#i hope to start getting to these more quickly again
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"𝙎𝙞𝙩 𝙊𝙣 𝙈𝙮 𝙁𝙖- 𝙄 𝙈𝙚𝙖𝙣--"
𝘾𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙩𝙚𝙧: Vi, Caitlyn, Mel, Ambessa, Sevika
𝙎𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮: At some point or another, you let it be known that you're a bonafide face-seat box-muncher, and they may or may not be into that ;D
𝘾𝙤𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙣𝙩 𝙒𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜: NSFW themes (69, face sitting babyyyyyy), AFAB reader, may or may not be proofread (it's 1 am :D)
𝙑𝙞
"If I'm honest...? I've been hoping you'd do the honor of sitting on mine."
Is... is she serious? I mean, it's not like you're disappointed, just... wow. She looks like she knows how wet you are right now. It's insane. Her light blue eyes staring at yours as she cocked an eyebrow at you. All you can do is squeak and avert eye contact.
Fast forward, her grip on your thighs might as well be drawing blood while she hungrily laps at your clit, occasionally sticking her tongue inside to hear that gasp escape your lips. You can feel her smirking and can almost picture her smug expression.
You shyly kitten-lick at her clit, occasionally sucking, and she bucks her hips up for more. She only finishes once during this whole exchange, while her mouth is full and face is covered with your essence.
"Ugh, haven't had a meal like that in ages. Should do it again sometime, yeah?"
𝘾𝙖𝙞𝙩𝙡𝙮𝙣
"Excuse me...?"
She was genuinely shocked by your awkward flirting, but flustered no less. She was taken aback, but then invited you over later in the night.
She hovered quite a bit, as she was nervous about the position. She kept asking if you were okay, but when you pull her hips down to fully meet her, she lets out a surprised yet ecstatic gasp.
While you suck on her clit nonstop, Cait is shaking and overstimulated as all hell- sweating, moaning, being really loud for someone who is scared to get caught by her father.
Just as you feel her reaching a second orgasm, you hold down her hips and start thrusting your tongue inside her gummy walls only to quickly be greeted with her juices all over your mouth.
She collapses next to you and continues to pant, wordless and breathless. When you ask if she's okay:
"That was... unexpected. I-in a good way. Ugh, now I'm tired. Do you mind... staying the night?"
𝙈𝙚𝙡
"Is that so?"
If she had $1 for every time someone turned around, shocked, replying with something along the lines of "Oh-! Counselor-!", she'd be the richest person in Piltover. As if she's not already near the top, but I digress.
She handled this with grace, of course taking the opportunity to humor you. She found your reaction to her listening into your conversation with fellow enforcers (about which counselors you'd screw), while typical, no less endearing in a way. You're just lucky that you suit her tastes.
She didn't hesitate to get you alone and then instantly act. Her forwardness was flustering you and she knew it.
"What's wrong, all that talk and now you're scared? I'm giving you a chance, officer."
And of course this impression wouldn't do, so you undressed her and got to work marking her thighs and eventually sat her on your face. She moved her hips on your tongue while your hands ghosted along her gorgeous form. She didn't just sit on your face, she rode it. She looked down smugly and would commend you for your efforts throughout, with her heavenly gasps and her showing herself further into your mouth until she finished.
"I'm quite charitable, so now it's your turn~"
(She wanted to have you as a private investigator and has been looking into you for a while, you just gave her an "in."
𝘼𝙢𝙗𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙖
"I don't think you can handle that, little lamb."
You two were already in the middle of sex at this point, getting freaky after things heated up. She was bathing and you were attending to her.
You moved to her private quarters where you suggested that midway through eating her out. She snickered at your request, but after enough begging, she allowed you to.
She hovered out of genuine concern for you, but when you almost demanded that she fully sat, she instantly obliged and laughed a little bit.
She pretty much sat there, acting unaffected save for a few sighs and some praise. She wasn't done for a while, but when she was, she patted your the top of your head.
"I may have underestimated you. May we have this opportunity again. Keep in touch."
𝙎𝙚𝙫𝙞𝙠𝙖
"You really think you wanna do that?"
You said this while drunk at The Last Drop, hitting on Sevika having ZERO idea who Sevika actually is. She found this endearing and said "fuck it." Literally. Left in the middle of the game she was playing, stole back what she put down to gamble with.
She thought it was cute, so she actually started kissing up and down your body first, leaving bite marks and hickies all over your skin, seeming to be fixated on your collarbone. Then, she started undressing herself in front of you, piece by piece.
She then immediately sat down on your face and went to work on you too. She let out grunts and sighs whenever you'd slightly bite on her clit, and she returned the favor only to earn a whine.
Your hands grasped onto her thighs as she started bucking into your mouth and you started to do the same. This didn't end for at least an hour, until you both finished within close proximity. Afterward, she lit up a cigar she had in her clothes and all she could say was...
"So... how much do I owe you?"
Rahhhhhhh 1 am writing about pussy eatingggg what has become of meeeee
I got this idea almost immediately after writing my Viktor headcanons so I needed to type it out or I'd forget it.
I hope this was a copious meal for the gay community, I need to sleep.
Rosey <3
EDIT: THANK YOU LGBT COMMUNITY FOR 400-SOMETHING NOTES ILY <3
#arcane smut#arcane x reader#arcane x female reader#fanfiction#wlw smut#smut fanfic#smut#female reader#afab reader#vi arcane#caitlyn kiramman#caitlyn arcane#caitlyn x reader#mel medarda#mel arcane#ambessa medarda#arcane ambessa#ambessa x reader#sevika arcane#sevika#wlw post#wlw ns/fw#wlw#headcanons post#smut headcanons#fanfic#writing#headcanon#x reader#headcanons
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At the Emperor’s Word -Viktor x Reader x Jayce
Summary: Sneaking around the academy after hours sounds like a good idea right up until you get caught; then, it becomes a great idea.
Pairing: Dom!Viktor x Sub!Reader x Switch! Jayce
Word Count: 6K
Warning: Explicit (PwP)
Tags: Threesome, Kissing, Handjob, Voyeurism, Obedience Kink, Praise Kink, Slight Cuckolding, Edging, Degradation, Dom/Sub Dynamics, Masturbation, Voice Kink, Vaginal Fingering, Lap Sex, Light Punishment Kink, Big Dick Viktor, Pet Names, Begging, Slight Choking, Vaginal Sex, Teasing, Rough Sex
Notes: A little fashionably late, but here is my absolutely filthy piece in celebration of Viktor’s birthday 🎉!! Viktor, my dearest, thank you for being my beloved husband and the devoted father of our many children. Glorious ovulation everyone ✌️💕.
You try to stifle a chuckle.
“Jayce, we can't-”
He's warm, so warm. You always feel yourself melt under his touch.
“C'mon, just a minute…” he insists.
You can't help but giggle breathlessly as he brings your hand into his pants, a large hand wrapping your fingers around his already half-hard cock. His body presses yours against the workbench, the firm wood digging into your lower back. His other hand slides against the fabric of your skirt, cushioning the strain, and not so subtly placing his palm over your ass.
He nuzzles his face against the top of your head, letting out a pleased groan when your fist starts moving. You suppress another laugh, trying your best to remain quiet, but you're positively enamoured of those sounds he makes when you touch him. Without even seeing his face, you know the content smile hasn't left his lips; he's so easy to please.
He's twitching under your grip, gripping your cheeks to the rhythm of the strokes. You quicken the pace, and he lets out a low moan that echoes through the empty lab.
This wing of the academy is always empty at this time of night, but there's something exciting about having to stay quiet. You can feel how close he's getting, the slight rutting of his hips a now familiar sign. His breath hitches, he's almost there, just a little more-
“I hope I am not interrupting anything.”
You yelp in surprise, pulling out your hand from Jayce's pants so fast your arm hits the wooden desk behind you. Jayce lets out a confused, frustrated shout at the sudden loss of friction as you wince in pain.
There, at the entrance of the lab, stands a looming figure, holding one of the large doors partially open. The light from the corridor obscures his face from the darkness of the lab; but there is no mistaking who this silhouette belongs to.
Viktor makes a single step forward, the metallic sound of his crutch against the tiled floor making you wince, as he lets the door close behind him. The room falls into obscurity again, the pale glow of the moon and the distant city lights only faintly shining through the windows.
“Ah, Viktor!” Jayce almost bellows in an overly cheery tone, walking backwards to put some distance between the two of you. “I- We were waiting for you! Got a bunch of interesting notes about today's experiments to show you !”
Viktor's face is blank, his eyebrows slightly furrowed in cold annoyance. He is neither amused nor does he seem the believe Jayce's jovial act. He nods curtly at the other man's pants, which are obviously, painfully unbuttoned. Jayce cringes as he quickly stumbles to reattach them, sliding the buttons in the wrong slits. You're frozen in place, eyes wide in fear, incapable of looking away from Viktor's frigid expression. But his focus is not on you; it's on Jayce.
“So,” he starts loudly, not bothering with whispers, “You barely spend any time working in the lab anymore. You have not even checked any of the upgrades I have suggested for the hexgates in the last month.” His voice is apathetic and dry, and his eyes narrow when he says the next words:
“And this is what you've been up to?”
Jayce opens his mouth like he's ready to argue, but the glare from his work partner seems to change his mind. He lowers his head silently, like a puppy being scolded. Viktor's golden pupils slide to you, and you now understand exactly why Jayce prefers looking at the floor.
“From Jayce I could expect,” Viktor remarks, the weight of his stare making you shrink, “but from you? I'll admit I'm disappointed.”
You bow your head in embarrassment. Your cheeks are burning, and you know there's no way to pretend like this is only a misunderstanding. You wish you could vanish on the spot.
Jayce, always the hero, comes to your defence quickly: “Viktor, it wasn't her idea-”
“I'm so sorry sir,” you interrupt him, stepping forward. You know Viktor well enough to recognize he's not a fan of poor excuses or avoiding accountability. “I swear this internship means the world to me. I know how many other students dream of working on hextech. It won't ever happen again.”
He seems pleased by your answer, although his expression stays perfectly stoic.
“That's good to hear,” he hums, walking closer to the both of you. He stops a few feet away, a ray of moonlight passing through a coloured beaker catching in his auburn hair. It illuminates him in an eerie, reddish glow, like he's not quite human, almost a phantom. “Well then, do not let me stop the both of you. Keep going, as you were.”
You have to assume he's joking, even if his tone sounds anything but, and you let out a confused, nervous giggle. But he isn't laughing, and neither is Jayce.
“Viktor…” there's uncertainty in the taller man's voice. It's not fear, or alarm, but he's apprehensive about something.
Viktor lets out a small sigh of lassitude, discontent evident. He looks at you again, with these amber eyes that make you feel like the world around you vanishes. Like there's nothing but him, and the words about to leave his lips.
“It would appear my partner is suddenly hard of hearing. Were my instructions unclear to you as well?”
You swallow. Your lips feel dry. Jayce is still unmoving next to you, still as a board, watching your interaction with his lab partner with an uneasy look.
“…No sir,” you mutter, just loudly enough for both men to hear. Viktor gives you the shadow of a smile.
“C'mon Viktor, you've humiliated her enough,” Jayce argues softly, raising his hand in a gesture of peace. But the other man has clearly decided Jayce hasn't gained his favour for the night, barely sparing him an icy glare.
“I do not believe I was talking to you,” he states matter-of-factly. The man of progress makes a strangled sound of protest, clearly insulted, but Viktor seems to have all but forgotten about him, now. It's back to only you and him, and the teasing smile dancing on his lips.
“He's always like this. Begging for attention,” Viktor tells you in a tone of confidence, like the topic of the conversation isn't standing less than a foot away from you with a baffled look on his face. “One has to wonder if he is compensating for something, but I figure you are in a good position to tell, right?”
You can’t prevent the corners of your mouth from lifting at the underhanded jab; Viktor seems emboldened by your reaction, voice louder when he continues:
“I certainly hope he's been more of a gentleman to you than this. Or does he only bend you over in our lab like an animal?”
The comment is enough to pull Jayce out of his stupor, and he raises his arms in protest.
“Hey, I'm not that-” he starts heatedly.
“Jayce.”
It's just his name; nothing else. You've said it to him hundreds of times. But there's something different in the way Viktor says it, the slow pronunciation of the syllables, the hardness of the accent, the deepness of the voice. Whatever it is, Jayce is compelled by it just as much as an order. He stops right in his tracks, his arms falling uselessly back to his side, like a dog listening to a command.
Viktor hums in approval, but his stare is no less punishing.
“I was not talking to you. When it is your turn to speak, you will know.”
Jayce's mouth is slightly agape, his eyes wide, an expression you can't quite read on his face; but he obeys. He stands there like a puppet, unmoving, drinking Viktor's words. You can't help but notice the still present strain in his badly buttoned pants.
The thinner man's gaze softens once more as it falls on you. He makes another step forward; close enough that you could reach him with your hand if you tried. He looks at you encouragingly: “Answer the question, sweet thing.”
The room feels like it's shrunk to barely a tenth of its size. Your breath has become shallow without you noticing. But isn't quite from fear anymore.
“T-twice in the lab before,” you stutter, the embarrassment of recounting your adventures to your direct supervisor burning your cheeks. The arousal in the air is undeniable now, and he's visibly aware of it. “And in the library. Once in my bedroom.”
Viktor hums pensively, studying your answer. It almost feels like you're passing some kind of final exam; the world's most sexually charged exam, undoubtedly.
“So he is aware of the basic notion of privacy behind closed doors, then,” Viktor concludes, the thin smirk now fully on display. “Who would have thought.”
He doesn't look away from your eyes when he finally speaks to the other man again.
“Jayce. How close are you?”
You glance at the taller engineer; he's started palming himself through his pants, his breathing irregular. His hair is dishevelled from your previous activities, and his cheeks are a bright crimson against his caramel skin. He's usually so dominating, on top of things, handling you like a chiffon doll up and down his dick with that cocky smile of his. You've never seen him like this; flustered, desperate, seeming so small despite all of his stature.
“Pretty close,” Jayce almost moans out, voice raspy for exertion. He's biting his own bottom lip so tightly it might start bleeding. “Just a little more.”
Viktor finally gives him a slight smile, though it's dripping with self-satisfaction. He's close enough to you that you can smell him now, that you could brush away the wayward strands of hair on his forehead. His face has been marked by the passage of time and countless hours of work, heavy bags under his eyes, cheeks almost gaudy. And yet, there is no sign of him ever losing control of this moment. Nothing could change the hypnotic power of his eyes, the controlling tone of his voice, or the subjugating effect of his slightly crooked smile.
“I suppose we should oblige,” he suggests lightly, his free hand brushing your cheek. His fingers are thin and lithe, cold against your skin, and you lean into the touch. He gives you a moment to pull away, if you want to; but you don't.
The kiss is slow at first, gentle, just the way little girls dream their prince charming might one day give them. He lets you decide when to pick up the speed, and you initiate after a few seconds by slipping your tongue in his mouth. It's messier, now, teeth clashing every now and then, saliva pooling where your lips meet. He tastes nothing like Jayce, his flavour of dark coffee and fresh mint; Viktor is sweet, like milk and honey, like a slice of lemon cake in the summer heat.
When he pulls away for air, you feel like time has started to move once again, as if you've just emerged from a dream. He's smirking confidently, still, but not entirely unfazed; his pale cheeks have turned pink, his breathing is slightly laboured, and there are traces of smudged saliva on the corners of his mouth.
A foreign whine makes you both turn towards Jayce, who is clearly on the edge of orgasm. He's abandoned any pretence of innocence, his cock fully pulled out of his pants as he rubs it furiously, eyes locked on the two of you.
“Stop,” Viktor only says.
Jayce groans in frantic frustration, slowing his rhythm but incapable of removing his hand. He's harder than you've ever seen him, his tip almost a painful red.
“No, no, c'mon V, don't do this. Please keep going,” he begs, looking at you with pitiful eyes, pleading silently. You want to touch him, to let him touch himself. But you know it's not your decision; it's Viktor's. And he's made his ruling, so you're not about to get on your research director's bad side again.
The head engineer offers a proud smile at your lack of answer to Jayce, the kind he usually reserves for reports submitted in advance or ingenious schematics. You recognize him more like this, strict, but never unappreciative of your efforts. He never forgets to slip a word of encouragement when you're stuck, never hesitates to reread your notes with you when the math isn't quite adding up. The cold anger seems to have fully passed, and now only the teasing, taunting satisfaction remains.
“I believe you may have forgotten that as per her contract, she is my assistant. Meaning she is under my direct command.”
He's looking at Jayce now, whose hand is still wrapped around his length, but unmoving. His cock is twitching in his grasp, desperate as the rest of him. His whole body shifts to the rhythm of his respiration, large shoulders slumped in defeat. Viktor doesn't turn to you when he asks you the following question, choosing instead to stare deeply into Jayce's citrine eyes.
“Is that not correct?”
You don't hesitate with your answer this time.
“Yes sir.”
His focus is still on the other man, but he strokes your cheek again with his left hand. He rests his weight comfortably on his crutch, like he doesn't have a single worry in the world in this moment.
“Good girl.”
You feel yourself tighten at that. That voice could tell you to find a way to harness the power of the goddamn stars before figuring out the hexcore, and you would comply.
“Jayce, could you bring the chair over here? The larger one.”
Viktor points with his chin towards a wooden chair with a flat backing, in a corner of the lab. Jayce looks back and forth between the chair and his partner, like he's unsure if he's joking or testing him. When no additional directions come from Viktor, he sighs in discomfort, clearly disgruntled, unceremoniously shoving himself back in his pants to go fetch the chair. The thinner man hums in appreciation when he brings it back and places it next to him.
“Thank you, Jayce.”
He sits, using his crutch for balance as he shifts slightly to find a comfortable position. His hand leaves the burgundy handgrip, instead settling on the metallic upper section. He looks like the king of a forgotten kingdom, resting on his wooden throne, sceptre in hand. You and Jayce, his obedient consorts, can't do anything but await his next command.
It comes in the form of a simple motion of his hand, beckoning you closer. You only stop when your legs bump against his, standing above him. His fingers caress the fabric of your skirt studyingly, like he's committing the feel to memory. They eventually catch on the waistband, tugging it questioningly. His golden eyes look up at you, the colour of the sunrise etched in his pupils. You nod earnestly in approval, and he lowers the skirt down until it reaches your knees, letting it fall to the floor. You're suddenly very thankful you dressed up this morning knowing you would see Jayce.
The design is simple, a line of flowery lace hugging your hips, and curving to the shape of your ass. It's the kind of thing Jayce loves; he'll even make you keep your panties on sometimes as he fucks you, just pushing the bottom of the fabric to the side to fit himself inside you. It's the lace he can’t resist, you think, the way it barely covers anything and rests against your skin like a present for him to unwrap.
It doesn’t seem to have the same effect on Viktor, but you can tell he’s still appreciative, cold hand sneaking under the lace to squeeze a cheek firmly.
“This is fucking torture,” Jayce groans in complaint, standing still just barely a few feet away. He's obviously aware he's not supposed to interfere with the two of you, or to touch himself for relief, but the glistening sweat on his forehead and down the prominent vein on his neck indicates how difficult this is for him.
“And you should know better than to have sex next to a table covered in explosive materials and one-of-a-kind prototypes,” Viktor retorts, sparing him a slightly displeased glance. “What if you had broken something irreplaceable?”
Jayce seems genuinely embarrassed by that; he may not show it as often these days with how busy he is, but you know he still cares about the academy's research and the state of hextech.
