during his first session, after all.” 

“The first one?” 

She doesn’t reply. She skims the bottles and grabs an anti-depressant that Toko had recommended after her research, and moves on to look for supplements. 

“Why did the first one remind him of Kamukura?” 

“We transported him to a different island temporarily,” Kyoko says, “The boat ride must have reminded him of their interaction.” 

“How much has he remembered, exactly?” 

“A lot of things. His name. His location. His hand.” 

Byakuya does not react. But Kyoko still catches the nervous micro-movement of his jaw.  

“Do you ask him what he remembers during every session?” 

“Yes,” Kyoko side-steps to the right, picking up the bottled vitamins, “Makoto has noted that bringing him to different locations will jog his memory more. He recalls the beach of the Neo World. He’s been remembering the deaths of his classmates. He remembers a few of their names, the way their bodies looked.” 

“What about…” Byakuya trails off. 

Kyoko turns to him. “Off-limits. Makoto fears that being reminding of his traumatic death will reverse all the progress he’s made. Nagito’s fragile enough. We’ve seen the way he breaks down ourselves. We can’t risk it happening again.” 

Byakuya upturns his nose. “I can assure you, ignorance is not bliss in this situation.” 

“I never said it was.” 

“Then when will we expose him to his death? Or are we waiting for him to stumble on the memory himself? We don’t know the recovery process of this amnesia, especially not in a circumstance after a virtual-reality killing game. Jogging his memory little by little could trigger an avalanche in the same way direct exposure would. When can we know he’s safe to learn about it?” 

Kyoko places the bottle of vitamins beside the anti-depressants, settled between the clipboard she’s holding and her own front. 

“We won’t,” She answers, “We won’t know when he’s safe to learn about it.” 

－－－－－－－－－

While they’re submerged in the water, Nagito kicks one leg up, then the other. The splash of the movement is quiet among the cottages. His pants are rolled up just above his knees. The sky is nearly black with cloud coverage. If Nagito didn’t know any better, he’d assume nighttime is right around the corner. 

And way before Makoto is anywhere nearby, Nagito can hear his footsteps approaching. Living on such an inconsequential environment with no other conscious soul drenches the island to eternal silence. Even a miniscule shuffling in bushes a mile away could trigger Nagito into turning its way. 

The footsteps strengthen on the wooden planks that branch into the cottages before solidifying on the concrete surrounding the hotel pool. 

“Hi, Nagito,” Makoto greets him. 

Nagito turns to look at him and offers a grin. 

“Enjoying the pool?” Makoto is visibly nervous. Nagito can tell by the forcefulness of his smile, the fidgeting of his fingers as he holds a nondescript binder, and the shifting of his weight from one leg to another. 

Nagito languidly moves his left leg up, then alternates and raises his right one. His legs feel light in the water. 

“Yes, I am,” Nagito responds, hoping his smile communicates enough reassurance to calm Makoto down. It doesn’t seem to work. “Thank you.” 

“Yeah, of course!” Makoto walks up to him. He kneels down in order to sit cross-legged next to him. “I really had to pressure some co-workers to get this pool cleaned up. But it’s clearly paying off, so I’m glad I did.”

Nagito continues the rhythmic movement of raising his legs before letting them float back down. Up and down. Up and down. 

“You know, I’m happy to see you out of your cottage,” Makoto comments brightly. Nagito still senses tension in his cheer. “Not that I blame you for staying inside. The air isn’t always pleasant.” 

“Yes, it’s not,” Nagito nods at the clear water, “It didn’t smell as smoky today. I thought I’d take advantage.” 

He’s also been disassociating all day and thought the sensation of water would bring him back to Earth. But he’s not about to worry Makoto by mentioning that. 

“So…” Makoto’s voice tightens. “I found something I thought I could show you.” 

Nagito looks at him. Makoto adjusts, scooting a bit closer. He positions the binder between them both and opens it cautiously. As if it were classified information. 

The second Nagito’s eyes lock onto the first image, he thinks it may as well be. 

“This was taken during your second year at Hope’s Peak,” Makoto fills in. He points at Ibuki, who’s tossed herself midair in the middle of the street market. Just behind her, Hiyoko stares at her with an expression that earnestly looks worried. Lining the vendor’s stalls, more of his classmates can be seen in the background. Mikan, Mahiru, Fuyuhiko, Peko, and…

“That’s me,” Nagito points at the side profile of himself. He’s in a yukata, smiling at the plushie behind a stand.

“Yeah, that’s you,” Makoto replies warmly. Nagito’s eyes drift to his two hands in the picture. Healthy and normal. Not discolored. He suppresses the urge to hide his amputated arm further against himself. 

Only shortly after waking up, Makoto had brought Nagito the best medical professionals he could find to remove Junko’s hand. And they’d done it successfully with minimal damage. But Nagito’s been left alone on an island with nothing more than his fragmented memories. Staring at the amputated spot while knowing he’d attached the limb of a dead woman always makes his chest tighten. 

“What year was this, again?” Nagito continues staring at the picture. 

“Your second year at Hope’s Peak Academy,” Makoto smiles. He pages to the next picture. 

The next one is of a snow trip. Ibuki had taken the picture herself— she’s holding the camera and flashing a peace sign. Behind her, more classmates can be seen enjoying themselves. Kazuichi is gliding down a slope, Sonia not far behind. Akane and Nekomaru seem to be competing for who can glide down the small mountain in the most creative way. 

Second year. They must have been sixteen or seventeen. And without the ability to fully fill in the gaps, it’s hard to believe he’s almost twenty-two. 

Makoto glances at him nervously before turning to the next picture. 

In the forefront, Nagito is sitting on a small hill. His classmates are to his right, looking in the same direction, admiring the fireworks in the sky. The smile on his face is peaceful. He recognizes nearly everyone again. Ibuki, Teruteru, Gundham, Sonia… 

His eyes lock onto a girl with short pink hair. 

“This was the same night of the market,” Makoto says, “It was a New Year’s event.” 

He stares at her. His chest starts aching and his eyes start burning, as if the need to cry was a life-or-death decision. He forces a gulp to look away from her. 

Makoto looks up at him. Uncomfortably, he seems to understand why Nagito looked away. Even while staring at the pool water quaintly lapping, Nagito can’t stop trembling. He tries to kick up his legs in the water again, as if it’ll distract him from anything. 

“She was your class representative,” Makoto whispers. 

Nagito closes his eyes in hopes it’ll quell the swelling in them. “I know.” 

“...How much do you know, Nagito?”

Think about her. 

The thought of digging for any memories of her is sending an alarm to blare in his neurons. He shakes his head quickly and scoots away from Makoto. 

His old instructor saying, “I think you’d be the perfect fit for class rep, Nanami!”, the sound of Nanami yelling his name after getting shot, the inflection of her crying in a maze right before—

Nagito inhales sharply and digs his nails into his thigh. He blinks forcibly. A sharp pain edges into his heart. 

Makoto gently puts his hand on his arm. “I’m sorry, Nagito. I thought it might help to remember more, even though I knew it’d probably be painful too.” 

He doesn’t reply. 

“...Do you remember anything about her in the program? Do you recall any feelings you felt towards her?”

“Guilt.” He doesn’t hesitate. 

Makoto raises his eyebrows. “Guilt?” 

Nagito rubs the base of his throat, his eyebrows knit tight. He can’t often name the feelings from his memory. A lot of them muddle together, blend with confusion, and leave him at a loss. But this one is so clear it’s hard to ignore. 

“Yeah,” His voice quivers. “Guilt.”  

－－－－－－－－－

Breaking into the warehouse is not as easy as he thought it would be. It takes a crowbar, a small axe, and an amount of physical force that Nagito has not possessed. Ever. 

He’s even surprised when the leverage of the crowbar makes the door budge. Because yes, it’s physics, but Nagito has lived most of his life thinking he can’t carry as much as his own weight. Which isn’t a lot. 

There must be something pressed against it because when Nagito pushes, it barely moves. He has to back up from the door, survey the wood, and decide if this is worth pursuing anymore. But he walked all this way. He took a boat over here. He can’t refuse to answer his own questions. 

For a long time, he’s wanted to visit the fifth island. Makoto had been granting him access to the others, one by one, and right before letting him peruse the fifth one— he withdrew. He never arrived with a boat specialized for the trip, and he never brought up the prospect with Nagito again. 

Nagito wanted to ask about it to put him on the spot. But he could never bring himself to. He had an inkling it would be the wrong move somehow. 

And it seems he made the right decision, because today, a boat arrived at Jabberwock seeking to escort him to the fifth island. 

Whenever Nagito is given a tour of the islands, he’s never alone. Makoto is usually the one to step in and act as a makeshift tour guide. One out of the three other times, it was Kyoko who walked him around.

This time, nobody is waiting on the boat. No one is there to guide him down the right paths or off the surfaces he should avoid due to overexposure of an active apocalypse. Only the captain of the boat is aboard, with two security personnel from Future Foundation. Nagito tried asking them about their summons— about why they were instructed to send a boat for him out of the blue. They had no clear answer. 

They didn’t even follow him off the boat. The land became free rein for his exploration. He wanted to ask them if Future Foundation was purposely sending him to die in uncharted territory for legal reasons, but he reasoned they’d have even less answers for that. 

From Nagito’s foggy memory, the Neo World’s fifth island was crowded with structures, large antennas, and working warehouses. In the real world, it’s just another defunct island taking after its neighboring land masses coated in years of dust, debris, and ashes. The only structures in sight when first arriving is a vast single-story building (Nagito presumes this was a factory), and the storage warehouse near it. 

The factory was a disappointing exploration. If a bunch of rubble and broken pillars were more interesting, he’d have been captivated. And from the outside, the warehouse looks just as uneventful. But something about it forces Nagito’s hand. Enough to garner the energy to shove the door in and open a gap wide enough for his body. 

As soon as he’s inside, dust and filth irritate every inch of his lungs. Everything smells of rotting wood and locked up mold. He has to squint at the floor to check where to step: the light is limited, and the likelihood of something crawling about seems high. 

The warehouse is a much smaller structure than the factory. It’s spaced like a garage with random stacked crates crowding corners and piling into the space. Old cabinets and standing shelves are haphazardly thrown in across the room, cardboard boxes cradling them. From the information he’s gotten from Makoto, the Jabberwock project was in the works for a solid year before anyone initiated the collection of the remnants. Makoto himself had to sneak around Future Foundation officials to get things rolling. Nagito wonders what if this was a makeshift storage unit for them, or if this clutter was here before the organization decided on the land. 

Nagito steps further in, walking towards the only other visible light source. A faint, shadowed outline of a fan is reflected at the center of the room. He cranes his neck to look up at the built-in ventilator installed in the wall. He can see the layer of dust atop the rim of the blades. He inhales deeply, hoping to find some oxygen— only to cough out the grime in the air. 

Other than the oppressive, unhealthy air quality, something in here is caving his chest in. He’s always somewhat doubted the paranormal, but is this how it feels to walk into a haunted room? 

Near the back of the room, a black curtain cuts off the rest of the space. 

His stomach flips while he stares at it. His legs move on their own toward it. 