“I'm sorry Viktor. I wasn't thinking…”
“I am aware you were not thinking. And that is exactly the issue. You forget how much of our profession relies on thinking, not talking.”
It's crystal clear that's going to be the end of the conversation, for now. Viktor's fingers slide to your hip, following the shape of the panties until your inner thigh. A small tap with a single digit tells him everything he needs to know.
“Look at this,” he smiles, taunting but affectionate, “Already so wet just from a kiss. Or was it the sound of my voice that did it, I wonder.”
Both, it's both, and every single thing that has happened in this lab since he entered it. You tremble when his finger moves slowly against the damp fabric, not quite oversensitive, but a little on edge.
“I, um-” Jayce hesitantly speaks up from the side. “I fingered her a bit earlier. I… think she should be alright?”
This time, Viktor doesn't reprimand him for talking; he seems surprisingly pleased, eyes boring into yours for confirmation.
“Is that so?” he exhales softly.
You nod breathlessly. Why is it always so difficult to talk when he's studying you like this?
The teasing finger slips under the fabric, gently making its way into you. You let out an involuntary sound of eagerness as he verifies if you've been loosened up, analyzing you with the precision of a machine. He removes the digit with a crooked grin when he judges you've passed, and you whine at the loss; it was barely anything in the first place, but it soothed the feeling of total emptiness in your core.
“Color me impressed,” Viktor declares, half genuine, half mocking. “I do not think I have ever seen Jayce do his work in advance.”
Said man groans in defeated complaint:
“You're turning her against me.”
Viktor lets out a wry snort:
“You do that well enough on your own. You touched her without even making her cum?”
He pats your pussy comfortingly, and you almost sing to the feeling. Your panties get lowered swiftly, and you discard them with little decorum. Viktor's assertive expression has softened enough that you feel emboldened enough to try to join in the banter:
“Jayce thinks foreplay is watching him get undressed. He's not exactly an expert.”
Viktor laughs at that, a charming and genuine sound, and you feel yourself glow with pride. The topic of mockery doesn't seem as pleased, his cheeks red, his lips thin:
“See? Told you. You've already worked your fucking magic on her.”
Viktor starts unbuttoning his pants, the teasing smile still etched on his angular features. His fingers work nimbly, swiftly, with the precision only the best engineer in Runeterra could muster in such circumstances.
“It is not magic, Jayce. Simply talent and practice.”
He does quick work of lowering his pants, just enough to expose his underwear. The confirmation that he is indeed not as unbothered as he still may seem is poking through the fabric. Judging by the defined outline and the sizeable tent, you can instantly confirm a hypothesis you've had since the start of your internship: the Assistant to the Dean of the Academy is packing.
He's not unaware of it either; his golden eyes follow the movement of your own, playfully examining your reaction. It's different from Jayce's endearing ego and constant need for praise; Viktor knows his worth, but he revels in the admiration, the stares filled with awe and devotion.
If Jayce needs to feel worthy, then Viktor needs to feel wanted.
He finally frees his cock from the restrive fabric, letting the member bob slightly. He's not even fully hard, and he's huge, the length imposing, the bulbous tip a pleasant shade of pink. The skin is as pale as the rest of him, blueish veins marking it like porcelain; only a few well-trimmed auburn curls at the base remind you he's not sculpted from actual marble.
Jayce lets out a low, tentatively playful whistle as the other man’s slender fingers wrap around the shaft.
“Flattery will not get you far, Jayce,” Viktor comments absentmindedly. “You and I both know this is nothing you have not seen before.”
He moves his hand in an open, loose fist, evidently without any real intent to finish himself off; not with the way he's made you stand right above him, not with how he's looking right at you. You swallow with difficulty, licking your lips for moisture. The energy between the two of you is tangible, electric, as he keeps working himself tantalizingly slow.
“Darling. Sweet thing. Do you want this?”
You nod vigorously, the words stuck in your throat again.
“Tell me, then. Please. Tell me how much you want this,” he requests, and it's hard to tell whether that's an order or a plea with the way his voice lowers, just barely louder than a whisper.
You feel like you're high, your mind a jumbled mess of adrenaline and lust. There are no sentences that could possibly express how he's got you under his spell. How many times have you imagined a scene like this, in only a year of being his assistant? The stolen glances, the passing touches, you had no reason to believe they were anything more than figments of your lustful imagination. The very idea that he could be the one doubting your interest in him is laughable, and yet his gaze is probing you for a response, his lips parted with bated breath.
“I want this. I want you,” you swear to him, staring back so deeply into the amber irises there could not be a single question left. “Please, sir.”
You bring a hand to the crook of his neck; the coolness of the skin under your palm, the sharpness of his collarbone against your fingertips, the beating of his heart below your thumb. He has to know this is real.
Viktor smiles slightly, the little mole above his lips shifting alongside his dimples.
“I would ask you to be weary of my right leg, then. It is not quite as strong as it used to be, although that is not saying much.”
You've never seen the emotion that crosses Viktor's face in that moment, gone in under a second. It's so subtle one might have missed it; bitterness, regret, defeat. The tragedy of a man brilliant enough to change the whole world, but who wouldn't live long enough to see it. If Janna truly watches over the lost children of Zaun, then she is turning a blind eye to the brightest of them all.
You could say something, try and comfort him, but you choose not to. There's nothing that can be said to change things; there’s only the present, and there are only actions.
You sink down on him slowly, the both of you moaning in unison. You can't help the array of whines escaping your pinched lips. The heat from where your bodies meet is overwhelming, the stretch delightful and filling. He's not fully inside you and you're already wondering how much more you can take. It's dizzying, the pain making you grit your teeth, but you persist, fingers clenching on the back of the chair. When you've fully bottomed out, you let out a shaky breath you hadn't realized you were holding. Viktor soothingly pats your back, and you hang on to him for dear life, wrapping both arms around his back.
“Are you alright?” he whispers softly, worry evident in his voice. You want to answer, but you're quite certain if you open your mouth you'll only get confused gibberish out, because fuck, he's filling you so much it's hard to even think. You shift your grip to his shoulder blades, trying to anchor yourself, absentmindedly noticing the cool feeling of metal under his uniform. You trace the intricate patterns with your fingers to ground yourself, recognizing the shapes of bolts and screws, as you feel your breathing slowly even out
“I’m ok,” you eventually manage to exhale. “I just- need a second“
Viktor makes an understanding hum, his hand caressing the valley of your back like you're doing with his, his strokes mellow. He moves his head slightly to look at Jayce behind you, throwing him an irritated glare.
“So much for your preparations,” he points out with irony.
Without needing to see him, you know exactly the kind of disgruntled face Jayce is making: “She only needs three to fit me, you're just stupid big.”
“I can move,” you interrupt them, the pain now only a vague tingle; all that remains is the yearning for him.
You place both hands on the back of the chair to balance your weight, being careful of Viktor's weaker leg. You bring yourself up slowly, tantalizingly, before letting yourself fall back on his length. There's no other way to describe the broken moan you release than dirty.
“Eh,” Viktor remarks slyly, groaning when you start moving again. “S-she does not seem to think it’s stupid.”
You fuck yourself on him with abandon, fast, rough, not caring of how debauched you may look. If anything, Jayce seems very appreciative if his moans and curses are any indication.
“Fuck, baby,” he pants somewhere behind you, too far to feel his warmth, but close enough to hear he's pumping himself to the same rhythm you're riding Viktor. “You're doing such a good job taking him, princess…”
He's truly begging when he calls the other man's name again, delirious from the unending edging:
“V, please, make her turn to my side, I have to see her face.”
Viktor's hooded eyes bare into yours, his raspy pants echoing through your head as you thrust up and down his length.
“Do you think he is truly sorry, now?” he asks, the ever-teasing glimmer in his pupils shining despite the clear physical effort from his body.
You can't even remember what Jayce has to be sorry for; you whimper a positive ‘huh-uh’. Viktor nuzzles his head in the crook of your neck for a moment, gently bitting the sweaty skin in a surprising hint of possessiveness, but he does finally agree to free Jayce of his torture.
“I will trust your good judgment. You can come here, Jayce.”
You yelp in surprise when two strong but familiar hands suddenly grab you at the waist and turn you around, almost pulling you off Viktor's cock and into a messy kiss. The slight tickle of Jayce's stubble is pleasantly itchy, his tongue desperately searching for more of your taste. You moan wantonly against his mouth when you feel Viktor twitch inside you, but the man under you doesn't seem fully pleased: a thinner but firm hand brings you back against his chest, and he throws Jayce an irritated glare.
“I give you an inch and you take a mile. Typical,” the older man accuses him with a bitter tone, his accent more pronounced, rigid. “You do not get to touch, and you are only allowed to cum on her.”
His lips come to your ear in the ghost of a kiss, velvety smooth:
“Would that be agreeable to you, sweet thing?”
You just know you want to keep going, really; so you do exactly that as a reply.
This position is harder for movement, since without the support of the chair’s back, you would have to rely on putting pressure on Viktor's knees. Thankfully, with Jayce’s proximity, you can use his muscled chest for balance. He certainly doesn't mind being used like this if the expression he’s wearing is any sign: his entire face is crimson, his eyes heavy, laboured breaths escaping his abused lips. He's still following your pace, pumping up and down every time your ass meets Viktor's hip bones. It has to be painful by now, with the way he's been rubbing himself raw for so long without release, but he's either too entranced to care or getting off the burning friction
“So obedient,” Viktor praises you, his free hand moving to your lower stomach, long fingers digging gently into your skin; you wonder if he’s trying to feel himself move inside you. “We might still be able to make a top student out of you. What do you think, Jayce?”
Much like yourself, Jayce seems beyond the capacity for words. He's looking at you like he wants to devour you, like he wants to take you off Viktor's lap and fuck you right on the floor. But you both know he wouldn't do that without Viktor's approval, at the risk of getting on the other man’s bad side again.
Viktor's cock hits a peculiarly sensitive spot inside you and you cry out from the sudden shock, loling out your tongue involuntarily. Jayc makes a strangled sound at the sight, and it visibly takes all his self-control to not shove himself into the warmth of your throat.
“For once, I cannot get you to talk when I actually want you to,” Viktor tsks in disapproval, but it's clear he's not frustrated; rather, he seems to enjoy the trance-like silence Jayce has been reduced to.
“F-fuck, I think this is the hottest thing I've ever seen,” the younger man sputters, delirious, his fist moving with a frenzied pace. “I can see your cock in and out of her every time she bounces like that. Her tits look so good…”
You recognize that slight pitch in his voice, the rumbling in his throat; he's close again.
“What else?” Viktor hums, not letting him have a moment of respite. You can hear ragged gasps next to your ear, parts of heaved curses indicating he too is nearing his end, but he's still firmly insistent on being the one in control of it all.
Jayce whines in struggle, but it's hard to hear with how loud the sound of your own moans echo in the room. You've been using Viktor's cock to hit that one spot over and over, chasing your high without restraint, the familiar clenching of your walls maddening.
“She looks all fucked out. Like she -fuck- like she's so close to cumming around you…”
The other man seems pleased by that if the way you feel him twitch inside you is evidence. “Good observations,” he replies in playful irony. “Perhaps there is still a scientist in there.”
The hand on your stomach leaves its comfortable position to wrap around your neck, the pressure light, just barely restricting airflow.
“Sweet thing,” he calls out to you once more. “You can pick up the pace a little. I want you to never look away from Mr Talis's eyes.”
It's a hard request to fulfill considering how badly you want to squint your eyes shut in the agonizing pleasure; but you try your very best, unshed tears of exhaustion starting to pool and blurying your vision.
The sight of you so desperately trying to obey Viktor's order to focus on nothing but him is what finally undoes Jayce, who lets out one final loud curse:
“Shit-!”
He cums all over your academy blouse with a shout, little droplets reaching as high as your chin. It barely takes three more thrusts against Viktor for you to join him, crying tears of relief as an intense wave of bliss rocks your entire body. With your limbs reduced to nothing but putty, your head falls forward in exhaustion, thankfully stopped by Jayce's strong torso; the fabric of his dress shirt feels like satin against your face, burying your sobs.
Viktor takes a moment longer to reach his peak, fucking into your exhausted body with concentration, thick eyebrows furrowed. It's too much, too rough, and you throw your head back to whine against his neck pitifully. He mutters something unintelligible under his breath before he finally unloads into you with a long groan.
“Shh, good girl,” he compliments you soothingly as his warmth settles into your core, kissing your neck leisurely in praise. “You have done so well.”
He bends your head back slightly more to catch your mouth in an open-mouth kiss, slow and tired, sloppy from your mutual exhaustion. Jayce groans, his hand somehow still on his softened cock, pumping it lazily; his stamina is utterly unbelievable.
“Okay, actually, this might be the hottest thing I've ever seen,” he comments hoarsely, absorbing the way your tongue dances with Viktor's with every inch of his capacities.
Viktor concludes the wet kiss with a small peck on your lips, smiling as your head falls back on his shoulder in fatigue, your eyes shut close.
“Because you managed to get yourself all over her?” he throws back at Jayce, as calm and confident as if he hadn't just made you go through the most intense orgasm of your life. “Your ego will never cease to impress me.”
The stars behind your eyelids are still spinning; you weakly try to move an arm, finding it almost completely unresponsive.
“Sir?” you ask, and you almost don't recognize your voice with how rough and broken it resonates in the empty lab.
“I think we have reached the point where you are allowed to call me by my name in private,” Viktor amusedly hums close to you.
“Viktor, I…”
You want to open your eyes, to look into his golden eyes again and see the way he looks right after sex, but they're sealed shut from how worn out you are. “…I don't think I can move right away.”
That earns you a content chuckle from one man and a disbelieving laugh from the other.
“Jayce,” Viktor asks, now with a tone of request rather than command, “be a gentleman for once and carry her to her bedroom. The poor thing is exhausted.”
Jayce snorts, for once tonight the one hitting back with irony:
“And whose fault is that?”
Viktor’s fingers, still loosely wrapped around your throat as lightly as feathers, slide down to massage the tender muscles at the base of your nape. You moan brokenly into the touch. You couldn't move even if you wanted to.
“Undeniably yours. I am not the one sneaking around in the academy for nefarious purposes,” Viktor retorts playfully, tiredness noticeable but skillfully hidden in his voice. “But if you were to have a bad idea like this once more… I believe I can offer you my services as her supervisor. For both your sakes.”
#CAN I GET A YEEHAW#this was so much fun to write ashgfff#arcane#viktor arcane#jayce talis#viktor x reader#viktor x reader x jayce#jayce x reader#arcane smut#viktor smut#jayce smut#jayce x viktor#happy birthday viktor
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Everyone is totally free to have their own opinions!
But I do think everything is a bit more complex than what it's usually made out to be. I know It's not explicitly said here but the underlying conclusion of this thread is essentially "fuck veganism.” Which your opinions are totally valid! Feel free to think and feel whatever you want, feel free to ignore everything I’m about to say. I'm just some random person. I have no impact on what you think, feel or do. Scroll past this now if you want, and if you do I genuinely from the bottom of my heart, hope you have a great day!
But here's my dumb take…
I think we all frequently do this thing where we regurgitate talking points like "PETA BAD" and "LEATHER GOOD" that simplify nuanced subjects and end up pushing the narrative that animal products are inherently more natural and more sustainable than any alternatives, and therefore we shouldn’t even try to create alternatives. Maybe I sound like a fucking nut job, and I guess that's fine, but I really feel like a lot of these talking points originate from the industries that actively profit from us buying into them. Kind of like how the Bacon Mania in the early 2000s (that created fucking bacon flavored lube) was started by Pork industry marketing executives. (1)
There is so much rampant greenwashing going on. Advertising is a massive fucking industry all on it’s own. These companies pay a ton of fucking money to lie to you and to get you to buy their products. I’m just gonna quickly address Wool, Leather, and Bees and the massive amounts of greenwashing that happens for those industries:
Wool: “Animals raised for clothing, like the more than 1.2 billion sheep farmed for wool, or the tens of millions of cows whose skin is processed into leather. Both species, as ruminants, emit massive volumes of methane (the potent greenhouse gas that is responsible for about a quarter of global warming) and take up vast land areas that could otherwise host native, carbon-sequestering ecosystems.” (2)
Leather: Animal leather's emissions are still higher than synthetic leather and if your not getting vegetable tanned leather, there are still harsh chemicals like chromium that is used in the tanning process of animal leather, which is harmful not only to the environment but also to tannery workers, which if your getting your leather from Bangladesh, might also involve some child labor as well. (3) There are also vegan alternatives to leather that aren't plastic and are fully biodegradable unlike chemical tanned leathers, which again due to the tanning process is for the most part not biodegradable.(4) LEAD researchers also found that the global livestock industry uses dwindling supplies of freshwater, destroys forests and grasslands, and causes soil erosion, while pollution and the runoff of fertilizer and animal waste create dead zones in coastal areas and smother coral reefs. There also is concern over increased antibiotic resistance, since livestock accounts for 50 percent of antibiotic use globally, according to LEAD. (5)
Bees i.e. Honey: While yes agave isn’t good for the environment monocrops in general aren’t, Honey isn’t inherently better for the environment than some of the other alternatives that exist. The Honey industry definitely is not better for native bee populations. Honey bees are one of the only domesticated livestock that can roam freely and end up outcompeting the native bee populations. On top of that habitat loss and deforestation a lot of the time caused by industrial agricultural is one of the leading causes for the decline in native bee populations. (6)
Regarding PETA: I'm not going to sit here and defend PETA, I don't care about PETA but on veganism, the idea that PETA claims to stand for, I'll put in my two cents.
The current definition of veganism is:
"Veganism is a philosophy and way of living which seeks to exclude—as far as is possible and practicable—all forms of exploitation of, and cruelty to, animals for food, clothing or any other purpose; and by extension, promotes the development and use of animal-free alternatives for the benefit of animals, humans and the environment."
Veganism is a super easy target to strawman and to overgeneralize. It's an imperfect movement that rightly has a lot of things that it can be criticized for, and it should be! Thing's don't get better otherwise! But veganism's core belief of anti-exploitation is something that I think is a good thing actually! and It’s just so wild to me that, for the most part, everyone thinks they’re punching up when dogging on vegans and their beliefs and that veganism is some rich white American hipster shit instead of a radical way of thinking and looking at the world that dates all the way back to the fucking Indus Valley civilization. The majority of people in the world aren’t vegan. Currently vegans only make up 1% of the global population, the highest populations of vegans being in India. The US is not the center of the universe. I think it's honestly sad when otherwise totally radical people buy into the dominant colonial ways of thinking and repeat all these talking points and ideas.
Back to the subject of environmentalism though, 50% of global deforestation is caused by animal agriculture. It is just point blank, not sustainable. To not engage with these subjects critically is an active disservice to ourselves and our own interests! It lets these monstrous industries, that are literally eating our planet alive, get away with killing us for profit. The worst industry for the environment is of course fossil fuels, but the second worst industry is agriculture and then the third worst is fashion. The agricultural industry and the fashion industry are absolutely horrendous for the environment, animals, the people that work within it as well as for the planet. It’s not just “an industry with problems that can be made sustainable and more humane.”
Big Vegan™ is not the enemy, it's all these rich ass companies that pay billions to make everything as intentionally confusing, and as hard to understand as possible and they do everything they can to keep us from seeing how things are made and their impact. These corporations do not give af about us, they want us to not care as much as they don't care, so we keep buying their products. We’re all so fucking tired and too busy in our own lives trying survive. Its hard enough to eat sometimes let alone parse through everything you own or buy and make sure things are 100 percent ethical, but we can at least try to do our best and do what we can to try and reduce harm in the world, and to support each other.
If you want handy guides for ethical shopping, check out Ethical Consumer. It's UK based so it won't have brands from all over but a lot of their info and guides are in general really helpful. Here’s an article they did on sustainable fabrics and another on how to help pollinators:
https://www.ethicalconsumer.org/fashion-clothing/choosing-most-sustainable-fabric
https://www.ethicalconsumer.org/food-drink/how-help-bees-pollinators
Shop local if you can, buy second hand items, try to reduce the amount of animal products you use and consume if you are emotionally, medically, or financially able, or donate to causes that make a difference. Every little bit counts.
Sources (1) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v4pqRx7OB-Y (2) https://www.vox.com/future-perfect/24008053/wool-marketing-environment-sustainable-claims-sheep-animal-cruelty-fast-fashion (3)https://www.dol.gov/sites/dolgov/files/ilab/child_labor_reports/tda2023/2024-tvpra-list-of-goods.pdf https://www.ids.ac.uk/news/new-study-uncovers-the-scale-of-child-labour-in-bangladeshs-leather-industry/ https://www.pbs.org/newshour/world/bangladesh-leather-factories-child-labor-pollution (4) https://www.ethicalconsumer.org/fashion-clothing/footwear-leather-synthetics (5) https://woods.stanford.edu/news/meats-environmental-impact#:~:text=LEAD%20researchers%20also%20found%20that,use%20globally%2C%20according%20to%20LEAD. (6) https://www.vox.com/down-to-earth/2023/1/19/23552518/honey-bees-native-bees-decline Recommendations: Check out Aoetora liberation league They’re a really cool anti-colonial vegan Māori activist group: https://www.all.org.nz/supportus https://www.instagram.com/aotearoaliberationleague/?hl=en https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fRpWq-KbX6E Other cool orgs: https://foodispower.org/our-work/ https://www.blackvegansrock.com/ Books to check out: Aphro-ism: Essays on Pop Culture, Feminism, and Black Veganism from Two Sisters by Aph and Syl Ko Racism as Zoological Witchcraft: A Guide to Getting Out by Aph Ko Beasts of Burden: Animal and Disability Liberation by Sunaura Taylor Vegan Entanglements: Dismantling Racial and Carceral Capitalism by Z. Zane McNeill (editor)
Ayoo just to preempt the inevitable dumb takes we’re about to start seeing;
I am PRO-WOOL
I am PRO-LEATHER
I am PRO-BEES
Fuck the idea of replacing durable, sustainable animal products with cheap, flimsy plastic that doesn’t bio-degrade. Agave nectar and other artificial sweeteners are expensive, labor-intensive, and destroy the environment to be farmed.
Do not buy into pernicious marketing campaigns pushed by dickhead organizations trying to stay relevant, like PETA.
#Sorry not DC related hope you don't hate me!#It might come as a surprise but me a person who runs what is basically a poison ivy fan page cares about the environment#Back to comics after this though I'm probably not going to ever post something like this again#To the OPs sorry if this is coming across aggressive or rude#I'm really not trying to be I just really disagree with your takes#your probably both really lovely people#Veganism#enviromentalism#unpopular opinion#probably a really unpopular opinion#TLDR#I got lazy with some of the sources but those sources lead to other sources sorry for the essay lmao
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Hot Massage
"P-Please... S... S... Stop..." Jeremy tried to plead desperately, but his numb lips and face made it incredibly hard.
"Shhh... Don't speak. You'll only waste your energy." I shushed the handsome hunk that laid beneath me. Opening another bottle, I poured out the clear serum and massaged it into his firm chest. It quickly began heating up and his skin soften slightly.
"W-Why....." He asked. I could tell he was trying desperately to make his large muscles move, but unfortunately all it did was twitch his fingers.
"Why? I don't know, Jeremy... Maybe it's because of all those years back in high school that you bullied me and completely ruined my reputation and any chances of me getting into a good college, or maybe it's because of the 'accident' you caused which burned half of my face off... What do you think?" There was definitely a hint of anger within my voice, but I quickly calmed down and continued massaging his warm pliable chest.
"...I-I'm s-sorry...." He really meant it this time. Unlike all those other times he said it in front of his peers. But it didn't matter anymore.
"A bit too late for that, Jeremy... Even if I have forgiven you for all those years back then, the serum has already reached its full effect. There's really no going back now." I smothered my hands against his rippling skin and felt how they slowly began sinking into him. Into his flesh.
"...no...ah..." He gasped, as he felt me invade his very flesh. My elbows disappeared as I got closer and closer to his anguished numb face.
"Don't worry, you won't feel a thing. Once I push my head inside and overlap my brain onto yours, you'll never have a thought of your own again. From now on I'll control your every movement, your every breath, and your every heartbeat. It'll be my rugged hands running across these perfect pecs, my juicy ass squeezing dildos deeper inside, and my handsome scar-free face hungrily licking up all the residue from the bathroom mirror."
I gave his glazed-over eyes one last look and pushed my lips against his soft ones, before I plunged my entire head inside his. His fingers clenched together and he began gasping for air, as I moved around inside him and positioned myself correctly. As soon as I settled down my mind suddenly exploded with all of Jeremy's memories, dreams, and aspirations. I felt them embrace me and flow into me, until I felt myself own them as if they had always been mine.
I opened my new eyes just in time to see the last of the rippling effect on my new large chest settle down. As it did, I felt a torrent of unbridled cum unleash itself underneath the warm blanket.
It was done. Jeremy had taken everything from me back then; my life, my reputation, my future, my face... Now, I've taken it all back; the successful life, the promising future, and even the perfect face. This was a brand new start for me, the new Jeremy...
Happy New Year everyone! Thought I'd pop by and let you all know that I'm still around. I haven't been feeling very inspired lately, and with a lot of things going on in life I haven't really taken the time to properly write. Still, I thought I'd give you all a treat with this older draft I made a while back. Hope you all enjoy it, and perhaps you'll hear more from me this new year! /Verus <3
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For @mysterious-messages, to 'Bless the child' by Nightwish
DPxDC Long Time No See
The crow was incredibly persistent. Which, of course, made it ten times more annoying in John's opinion, because he was trying very, very hard not to pay attention to the pitch-black bird with blood red eyes that was perched right outside the window.
Can't he have one single night where no impossibly powerful force of nature interrupts his attempt to drown himself in liquor? Honestly.
The crow knocks on the window again. Three perfectly timed knocks; this bloody bird sure knows how to draw attention, but it also definitely knows Constantine is avoiding it. Which is why it's insisting on making itself a nuisance, no doubt.
To be fair, John is not even entirely sure who's crow is it. Morpheus has a crow at his disposal, but his crow is a bitch. He wouldn't have simply sat on the windowsill and enjoyed annoying Constantine for the sheer spite of it. Death has her crows as well - very thematic, if you ask John - and then there was that one asshole raven that claimed itself belonging to Apollo.
And then, of course, there was-
Actually, maybe he should see what the crow wants. Might be important, after all.
Constantine sighs and puts his whiskey back on the bar before standing up. The world tilts to the side a bit - he might have had a few too many drinks, yeah. But then maybe it's just the side effect of the messenger crow being here, who knows. Constantine would rather put his money on the latter for the sake of his dignity. Not that he has much of that left.
He makes his way to the window, looks at the crow for a long moment, making his last internal debate obvious, and then opens the window.
"The hell do you want?" He asks, but quickly realises it was in vain.
He is not at the bar anymore.
Instead, he is standing in the middle of a graveyard, surrounded by tombstones, fog, and eerie silence. 4/10 on the creepy effect, John has definitely seen this shit done better.
The cloaked figure sitting on the nearest tombstone stays silent, watching him with unblinking, blood red eyes. John sighs again, pinches the bridge of his nose, and reaches into the pocket of his trenchcoat for cigarettes. If he ended up out of the bar anyway, he might as well use it for a smoke break.
"I'd rather you not," the cloaked being says, not a demand but a request by the sound of it. Constantine grimaces, but puts the pack back in the pocket. Arguing with this one will get him exactly nowhere.
"What's this all about, then?" He vaguely gestures around himself, at all the death, decay, and other things that start with the letter 'D'. "I never knew you're into this kind of thing. Very Mary Shelley of you," he raises an eyebrow.
The being - the Dead God, the Ghost of Time, Clockwork, Chronos, and any other name he likes calling himself - huffs a deep, low and breathy laugh. Then, he stands up, his feet firmly planted on the ground for once. He looks different to how John is used to seeing him, all sharp edges and monochrome colors, shiny leather oxfords and loose sleeves with tight cuffs.
Honestly, he kind of reminds Constantine of vampires. He really hopes this is not actually some kind of a new kink of his because John so didn't count on that kind of night. Despite what he's said before.
"No," Chronos shakes his head, his appearance shifting from young to middle-aged. Constantine blinks; if there's anything he learned about the Dead God through their various get-togethers, it's that his age usually reflects his level of seriousness.
But he doesn't have time to ask, nor does he get a moment to prepare, when a child, a literal goddamn child no older than ten steps out from behind Clockwork.
It looks like a boy, dressed in jeans and a blue hoodie with a NASA logo on it, and- He does look like Clockwork. Same pale skin, same eerie, unblinking eyes, same unearthly air around him.
Only, his eyes are a faint blue, like ice and winter skies. Like Constantine's eyes.
The unholy fuck. And he means it literally.
"Is that-" he starts, his throat suddenly dry, pointing his finger at the boy before he even thinks about it, but the Ghost of Time laughs again, a dirty grin on his lips.
"Yours? No, thank the Ancients," he says, making sure to sound just a tad bit offended even if John can see the mirth on his face. Bloody wanker. Constantine lets out a slow, loud breath through his nose.
"Amen to that," he agrees and looks at the kid again. And, as soon as the initial shock wears off, a sneaking suspicion starts to form in his mind. He narrows his eyes. "I don't want to ask, I really don't, but I'm going to anyway. Why?"
Clockwork's face looks distant for a moment, his features shifting into old.
"A child blessed by time has no home in his own life. A child blessed by death has no place among others," he says, and John hates when they speak in riddles, but he thinks he might be getting this one right. "I am only loved when I'm gone, the moments being held dear in memory. But a child does not deserve that," Clockwork's voice sounds almost sad, and, while John does understand it's supposed to be a metaphor, it doesn't feel like one.
But then, he is the Time itself. Maybe for him it's not really a metaphor.
He looks back to the kid, and catches the boy looking away with a grimace. Seems like they have at least one thing in common - they both hold a great distaste to Cronos' solemn way of talking.
Constantine is so going to regret this, but he knows where the Dead God is leading.
"Yeah, okay," he rubs his face with one hand, and, before he has time to ask or say another word, the whole graveyard is gone, and he is standing back in the bar, the low murmur of nightly crowd and warm light around him. Just like before he opened the window to the blood-eyed crow.
The only difference between then and now is the kid standing by his side, looking at him like John is the stupidest man he'd ever seen. Oh, he is already regretting this.
Constantine drops his hand down and goes back to the bar, where he left his drink.
"Want a beer?" He asks, and the kid rolls his eyes, trailing after him.
"I'm twelve," he deadpans, and, yeah, okay, he's got a point.
Fuck it, he is calling in a favor from Bats. That man has, like, twenty kids, he should have some parenting advice.
~•~•~•~
Yeah, the song really reminded me of Clockwork for some reason. Why am I loved only when I'm gone? is really stricking me as a line written for him because you only cherish the time after it's gone, you smile at your memories and pictures, but you rarely ever pay attention to it in the moment.
Also, I did my best with the Gothic aesthetic there, and here's the additional vibe.
Clockwork, just dropping a random ass kid on his occasional one night stand and vanishing into the night, knowing that John Constantine has a soft spot for kids and won't just fuck off to who knows where: it's for the greater good the better timeline
Danny, left alone with a clearly too drunk to think magician whose soul looks like a jigsaw puzzle: the fuck it's not
#danny phantom#dpxdc#dc x dp#clockwork#john constantine#surprise children acquisition#trickster style#gothic#eh i tried#cork prompts#cork game
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first time with wonwoo where the reader is unexperienced please?
I hope you enjoy anonnnnn keep requesting :D
Wonwoo looks down at you with a mixture of tenderness and desire, his eyes dark with need.
"Are you sure you're ready for this, baby?" he asks softly, his hand gently caressing your cheek. "I don't want to rush you if you're not comfortable."
You nod, your heart pounding in your chest as you look up at him.
"I'm sure," you say, your voice barely above a whisper. "I want this. I want you."
Wonwoo smiles at your words, his eyes crinkling at the corners.
"I want you too," he murmurs, his hand sliding down to rest on your hip. "I promise I'll take care of you, baby."
He leans down to capture your lips in a gentle kiss, his mouth moving against yours with a tenderness that takes your breath away.
As he kisses you, he slowly begins to position himself between your legs, his body settling over yours. You can feel the heat of his skin against yours, the hardness of his cock pressing against your entrance. Wonwoo breaks the kiss, pulling back to look down at you with a serious expression.
"If it hurts, or if you want me to stop, just say the word," he says, his voice firm but gentle. "I don't want to hurt you, okay?"
You nod again, feeling a flutter of nervousness in your stomach. Wonwoo notices your hesitation and reaches down to intertwine his fingers with yours, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze.
"I'm right here with you, baby," he murmurs, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on the back of your hand. "Just relax and trust me."
He slowly starts to push inside you, his eyes locked on yours as he watches for any signs of discomfort. You can feel the stretch as he enters you, a slight burning sensation that quickly fades away as your body adjusts to him. Wonwoo lets out a low groan, his jaw clenched as he fights to control himself.
"You're so tight," he grits out, his voice strained. "Fuck, you feel amazing."
Wonwoo notices your uncertainty and stills his movements, giving you a moment to adjust to the feeling of him inside you. He leans down to kiss you again, his lips moving softly against yours as he whispers words of encouragement.
"You're doing so well, baby," he murmurs, his free hand tracing gentle patterns along your side. "Just relax and let me take care of you."
He starts to move again, his hips rocking slowly against yours as he sets a gentle pace. You gasp at the sensation, your body arching up against him as he fills you completely. Wonwoo lets out a shuddering breath, his forehead resting against yours as he tries to maintain control.
"God, you feel so good," he whispers, his voice thick with pleasure. "You're so perfect, baby. Taking me so well."
Wonwoo picks up the pace slightly, his thrusts becoming more confident as he gauges your reactions. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, his hot breaths fanning across your skin as he continues to move inside you.
"You're mine," he growls, his teeth grazing over your collarbone. "All mine."
You can feel the heat building in your core, pleasure sparking through your body with each snap of his hips. Wonwoo can sense that you're getting close again, and he adjusts his angle slightly to hit that spot inside you that makes you see stars.
"That's it, baby," he murmurs, his voice rough with need. "Let me make you feel good. Cum for me again."
"Wonwoo," you gasp, your hands clutching at his shoulders as he continues to thrust into you. "I-I'm close. I'm gonna-"
Wonwoo cuts you off with a searing kiss, his tongue plunging into your mouth as he drives himself deeper inside you.
"Come on, baby," he urges, his voice a low growl against your lips. "Let go for me. Cum for Daddy."
You cry out as your orgasm crashes over you, your body trembling with the force of it. Wonwoo watches you intently, his eyes dark with satisfaction as he feels you clench around him. He keeps moving, prolonging your pleasure as he chases his own release.
"That's it," he grunts, his thrusts becoming more erratic. "Such a good girl, cumming for me like that."
As your orgasm fades, Wonwoo's movements become more desperate, his body tense with the need to find his own release. He buries his face in your neck again, his hot breaths coming in ragged gasps as he pounds into you.
"I'm close," he growls, his hips snapping against yours with a bruising force. "I'm gonna cum, baby."
With a final, rough thrust, Wonwoo buries himself deep inside you and cums with a low, guttural moan. You can feel the warmth of his release as he fills you up, his body shuddering against yours as he rides out his orgasm. He collapses on top of you, his chest heaving as he tries to catch his breath.
"Fuck," he pants, his face buried in your shoulder. "That was incredible."
You lie there together for a few moments, both of you panting and spent from the intensity of your lovemaking. Wonwoo finally lifts his head to look at you, a satisfied smile on his face.
"Are you okay, baby?" he asks, his voice soft as he brushes a strand of hair away from your forehead. "I didn't hurt you, did I?"
"I'm more than okay," you reply, a tired smile on your face. "That was... amazing."
Wonwoo grins, his chest swelling with pride at your words.
"I'm glad you enjoyed it," he says, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead. "You were perfect, babygirl."
#kpop fanfic#kpop smut#seventeen fanfic#seventeen smut#seventeen#svt smut#svt wonu#seventeen wonu#svt wonwoo#wonwoo smut#seventeen wonwoo#jeon wonwoo#wonu#wonwoo
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hii! could you write one with kinda emo aou wanda, with i hate everyone but you vibes, dating reader who’s more popular than wanda? just their cute little moments together
because of you (request)
wanda maximoff x fem!reader
summary: in which wanda was initially the prickly new member of the avengers, however you quickly became her greatest friend.
word count: 1416
tags: unedited, fluff, wanda's got a huge crush on you, a little bit of i hate everyone but you vibes but i've never really written it before so i hope i did you justice!! emo wanda being the little baby we all love (this is also like my sorta first time writing emo wanda too so my writing horizons expanded quite a bit with this request, she's genuinely just very cute though
“You have to be cheating,” Sam says angrily, slumping on the couch and crossing his arms over his chest, slamming his controller down beside him.
“Nope,” you respond with a grin, pleased with yourself for beating Sam at yet another video game. “You just suck.”
Sam narrows his eyes, before rising up once again in determination. “One more round, only this time you’re handicapped by giving me a five second head start.”
“Sure,” you agree, already prepared to win for the 15th time in a row.
However, before you and Sam can start your video game, a tired Sokovian witch makes her way into the living room.
“Oh, hey, Wanda,” Sam says to your girlfriend who stands beside you, immediately wrapping her arms around your shoulder.
Wanda ignores him, and instead asks you, “Where were you?” against your neck.
“I promised Sam I would play Mario Kart with him last night,” you explain. “I bet him 50 bucks I could win 10 rounds in a row, and guess what, I’m at 70 now!”
“Not for long!” Sam interrupts.
“Want to stay and watch?” you ask Wanda, who hesitates for a split second, not really wanting the company of anyone else except for you, but ends up agreeing with a small nod.
You shift over on the couch to make room for her, and she immediately sits down and rests her head on your shoulder while you begin another round against Sam.
You end up winning about 150 bucks that day.
***
Wanda had been part of the team for about 7 months now, and you had quickly become her closest friend in the first 2.
Wanda, at her most vulnerable and lowest moments was still riding on a lot of the guilt from Ultron, add the fact that she had just lost her only family member and best friend, and the fact that she was already a bit prickly to begin with, it was safe to say that the majority of the team was too scared of what could happen to them if they even attempted to get close to her.
Wanda was okay with that at the time, she wanted the freedom to grieve without the added pressure of someone counting on her.
However, you were an exception.
You broke down the walls that had been built so far up after lost plagued Wanda’s life.
Every time she would protest, you stayed, no matter what.
She was a mess, and over time you became her safe haven.
You helped her grieve, helped her overcome her anger, her sadness, and you became her hope.
Now, Wanda could never get enough of you.
You were her best friend, and she was yours.
Wanda was eternally grateful for your existence.
“Y/N?” Wanda asked, one month into your friendship you laying on her shoulder watching the sitcom on the TV from her bed.
“Hm?” you responded.