What else could possibly be behind this other than a few more storage items? Even while raising his hand to pull the curtain back, his fingers can’t stop twitching. He clenches it into a fist to stop it before forcing himself to reach out and yank.

Nothing is there. The walls at the back of the warehouse are still lined by a few shelves and empty boxes, but save for that, there is nothing there. There’s an empty clearing of floor with in-tact pillars framing it. 

He can’t figure out why he’s still shaking. He tries to trace back memories of the Neo World, as limited as they are. Why does he feel so scared?

He lifts his head. Centered and above the space, there is a rectangular beam connecting two pillars on opposite sides. 

It’s all he stared at while waiting for them. The boom of the door caving in. The rush of their voices when the fire started. The heat and sweat he endured. The grip he kept on the rope, until…  

By the time he snaps back to reality, he realizes too late that he’s started laughing. 

－－－－－－－－－

The sunrise would be mesmerizing to watch were it not purely and strictly red. The silhouette of someone sitting along the edge of the lapping coast would enrich the view to anyone who didn’t recognize them— but Hajime Hinata knows Nagito Komaeda’s outline like the back of his hand, and while they’ve been granted a new beginning, he can’t shake the anxiety bubbling in his bloodstream. 

Irrational. 

God. He can’t even feel emotions in peace anymore. Maybe it’s because he only woke up this morning and consciousness is not doing a great favor to him, but he cannot catch a break from the intrusive thoughts he’s labelling as Izuru. 

Every movement, every item, and every atom triggers some level of recognition from Kamukura. Maybe suppressing this part of himself during the virtual reality is having unexpected consequences. Maybe the injection of Izuru’s talents became his base code and Hajime can’t forget everything that’s been put in his head, not anymore. Or, who knows, maybe Izuru is simply itching for attention. 

Hajime stares at the ocean. The water is a violent shade of red. He can’t imagine Nagito is sitting on the beach for the sake of the view. 

What would Nagito be doing? What has he been doing? 

Makoto arrived in a helicopter after Hajime woke up. He was assured more answers, more clarification on the situation at hand. He was also alarmingly surprised at the amount of details Hajime could recall about everything— the killing game, Hope’s Peak, and their treacherous life prior. 

“Only two of you have woken up so far,” Makoto had filled him in, “It’s been nearly three months since the other woke up.” 

“Who was it?” 

Makoto had looked to the side as if scared to admit it himself. “Nagito.” 

“He’s been awake for three months?” 

“Just about,” Makoto’s voice has dropped considerably. There was no point: the room was empty, all other pods were sealed shut. “But, listen to me, Hajime. He’s in a bit of a fragile state. When he woke up, he didn’t remember much at all. It’s almost like his mind put up a block to forget everything to protect himself. Kyoko and I were having weekly sessions with him, jogging his memory little by little as safely as we could muster. However, we were holding off on talking about how he died in the simulation. It was extremelty traumatic, we weren’t confident about his mental state. But four weeks ago, Byakuya…”

He looks off. It was weird to watch Makoto’s baby face turn irritated, “Byakuya went behind my back and sent Nagito to the warehouse inadvertently. By the time I found out and came here, Nagito was… he’d shut down. I don’t know how else to describe it. I can’t even talk to him meaningfully most days. So when you see him, be mindful of that.” 

Be mindful of that. How can anyone be mindful about the fact that your former friend committed a brutal suicide and left their dead body for you to find? How can anyone approach the same person and exercise caution and respectfulness when your last memory of them is that?

Hajime stares down Nagito’s silhouette in the distance. 

When he first met him, Hajime would have assumed that in this scenario, Nagito was preoccupied in his head. That he could approach this guy on the beach and genuinely go unnoticed. He’d join him sitting, and Nagito would be pleasantly surprised by the company. That he’d act normal. 

Now, after so many encounters with him, and many unpleasant, he knows better. While he approaches Nagito’s silhouette, his footsteps shaky on the sand, he knows Nagito can hear him. Nagito acts preoccupied, in his head, and talks like it too— but more times than not, the thoughts are surprisingly present and relevant. The topics he brought up during class trials initially struck Hajime as frazzled and unrelated, but they always led down the right path. 

He’s ever observant and carefully resigned. He speaks when he deems it important, and withdraws for the same reason. Hajime can’t quite decipher why Nagito hasn’t acknowledged him, though. But he can’t afford to get flat out ignored. 

Hajime stops to stand right beside him, forcing his body into Nagito’s peripheral at least. Nagito finally complies and starts turning his head towards him. When he looks up, Hajime forgets to breathe. 

You’re overreacting. He doesn’t look that different… 

His hair has grown out, his jaw more defined. His eyes look more grey than green, and Hajime wonders if it’s solely because of the dark atmosphere. 

Nagito’s lips part while he stares at Hajime. Particularly at his left eye. 

“Kamukura,” Nagito exhales shakily. His gaze darts to Hajime’s right eye, then flicks between them. A knot between his eyebrows form. “No. Hajime?” 

Hajime opens his mouth to reply while Nagito surveys his hair. He feels self-conscious, suddenly. He’d put his hair into a haphazard, lazy bun to get it out of his face more than anything. It’s not like any appropriate scissors or clippers are ready at hand. He’d woken up in Izuru’s suit and tie, as well, but didn’t have the heart to keep either the tie or jacket on. Jabberwock is hot, either from the general climate or the constant fires not far off. He had to undo the first two buttons of his dress shirt to feel like he could breathe. Standing beside the ocean is helping. 

He licks his lips when he realizes his own silence. He’s been staring at Nagito without replying. He clears his throat and ignores the nerves in his chest. It was always nerves when it came to Komaeda. 