“Thank you,” Wanda said, hoping you could understand every single hidden word she wanted to convey as best she could.
You smiled up at her, “Anytime.”
***
“Wow, Wanda, what’s got you so grumpy?” Tony asks, noticing Wanda’s very apparent frown.
“She hasn’t seen Y/N in two days,” Nat says with a grin. “Y/N’s mission from Monday got extended last night, so now she won’t be back until tomorrow morning.”
Wanda glared at Natasha before going back to pouring her cereal.
“Come on, Nat,” Steve says as he walks in. “I think it’s sweet.”
“Hey, I never said it wasn’t,” Natasha says, holding up her hands in surrender.
Wanda’s frown deepened, despite the truthfulness to everything they were saying.
“Come on, Wanda,” Steve said as he came around the counter to pat the witch on her back. “Just one more day.”
Wanda nodded quietly, making her way back to her bedroom to eat her cereal and wait for your return.
***
You came back at 6AM, and your face softened as you saw Wanda laying on top of your covers, very clearly having been waiting for your return by the sitcom still running on your TV in the background.
Carefully you kneeled beside her on the bed, gently shaking her awake.
Wanda stirred awake slowly, looking around disoriented before she saw your face, her eyes lighting up and immediately wrapping her arms around you. “You’re back,” she whispered.
“I was only gone 3 days,” you reply in amusement.
“Don’t care,” Wanda says, hugging you tighter.
You hug her back in return, letting go after a few minutes to go take a shower and change into your pajamas, and Wanda doing the same.
Then, at 6:30AM, the two of you go to bed together, and spend the rest of the day wrapped in each other’s arms.
***
“So, what is it you want my help with?” Natasha asks, secretly gleeful at seeing the shy side of Wanda for once behind all her sharp edges.
“I want you to help me set up Y/N’s birthday party,” Wanda says shyly, looking down at her shoes.
“Oh, Wanda, we’re gonna have a blast,” Natasha replies, walking over to Wanda and wrapping an arm around her shoulder, leading her to go grab the supplies.
***
Wanda would never admit it, except maybe to you, but she wanted everything to be absolutely perfect for your birthday.
You had been the only one to help her when she needed it, and every time she felt like she was too sharp, too mean, too prickly, you accepted her with unwavering kindness.
You were the only thing that made Wanda feel seen after Pietro’s death.
And so, she needed you to see how grateful she was with everything inside of her.
“Okay, so we’re gonna get balloons, streamers, the food and drinks, cutlery, decorations, then the cake tomorrow?” Wanda asks Natasha as the two grab everything for your birthday tomorrow.
“Yep, Tony’s money is finally going towards something useful,” Natasha says, making Wanda look over towards her curiously. “Your love for your girlfriend,” she explains.
Wanda slaps Nat’s arm in return, though she does end up blushing for the next 5 minutes.
***
“Oh, god, what if she doesn’t like it?” Wanda asks, nervous since it’s only one hour before you’re supposed to arrive back at the compound.
Natasha pats Wanda on the back reassuringly. “It’s gonna be fine, Wanda. Truthfully it came from you, and she loves anything you do for her no matter what.”
Wanda nods, nervously playing with her rings in anticipation.
“Can she hurry back already,” Sam groans. “I wanna eat the cake already. Wanda glares angrily at him.
“Careful, Sam,” Nat warns playfully. “If you mess that cake up a single bit Wanda might magic you into a pickled herring.”
Sam looks over to Wanda who’s eyes glow red in a threatening manner.
Sam holds up his arms in surrender.
Wanda ends up switching between being nervous and stopping Sam, Bucky, and Tony from accidentally doing something that might harm your party, and suddenly an hour has gone by.
“Y/N’s on her way back right now!” Tony calls out after asking FRIDAY. “She’s gonna be up here in two minutes!”
“Okay, everyone hide!” Natasha yells out, grabbing Wanda to hide with her behind the counter as everyone sprawls out across the upstairs floor.
“Please say she likes it, please say she likes it,” Wanda mutters under her breath in her hiding place so no one can hear her.
Though Nat’s absurdly good hearing foils her plan. “She’ll love it, Wanda.”
Wanda hums in response, taking a reassuring breath before waiting to surprise you.
“Thirty seconds everyone!” Tony calls out after FRIDAY notifies him on his watch.
3…2…1…
“Happy birthday, Y/N!” Everyone calls out after you finally make your way up the stairs.
You barely register the shock before you’re smiling widely.
“This was all Wanda,” Nat tells you, causing you to look towards the witch who looks incredibly sheepish.
“Everyone helped,” Wanda mumbles.
“Really?” you shake your head before making your way over to your girlfriend and kissing her fiercely. “Thank you,” you whisper.
“I needed a way to show you how grateful I am that you saved me,” Wanda tells you.
“Well, you saved me too,” you reply. “You made everything so much better.”
Wanda’s eyes light up at your confession, and she hugs you tightly, causing you to laugh and wrap your arms around her.
“Now, how about we enjoy my birthday together, hm? This will be the best one yet because of you.”
#wanda maximoff x reader#wanda x reader#wanda maximoff#wanda maximoff angst#wanda maximoff fanfiction#wandamaximoff#wanda maximoff fluff#marvel mcu#mcu#wanda x you#wanda x y/n#wanda marvel#anon#answered asks#wandascosmic answers
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Emerald Eyes pt.2 (Law, Sabo, Kid, Katakuri)
Pairings: Law x Reader; Sabo x Reader; Kid x Reader; Katakuri x Reader Summary: How he acts when he is jealous Warnings: Some Angst, Fluff, Female Reader A/N: (Requested by @cartoonykatbird) I hope you enjoy :) [One Piece Masterlist] [Part 1: Luffy, Sanji, Zoro, Ace] _____
- Law -
Law had been looking for you for a while now but when he finally finds you, you were grinning at the pages of a somewhat familiar book in your hands. He was confused, but slightly amused nonetheless as he observes you from the doorway where you are yet to notice his presence.
"[y/n]-ya?"
"Law!"
You say, and though startled you quickly shake out of it. You curse yourself as you know you have been caught grinning like an idiot looking at your favourite character from the book, or rather manga, you had recently become immersed in. Nevertheless, you stand to greet your boyfriend in the doorway with a smile on your face.
"What were you reading?"
He asks when you approach, and you have to fight to keep the flush off your face. "Nothing..." You murmur, unconvincingly even to yourself, as your words dwindle towards the end. "[y/n]-ya?" You look up to your boyfriend who raises his eyebrows to you, an unusual look on his face.
"It's not about that guy, Levi Ackerman, again is it?"
You roll your eyes as you watch the way the amusement in his eyes starts to subside into distaste. You almost have to stifle a laugh at how quickly his mood has changed when he realises you are reading the Attack on Titan manga once more. You had shown him earlier but for 'some reason', he had become irritated by the way you had gushed about your favourite character.
"Maybe..." You murmur. Law lets out a dramatic sigh at that, and he tries to pry the manga from your hands. "[y/n]-ya," he says when you move and step away so he doesn't get it. You start to giggle and run away from his shadowed face, making a run for the bed as you smile at him teasingly.
"No, you can't take this away from me!"
Law's eyebrows twitch as he watches you become distracted in the pages again; you need to finish the manga quickly before he pries it from your hands. He is filled with a feeling he knows to be jealousy and curses the way you have him so wrapped around your finger he can't even handle you fawning over a fictional character.
"Room!"
"Law! Don't you dare-"
But it's too late, soon what's in your hands is a plate from the kitchen rather than the manga you had been trying to finish. "Law!" You exclaim putting the dish to the side and crossing your arms in mock irritation. Your boyfriend, however, is now satisfied that your attention is off the fictional character you seem to adore and back on him.
He makes his way to your side and forces you to look at him, as a hand guides your pouting face to his. "I don't know why you're so obsessed with him anyway." He mumbles, you roll your eyes, feeling some of your annoyance relent at the pettiness your boyfriend holds over such an inconsequential matter.
"Hmm, he's mysterious, dark, handsome, strong..." You say as you look up to him and his sharp eyes teasingly. He leans in dangerously close as he observes your suggestive stare, a smirk starts to linger on his face as he leans in closer to you. "Sounds like someone else I know, [y/n]-ya..." You grin as he inches closer. "Yeah?"
"Yes, but as an added bonus, I'm tall too."
- Sabo -
Sabo knows of your friendship with his brother and as much as he absolutely adores how close the two of you are, he can't help but feel slightly neglected. He observes as the two of you converse rapidly, your energy and personalities a seeming match from heaven as you both keep yourselves entertained in the other's presence.
It was only supposed to be a short stop-by before the two of you made yourselves back to headquarters, but what was supposed to be an hour ended up being half the day. Sabo didn't mind initially, happy to see that his brother and his crew were doing well, but as he observes the chemistry you share with Luffy, he hates that he has to fight the envy that wants to fill his senses.
He didn't know what he was so jealous of. Was it you who formed such a deep connection with his brother so easily? Or was it his brother who seemed to gather your attention and laughter like it was nothing? When he hears your angelic laughter fill his ears, he figures it is the latter that wins.
You absolutely adored Luffy, having heard an abundance of stories about him from your boyfriend and time passed so easily. You both ate and fished and laughed and shared your experiences together and you honestly couldn't remember a time spent with more fun. It is only when you check the time and see how far it has gone into the afternoon, that you realise that you and your boyfriend need to get going.
Everyone gathers to say their goodbyes, and Luffy gives you an extra long hug, a wide smile adorning his face. "Shi, shi, shi. Bye [y/n]!" You return his hug with as much enthusiasm as he does. "Bye Lu!!" And soon, you are headed back with your boyfriend.
You noticed that Sabo had been acting weirdly when you found yourself rambling to him about the times you spent with his brother and he had not replied for a while. You observe the crease between his brow, as though concentrating hard on his thoughts, and the frown on his face had done nothing to waver.
Your own concern brims as you look at his uncharacteristic manner, and so you reach out and hold one of his hands in yours. "Hey, are you alright?" Sabo seems to break free from his thoughts momentarily and he looks at your gaze hesitantly and with a tint of shame in his eyes, but you could not fathom why.
"It's just-" He stops, almost scolding himself for getting worked up over something so stupid. You look at him questioningly and urge him on silently, and he sighs before continuing his words.
"Do you enjoy my company?"
You freeze, a little surprised by the question that slips his lips, so much so you let out an airy laugh. However, when you see the way Sabo's concern doesn't fade, you reply to him earnestly with a smile on your face. "Of course, Sabo. I'm dating you for a reason you know?" Sabo nods, some of his insecurity and envy fading away, but then he asks the question that had been gnawing at him most.
"But do you enjoy my company more than Luffy's?"
That is when you are truly shocked. You raise your eyebrows in utter surprise, but you also see the way your boyfriend has thought long about this and it has been eating away at the security he usually had in your relationship. You squeeze his hand lightly when he goes to turn away, and he keeps his wandering gaze on you.
"Sabo, I absolutely adore your brother. He's fun and energetic, and I love getting to know him because I feel like I'm getting to know someone important to you too. But Sabo, I love you. No one could compare to you."
When your boyfriend looks at you next it is like all his worry has diminished and his stupidity gone as quickly as your words had reassured him. "So would you stop being so jealous, of your brother?" You ask, rolling your eyes at his antics. Sabo smiles shyly, breaking free from whatever thoughts had clouded his mind earlier.
"Sorry love, I guess I just needed the reassurance." He captures your lips before the two of you approach port, and you can feel his growing smile against you. "That's okay love, everyone needs that sometimes." Sabo's grin is as warm as the setting sun as he looks down at you. You, so perfect and kind and devoted to him.
"I love you."
- Kid -
The last thing you would ever expect when wandering the streets with Eustass Kid is for someone to hit on you. Because though you are known to be able to handle yourself, you could not fathom which poor soul would be willing to undergo his utter wrath.
So, when someone does hit on you, it is usually in his absence, and he usually does not learn of it after you deal with it because you don't want unnecessary murder. You figure now was another one of those times when a young, handsome man spoke to you as though you would reciprocate his obvious advances.
The only reason you let him talk to you in the first place was to receive free drinks at the bar where you awaited your boyfriend. You were a pirate first after all - more specifically a Kid Pirate - you couldn't deny a man who so willingly offered something free of charge.
"Here you are love," the man had handed you a drink quicker than you could accept or decline, but of course you accept. Balancing the drink in your hold you smile politely and boldly. "Thank you," you say to him but his grin quickly diminishes when you go to turn away.
"Woah, woah, wait a minute. Don't you kinda owe me something?"
You force down a grimace when the man reaches out a hand to you and makes you face him, his stench reeking of the alcohol in his system. "Excuse me?" You ask, impatience brimming in you. You, after all, were dating Eustass Kid, and your anger and bravery often matched his own. "You passed me the drink willingly, I never said anything about paying you back for that."
The man starts to frown but his eyes ignite with a spark you know all too well. He liked a challenge, and you were a very attractive challenge to him right now. "Now let me tell you something, sweetheart-"
The man in front of you is about to say something, but that is when the air of the bar you were in becomes suddenly cold. The other patrons around you go silent as they notice a looming figure enter, his sharp eyes pointed directly at you. It is for good reason, however, as it is Eustass Kid and members of his crew that saunter in.
"Oh, hey babe!"
You exclaim, a smile on your face, but it does nothing to diminish the spark Kid feels in his chest. The man's hand was still on your face, and it fell limply to his side as he turned to you and then back at Kid. "W-Wait, he's your boyfriend?" He stammers out, shock and fear clear in his senses. "Captain and boyfriend, actually," you say. Satisfied that you are finally free of the man's touch, and finally receiving the respect you deserve.
When Kid finally approaches you, he is filled with a sudden envy that clouds his system and he does not know how to rid of it except with his anger. How dare another man touch your skin so carelessly? Just who does he think he is? Kid instantly steps in front of you, your words filling the air as he does.
"Oh, this is uh, I actually forgot his name, but he got me a drink see. Maybe let him down a bit easy babe-"
Kid growls under his breath at your words, as he stares intimidatingly at the man who looks like he's about to pass out right then and there. "Is that right?" The man's eyes are now wide as saucers but it does nothing to spare him as Kid summons a variety of metals and all of a sudden he is flung from the bar out the window.
The moment of silence only lingers for a second longer before those around you return to their respective conversations and keep their heads low to not attract the attention of your boyfriend. You, however, behold none of the fear they do and roll your eyes at him. "I had it under control, you know?" You say as you look up to his burning red eyes. A half-smirk enlightens his face as he leans down to capture your lips.
"I know doll, but no one gets to touch you like that."
- Katakuri -
Katakuri absolutely adored you. You were kind, compassionate, strong, caring, loving; everything he could ever want in a partner. Even those of the Charlotte Family and Big Mom Crew knew of your appealing qualities and grew fond of you. You just seemed to get along with everyone and your strength in battle made you respected even by Big Mom herself.
Almost everyone knew of your courtship with Katakuri, the two of you had grown up together and everyone had approved of your relationship. Scarcely anyone would come between the two of you, both because they knew of your loyalty and also because of their fear of what Katakuri would do if he found out.
However, the newcomer of Big Mom's crew just didn't seem to get the memo.
You, to Katakuri's displeasure, had the job of showing him around and telling him how everything worked on Whole Cake Island. It had taken from him much of the time the two of you would usually spend together, and he would be lying to say he did not miss you.
One day he had been observing, as usual, the events and occurrences that take place on Whole Cake Island, but his attention had been taken away by his favourite sound in the world: Your voice. Except it was directed at the man you had been showing around, and suddenly instead of the usual way in which he observed, he fought the urge to go down to you and bring you to his side instead.
"And that's it," you say looking to the man you had been showing around for just longer than a week now. "I think you'll get the hang of things pretty quickly. Just stay out of trouble."
You smile politely and go to leave, glad that your job is finally over as you can see Katakuri again. You had missed him. The newbie was okay, to say the least, but he was also young and you hoped his ego wouldn't get him under Big Mom's radar.
"Wait, where are you going in a hurry?"
You turn surprised to see that the man has placed a strong hand on your arm, looking at you with a wide smirk on his face. You force yourself not to frown at his boldness.
"I thought we had a good thing going." He speaks to you with a suggestive tint to his words. "Excuse me?" He grins further as though he thought you were just playing hard to get. "Come on, you spent all that time with me, I know you want something from me."
You roll your eyes at his words. "It was my job, and I'm sorry to burst your bubble, but I already have a boyfriend." He bites back a laugh as he meets your stern gaze on his. "Oh come on, who's-"
"She's with me."
You look up surprised to see your boyfriend approaching you, but his eyes are trained on where the man still holds your skin. The man, though seemingly oblivious, seems to get the hint and releases you of his hold.
"You? You can't be serious-"
"Do I look like I'm joking?"
There is a deep silence as Katakuri pries you into his side and looks to the newcomer purposefully, a dangerous look lingering in his eyes. The man finally reads the air and bolts. Who wouldn't in the face of one of Big Mom's strongest Commanders?
In his prompt absence, he turns to you, a gentle hand underneath your face as he looks at you gently. "Are you okay, love?" You smile warmly as you lean into his touch and hum. "You know I had that all under control right?" Katakuri's eyes seem to spark at the reminder, but his fond gaze remains as he looks down at you.
"I know, I just wanted to remind him who you truly belong to."
#x reader#reader insert#fem reader#fanfic#fanfiction#trafalgar law x reader#law x reader#law one piece#law x y/n#law x you#sabo x reader#sabo one piece#sabo the revolutionary#sabo op#revolutionary sabo#sabo#one piece sabo#sabo x y/n#sabo x you#eustass kid x reader#kid pirates#kid x reader#kid x you#eustass captain kidd#eustass kid#eustass x you#eustasscaptainkid#eustass x reader#one piece eustass#one piece
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PLEASE PLEASE i begg youu siren(y/n) x werewolf smut, where the wolf bf is in rutt
A Sirens Call
Hello! Thank you for the request! I'm sorry I somehow missed the part about the werewolf being readers boyfriend until I already finished it so I accidentally left that out. Still, I hope you enjoy!
Pairing: Werewolf X Siren(hybrid) Reader
Warnings: Sex, Creampie, Knotting, Oral (Fem Receiving), Stomach Buldge, Size Kink
While you look primarily human thanks to your father, your mother had passed on her alluring voice. Human men have always been weak-willed when it comes to the song of a siren. Being a hybrid meant you, too, could lure men with just the sound of your voice.
It was almost pathetic watching men fall for you so quickly. To see the spark in their eyes, a vision of having your body all to themselves before it was ripped away as you flash them your razor-sharp fangs. One look at the deadliness you possess would have them running. Sometimes, if you were bored, you would start singing again, watching as they became entranced and made their way back to you, only to repeat the process over and over until you grew bored again.
Today was like many others. You found yourself lying by the wide river, perched on a rock, and bored out of your mind. Your grin widened as you heard someone moving through the forest in the distance—finally, a human to entertain you on this dull summer day.
As you begin your siren’s song and hear the man make his way toward you, your body buzzes with excitement. Toying with him should give you at least a few hours of entertainment if you try to make it stretch.
As he stomps out onto the river bank and from behind the trees, your song falters, and you see it is not a human man. Instead, a large werewolf stands about fifteen feet from you. He is easily over ten feet tall and made of muscle. His shoulders are double yours, and his biceps look thicker than your thighs. His dark gray fur and bright yellow eyes only add to his intimidating appearance.
As he moved closer, you stopped your song and flashed him your teeth, waiting for him to turn away as all the men do. Instead, he gave you a wide grin, flashing his own sharp teeth as he looked your body up and down. His advances started again, and you almost turned to make a run for it when your eyes caught on the reddish-pink flesh sticking out from between his massive thighs.