“I’m both,” Hajime manages. Nagito’s expression shifts into awe. Hajime has to tear his eyes away to spare himself the embarrassment. 

“So…” Hajime stares ahead, “If I ask to sit next to you, will you not let me?”

Nagito raises his eyebrows. “What am I supposed to say? That the spot is taken?” 

Hajime presses his lips together through a suppressed smile. He lower himself and sits, keeping his knees up to wrap his arms around them. “I missed your teasing.” He didn’t intend for the sarcasm to end up so prominent. 

“Me? Teasing?” Nagito looks alarmed, “You’ve surely mistaken me for someone. I don’t tease.” 

“Right,” Hajime nods slowly. He turns to Nagito, who’s wearing a smile every bit deceitful. 

Along the shore, the tide has left a clear line marked between the wet and dry sand. They’re sitting just before the cut off. Hajime watches the water lap towards them, surprisingly quaint, slow and peaceful. He closes his eyes against the red sky to soak in the sound of the ocean. At least for a single moment, he can pretend this is calming. He can pretend this reality is satisfying. 

“If I had known you were the one who woke up, I’d have… been there,” Nagito speaks so quietly Hajime leans into him to hear it. His voice is lower and raspier than he remembers. “I saw the helicopter coming in, and Naegi rushing off the dock and to the building. I figured someone must’ve woken up, but I didn’t care enough to see who.” 

“That’s not a very comforting attitude to come from our first survivor.” 

Nagito’s voice sours. “I’d hardly call myself that.” 

“You woke up.” 

He almost rolls his eyes. “It’s just my luck, huh? To get the miracle of life handed back to me on a desolate island. As if it should be called a miracle. That’s too gracious a term…” 

Nagito stares into the horizon. Reflections of red flash in his grey eyes. Hajime traces the bridge of his nose with his gaze. 

“What would you call this, then? If it’s not a miracle.” 

Nagito gives him an incredulous look. 

“Punishment.” He breaks the eye contact to pick at grains of sand and sighs. “I thought I was doing a service to everyone. An act of good charity.”

Hajime looks down. Makoto was surprised at his sufficient memory. Hajime was disappointed. 

Well— Disappointed might be the wrong word. He was annoyed. Disturbed. 

While recalling most of his life with ease has obvious advantages, he didn’t expect to recall things in such detail. It’s not like the information was at the forefront of his mind, but if he took longer than five seconds to spark a memory, it transfixed itself into a full-sensory experience. The scent of the room rushes back to him, the textured details, the space. The posture of his stance, the direction of his eyes, the weight of his clothes. Everything. He wants to blame this on Izuru’s integration, because his memories get even clearer for any event that occurred after the surgery. 

And when it comes to recalling the Tragedy, it is the worst thing he could ask for. 

Slaughters and their stench of blood, the rubble and smoke emerging from old playgrounds, the electrical buzz in the air whenever too many robo-bears gathered in one area. 

Right now, one memory rushes back: the sight of Nagito Komaeda on his knees with his pants pulled down, adjusting messily-applied blood stained gauze tape on both of his thighs. When Izuru— when he had walked in and observed him callously, Nagito looked up, his eyes peeking out from his overgrown bangs, and blinked. 

Of course, their interactions during this time frame stretched further than a single instance, but Hajime is overwhelmed immediately by the overbearing memory of his self-deprecating smile and comments. 

Remnant or not, Nagito’s thought process has always been backwards. 

“I tried to do the one noble thing I could think of,” Nagito says. “And failed.” 

A wave rolls in. A subtle crash pushes the sand and drenches it darker before it recedes. 

“Now I’m expected to believe that I deserve a clean slate? A second shot at life?” 

Hajime leans forward to glare at him. “You do deserve this.” 

Nagito laughs. “Shouldn’t your judgement be better after being injected with every talent in the world?” 

He’s jealous. 

He closes his eyes to stifle Izuru’s ever-present analysis. He can handle this without its help. He is Hajime. He has gotten through worse. 

“You do.” 

“Don’t lie to me. It’s hard enough to believe that coming from someone who consented to a lobotomy.” 

His shoulders tense. Okay. He has gotten through worse, but fucking hell, if Komaeda isn’t still infuriating when he gets snappy. 

“Nagito. I’m not stupid.” 

“I don’t know, Hajime, your words say otherwise.” 

“Don’t look away from me.”

He’s not sure if the sudden anger in his tone is what gets Nagito to reluctantly comply. To finally make eye contact with him again. 

“I am not stupid,” Hajime starts, his words spaced out for emphasis, “I know you love to act like I am, but I’m not.” 

He leans in for good measure, more than confident about his next assertion: 

“You do not wholeheartedly believe that this is punishment. You do not believe that you deserve to die. That all of us deserve to die.” 

“Do I seem like the type to excuse criminals?” 

“You seem like the type to have hope.” 

Nagito freezes. Hajime presses.

“Who left the poison bottle perfectly positioned at the center of your fridge? Who left a single foil from that poison under their bed? Who deliberately left that gas mask and gloves lying around?” 

Nagito recoils as if he’s being shunned. 

“Go on. Answer me,” Hajime continues, “Who did all of that? Because I know Monokuma would not care enough to fabricate evidence for your sake. And I know you’re intelligent enough to know the crumbs you’re leaving behind.”

Hajime doesn’t stop himself even while Nagito refuses to look at him.

“You don’t get to play dumb with me. I have watched you manipulate situations and conversations firsthand. I have seen you in control, you know exactly how to get what you want. You are deliberate in your choices. And while you despised everyone and yourself for becoming despair— You did not make the case impossible.