His cock bobbed up and down with each step, hanging heavy. The tip is even redder than the shaft, with veins running along the long length. The thinnest part under the tip must have been thicker than your wrist, and the knot forming at the base was already larger than your fist.
Your mind screamed to turn and run, but your body stayed locked in its spot, your cunt getting wet at the sight. He reaches you quickly, towering over your body before lowering himself down and shredding your simple dress with his long claws. He pushed you back on the rock with ease before licking his long tongue up your wet slit. He lets out a growl before burying his snout in your pussy and fucking his large tongue inside you.
The moans you let out are even more alluring to the werewolf than your songs as he thrusts his cock into the air, precum dripping down his length as he devours your tiny pussy.
Your juices gush from your hole as you cry out in pleasure. He seems to dream you ready for his cock as he moves up your body, lining his cock up with your dripping hole and thrusting in his tip.
You grab onto the fur of his chest, which hovers above your head, back arching as he thrusts more and more of his massive cock into your wet heat. With one hard thrust down, he fills you completely, and you scream out at the stretch. He gives you no time to adjust as he begins fucking you with hard thrusts.
His knot slams against your entrance, and your clit gets smacked on each stroke. The werewolf groans and growls as your cunt clenches and sucks him in. He lowers his body slightly, and his fur starts rubbing slightly against your sensitive peaked nipples, only adding to all the stimulation you feel.
He lifts up slightly as he speeds up his thrust more, and you glance down, moaning at the sight. The tip of his cock bulges your belly on each stroke, his cock glistening with a mixture of your juices and his precum. Your pussy begins clenching down, and your nails dig into his chest as you gush around his massive cock.
He lets out a loud growl, and you cum around him, putting the majority of his weight on his hips until his knot manages to push inside your pussy. You scream as he locks inside you, overcome with another orgasm before the first even ends. Your insides are pumped full of his hot seed, filling your womb and stretching your lower stomach.
Your legs shake slightly as you both come down, the werewolf holding his weight above you so you don’t get crushed to death. It takes several minutes for his knot to go down, and he finally pulls out with a wet pop. The mixture of your arousal and his cum pouring out of your gaping and twitching cunt.
You slowly turn onto your hands and knees, legs shaking as you begin crawling out from beneath the massive male. Though he doesn’t let you get far before he growls and shoves his still-hard cock back into your cunt from behind, using his own body to press your chest to the rock, ass raised high to receive his brutal thrusts.
As your body begins nearing its third orgasm in such a short amount of time, you can’t help but realize that you won’t be bored the rest of the day because this werewolf is definitely in rut.
#monster x reader#monster boyfriend#monster husband#teratophillia#monster smut#monster x human#monster fudger#monster fucker#monster lover#monster fuqqer#monster#monster x monster#werewolf romance#werewolf husband#werewolf smut#werewolf#werewolf x reader#werewolves#werewolf imagine#werewolf x hybrid#werewolf x female#siren#siren reader#siren smut#siren imagine#terat0philliac#terato#monster x you#monster x female
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*𝑨𝒓𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒅*
Pairing: Vamp!Bangchan x Vamp!Reader (Fem)
Genre: Smut
Warnings: Blood/Biting/Blood Drinking (Duh), Slight Mention of cheating/K!lling, Arranged Marriage, people Watching the deed, Oral (Both), Choking, Hair Pulling, Squirting, Multiple Rounds/Orgasms. Sorry for any mistakes or missing warnings! (I’m sure I missed a few this time)
A/N: I hope you guys enjoy this cause I had so much fun doing this. This scratched an itch for me fr.
-🧛🏻
He was irritating. The “prince” you had been married off to. He was so full of himself not to mention feared by many. However you saw right through him. You saw the little things that made him crumble. His biggest weakness? You. He wouldn’t admit it but you drove him crazy.
Remembering when he accidentally walked into the bathroom after you had showered. You were completely naked quickly covering yourself up when he had come in. His jaw was on the floor, he stood there for a good minute or two before you yelled at him to get out. He quickly did, running to another bathroom to quickly help himself. He leaned back on the bathroom wall cock in hand as you ran through his mind. The best nut he had, had in a long time.
Both of you being vampires meant you’ve been alive for a while. Although with that being said you’ve never really dated much. You had your fun of course but most of them were quickly made into meals afterwards. Sucking them dry in more ways than one. Chan on the other hand got around a lot. Especially the first hundred years. However he found himself in love for the first time. A beautiful girl who he met at a coffee shop. He didn’t expect to fall in love but he did. He did hard.
Sadly he found the love of his life tangled in bed their own bed one faithful night shattering his heart. The girl told him “you were fun but I have an eternity to live, why would I spend it with one person?” He was broken. He spent days by himself locked away hating the world. Going out at night to feed, he fed even when he wasn’t hungry. The sadness washing away to be replaced with anger. He killed not even wanting to feed, killing to kill.
A decade down the line he was finally getting better. He got his spark back but he never wanted to be in love again. Only going for hookups if he had the need. When the court had come forward asking him to get married he was fully against it. After chipping away at him over the years he finally said yes.
Chan was cold towards you at first, wanting to keep a distance which you were honestly fine with. The whole arranged marriage thing wasn’t something you wanted either however it was best for your own “coven”. It helped spread the boards of your own hunting grounds and broadened the masses together.
The house you were sharing now was massive. Plenty of places to go to be alone but somehow you both found yourself in each other company. You gradually started talking more. Figuring out what you both needed for the members of your covens. Talking about the wedding plans as well.
—
Today was the day of the wedding, it went off well. As you walked down to Chan you noticed him almost getting choked up. He was looking at you in a different way, a way you haven’t seen.
He stuttered over his words as you said your “vows”. His eyes not being able to look anywhere else but you. You swear you could see little hearts in his eyes.
After all the festivities the elders of the coven had come to talk to you both. “It’s time to christen the marriage” they said.
“What does that mean?” You asked.
Chans eyes went wide at their words “there’s no fucking way.” He said.
You looked at him still confused. “What does it mean?” You asked again.
“It means these sickos want to watch us fuck” he said bluntly.
“What??” You asked.
“It’s tradition Chan, if you do not do it the marriage is null” the elder said sternly.
“And why didn’t you tell us about this before” he bit back.
“We thought you knew” the elder shrugged “come to the house over there, we will be waiting” the elder said before walking away.
“You’re fucking kidding me” Chan groaned.
“Do we have to?” You asked.
“Yeah- I guess so?” He said in a huff. “I’m sorry” he sighed.
“Well, why don’t we give them a good show?” You said with a smirk.
You both headed to the house, the room was covered in flower peddles. The bed made up nicely with silky red sheets. You strolled in taking Chans hand “let’s give them a show they’ll only be able to dream of” you said with a chuckle.
Chan made his way to you, before you pulled him into a heated kiss. The first kiss you had shared. It was messy, teeth clashing against one another’s. Tongues colliding with one another. Chans hand glided up your dress pulling your panties down your legs. His hands were a bit shakey as he felt your soft skin against his.
You grinned yourself against his leg letting yourself go. You moaned into the kiss hands coming up to take his shirt off. “Fuck y/n” he groaned out his hands dipping between your legs only to be greeted with how wet you were. Something in him snapped, he couldn’t hold back anymore. He quickly moved himself back pulling your body at the edge of the bed before diving into your cunt like a starved animal. His tongue darted against your clit, hands keeping your legs spread.
He lapped at your folds taking in your sweet taste, your hands clung to his hair back arching off the bed. “Ah- f-fuck!” You moaned out. You tugged on his hair harshly grinding your dripping cunt into his plush lips.
“Mm, fuck- use my tongue my pretty wife” he moaned out. The name making your cunt clench. “Are you all liking the show? Like watching my pretty wife get off on me?” Chan yelled knowing the elders were watching from the glass.
Chans hand moved from your leg, pushing his long fingers into your cunt. He curled them ever so slightly hitting your sweet spots. He had your body shaking, close to orgasm. He moved his mouth from your dripping cunt, lips swollen. He kissed up your thigh before sinking his teeth into it. The slight pain only bringing you pleasure, your body felt like it was levitating. Arching off the bed once more before cumming hard around his fingers. He lapped at the blood only to come back to your cunt to mix the two. His new favorite taste.
He looked up at you with glazed over eyes before coming up to you kissing you messily again. He slipped his pants off stroking his cock slowly. “Chan- need you- fuck please” you whined. He chuckled “whatever my princess wants she’ll get” he slowly pushed his cock into you. Stretching you out so nicely, like he was made for you.
“Sh-shit” he moaned out. He couldn’t stop himself from moving. Your warm cunt sucking him in. His thrusts were slow but deep, Hitting your cervix perfectly. He leaned his body down biting down on your neck before sucking harshly at the spot. When he pulled away he latched his lips back to yours pushing the blood into your mouth. Both of your lips now stained red as his movement became faster.
Drinking from others was one thing but drinking from your partner especially during sex was almost like taking an aphrodisiac. It made you both go crazy. Chan brought his hand up gripping at your throat grinning from ear to ear. “Fuck- I love you y/n. I’ve waited so long for this” he groaned.
“I love you too!” You cried out. His grip around your neck tightened as he felt your cunt clench around him. “Gonna cum? Cum on my cock- fuck- make a mess-“ he said before speeding up his thrusts. Your high quickly crushed over you cumming hard around him. He let out an almost growl before pulling out. He spun you around putting you on your hands and knees.
He moved himself in-front of you pressing the tip of his cock to your lips. Before he let you take him in he bit his wrist. Dripping blood down on his cock. You groaned watching him before taking his cock into your mouth. You twirled your tongue around his shaft licking him clean of the blood and your slick. His hands rested at your head before pushing back your throat. “Ah- fuck- just like that beautiful you’re taking me so well- isn’t she? You old bastards still watching?” He said with a chuckle.
He gripped your hair pulling you fully down his cock, his head pushing as far as it could go. He pulled away watching the string of saliva keeping you tied together.
He moved himself behind you once more and with out warning this time pushed fully into you. “Fuck- fuck-“ he said under his breath. His full balls smacking against you as he bottomed out. His cock head kissing your cervix ever so perfectly. He was fucking into like he hated you. Thrusts were deep and harsh. He gripped your head with one of his hands before pushing it down into the bed. “Gonna take all my cum? Gonna let me fill you full for all these fuckers to watch?” He growled.
“Yes! Chan- fuck please! Breed me- cum inside me please” you begged.
“That’s my beautiful wife” he said with a smirk. He moved from your head hands locked on your hips as his nails dug into your soft flesh.
He thrusted in a few more times before pushing in as far as possible. His hot cum painting your walls white as his nails dug into deeper making you bleed. He leaned his body down as his balls emptied into you biting your shoulder. His sharp teeth piercing your skin for the third time as he claimed you as his. Your high was quick to crash over you once more, the bite pushing you further making you squirt all over the silky sheets.
You both panted trying to catch your breathes. Chan pulled you to him holding you against his chest. “You all have 10 seconds to leave. You got what you wanted now let me have my time with my wife” he snarled.” The elders rushed out not wanting the wrath that they knew Chan would bring.
He held you as close as possible rubbing your back as he peppered it with kisses. “You know” he said softly. “I’ve always been afraid to let myself fall in love again” he said trailing off. “But- I can’t help it.. I love you.. I really mean it when I say that I love you y/n”
“I’ll never do what that awful woman did to you. You’re stuck with me now you know? Can’t get rid of me anymore” you teased.
He squeezed you tightly “I couldn’t imagine that, you’re stuck with me too” he said with a chuckle kissing your back softly. “Let’s go get cleaned up yeah? Then we can get some food” he said sweetly.
﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌
💙 If you’d like to read more of my stuff you can find it Here: Master List . Thank you for reading and if requests are open or you just wanna talk feel free to send me something🩵
Taglist: @satosugu4l @do-you-remember-summer-127 @xines16 @minh0scat @troublemaker02 @tr-mha-fan @lunearta @velvetmoonlght @minghaosimp @ldysmfrst @felixleftchickennugget
#stray kids#skz#stray kids scenarios#skz scenarios#bangchan#bangchan scenario#stray kids x reader#stray kids smut#stray kids drabble#stray kids fanfic#bangchan x reader#bangchan smut#bangchan fanfic#bangchan drabble#kpop smut#kpop drabbles#changbin#han jisung#seungmin#hyunjin#jeongin#Lee know#Lee Felix
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Begging you for more Caracalla fanfiction pretty please?? Literally no one writes for him ??
I’m so ashamed but can you write Caracalla and fem reader who starts her period, how he’d help her through any pain or discomfort? Also disgustingly good period sex to get rid of cramps if this isn’t too weird?
I just started at work and have no products with me so we die like men in Rome, free bleeding 🩸
Blessed if you do, blessed if you don’t 🙏🏼 ty xx
Bleeding free for love
Emperor Caracalla x wife!reader
warning : +18, smut, hurt/comfort, tiny emotional, kissing, body worship, blood play, period sex, family problems
Summary : When the sun was in the sky at midday, it was the aches and pains that afflicted the goddess of Rome, hot and cold baths hardly seemed to help and hardly any food was right. When her husband has a certain idea to take away her pain and they both could get closer to each other.
info : So finally dear i have finished it i wish you a lot of fun reading and hope you have survived your period well. I had a lot of fun writing this everytime again and wish you lots of fun ;)
masterlist
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Blood had many uses for rituals, animal blood for eating, for painting, blood was something that gave life and could take life it was the most valuable thing known to man because without it you died.
One thing the soldiers in the battles knew as soon as they saw the blood of their opponents they had won, the midwives saw the blood of the mother as a life was born and a dead man would bleed as his head was cut off.
A thing that everyone knew, every child, every man and especially every woman who felt the blood on a day of the month followed by pain and upset.
A natural process that could lead to life according to certain doctors or midwives to whom one went to have herbs and tinctures mixed against the pain, but as death would haunt everyone, so would pain haunt every woman of Rome.
A pain that also commanded the empress in a moment of adversity, from the moment she woke up she had felt on the edge of Olympus.
She loved her husband and her brother-in-law but her smile wanted to smile less and less, everything seemed to interfere and nothing worked her mood was completely controlled by the gods a thing that only disturbed her even more.
At breakfast, her appetite didn't seem to be for anything except for a delicious sweet fruit or honey glazed nuts, but nothing else seemed to appeal to her either, ,,I'm sure it won't be anything bad" she had told Caracalla, who was already giving her a worried look, normally the three of them tasted their way through the whole breakfast and were not so reserved.
At midday in the palace garden she was only in the shade, the sun seemed far too strong, although even Geta and Caracalla were in the sun, ,,Just leave me" she had said more cheekily than necessary when they both wanted to pull her to the table for a game and she had retreated with her servant.
But above all, her stomach pains didn't stop, pains that she feared were something worse and she wanted to turn to a healer after the senate meeting...but the answer came to her with a knowing sigh.
She rose from her seat in the senate to help her brother-in-law's argument, knowing that Caracalla was not fully present in his current state when she felt the first drop and she cursed inwardly.
,,I commend myself, something has come up" she only hastily said to Geta and gave Caracalla a brief smile as she tried to get away from the gazing eyes as quickly as possible.
But while Geta tried to reassure the senate that all was well, it was Caracalla in particular who seemed to snap out of it and looked anxiously after his wife.
Gods must you make me bleed now? she asked the saints and at least the answer was only why her abdomen hurt and why her mood was so different, she had bled once more.
A bleeding that made her go straight to the bathhouse where she washed herself because of course it didn't stop at a drop, she sometimes felt as if she were an animal bleeding to death in its last moments.
It stung and pinched so much, no wine or food seemed to help and the water always seemed too cold, ,,Warm it up once more" she ordered her tone again harsher than she wanted and the servants informed the slaves.
The bath water warmed up again after a few minutes and she sighed as the pain disappeared, at least for a moment, as she tried to concentrate on the rose petals and the scent of avender that came through the flowers floating around her.
A scent that at least helped her with a headache did some good, at least the gods were a little merciful to her because the rest of the day she would be bleeding in her room.
Her feelings were as numerous as the gods and she probably didn't take pleasure in anything, just lying in bed perhaps listening to music to distract her from the pain.
Whatever it was she was going to do it was all better than being around people, she had kept the dinner with Caracalla and Geta as short as possible, ,,I will find a way to take away your pain that is my duty as your husband" her heart tried to cheer her up and gave her a quick kiss.
A kiss that actually made her smile for a moment, it seemed that no matter what situation or how much pain she was in Caracalla always found a way to make her smile, one of the things she appreciated so much about him.
He liked to fight with himself, the madness taking him over more and more from time to time but for her he always tried, ,,And I will accept this as your wife" she replied and gave him a kiss too as Geta only had a pleased look for the two of them, glad that his family didn't stop at madness and blood.
After dinner, everyone retired to their rooms to rest, the day had been exhausting enough and she just wanted to try to sleep, a sleep that was not granted to her, but minutes turned into almost hours in which she turned from left to right and knew that as long as she continued to be stabbed in her abdomen, she would find no rest.
Until the moment she heard a knock on her door and smiled, ,,Are the gods not letting you sleep either?" she heard her husband ask and saw that Caracalla had a small tablet with some things on it.
Sitting up in her bed, she tapped the fur next to her, ,,The honourable ones seem to be stabbing me right now," she replied, but immediately saw her husband get a worried look on his face.
In his state, where he was probably at least a little more aware of his surroundings, it was always better than him having a full-blown seizure and hurting someone else.
Setting the tray down on the bed, he scrambled over to her and placed his hand on her stomach, surprisingly gentle for someone who seemed so worried but at least it had a little ,,The warmth of love" he grinned as he saw her features relax and her hand rest on his.
Maybe it really was the bond between man and woman that could help them, that could ease their pain as she saw some sweet treats on the tray.
Treats they fed each other, the sweetness and warmth actually helping a little, ,,My caring emperor" she murmured to him before giving him a kiss.
A short kiss really, but one that made the blue-eyed man want more, his hand sliding from her belly to her side, letting her know he wanted her, ,,The healers said...a touch of body might help with your pain," he said as they parted, the smell of sweetness mingling slightly with the tang of metal.
She felt the slight shame burning on her cheeks, she knew it was supposed to help when they slept together it always seemed to make no difference, an agreement, a bond could do so much
,,But the blood" she already knew the skins and pillows needed to be cleaned even without the sex through her blood, but Caracalla just smirked, ,,Has an attractive effect on me" he just giggled before he kissed her again.
A kiss as they lay gently on the pillows, hands carelessly taking the clothes from each other's bodies, the room seemed too warm, too heated by their love that burned as his hand went to her breast.
The gods gave her the pain but also the sensitivity something that also struck her lover who looked at her almost proudly, ,,Never be ashamed of our union no blood will keep me from you" he assured her and began to kiss her neck.
The little bites and marks turned her on more than usual, her mind plagued by lust that surfaced between the pain whenever she thought of her husband, an emperor who continued to take care of her body.
His fingers skilfully massaged her breasts, teasing her nipples as he lightly pinched them and she shuddered as she groaned, ,,Mhhh gods you've made a pack with him" she giggled as she saw the amusement of Caracalla as he continued to take care of her body.
Every piece of her had to be loved by him, everything she needed he gave her, praised her, kissed her, bit her, licked her everything he just wanted to be with his wife.
His goddess who loved him so much it was the only right thing to do that he helped her through everything in their life together.
Blood was what he liked in the Coloseum arena, and her blood seemed to act like an aphrodisiac on him, making him lose himself in lust and slight madness.
He finally kissed her belly before running his hands along her thighs and pushing them slightly apart, ,,Your emperor will take away any pain...as sweet reddish as a cherry you are" he compared them and the couple both smiled at the sweet but apt comparison.
A comparison as his hand held hers as she saw him caress himself a little and yet she opened her legs, his hungry expression meeting her slightly pleading one.
The feeling as he was inside her not unfamiliar but pleasing the sounds of the couple mingling as he kissed her again the brief moment of time to geen hung between them.
But now their shared love seemed to diminish, with every thrust he made, every movement, every lustful sound that escaped them both, their love for each other only blossomed more.
His hands went from her hips to her body every now and then, giving it further attention, knowing that it made her feel good when the pain was taken over by the pleasure.
,,Don't stop" she only breathlessly brought out, wrapping her legs around his hips to feel him deeper after a few minutes.
The healers were right love could banish pain and how love could banish it, rarely had she felt him so intimately and arousing it was something a look at her husband told her they should both do more often.
Her hands shakily detached themselves from the fur and scratched along his torso, his grunts letting her know he was the one enjoying the pain, something she gave him more of.
His thrusts increasing whenever she pulled at his light-coloured hair, scratching along his skin, his back streaked with red.
The couple gave themselves to each other, savouring everything and the sounds that echoed off the stone walls as if they were looking at each other from afar.
She heard him stammer ,,I love you" almost sensing that he was close to his climax, a tingling sensation in her stomach that she could only answer with a nod as she pulled him even tighter against her.
The moments passed and the movements became more hurried and intense until the stifled cry was lost in the kiss as the couple shuddered and clung to each other as the climax came over them both.
A moment in which the pain and the blood didn't matter, his care didn't matter, they held each other and only separated after a short moment.
He lay down next to her with a slight grin and put his hand on hers, ,,The gods should honour us like this more often" and the couple had to laugh again when she turned to him and held his hand.
But no more pain plagued her as she gave him a kiss on the forehead and now knew that love could conquer even the pain of blood.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
@cottoncandiescupcakes , @somepallings , @k-yurieee , @qardasngan , @sweeteststing , @songbirdmunson , @abundance-of-fic-reblogs , @bel0ved-heretic
#gladiator ii#gladiator 2#emperor caracalla#emperor geta#emperor caracalla x reader#caracalla x reader#male x female#reader is female#fred hechinger
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for the drabble: wanda maximoff x reader, 17!!
Drunk in My Mind
pairing: wanda maximoff x reader
warnings: mention of alcohol
summary: you and wanda finally cave into what you both have been craving for.
word count: 1.2k
a/n: for my lil spotify wrapped game! send me a number :) i should maybe start proofreading but im lazy..so as always pleeeeease forgive my mistakes.
#17 on my wrapped was drunk in my mind by benson boone
The soft hum of your apartment was the only thing filling the silence, the clock ticking away with an almost mocking rhythm. You stared at the empty glass in your hand, the sweetness of the wine still lingering on your lips. You didn’t really know why you’d poured it in the first place, but you needed something else to cloud your mind. The night was too quiet for comfort, and your thoughts kept drifting back to her—Wanda Maximoff.
She’d come into your life like a whirlwind, and ever since, you couldn't seem to shake her – not that you even wanted to. She occupied your thoughts in a way that both exhilarated and terrified you. Her smile, her laugh, the way her eyes softened when she looked at you—how could you not fall in love with her. And yet, she felt so far out of reach.
You poured yourself a half a glass and downed it quickly, the warmth spreading through your chest, but it didn’t help. Nothing helped. The ache in your heart was still there, persistent and gnawing. You could not get your mind off her.
As if summoned by your aching mind, there was a knock at the door—a soft, hesitant one. You didn’t need to guess who it was.
Wanda.
You opened the door before your heart could stop racing. There she was, standing on your doorstep in that familiar red jacket, her hair gently tousled by the wind. Her eyes were searching yours, almost nervously, as if she were unsure of herself.
“Can we talk?” she asked, her voice soft but steady.
You didn’t even know how to respond. What was there to say? You missed her more than you could put into words, but it was all too complicated.
Stepping aside, you let her in to your apartment. You could only hope she couldn’t hear your heart pounding against your chest.
Once inside, Wanda seemed to hesitate again, looking around the room as she searched for the right words. But when her gaze met yours, everything else seemed to blur. The warmth in her eyes, the softness of her expression—it was like everything you had ever wanted was right there.
"I’ve been thinking about… us," Wanda said quietly, almost as though she were testing the waters. "Things have been weird between us the past few weeks.” She was right. Ever since you both had a few too many drinks at Natasha’s party and woken up together in the same bed—fully clothed—the next morning without a single memory of what had happened the night before, there was an awkward tension between you and your best friend.
“I know you’ve noticed it too," she continued. “I think we both know what’s going on, what we’ve been avoiding.”
You swallowed hard, your pulse quickening. You knew exactly where this conversation was going. Or rather, where it wasn’t going.
"I’m sorry," you said before she could continue, your voice hoarse. "I didn’t mean to—"
Wanda stepped forward, interrupting you by gently taking your hand. "No, it's okay. It’s just... I’ve been thinking about it too. About us. About what this is. Or what it could be."
Your breath caught in your throat, and before you could say anything, she closed the distance between you, her lips pressing softly against yours. It wasn’t a desperate kiss. It was slow and deliberate, conveying all the things you both left unsaid the past couple of weeks.
You melted into the kiss, the taste of her lingering in your mouth. When she pulled away, her forehead rested gently against yours. You both stood there for a moment, not wanting to break the reverie yet.
“I’ve missed you,” Wanda whispered, her breath warm against your skin.
You couldn’t hold back anymore. “I think about you all the time. More than I should. You’ve got me drunk in my mind.”
“I know what you mean.” A small, almost wistful smile tugged at the corners of her lips. “You’re all I can think about.”
There it was—the unspoken truth you both had been avoiding, the feelings that had been simmering between you two for so long, the ones neither of you had dared to address. But with the soft light in the room and the lingering kiss still fresh on your lips, it was now or never.
“I don’t want to keep pretending with you.” You pulled her closer, your hands threading through her hair. “I want this. I want you too.”
She smiled, and it was the kind of smile that made everything in your world feel right, like you were exactly where you were meant to be. Wanda’s fingers brushed along your jaw, and for a moment, everything else ceased to matter. All the uncertainty, the confusion, the time apart—none of it existed when she was this close to you.
You kissed her again, this time with a little more urgency, a little more need, pouring all of your unsaid emotions into her lips. Wanda matched your fervor, her hands sliding around your waist, pulling you even closer, her body pressing against yours, leaving no space between you. The kiss deepened, and you felt her fingers gently trail down your spine, sending a shiver through you.
When you broke the kiss, both of you were breathless, your foreheads resting together as you tried to gather your thoughts. Wanda let out a soft sigh, her eyes closed, as if savoring the moment.
“I don’t know what this means, (Y/N),” she murmured, her voice still shaky. “But I know that I don’t want to lose you.”
The sincerity in her words sent a pang through your heart, one you couldn’t ignore. You pulled back just enough to look her in the eyes, searching her face for any hint of doubt or hesitation, but all you saw was honesty and vulnerability.
“I don’t want to lose you either, Wands,” you whispered. “And I don’t know what this is either. But I can’t keep pretending that we’re just friends.”
“I know.” Wanda nodded, her fingers gently tracing patterns on your arm. “You’re more than just my best friend. You’re my everything.”
You swallowed, the weight of her words settling on your chest like a sweet pressure. “I just—” You hesitated, not wanting to say the wrong thing, but also needing to voice the truth that had been swirling in your mind. “I just need to know you’re in this. With me. Not just… for a moment, but really in it. I need to know we’re both ready for whatever comes next.”
Wanda looked at you for a long time, her eyes searching yours, before a soft smile tugged at her lips. “I’m in it, (Y/N). All the way.”
You held her gaze for a moment longer, letting the words settle between you like a promise. In that moment, all of your doubt and fears melted away. It was just you and Wanda, standing in this space, the air thick with possibility.
Without thinking, you kissed her again—this time more tenderly, more slowly, savoring the warmth of her lips against yours and the way she seemed to fit perfectly in your arms. When you pulled away, you both stood in silence for a moment, not needing words to understand what had just passed between you.
Then, Wanda took your hand again, this time with more confidence. “So, what now?” she asked, her voice playful but laced with a hint of seriousness.
You smiled, your heart lighter than it had been in days, maybe weeks. “Now,” you said, “we see where this takes us.”
And for the first time in a long time, you truly believed that whatever came next, you would face it together.
— — — — —
wanda taglist: @alexmxff @likefirenrain @amasimpformilfs @crescent-witch @iliketozoneout @fxckmiup @inluvwithfictionalwomen @chelleztjs18 @mediocre-writerr @milfloverslut @fayhar @kermy48 @nataliasknife @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @when-wolves-howl @findingmaximoff @kacka84 @carnagewidow @bentleywolf29 @wandaromanoffsblog @noaaas-world @luvwanda @togrowoldinv @sadpiscesheart @jujuu23 @beenicejoy @an-evergreen-rose
#my writing#wanda maximoff x reader#wanda maximoff imagine#wanda maximoff#wanda x you#wanda maximoff x y/n#wanda maximoff x you#wanda x reader#marvel x reader#marvel imagine#2024 wrapped fics
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Reading Material
This was not a request, sorry, but I have been a bit overwhelmed lately, so will not post as much as usual. Anyways, this story is based on the thought of Josh finding out about the sexy smutty book you're reading, and basically how he would react. Hope you like it!
Word count: 1,1k (unedited)
I open the book, resuming on the page I left off. Luckily for me, the cover of it is quite discrete. At the same time, the sex-scenes weren’t many. The book overall is interesting, and has a good plot, but those types of scenes last for at least two chapters in one sitting, so I have to be careful when I read them. Who knows who might be peeking. The only person who usually does is Ashley, but she’s in another room with Chris and Matt, talking about some series or movie she recently watched.
I make myself comfortable on the sofa, knees coming up, tightly pressed together. The page turns, tension building up as the main characters get into it once again. My eyes are glued to the ink, failing to see the shadow behind me. I take it all in, imagining it in my head as they do their thing. What kind of position is that? I turn a page back, trying to make sense of it. One leg there, arms around his torso. Before I can understand it all, a hand comes down, taking a firm grip on the top of the book, snatching it out of my fingers. I yelp at the suddenness, turning quickly while trying to grab it back.
“Hey!”
“What do we have here?”
Josh takes a few steps back as I stand up and walk around the furniture. He smiles, turning back a few pages to see the start. I run at him, but he easily dodges my attempt, using one of his hands to push me away.
“I swear to God, Josh, give it back!”
“Never knew you had such porn-fantasies”
“You looked when there was that type of chapter, it’s a good book”
“Hold up, things just got interesting” he continues, a smirk plastered on his lips as his eyes roll over the lines. I try one more time to snatch it back, but fail again. He starts running to the hallway, and I sigh loudly as I follow. This man will not go tell the others, I’ll make sure of that.
“Don’t you dare!” I yell, turning the corner in the dark room. As I do, an arm captures me. He slams me against the wall, grabbing both of my wrists in one hand, holding them over my head.
“I’m not done reading” he teases, eyes capturing mine before going back to the open book. I wiggle, hoping to get out of his grasp. Just as I’m about to make it, his fingers tightens, body pushing mine into the wall, using his legs and upper body strength.
“Josh, I will literally kill you!” He laughs, gaze going over my form beneath him.
“Sure you will, oh and look at that” he continues, tongue going over his lips.
“What?”
“We’re in the exact same position as those in your little fantasy”
I can help the blush that spreads on my cheeks, face heating up as he draws himself closer. The other guys are two rooms away, talking loudly and unaware of the situation I’ve put myself in. I feel my breathing get uneven and heavy, chest rising and falling rapidly in response to him. He does the same, the smirk gone and replaced by a small surprised expression. Mouth slightly open, hot air being blown onto my face. I gaze into his eyes, lids low as he shifts his stare from my eyes to my lips, and then up to my eyes again. I can only describe it as a silent request, a question about the next part. I give a small nod, and he comes closer, noses brushing against each other.
Before I can comprehend what’s happening, he changes positions. He turns us around, making him go against the wall with my back against his chest. I gasp, feeling the pressure on my wrists as he holds them tightly to my side, his muscular arm trapping me on him. Face buries itself in my hair, mouth making its way to my ear. He lifts the book in front of me, forcing my face forward to look at the page.
“Read this passage out loud” he whispers, lips touching my ear. His fingers graze over the text, guiding me to the relevant sentences. I take a breath, sinking into him, head leaning back on his shoulder. He smells like oranges and bark, a comforting combination.
“Come on, do it” he teases, using his head to move mine to the side. He starts kissing down my neck, small kisses and bites, not hurting. I look down on the text again, reading every word out loud between gasps of air from how he’s working on me.
“I crave your tender touches, I want to feel all of you on top of me as I explore every part of your body with my mouth” I whisper. He lets go of my wrists, letting both my arms fall to the side. I don’t move away from him, but instead let his hand wander up my stomach, settling on one of my breasts.
“Now read the next line”
I look down again, his thumb caressing the paper, still holding the book firm.
“I want you to fuck me like you mean it”
He groans in my ear, chest heaving against my back, moving my body as well.
“What the hell is going on here?” Matt asks, and we both jump away from one another. I look up embarrassingly, while Josh just stares with his mouth wide open.
“What are you doing?”
I’m about to stutter a reply, but Josh beats me to it, putting on his jokester-face and waving the book.
“Just some light reading”
“Really?”
Matt comes closer, snatching the book from his hands. My instincts get the better of me and I yell out a loud “no” while trying to get it back. He holds the book high while reading, one hand holding me back.
“Damn, this is some nasty stuff y'all”
Josh looks down, tomato-red blush covering his cheeks. I keep persisting, wanting to get the book back. Bad enough that two of my friends saw this today.
“Guys! You’ll not believe what I found these two horny fuckers reading together!” he yells to the other room, starting to make his way there. Josh and I give each other a look. This cannot be happening. We scream out protests, and Matt turns around in shock, starting to run when he sees us coming. This is not just a game anymore, we need to get that book back.
#until dawn#joshua washington#josh washington#josh washington x reader#josh washington x reader smut#until dawn josh#josh washington until dawn#josh washington imagines#josh washington smut#joshua washington x reader#joshua washington smut#joshua washington x reader smut#until dawn x reader#until dawn josh x reader#rami malek x reader#rami malek#until dawn oneshot#until dawn fanfics#until dawn fic
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My work for the Qijiu Secret Santa!
Giftee had multiple prompts but I ended up on"SJ didn't end up on CQ. Their reunion is different than in canon."
Anyway I am now 47384 layers deep into hell another Qijiu AU so more under the cut if you wish to dive in.
So essentially the AU starts simple enough: Everything is the same as in canon, except SJ never makes it out alive out of the Qiu Manor fire. Too embittered and angry to die, he becomes a ghost and sets out to do what he does best, which is survive and claw his way to a spot where he can be safe and not fear others as much. So he becomes a calamity ghost.
On his adventures to find Yue Qi (or what remains of him), he comes across Ning Yingying, Ming Fan and Luo Binghe at different times. Against all odds they stick with him and he doesn't hate it. It's nice to have company even if he reasons the dead are probably not the best company for kids. But he can't just leave them to the slavers. So they are now adopted and his lil ducklings. He finds they are equally unhinged as he is very quickly. The reason they look similar to him here with the veil and all is cause they wanna look like A-die :3 Bingus’s seal gets accidentally destroyed when SJ senses something odd about the boy when meeting him and whoops. Well there goes the seal. Guess they have to take him along now (not that NYY and MF were gonna let him leave without taking Bingo along). I figure this probably has good consequences on Bongo’s self confidence issues as he would learn early on that being half demon does not mean he’s evil. Afterall his A-die is literally a ghost.
YQY still becomes sect leader, albeit a very, very depressed one. He killed Wu Yanzi at the IAC but SJ wasn't there this time. He wants to die but is stopped at every corner by either his Shizun or fellow sect siblings. A few years later, at one of the disciple selections, he sees a boy with a strong resemblance to SJ and picks him up immediately, hoping him to be either a relative or reincarnation. Either way, that's his son and sole reason for living now. Said son is the transmigrated Shen Yuan who is very much confused about the current state of the plot (wdym SQQ is not there?? Who is that QJPL? Where's Binghe??)
Anyway the ducklings weren't necessary but happened anyway so. Figured I'd mention them. One day Yqy goes on a nighthunt with Shen Yuan which then leads them into Ghost City by accident. And lo and behold who he runs into.
They reunite, probably take a while to sort their shit out and now Yqy's sect siblings just gotta deal with Zhangmen-Shixiong having an emotional support calamity ghost and husband and 3 new kids. (Mqf counts this as a net positive since at least he doesn't have to guard Yqy's sword anymore lest his shixiong pulls it out. Liu Qingge is Conflicted and takes a bit to get the memo. He DOES enjoy sparring with the calamity tho eventually.)
Apologies for recycling my one calamity SJ design but I am perpetually tired and couldn't think of anything different. And I am sorry for once again making a calamity SJ AU. I notice a pattern. Unfortunately I possess no illusions of having any control over my life.
Maybe one day I get around to fic writing I'll write this and the 37288483 AUs I have... but first, bonus sketches:
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Alone Together
On a chilly New Year’s Eve, Y/N, seeking an escape from loneliness, finds herself unexpectedly swept into a night of warmth, fireworks, and romance when longtime crush Harry shows up at her bar table.
Word Count: 2,297
Content Warning: mentions of alcohol.
Y/N swirled her drink absentmindedly, the ice clinking against the glass as she took a slow sip of her rum and coke. The bar was alive with laughter, music, and the countdown buzz of New Year’s Eve, but she felt strangely detached from it all. Alone, tucked into a shadowed corner booth, she watched the revelry through tired eyes.
People clinked glasses and kissed cheeks, confetti already beginning to litter the floor as the clock edged closer to midnight. The bubbly fizz of her drink stung her throat, grounding her in the moment, though her mind was far away. Why had she even come here? The idea of ringing in the new year surrounded by strangers had felt less lonely than staying at home, but now, she wasn’t so sure.
Her phone buzzed on the table—a message from someone she wasn’t ready to read. Instead, Y/N set the glass down with a sigh and glanced toward the bar. Maybe she’d get one more drink before the ball dropped… or maybe she’d finally leave the past year behind for good.
Y/N sighed, her hand hesitating over her phone as it buzzed again. The text notification glowed on the screen:
Sarah Jones: Hey! Mitch and Harry are nearby. Mind if they join you at the bar?
Her heart skipped. Harry. That Harry. It wasn’t like she didn’t know Sarah’s friend—she’d met him a handful of times through her bestie and her boyfriend Mitch, but those encounters were fleeting, polite. And now, Sarah was offering to send him her way, along with Mitch?
Y/N glanced around the crowded bar. The thought of company, especially familiar faces, was tempting. She didn’t know if she could handle starting the new year completely alone, but the idea of sitting at a table with Harry Styles brought its own kind of pressure.
She took another sip of her rum and coke and typed back:
Y/N: Sure, why not?
Her thumb hovered over the send button before she hit it. The text went through, and she exhaled deeply.
Y/N barely had time to second-guess her decision before Mitch and Harry appeared at the entrance, their tall frames instantly recognizable even in the dim, crowded bar. Mitch spotted her first, grinning as he nudged Harry and pointed toward her table. Y/N felt her heart race as they wove through the throng of people, her grip tightening on her glass.