“You could have left us in the dark. You could have destroyed every single piece of evidence. You could have effectively gotten us all killed. Yet you didn’t. You left just enough so that maybe, just maybe, if someone dared to snoop around enough, they would realize the truth.” 

Nagito’s eyes stay glued ahead. As if acting indifferent absolves Hajime’s words of meaning. 

“Even after finding out the worst, a small part of you had faith in our hope. It’s what let us win the trial.” 

Hajime tries sealing his lips. The next thought is impulsive, and it may be the wrong thing to say, but he can’t stop himself: 

“It’s what makes you exceptional, Komaeda. You… For all your talk about hope, you’re not insincere about it. You really do believe.” 

Nagito finally turns to him, wide-eyed. He clearly wasn’t expecting a compliment. 

“And you couldn’t shake your belief in the people who were trying so hard to stay alive and stay friends. By proxy… call me crazy, but you believe in yourself, too. If you didn’t, you would’ve never dared enact any plan as elaborate and insane as you did.” 

Nagito’s staring at Hajime now. The expression on his face is vague enough to remain unreadable. 

“If you irredeemably embodied despair, through and through, you would have never died for the sake of hope.” 

Hajime takes a deep breath. That was a weight off his chest. 

He’d consumed himself thinking about Komaeda after his trial. He never thought he’d get to confront him with all his conclusions. Hajime stares at the shoreline, the subtle movement of the red water rippling while it rises and falls.

It’s quiet for a long moment before either of them speak. The anxiety that he’s been ignoring speeds up his heartbeat. He touches his own chest as if it’ll suppress it. 

“That’s an admirable conclusion to make, Hajime.”

When Hajime turns to him, he doesn’t think he’s ever seen Nagito so relaxed:

“And from a Reserve Course student, no less…” 

“Ha-ha,” Hajime squints at him. “You’re so funny.” 

Nagito breaks into a small giggle, ducking his head into his chest. Hajime stares at him and lets his chest fill with relief. 

“Admirable?” Hajime repeats. He doesn’t realize until now that he’s smiling, too, “Are you admitting that the conclusion is correct?” 

“Now, now,” Nagito says, “Surely the Ultimate Hope can decipher that.” 

“Can you pick a side?” Hajime asks when Nagito laughs again, “Am I a talentless Reserve student, or am I an Ultimate?” 

Nagito hums, dramatically thoughtful. “That depends. Did Kamukura’s endless knowledge help you make that conclusion about me?” 

“No. That was me.” 

“Then the answer is obvious,” Nagito’s eyes shine for the first time. “You’re Hajime.” 

Objectively, Hajime knows this. He knows his identity cannot be ripped in half. He knows his name. 

Still. It’s nice to hear Nagito say it. 

For once, the sound of the ocean waves starts to lull him into relaxing his shoulders. Hajime stares at a small gap in the clouds forming, the single parting point he’s noticed. 

“So, what do we do? It’s just the two of us here.” 

It’s clear that Nagito’s question is more of a big-picture concern. They’re the only two people awake. At this rate, the rest of their classmates will take years to wake up one-by-one. How can they lead such a lonesome life with hope? 

Hajime presses his lips together and glances back towards the buildings. 

“I guess, for now, we should start with some food.”

#nagito komaeda #hajime hinata #komahina #super danganronpa 2 #goodbye despair #danganronpa fanfiction #danganronpa 2 fanfiction #post game #komaeda x hinata #hajime x nagito #request #fanfiction request #moonlit-raven-haven #lilypaddingwriting

[ink-and-blood-goddess]

First Time (Arthur Harrow x Reader)

Requested by @sarasiadati-Hi can i ask for a fic harrow x reader (smut_romance_lemon) where its reader's first time and she is so afraid. But harrow take care of her and tickle her and her clit is her weakest spot . I love your writings😘 you are one out of ten😘😘

A/N-Finally another Arthur Harrow fanfic request all finished up. Sorry if I made you wait for this, but it was worth it trust me. As a heads up, I’m already in the process of making the next Character List so be on the lookout for an announcement/update. Also, I’m still playing catch up with other fanfic requests, so please be patient and give me time…

Other than that, please enjoy 🙂    

Oh, and thank you for the compliment. It means so much to me that others, including you, enjoy my writings 😘💕

Warnings: FULL BLOWN SMUT, fluff, loss of virginity, unprotected sex, some fingering, slight orgasm, slight nudity, and some language 

Citrus Scale: 🍋 (SMUT BELOW THE CUT! MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!! YOU’VE BEEN WARNED!!!)

W.C+: 2.3K

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You’ve been with Arthur for two years now. Living happily together and doing everything together. Well, except for one thing. Neither of you had sex with one another. It was a topic that either of you have discussed about doing together as a couple. But there was one thing in the way of it. You were a virgin.

You’ve never had sex in your entire life. Never have you done it with anybody if you had been in a serious relationship. The only thing you’ve never thought of, until now.

It was nice and warm outside. The smell of Spring blew through the community living area, after it had got done raining. The Spring rain always had a lovely scent to it, even at night. You’ve opened the windows to your shared bedroom, as the rain slowed down a bit earlier. Little rain droplets plopping down onto the windowsill into little puddles of water.

 The white window curtains blew swiftly in the night time breeze. Dancing along with the Spring air. You sat on the bed, across from the window reading one of your books. The bedroom was quite spacious for you and Arthur. You had your things and Arthur had his.

 As you read, the breeze blew gently across your bare legs. You felt your skin prickle at the cool touch, making you shiver a bit. The only warmth you’ve had on was a baggy sweatshirt covering your entire upper body.  The other piece of clothing you have on was a pair of pantties. You wore this to bed every night whenever it was nice out.