Harry was dressed effortlessly, of course—black jeans, a slightly unbuttoned shirt under a blazer, his signature rings catching the light as he waved at her. Her stomach flipped. He was unfairly charming, his presence commanding yet easygoing, and it only heightened the fluttery feeling she’d been trying to suppress for years.
“Happy almost New Year!” Mitch greeted, sliding into the seat across from her. Harry followed, his warm smile lighting up his face as he settled in beside Mitch.
“Hope we’re not crashing your night,” Harry said, his voice smooth and low. He leaned slightly forward, his green eyes locking with hers in a way that made her pulse quicken.
Y/N shook her head quickly, hoping her voice didn’t betray her nerves. “Not at all. I could use the company.”
Mitch ordered drinks for himself and Harry while they chatted about the chaos of the night. Y/N tried to focus on the conversation, but Harry’s easy laughter and the occasional brush of his hand against hers on the table were distracting. She stole glances at him, thinking about the secret she’d kept from everyone except Sarah—her quiet, hopeless crush on him.
“Been here long?” Harry asked suddenly, drawing her attention back to him.
“Uh, not too long,” she said, fidgeting with her glass. “Just long enough to people-watch and second-guess my choice of drink.”
He chuckled, tilting his head. “Rum and coke’s a classic. Solid choice.”
She smiled, feeling her shoulders relax a little.
Y/N took another sip of her drink, feeling a small surge of confidence as the rum warmed her chest. She tilted her head, a playful smirk tugging at her lips as she turned to Harry.
“So,” she began, her voice teasing, “are you out tonight looking for a New Year’s kiss?”
Harry raised an eyebrow, a sly smile spreading across his face as he leaned back in his seat, the dim bar lights reflecting in his eyes. “Something like that,” he replied, his tone laced with humor, but his gaze lingered on her for a beat too long, making her stomach flip.
Mitch, clearly sensing the tension, let out a chuckle and raised his glass. “Don’t let him fool you—he’s hopelessly romantic under all that charm.”
Harry rolled his eyes good-naturedly, but his smirk didn’t fade. “I don’t know about that,” he said, his gaze flicking back to Y/N. “Just seems like a nice way to start the year off right, don’t you think?”
Y/N felt her cheeks warm, and she quickly looked down at her drink to hide her flustered expression. “Yeah, I guess so,” she murmured, trying to sound nonchalant.
But the way Harry’s eyes stayed on her made her wonder if there was more to his words than just idle flirting.
Mitch excused himself a moment later, claiming he needed to grab a drink at the bar and leaving Y/N alone with Harry. She tried not to overthink it, but the second Mitch was gone, the atmosphere between them seemed to shift. The crowded bar faded into the background, leaving only the two of them in their little corner.
Harry leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on the table as he studied her. “You’re not one of those people who hates New Year’s Eve, are you?” he asked, his tone curious but light.
She laughed softly, shaking her head. “Not exactly. I just… don’t really know what to do with it. It’s a lot of hype for one night, you know?”
“I get that,” he said, nodding. “Sometimes it feels like everyone’s trying too hard to make it perfect. But, every once in a while…” He paused, a small, knowing smile tugging at his lips. “Something surprising happens, and it makes the night worth it.”
Y/N raised an eyebrow. “Are you always this cryptic, or is that just a New Year’s Eve thing?”
Harry chuckled, a soft, melodic sound that sent a shiver down her spine. “Maybe it’s the rum,” he joked, nodding toward her drink. “Or maybe it’s just me trying to impress you.”
Her heart skipped a beat, and she tried to play it cool, leaning back in her seat. “Impress me? That’s a tall order, Styles.”
He grinned, leaning forward even more, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “Well, I do love a challenge.”
Before she could respond, Mitch returned with a fresh drink, breaking the moment. But even as they all settled back into conversation, Y/N couldn’t shake the feeling that something had shifted between her and Harry. And with the countdown to midnight inching closer, she wondered just how far he was willing to take his “challenge.”
The noise inside the bar grew louder as the countdown neared, voices chanting in unison as the energy reached a fever pitch. Y/N glanced at Harry, who gave her a slight nod toward the door.
“Fireworks are better outside,” he said, his voice low enough that only she could hear.
Without hesitation, she grabbed her coat and followed him. The cool night air hit her as soon as they stepped out, a sharp contrast to the warmth of the bar. The street was quieter, though the distant sound of music and cheers still carried through the night. Above, the sky was clear, stars faint against the glow of the city lights.
She crossed her arms, shivering slightly as a gust of wind swept past them. “I didn’t realize it would be this cold,” she muttered, trying to rub warmth into her arms.
Harry chuckled softly beside her. “London is cold, huh?” he teased.
Before she could respond, he slipped his arms around her shoulders, pulling her closer. The move was so natural, so easy, that it took her breath away. His warmth enveloped her, and for a moment, she forgot about the chill altogether.
“Better?” he asked, his voice soft, his chin just barely brushing her temple.
She nodded, leaning into him slightly. “Much better.”
They stood like that for a moment, the sounds of the crowd inside muffled as the first distant boom of a firework lit up the sky. Bright colors burst above them, painting the night in shimmering light. Y/N tilted her head up to watch, but she couldn’t ignore the steady thrum of her heart, the way it seemed to sync with the rhythm of Harry’s breathing.
“One minute,” he said quietly, his voice rumbling against her ear.
She swallowed hard, her pulse quickening. Was this really happening? She’d dreamed of moments like this but never thought they’d feel so… effortless. So real.
The countdown began in the distance—ten, nine, eight—and Harry loosened his hold just enough to turn her toward him.
“Seven, six…”
Her eyes met his, and she saw the question there, the unspoken tension that had been building all night.
“Five, four…”
Her breath hitched as he leaned in closer, the world around them fading away.
“Three, two…”
And then, with the final chime of “one,” Harry closed the distance, his lips brushing hers as the first firework exploded above them. The kiss was soft and tentative, a perfect beginning to what felt like something more.
It was gentle at first, almost hesitant, as if Harry was giving her a chance to pull away. His lips were soft and warm, a stark contrast to the cool night air that bit at her skin. The fireworks overhead painted fleeting bursts of color across their faces, but Y/N barely noticed. All she could focus on was the way his hand cupped the side of her face, his thumb brushing her cheek in a delicate, reassuring motion.
As the initial surprise melted away, she leaned into him, her hands instinctively finding their place on his chest. The kiss deepened slightly, still unhurried but charged with a quiet intensity. It wasn’t flashy or dramatic—it was tender, meaningful, as though he wanted to savor every second.
When they finally broke apart, their foreheads rested together, and Harry’s breath mingled with hers in the cold air. His green eyes searched hers, a small, almost shy smile tugging at his lips.
“Happy New Year,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.
Y/N felt a laugh bubble up, her cheeks flushed—not from the cold, but from the realization that this moment, this kiss, was better than anything she’d imagined. “Happy New Year,” she whispered back, her voice catching slightly as her heart raced.
Harry pulled back slightly, his arms still resting loosely around her. The fireworks overhead cast fleeting shadows across his face, but it was his smile that caught Y/N’s attention—a soft, almost boyish grin that made her heart flutter all over again.
“So…” he began, his voice warm and teasing. “That kiss seemed pretty good, yeah?”
Y/N couldn’t help but laugh, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear as she looked up at him. “I mean, I’ve had worse,” she teased, though her smile gave her away.
Harry chuckled, his thumb brushing lightly against her shoulder. “Well, if you’re not busy sometime soon… maybe we could test it out again? You know, under more proper circumstances. Like a date.”
Her breath caught, the playful glint in his eyes making her pulse quicken. “A date?” she repeated, as if she needed to confirm it wasn’t just her imagination.
He nodded, his expression softening. “Yeah. Dinner, drinks… whatever you like. Just you and me.”
Y/N smiled, her cheeks warm despite the chill in the air. “I think I’d like that,” she said, her voice quieter now, the weight of the moment settling over her.
Harry’s grin widened, a flicker of relief crossing his face. “Good,” he said, his tone almost triumphant. “It’s a date, then.”
They lingered there for a moment longer, the fireworks still bursting in the sky above them, but all Y/N could think about was the way the new year had already surprised her in the best possible way.
#harry styles#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles masterlist#harry styles smut#one direction#harry styles x reader#harry styles one shot#hs live#otra tour#harry edward styles#love on tour#harrystylesfanfic#harry styles fan fic#harry styles fic#harry styles fanfic#harry styles one direction#harrystyles#hs4#hs#harry#harry styles writing#harry styles imagine#harry styles mature
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The Undying Oath (NSFW)
Chapter 3: It All Came Crumbling Down (SFW)
Pairing: Viktor x fem!Reader
Summary: As reader navigates her grief, she watches the rug being swept from under her. One after the other, the pillars holding together her life crumble, and she's forced to cling to her values and ideals, upholding Viktor's legacy.
A/N: This is more of a bridge chapter, connecting the setup of the two previous chapters to where I want to bring the story next. I hope you like it despite that. Happy New Year!!
Warnings: Major Character Death. Loss of a loved one. Angsty. War.
Word Count: 6.4K Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 (in progress) Also on AO3
The few seconds it took for Jayce's words to finally sink in felt like an eternity. The synapses in her brain fought hard to soften the blow, the mechanisms of grief starting to engage as soon as the message was received.
The only thing preventing her legs from giving out was the surge of guilt rapidly encapsulating her whole body. She did not deserve to rest.
It was all for nothing.
Her mind plagued her with images of Viktor in his final days, slowly decaying. Suffering not only from his ailments, but from the pain of betrayal from the only person he sought comfort from, as his condition started preventing him from the work he often escaped to. Those tired golden eyes piercing her in accusation as they slowly closed a final time.
She could only tell Jayce's approaching her once his hand reached her shoulder. Her eyes quickly went from his hand to his face, where he wore an apologetic expression.
"It's not your fault." He said as softly as he could.
She couldn't respond. Her hanging mouth felt as dry as when she was in Shurima. Her gaze followed Viktor's statue body up to his face, the sharp corners adorning his jaw looked as pristine as they did the first time they met. He was beautiful.
Her beautiful fiancee whose thick accented voice she would never hear again.
That's when the grieving surpassed the guilt. She fell to her knees in a painful sob, her hand finding purchase on the statue before her. The tears rolling down her cheeks blurred her vision, but it didn't stop the flashing images of Viktor behind her eyes. She sobbed quietly, holding back her voice as much as she could - she shouldn't be allowed to grieve for the loss she bestowed upon herself.
Jayce kneeled beside her in silence for a moment, a hand gently placed on her back for comfort. But it wasn't long before he decided to leave her alone - he felt like she needed a moment by herself with Viktor.
As the tears started to subdued, she groggily sat beside the statue of Viktor hugging her knees together and resting her head on his feet. She spent the night in Jayce's office in a broken slumber, whispering apologies to the cold night air during the brief moments of consciousness.
She woke up the next day with Jayce's warm hand on her shoulder.
"Let's get you to your dorm," he spoke softly "You need some proper rest."
She didn't have the presence of mind to deny him, so she simply nodded before Jayce took her hand, gently bringing her to her feet and led her through the halls of the Academy.
Once they reached her door, he cooed her inside.
"I'll leave you to it, the Council needs me," he said. "I'll come by later so we can get you some food, okay? Rest well."
As soon as the door closed behind her, she was hit by a stale yet familiar scent - the scent of her life together with Viktor. The room was untouched, as if they had left it just this morning to work and she was coming back at the end of the day, the thin layer of dust covering every surface the only indication that time had passed. The bed was unmade, piles of books filled the shelves by the windows, there were some clothes discarded on the floor probably from the last time one of them jumped in bed after a long day and couldn't bother throwing them into the hamper.
A renewed wave of misery crashed onto her at the sight, she forced herself to stand her ground and not collapse onto the floor again. She walked around slowly, taking in every little detail, not daring to touch anything, as if preserving the scene could somehow bring her back to that old life from two years ago.
She stopped at Viktor's desk upon noticing his journal opened up on his last entry. She felt conflicted, there was a part of her that desperately wanted to read his journal in a feeble attempt to feel close to him again and she almost gave in to the urge, but the guilt held her in place - was she even allowed to pry into his personal notes after everything she did?
She took a deep breath. This journal was Viktor's last words, his final message to the world - there could be his will or dying wishes written in there, he was a very meticulous man after all. He deserved at least to be heard a final time. The girl sat down on his chair, pulling the journal closer to her.
"I am afraid I might be living the twilight of my life and I'll soon be headed to that good night.
Despite working tirelessly to find a way to prolong my days, to cure this wretched ailment that fell upon me, I still can't see even a glimpse of a solution in the horizon.
And this growing decay inside me doesn't seem to want to stop anytime soon, expanding the distance between us in this morbid race I've been forced into.
The only thing keeping me sane is the light and warmth of my hearthfire that is [Y/n]. The possibility of a future where we get to grow old together side by side keeps the darkness at bay. I'm sure I'll find a way to get there.”
She hastily closed the journal back to save the pages from getting stained as the tears began falling copiously down her face again. Her knees gave out and she fell down, holding her torso up by the edge of the desk.
The tears turned to sobbing and then to wailing. In the uncanny familiarity of their bedroom, she finally allowed herself to grieve.
As the tears started to subside, she felt the weight of exhaustion pull her down. It hit her that she hadn't had a proper night of sleep on a bed ever since she left on her expedition. For a moment, the lethargy she felt paired up with the self-loathing festering inside of her had her considering curling down on the floor where she knelt and sleeping right there, but something tugged at her.
She felt a warm gentle humming radiating from her left arm, traversing its extent in waves. She quickly pulled back the sleeve of her coat and saw the golden veins on her marbled new arm faintly glowing. The sensation was gone as quickly as it came, the luminescent golden quality of the appendage dying down. and she realized she didn't feel as tired as before.
Her new magic came to her aid.
She chuckled dryly. “You would have loved this, Vik. A way to prolong your working hours without any chemical additives.”
She pulled the sleeve back down, standing up. Shedding the garments from the trip unceremoniously, she opted for a pair of sweats and a shirt whose sleeves fully covered the new arm. There was too much weighting at her mind at the moment, unpacking the stuff she went through with anyone just wasn't on the docket.
As the second wind her arm provided her died down, she grabbed Viktor’s journal from his desk and hopped onto bed. She fell asleep holding the journal tight against her body, lulled by the faint scent of him that still lingered onto the unmade bed.
The next five days happened in a daze. She laid in bed for hours, unable to leave, with energy to only to switch between silently crying, sobbing or sleeping. Jayce would come when he could, bringing her food and consoling her for as much time as he was able to spare. She was grateful for him, but would often leave a lot of what he brought untouched - she felt chronically nauseated.
On the sixth day, Jayce found her sitting up on the bed.
She was unkept, drained, yet there was a glint of something else behind her eyes. Something different from the ruined state she had been in. The sides of her mouth even curled up in a forced half-smile when she noticed the man.
“Good morning,” he muttered gently, placing the tray of food on the desk. “How are you feeling?”
“Not good,” she answered, looking down. “But a bit better than before.”
“Good to hear,” Jayce responded, sitting on the edge of the bed with her.
“I need to leave this room and do something,” she muttered, turning to the window. “Occupy myself a bit.”
“I think that’s a wonderful ideal,” Jayce said, reaching for one of her hands. She flinched for a second, avoiding his contact at first. But then quickly relaxed right after, offering her right hand out to him. He took it in earnest.
“They say that's good for the grieving process.”
“Yeah, it wouldn't be fair to Viktor’s memory either,” she chuckled. “I wonder what he'd say if he saw me like that.”
It was Jayce’s turn to chuckle. “I think he'd understand.”
“I might head back to the UDS, the Undercity model definitely needs to be updated after two years.”
Jayce didn't respond. How odd.
She searched his face and saw apprehension, his eyes fixated on a corner of the room.
Finally, with a deep breath, he met her gaze.
“The UDS has been dismantled.”
A couple of seconds passed before his words fully sank in.
“What?”
“With the growing conflict with the Undercity, priorities shifted,” he explained. “It didn't make sense to allocate funds to it any longer.”
Yet another pillar of her life tumbling down in front of her. All the work she's done over the past decade was discarded on a whim.
How Piltovan of them.
“That's my life's work, Jayce,” she barked, yanking her hand away from his grasp. “What about all my documents? My blueprints? My model? Was it all just discarded?”
He paused again.
“No,” he responded apprehensively. “Look, I tried arguing against it…”
She narrowed her eyes at him.
“Jayce…”
“You have to understand the circumstances, everything changed after the Council was bombed…,” he trailed off.
“Spit it out, Jayce!”
He swallowed dryly before speaking. “Everything that was in the UDS room is being used in the effort against the Undercity, including your model.”
“WHAT?” She almost jumped out of the bed. “With whose authorization? This is absolutely preposterous, I can't –”
She fought to find the words. Pressure started to build beneath her skin as an onslaught of thoughts plagued her mind, one more preposterous than the other. She could feel her jaw clenching, her breathing getting labored.
Her marbled arm getting warmer.
“Everything I mapped and cataloged about the Undercity was to help them, to better their lives,” she said between her teeth. “Not to brutalize them.”
“I know, but the intel the UDS could provide was detrimental to the conflict effort. The Council voted for it almost unanimously,” Jayce tried justifying. “There was nothing I could do.”
Likely story.
She scoffed. “And what would the Council have me do then? Escapading through the Lanes to gather more intel for their war effort? Because you know I won't do it.”
“No…
Jayce paused, taking a deep breath.
“With me out of the Lab and Viktor gone, you are the only one left with decent knowledge to continue developing projects on HexTech…”
She glared at him.
“What are you suggesting?”
Jayce swallowed dryly once more, unenthusiastically meeting her gaze. And with the same lack of intention, as if he couldn't believe his next words himself, he blurted out.
“They want you to develop HexTech weapons.”
Jayce's words brought their exchange to a standstill. With knitted brows, he waited for her response, trying to gauge her reaction from her countenance. All the while, she waited for his next words. Because there needed to be next words.
Because the nature of this proposition was so absurd, Jayce couldn't be serious.
“No.”
“(Y/N)-,” Jayce tried arguing, but she abruptly cut him off.
“I won't do it, that's final,” then pressure bubbled back up, each word pronounced like a punch. “Honestly, I feel offended you even considered bringing this to me.”
Jayce huffed. “You think I don't understand how this sounds? I don't like the idea either, but the conflict with the Undercity has been escalating to a degree that's getting out of hand.”
“Oh, so the solution is to bomb them with HexTech explosives? To litter their underground with HexTech mines?”
“We need the upper hand to put an end to the conflict!” It was Jayce’s turn to get worked up. “It would issue their rendition and we would be sparing lives!”
“We would be taking lives!” The swell of ire poisoned her words, building them into a vile crescendo. “To paint it as a panacea to the conflict is wishful thinking at best.”
“It is not ideal, but we’re far past the peaceful negotiations phase,” he retorted. “You would know that if you were here in the past two years.”
Jayce had a terrible habit to resort to petty comebacks whenever a discussion wasn't going his way. She saw it happen more times than she wished to whenever he and Viktor got stuck working on particular complex projects for far too long and exhaustion made everyone cranky.
Right now, dealing with the socio-political calamity at hand was clearly turning him into the worst version of said Jayce. And, like she did in the past, there was a world in which she'd brush it off and simply reel the conversation back to the topic at hand. To douse the flames so as not to get them both burned.
This was not such a world.
In the next second, she violently got up, lifting a finger at Jayce. “I will NEVER willingly participate in the genocide of my husband's people!”