After you turned a page in your book, the sound of tapping cut through the silence. But you knew what that sound was. It was the sound of Arthur’s cane. The sound of it grew closer and closer towards the doorway. 

The door to the bedroom creaked open as Arthur entered through the threshold. Closing your book now, you set it on the nightstand beside your side and turned to look over at Arthur.

Arthur looked graceful as ever. He turned to close and lock the door behind him, with his cane in the other hand. Looking over his shoulder, a smile spread across his lips and looked over you with his beautiful blue eyes. They glowed ever so brightly in the light.

“(Y/N),” he whispered, “you look so beautiful tonight.” He said, as he started to walk over to the bed. The tapping of the cane resumed on the stone tile floor.

“As ever,” you said back in a chipper tone. Arthur chuckled at the remark, “yes as ever.” He lowered himself and sat on the soft bed at last. Arthur hung his cane on the edge of the bedpost on the head board. Then he took off his sandals and placed them near his nightstand.

He turned himself over and laid on his side to face you. You could feel your heart fluttering, as Arthur looked upon you with his hungry eyes. “You look very stunning sitting like that next to me,” he breathed out. Arthur couldn’t take his eyes off of you for a moment.

Then he slowly moved his hands over towards you, grabbing a hold of both of your sides, and pulled you over to him. You felt his fingers grip onto the cloth of your sweatshirt and feel the sheets beneath you glide against your bare skin.

You giggled and squealed a bit as he pulled you closer and closer to him. Finally within his grasp, Arthur started peppering your face and neck with a bunch of kisses. His lips ghosting your soft skin each time they left. It felt like he was devouring you with his love.

Squirming beneath his grasp, you couldn’t contain your playful and delighted giggles. Arthur lightly chuckled as continued to kiss you. After a few moments, he placed one final kiss on your soft and tender lips.

“I’m sorry,” he breathed out, “I couldn’t help but kiss you when I saw you just laying there. Always makes me smile, you know that,” he said as he ran his hand through your soft (H/C) hair. You loved it whenever Arthur played with your hair. Feeling his fingers run through the strands.

Your eyes fluttered, as his slender fingers entangled and wrapped themselves around the strands. “Oh (Y/N), you’re so beautiful. You and me, we belong together,” he said as he placed another kiss on your forehead. Arthur was right. The both of you belong to one another together.

“(Y/N),” he said, but with a normal tone, “I would like to try something new tonight with you.” You arched a brow at him and sat up against the headboard. Arthur removed his arms from you and returned them to his sides. “What would that be Arthur,” you asked with a curious tone.

It took him a few moments to think over what he was going to say to you. He was biting the edge of his lower lip and then licked them with his tongue. “We’ve been together for two years (Y/N). I think it’s time to try something new.”

“Like what exactly Arthur,” you asked, as you crossed your arms. Arthur continued to think for another moment. Whatever it was, he was being careful with what words to say to you. Arthur took several deep breaths at a time.

“(Y/N),” he said in a soft tone, “I want to have sexual intercourse with you.” 

You felt your heart drop to the pit of your stomach. He finally said it. Arthur wants to have sexual intercourse with you now. You were fearing this would happen one day. You sat up quickly in surprise.

“Sexual intercourse,” you said in a surprised tone. You started fiddling with your fingers as your heart began racing inside your chest. “I-I-I don’t kn-kn-kn-know Arthur,” you began to stutter, “do you think it’s a good idea?” Asking him in a panicked calm manner.

He tilted his head to the side, looking a little confused by your answer. “What do you mean by that (Y/N),” he asked, pushing himself closer to you. Feeling very confused, you raced through your mind to find the right answer to that question, but nothing came out of your lips.

“It’s okay, you can tell me what it is.” He said in a softer tone. After several moments of thinking it over, you found what you were going to say. “Arthur,” you said slowly, “I’ve never had sex before.”

Arthur’s eyes widened with surprise from what you said. “You’ve never had sex before,” laughing a bit after asking you that question. You shook your head no. “Not once. Not with one person.”

Arthur still looked stunned at you. Flabbergasted more like it. He tried to laugh it off for a moment, but quickly covered his mouth with his hand. You felt your heart drop to the bottom of your stomach. “You don’t love me, do you Arthur,” you asked in a low voice, rolling over onto your side. Facing away from Arthur.

“No no no no no no no no, I didn’t say that,” Arthur defended his reaction, “I’m just shocked that’s all. I just didn’t know that about you.” He placed his hand on your shoulder. Reassuring you that he did nothing wrong to hurt your feelings.

You turned back over towards him, looking into his gentle blue eyes. “You mean it?” Asking him softly. He nodded his head, “Yes. I mean it.” Sitting back up against the headboard, you continued to gaze softly into his eyes.

“(Y/N). I’d like to try something with you.” You arched an eyebrow at him. “What is it Arthur?” Asking him in a much calmer manner than the first time. “Since you’ve never had sex before, I want to give you a headstart experience.” He began to motion you towards the middle of the bed.

“Arthur, what are you doing?” You asked in a curious voice. He began to softly shush you, “don’t worry my dear (Y/N), I’m going to be very gentle with you.”

You felt his hands rub up and down your bare legs, making you shiver beneath his delightful touch. Then you felt his hands go up to your hips, slipping his fingers beneath your pantties. Slowly, he began to pull them down your legs with his slender fingers. 

The soft material glides across your skin, making your heart race a bit. Arthur was being careful with pulling down your pantties. Slipping them off over your feet carefully, Arthur held them by the edge and then tossed them over to the side of the bed.

His hands then began to trail back up over your legs, towards your thighs. Feeling his fingers moving around in circles against your cold skin. A sensation runs rampant through your veins, rushing towards your head.

You let a soft gasp as his hands and fingers moved around on your thighs. “You like that don’t you,” Arthur asked with a smile on his lips. You slowly nodded your head and whispered yes to him. He let out a light hearted chuckle.

Then he moved his hands towards your inner thighs. “Please hold still. This won’t hurt a bit,” he said as he started to move your legs apart slowly. Gently pushing them apart and spreading them out on the bed. The warmth of his hands sent another sensation across your body, pressing them against the soft flesh.

“My my. What a pretty thing we have here,” he said in amazement. Slowly, his right hand crawled towards your upper, inner thigh where your clit was. Once he stopped there, he started moving his two fingers around in small circles. Sorta tickling you in a way.

A small laugh escaped from your lips, making it tingle you almost. “You like that my dear,” Arthur asked in a curious manner, tilting his head to the side. “Yes. I do,” you said with a bright smile, “I’m very ticklish. Even down there.”

“Ticklish? I’ve had no idea,” he said with a devious smile. Still, he continued to move his fingers in circles on your clit. Making you laugh and gasp at the same time. “Let’s take this up a notch, shall we,” he said with a serious tone.

Moving his fingers away from your soft clit, he brushed them over your slick and wet folds. Another shiver went down your back, as you felt the tip of his fingers hovering above your opening. Making little circles around your soft area. Then, he started to slowly push his two fingers inside of you. Placing his other hand softly on your other thigh for a better grip.

A moan escaped from your lips, as his fingers began pumping in and out in a slow movement. You gripped onto the bedsheets with both hands, digging your fingers deep into the silk cloth. 

“You’re loving this. I can see it,” he said in a playful tone. You nodded your head, as another moan came out. “Fuck.” You said in a low, soft tone. Arthur continued to push his two fingers deeper into you. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” you said repeataly under your breath. 

What was this sensation you were feeling? You felt your face flush and eyes fluttering. Heart racing like a running rabbit. Hands continued to grip onto the sheets.

“Alright my dear. Let’s try something you’ll really enjoy,” he said as he pulled his two fingers out. An emptiness filled you once his fingers left your slick folds. Like a hole caving into your empty stomach. You were very breathless. Breathing in and out slow and fast at times.

Lifting your head up from the headboard, Arthur got onto his knees and began to pull his pants down. As he did, another gasp came out of your lips. Once they were pulled down, you saw something graceful. His cock.

It was a normal length, but looked a bit bigger and longer. His cock rested between his two legs and upon neatly trimmed hair. 

Arthur’s pants dropped down to his knees and slowly slid out of them. He then threw them off to the side of the bed where your panties landed. Your heart began pounding much faster, as you looked upon his naked lower form.

Grabbing a hold of your legs again, he slowly pulled you down towards him. You felt the sheets slide against your bare skin. Your entire body going limp, as you laid beneath him now. “Now hold still my dear, I won’t hurt you.” Arthur said, as he lowered himself onto you.

First, you felt the tip of his cock brush up against your slick folds and then he thrust it into you. A loud and deep moan came out of you at last. Pushing deeper and deeper inside your opening. Arthur let out a soft groan from his thin lips, making another push into you.

Both your hands lost their grip on the bedsheets and became numb. Then lifting them up, you wrapped both arms around Arthur’s thick waist. Locking them with your still numb hands.

Another loud moan came out as Arthur thrusts into you again. “That’s right. Take it in slowly my dear (Y/N).” He whispered in your ear. A fiery sensation burned through your entire body. But what was it though? This made you breathless thinking about it. Your heart was racing faster than ever. It felt like a bird trying to escape from a cage that won’t unlock or open up.

Still, having this moment with your love Arthur, made it more special for you in every way. Having sexual intercourse for the first time with him made you dizzy and amazed at the same time. Everything felt great for you now. You weren’t afraid anymore.

Having this very special moment with Arthur made everything lighter for you to feel with your whole body. Every single nerve made you tired, but you’ve still got some energy left for the rest of the night. 

You want to feel more from Arthur. Now you’ve had something special happen with you and it was with somebody you’ll love for eternity for teaching you this moment in life and in your everlasting relationship.

#Arthur Harrow #arthur harrow x reader #arthur harrow x y/n #arthur harrow x you #arthur harrow x female reader #arthur harrow x fem!reader #arthur harrow fanfiction #arthur harrow fanfic #Moon Knight #moon knight fanfiction #moon knight fanfic #Character x Reader #fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction blog #fanfic blog #fanfiction request #Requested Fanfic #requested fanfiction #x reader #x reader fanfiction #x reader fanfic #x female reader #x female y/n #x female you

[dianneking]

How do you think would Marilyn Thornhill react to Fem!Reader giving her spa day after having a stressful day at work?

Spa Night: Marilyn x Reader Fluff

A/N: This is cute domestic fluff. I know, shocking, coming from the Angst Fairy. Also, I realized after re-reading this that there is no actual sentence that would characterize Reader as fem, and adding them afterwards felt kinda forced. Sorry, I am so used to leaving Reader as neutral as possible that even though I was picturing R as femme, it doesn’t show explicitly in the fic. There’s a lot of Marilyn’s body to make up for it though!

Tags: established relationship, fluff, pampering, nudity, suggestive language and scenes, no actual smut.

Wordcount: 1304

“Welcome home sweetheart.”

Marilyn barely answered you as she dropped her bag on a chair, toeing her shoes off. You looked at her from the kitchen, your eyes taking in the way her hair hung limply, framing the tired lines on her face, before reaching her drooping shoulders. Yet another day of work driving her into the ground, sapping her liveliness out until she arrived to you little more than the husk of herself. Enough was enough.