Jayce did the same, barreling towards her, shoving a finger to her face. “He WASN’T your husband. You LEFT HIM at the altar to DIE!”
That was the last straw.
---------------------------------------------------
Jayce had realized he went too far the moment he noticed the tight knot in her brows and the lack of glimmer in her eyes, a blend of hurt and rage. He’d apologize, said he didn't mean it and the words that came out of him were mere fruits of the spur of the moment.
But it was the last pillar holding up the home she built in Piltover. And it came crashing down before her eyes, the falling rubble sending debris all around her. And as the dust settled down, she saw the only possible way forward.
Or downward.
She started packing as soon as Jayce left her room, sliding a large over-the-shoulder bag from under the bed. She made quick work of stuffing some clothes, her journal, and some other light equipment. She finished up by carefully placing Viktor's journal atop her belongings, slotted between some fabrics for safekeeping.
She put her coat on, pulled the hood over her head, slinged the bag over her shoulders and sneaked out of Academy.
And she was suddenly back to when she was a kid.
The divide between Topside and the Undercity seems abrupt at first glance. A clean cut, where one could easily pinpoint where one ended and the other started.
However, someone from The Fringes knows that there are a lot more shades of gray in this black-and-white picture Topsiders like to paint.
Much like the intricacies of the socioeconomic relations of the sister cities, exist capillary breaches connecting them. Crevices invisible to the eyes of Piltovans, that in their hubris, never made an effort to look into. Alleyways a little wider than a foot that always remained unpatrolled by enforcers before the conflict and that she was sure wouldn't be patrolled now.
From checkpoint to checkpoint, she slipped between those cracks until there were no more blue uniforms in sight.
Truth be told, the Enforcers were much more worried about preventing trenchers from moving up than making sure no topsider was sneaking into the Undercity.
She stopped sneaking once the familiar smell of stale urbanity air hit her nostrils. The streets were eerily quiet, much different from the neon-bathed everlasting nightlife she was used to - if it wasn't for the humming of machinery or the eventual person walking hastily by her, she'd assume it was a ghost town.
Apprehension took hold. She wasn’t sure exactly where to go, just hoped she'd stumble upon a friendly face at some point. Maybe people who’d recognize the Architect from all the on-site data gathering she used to do as part of the UDS. Maybe even someone who'd remember her walking around with Viktor.
Pain rose from her chest at the memory.
In the new relative calmness devoid of the fear of being perceived, her mind raced. There was a cacophony of emotions roaring inside her, sadness that her place in the academy was no more, grief from the very recent loss of her fianceé, guilt from breaking her promise and leaving Viktor to die alone.
But on top of it all was rage. Pure molten ire for Piltover taking over her life's work, which she toiled over for years on an underfunded (due to pure disinterest of topside on the matter) section of the academy, and twisting it, completely stripping it of its original purpose, perverting it at its core.
And Jayce, of all people, not vetoing it?
She fumed, clenching her jaw as she made her way forward. Her marbled arm tingled erratically every time a new painful memory resurfaced, but she was far too engulfed in her righteous wrath to take notice of that.
Or of the quickly approaching footsteps from behind.
In an instant, she felt the loss of the weight of her bag as someone swiftly took it off of her shoulder. The figure then held her bag tight against them, never faltering in their stride. It took her a second to snap back from the astonishment before dashing behind the thief.
She ran as fast as she could, not worried with her clothes, her equipment or any of her belongings inside her bag - only Viktor’s journal. But as the chase continued, her lungs burned, not used to the thick, polluted air of the Lanes anymore. Soon, every fiber of her body started screaming for her to stop, her legs started faltering and she watched as the distance between her and the thief grew.
She was going to lose the very last piece of him she had. Have it mercilessly snatched away from her grasp. And again, she was gonna be unable to prevent it.
The very thought made her sick, like a humming uneasiness in the pit of her stomach. And it quickly expanded, hot and incandescent, every cell inside her igniting in a chain-reaction until it engulfed her in a golden inferno.
Her marbled arm flew forward on instinct, the veins glowing an intense golden hue. With a scream, as if all the pressure that had been building up exploded, a burst of energy went flying from her outstretched palm, hitting the thief squarely in the back.They fell on the floor, rolling around from momentum, before stopping.
She stopped at their prone body, falling to her knees as she tried to catch her breath. Gazing down down at her marbled arm, she notoced the vein’s glow was already dimming. As soon as her breathing normalized and the nausea from exertion subsided, she grabbed her bag back and slung it across her torso.
She got up and was about to leave the scene, but something told her not to. She glanced back at the thief's form, still prone on the floor. Worry nagged at her, she had no idea what had just transpired and how whatever that was could've affected the thief outside of stopping them in their tracks.
She took a deep breath before kneeling back down beside the thief and turning them on their back. She was met with his eyes, wide and scared, frantically looking at her. The rest of his body was completely still. Whatever she's done, seemed to have paralyzed him. Locked him in his own body.
She panicked. The thief, a man probably in his early 20's, didn't deserve this fate. Glancing over her marbled arm, she wondered if she could somehow reverse it. She was supposed to be a healer mage now, right? She did it before, sort of.
Taking another deep breath, she placed her marbled palm on his chest. With her eyes closed, she tried to envision him running earlier, tried to perceive her own guilt for his fate, tried to beg the Cosmos, the Immortal Flame that made her its Aspect, to heal the man and grant him back his movement.
And then she started feeling a warmth blossoming in her gut, slowly travelling through her body up until her marbled palm. She opened her eyes and watched as the golden veins on her arm glowed, bathing her and the man in a cozy warm light. As soon as the light subsided, the thief gasped, quickly sitting up and scooting backwards.
“It's ok-,” she faltered, being suddenly overtaken by vertigo. Whatever healing she did paired with the chase seemed to have taken its toll, rendering her unable to continue. Her body stumbled forward, heavy with exhaustion. She barely had the presence of mind to catch herself with both palms to the floor.
From her peripheral vision, other figures started approaching the scene.
She heard their conversations.
“Be careful, she's a mage.”
“Go check if Nadir is OK, I'll deal with her.”
“Look at her clothes, she's a Piltie.”
“Quick, grab her stuff before she's back up again.”
Don't . But the words wouldn't come out. The figures kept closing in. She held her bag with as much force as she could muster, but her arms felt amorphous. There was no defending the bag anymore.
“Wait! Don't harm her! That's (Y/N)!”
A familiar voice rang from a figure further back. She looked up from her curled state on the floor, spots dancing in her vision with the motion.
“Ralph-,” was all she could muster before passing out.
---------------------------------------------------
The next time she opened her eyes, she was on a bed. The ceiling above was wooden, planks held together by bolted steel.
“Ah, you're awake.”
She quickly sat up trying to find the source of the voice. On a chair on the far end of the room sat a tall, lean man with light brown hair.
“Ralph?”
He beamed at her, dimples forming at the sides of his mouth. The same smile that would grace her all those years ago, when she was still just a kid of The Fringes. The first in command of the little band of misfits that she called her friends.
The man that used to have her heart.
“I really wasn’t expecting to see you down here,’ he said. “I'm sorry about the debacle the boys put you through, they didn't know.”
Memories of the chase came back at his words.
“My bag!” She frantically looked around. “Where's my bag!?”
“Woah, woah. Easy there!” Ralph cooed, motioning with his hands in an attempt to calm her down. “It's right there, on the floor next to the bed.”
She sighed in relief upon looking down and spotting the leather bag with gold and white accents she brought from Piltover.
Ralph chuckled. “So, how are you feeling?”
She lightly shook her head with a sneer. Such a mundane question felt almost comical at this point. She exhaled before responding. “A bit tired, but nothing to write home about…”
“Glad to hear it,” there was a shift in his eyes, as if a mask fell off. “Now, can you tell me exactly what you are doing back here in the Lanes?”
She frowned. “Why's that important? It's me Ralph, the Undercity is basically my home.”
Ralph leaned over, a more serious expression adorning his features. “You have to understand, (Y/N), the Undercity and the Topside are basically at war. It is very suspicious to have a Piltie wandering around the neighborhood.”
“I'm not a Piltie!” She scoffed, clearly offended. “You fancy me a spy or something?”
“Not me, I know who you are,” he continued. “But the others don't. And I need a good explanation to give them about someone from up there just happening to be here, especially with the little trick you pulled on poor Nadir.”
She grimaced as worry tugged at her.
“The one who took my bag,” she whispered. “Is he ok?”
“He's fine, just a little shaken. He'll live.”
She sighed in relief. Ralph kept eyeing her, suspicion still heavy on the pinch of his brow.
“Let's start with that,” he continued. “Was that some new fancy weapon Piltover developed for us?”
She blinked in bewilderment. “Of course not! Why would you think I'd be the one to contraband Piltovan weapons to use on Zaunites?”
Ralph didn't answer. Instead he studied her face, seemingly checking if it betrayed her words.
“Then what was it? Nadir said that he couldn't move after you shot him. And that somehow you undid it with your hands.”
She exhaled, looking down at her hands. At this angle, one could assume her marbled appendage was but a glove or some form of accessory, and not her actual limb.
Would it be wise to lay everything out to Ralph? That she was essentially a mage now, something unusual enough to be anyone's guess what kind of reaction the Zaunites would have?
On the other hand, what would omitting her newfound abilities really do? Was this sort of preservation even necessary at this point? She didn't have anywhere to go, no reputation to uphold, no legacy to keep.
Maybe this new identity might put a bigger target on her back. But could also be the key to open new doors on her path.
She was willing to take the risk.
“There's a lot I need to tell. Bear with me.”
She told Ralph about Viktor. How she indeed became romantically involved with him. How his health drastically declined during the last years of their relationship. About her research on mages and the subsequent quest that it led her to.
Ralph listened patiently without a word, his expression unreadable.
“I ended up in Targon and, although I couldn't bring a mage back with me,” she pulled her sleeve up, fully revealing the marbled arm. “I brought back a neat souvenir.”
With a knitted brow, Ralph got up from his seat, carefully getting closer to her. His eyes locked on her arm.
“What is that?”
“An arm,” she said matter-of-factly. “That's also a conduit for magic.”
She offered her arm up towards him. He studied it, carefully touching her marbled forearm with sheer curiosity, her words gradually sinking in.
“You became a mage?”
“Yes. Well, technically a host for an Aspect,” she replied. “Supposedly, I can heal people now.”
“Were you able to heal Viktor?”
The tightness in her chest returned. Guilt tore her insides, like a knife between her ribs. She swallowed back a lump forming in her throat before speaking.
“When I got back, he was already gone.”
His eyes shot up from her arm, acknowledging her words.
“I'm so sorry to hear that.”
Ralph let go of her arm, sitting beside her on the bed. He shed whatever guarded facade he was putting up until now, instead wearing a familiar soft expression. She found comfort in that.
Enough to break her own facade down as tears began rolling down her face.
Ralph wrapped his arms around her at the sight, pulling her into his chest. The gentleness of the act paired with nostalgic familiarity that was him made her feel unusually safe. And she let go, the tears crashing down like a downpour, staining his shirt in its wake. She sobbed as he soothed her, gently running his fingers through her hair.
She felt so weak, as thin as paper. Coming undone on a moment’s notice. A house that wasn't a home, with no beans, pillars or columns - standing on its walls alone. The whole of it coming down on the slightest of breezes.
She pulled herself away from him after calming down, sitting up straight again.
“I'm sorry about this…”
“Don't be,” he cooed. “You went through a lot, I'm not sure what I would do with myself if Lyanna d-.” He paused, rethinking his next words. “If I lost Lyanna.”
They sat in silence for a bit, not knowing what to say next. But somehow it was comfortable, as if time hadn't passed and they were still two kids again, without a care in the world. She was glad, she desperately needed some semblance of normalcy.
Ralph was the first to break the silence.
“Tell me more about this arm of yours,” he turned to her. “How does it work?”
She held her marbled arm, studying the golden veins on its surface. “Honestly, I'm not sure. The most I did with it was what happened with that Nadir guy.”
Ralph hummed, a wishful glint behind his eyes as he once again analyzed her limb. He then looked down as his own right arm.
“May I ask you to try something?”
With his left arm, he pulled the jacket he wore off, just enough to unveil his right arm.
Or what was left of it.
Her eyes grew wide in stupor at the sight. His arm was missing from the middle of his biceps down, the limb crudely bandaged up at the bottom. The tissue was tinted red with dried blood.
“Oh gods, what happened!?”
He chuckled dryly. “Enforcer bomb went out right next to me, I was lucky it only took my arm.”
“Ok,” she exhaled in resolution. “You want me to try to heal that wound?”
“Actually… Can you try bringing my arm back?”
Her eyes shot up to his face in exasperation.
“That's one tall order!”
“Could you at least try?,” he pleaded. “You said you weren't sure how those powers worked, but you did heal a man from being paralyzed.”
She scoffed. “Paralyzing that I inflicted in the first place!”
“All the more reasons to try then, that arm seems to be packing quite a punch.”
“I'm not sure about that…”
“Please, (Y/N),” the vulnerability in his voice caught her off-guard. “I need both my arms to work. We've been fighting for scraps ever since the conflict with Topside broke out, the loss of my arm only made providing for my family that much harder.”
With a deep breath, she reached Ralph's damaged arm with her marbled hand. Carefully as not to hurt him, she pressed her palm on top of the bandages.
“Here goes nothing.”
Closing her eyes, she tried to perform the same method she did when healing Nadir. She pictured Ralph with his right arm outstretched, the bottom part of his stump free of bandages, all the innards exposed. His humerus slowly regenerated, growing out of the upper arm region until it was complete, the radius, ulna and the hand following right after. Once the bones were settled, all muscles, tendons and ligaments acted the same way, until his whole arm was good as new. She then prayed, begged to the Celestials and the Aspect of the Immortal Flame to regenerate Ralph's arm. To bring back his full range of motions.
Her marbled arm hummed with energy, like an electric current traveling from her core to her palm in waves. Her breath hitched, weariness setting in as if she was on a jog, her energy getting steadily drained. But she persisted as much as she could, until the lightheadness she felt verged into a fainting spell.
Letting go of his arm, she panted as she caught her breath. She blinked a few times after opening her eyes in an attempt to get rid of the spots dancing around her vision. She glanced at Ralph's arm once she composed herself.
Where once was a badly bruised stump, with bloodied scars still inflamed, was a stump smooth and completely healed. The skin all around it even seemed fuller and healthier.
But there was no new arm in sight. Whatever healing she could muster couldn't create new flesh.
Her eyes met Ralph's, whose crestfallen expression told her he had arrived at the same conclusion.
But he quickly shook his head, smiling at her.
“At least you sped the healing process. It's a relief to get rid of the soreness.”
He then proceeded to take a big stretch with a loud yawn, before making a thespian show for getting up.
“If you don't have somewhere to stay, you should come to my place. I think Ekko would be interested in having you and those powers join his ranks.”
---------------------------------------------------
Ekko was indeed interested to have her and her powers join his ranks. Ralph led her to what she'd learn was the Firelight’s hideout - an oasis hidden at the upper level of the Undercity. A resistance group that once fought against the exploitation of Undercitizens in the hands of chembarons, and now fought back against Topsider’s occupation and forced pacification.
The people of the Hideout had mixed feelings towards her at first. There were those suspicious of someone who came from the Topside, hosting magic inside a bizarre arm. However, there were also those who knew her from when she was known as the Architect from the Academy, responsible for leading urban projects for the betterment of the Undercity. Soon, the suspicion thinned out, thanks to the vouching of Ralph and Lyanna, and she started to use her newfound powers for the sake of the community the Firelights had created.
Having a purpose again helped her navigate her grief better. With each smile her healing helped provide, each burden she helped lift, her consciousness felt a little less heavy. Viktor would be pleased, having his legacy survived in her, despite the suffering she'd previously caused him.
She learned of a mural on which the Firelights would paint the faces of notorious Undercitizens lost. After a while, she convinced them to add Viktor's face to the roster - a fellow Undercitizen Scholar who fought tooth and nail to make the Lanes s better place. She'd find herself looking up at him often; somehow, it brought her comfort to see his face among his people again. It kept her resolve firm in assisting Ralph and the Firelights.
Although the community was very self-sustainable, she learned that the conflict between Topside and the Undercity had created scarcity. One method they found of somewhat countering it was stealing as much as they could from the people outside the Hideout - especially from Pilties. That was what happened to her on her first day back - Ralph’s team spotted her gilded bag from a mile away, and so she’d become a target.
One day, after one of these expeditions, Ralph came up to her as she was doing some healing on an elderly Lady.
“Hey.”
He called from behind her.
“Give me a second, Ralph.”
She had her eyes closed, as she gently pressed her marbled palm on the lady's upper back. After a while, the glow of the veins on her arm faded out as she exhaled.
“There, Mrs. Siva. You should be able to breathe better now.” She beamed at the lady. On cue, Mrs. Siva took a long and unobstructed breath and smiled.
“Good heavens, the rasping is gone,” the Old Lady exclaimed. She turned around, taking both of the girl's hands. “Thank you kindly, my dear.”
The girl smiled back. “Don't mention it. Come back to me whenever you need.”
As Mrs. Siva left, the girl turned to face Ralph. Her eyes widened as she saw him.
“Your arm!”
Ralph smiled, waving at her with his hand. His new right hand. Connected to his new right arm. From the middle of his upper arm, where once was nothing, a mechanical prosthetic arm sprung, in steel and copper.
Prosthetics and augmentations were common in the Undercity, but with conflict causing both scarcity and destruction, rendering more and more people in need of mechanized limbs, they had become difficult to come by. That in itself would be enough cause to be surprised at Ralph's new acquisition, but this one also had a… refinement that was not commonly seen. She watched him wave at her, his movements natural and smooth, as if it was a real arm. If she didn't know, it could've easily been mistaken for a weird over-the-elbow metallic glove and not a prosthetic.
“That's amazing! Where did you get that?”
“It is, isn't it?” He twirled his wrist around, opening and closing his fingers. “I heard people talking about this guy’s workshop at the Entresol level and I decided to check it out. Turns out he was the real deal!”
“It must have cost a fortune,” she commented, getting up from her stool, and reaching for his new arm in awe.
“Would you believe me if I said it didn't cost me a single penny? The dude's doing this from the goodness of his heart or something.”
“Oh, wow,” she muttered. Instinctively, she glanced back at the painted mural, spotting Viktor. “I'm glad there's still people out there just making people's lives better.”
“Tell me about it, although… “ he scratched his chin, his eyes looking away from her. “He was mighty impressed with how the arm had healed before he did the procedure, and I ended up telling him about… Well, about you.”
Her eyes shot back at him with a scowl.
“Are you insane?”
“Wait wait, hear me out. Do you see this?” He brought both of his hands close to each other, touching each finger from his flesh hand to his prosthetic one rhythmically, with an impossible precision. “This kind of finesse is not a thing when it comes to prosthetics, and he theorized that life-like movements are a direct result of the interface between his tech and your healing magic.”
She hummed in response, eyes trailing his prosthetic arm again. Failing to bring Ralph’s arm back had pained her. It made her reminisce of her own time being an amputee, how even the most simple of tasks suddenly became a hassle in the face of her disability. She also watched him being often cast aside in the hideout, even when done not maliciously - the lack of his limb made him a liability. But now he had his arm back - and a damn good one at that.��
Imagine if all of the people in the hideout in need of a limb had a fine prosthetic like Ralph now possessed.
“He said he was interested in meeting you.”
She blinked a few times out of her thoughts. With a long exhale, she turned to look at Ralph.
“I’m interested in meeting him too.”
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