“That’s it. Come with me.”

“Darling, what…?”

“Shhhh.”

You linked your fingers together, wordlessly guiding her to the bathroom, where you only lit the smallest of lights, giving it a relaxed, warm atmosphere.

You let the water run, slowly filling up the tub as you dropped one of the bath bombs in, letting the fragrant smell of herbs mix within the steam before once again turning to Marilyn.

You slowly brought your hands to her blouse, popping one button open after the other, then delicately pushing the cloth off her shoulders, exposing the pale, freckled skin. You threw the shirt in the hamper, quickly followed by her bra.

Unable to resist, you pressed a kiss to her collarbone, and she shivered as your hands run against her sides, leaving goosebumps in their wake until they finally reached the waistband of her jeans, toying with the button for a handful of moments before you finally unfastened it, pulling the zipper down as well.

You dropped in a crouch, tugging the denims down with you, until they were pooling around her ankles, and you were face to face with her striped underwear.

“Darling…” You looked up at her breathless plea, to see her wide, beautiful eyes partially hidden by her glasses that were starting to fog up, her mouth slightly open, her chest heaving. She jerkily removed her glasses setting them on the nearby counter, drinking in your figure, kneeling at her feet like she was a goddess and you her worshipper.

You smiled up at her, hooking your fingers in the elastic of her underwear and pulling on it without breaking eye contact, until she was able to step out of the pile of her discarded clothes, an artwork comparable to Botticelli’s Venus.

You wanted nothing more than kiss up her calf, hitch her leg up to your shoulders and just dive into her, but this wasn’t about you. Tonight was all about her. So you stood back up and held her hand as she stepped into the warm water of the tub and lied down in it, a satisfied groan leaving her lips as she let the tiredness of the day melt away bit by bit.

“I’m going to set a few things up, you stay here and relax, dearest.”

When you came back, she had abandoned her head against the border of the tub, her fingers lightly playing with the bubbles in the bath as she muttered a song to herself, her hair splayed in a red halo around her.

“Would you like me to wash your hair, sweetheart?”

She nodded, her eyes coming up to meet yours, unfocused. You could get lost for days in those swirling brown pools. She was mesmerizing.

You let warm water run from the faucet, careful not to let it fall into her eyes, then you proceeded to squeeze a dollop of her shampoo on your hands, and started massaging it into her scalp, loving how she instinctually melted against your touch, a sigh leaving her lips. You lathered her lengths, rinsed, and repeated the motions.

You helped her stand and rinsed the soap off her body, before offering her your hand to hold onto as she stepped out of the tub. You lost no time in wrapping her in the fluffiest towels you had, enveloping her in a hug as you did so.

“Thank you for taking care of me.” She whispered to you, her mouth warm on your ear.

“I’m only getting started, sweetheart.” You murmured back, tightening your arms around her. You waited for her to wrap her hair in an old t-shirt, as she usually did, then once again you grasped her hand, leading her to your bedroom.

You had lit a scented candle, and low, soothing music was playing from the speakers.

“Wow.” She breathed, taking in the low, colored lights and the whole atmosphere. “All of this…for me?”

“Of course, dearest. You deserve to be pampered.” Standing behind her, you unwrapped the towels, letting them fall to the ground unceremoniously and once again you were amazed at how beautiful her body was in all of her dips and plains and valleys and all the little details that made her…her.

“Go lie on your front for me, sweetheart.” You instructed her softly. She complied, turning her head sideways on the pillow to be able to watch you as you coated your hands with scented oil.

You started the massage at her feet, firmly enough so as not to trigger her ticklishness as you ran your thumbs along the arch, allowing them to relax after a whole day of standing. You then moved to the ankles, slowly inching up the calves and the back of her thighs. She sighed into the pillow, and you had to fight all of your instincts in order not to get distracted by the soft curve of her ass. There would be time later for that, if she wasn’t too tired. You moved up to straddle her thighs in order to reach her lower back, and the feel of your body pressed against her turned her sigh into a soft moan.

You paused to apply more oil, before digging your thumbs deep into her lower back muscles, her moans growing louder the more weight you put behind your hands.

“Is it too much, sweetheart?”

“God, no. It’s…oh…it’s perfect.”

You loved to see how sensitive she was to your ministrations, how slowly but surely you worked your way through all of the knots in her back, until you were basically lying on top of her, massaging the base of her neck. Once you were satisfied with your handiwork, you pulled back, pressing a kiss to the back of her head. She whimpered, already missing the warm weight of your body on top of her.

“I’ll be there in a sec, love.”

You covered her with the duvet, brought the towel back to the bathroom, and then joined Marilyn under the covers. She hadn’t moved an inch, but as soon as your head hit the pillow beside her, her warm chocolate eyes blinked open and she smiled, a soft, placid smile that made her look like a totally different person from the stressed-out teacher that had entered through the door earlier.

She brought her hand up to cup your cheek, and slowly scooted over so she could kiss you, her lips slowly mapping your own, pulling your bottom lip between her teeth to suck on, then releasing only to lazily lick all over it, before moving her tongue to yours, tangling with it with no fight. You kissed like that for quite some time, feeling as if the whole world had stopped in its motion, taking the time to explore each other.

At some point she pulled away slightly, to look at you with all of her love for you making her eyes shine in the semi-darkness of your room.

“I am so lucky to have you, darling.” She whispered against your lips, before recapturing them in a kiss, not leaving you any room to tell her that her that you were the lucky one between the two, to be allowed to care for her when she was at her lowest.

“Oh, and also,” she nibbled at your lower lip once again before finishing her sentence, “you are wearing way too many clothes.”

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