#they deserve love and finding comfort in each other

[wangxianficfinder]

Fic Finder

Nov 21st

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1. Hello! I'm trying to find a fic that I've read a long time ago. it was a modern/reincarnation au where Wei Ying is hired at an academy as a (history?) teacher but is unaware that the academy that hired him is actually a modern cultivation school where they practice cultivation secretly and learn the history of the canon mdzs timeline... Also Wei Ying can see ghosts/spirits. Thanks! @sheepie9967

FOUND? Retrouvaille by wxparoxysm (T, 75k, WIP, WangXian, XiCheng, Modern)

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2. Hi, I am looking for a smut fic. Lan Zhan is having an orgy with multiple versions of Wèi Wúxiàn, including a yiling laozu version, and Lan Zhan is pregnant. Eventually even more Wei Yings show up.

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3. Hello!! I am trying to find a WangXian fanfiction, but I really can't seem to find it. From what I remember, it was an arranged marriage when they were about fifteen, they haven't met each other yet as it was pre-cloud recesses study arc. The Gusu Lan Sect came to Lotus Pier to negotiate the betrothal. WWX made a condition before accepting it, he wanted to duel LWJ to see if he was worthy or not. I think it also has some JFM, YZY critical/bashing/canon characteristics. @lonelynebula5149

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4. Hi so this fic is that wwx take Wēn Yuàn to Jin ling 100 month celebration with him and there's this particular scene where he comes in jin tower with Jin what's his face that has the 100 souls curse and the peacock

And Wēn Yuàn was clutching his robes and they were all arguing until leader Nie shuts everyone up and then Ask wwx to show them his chest so wwx hands his little radish too the ghost general and show everyone his chest that's a scene that I could simply remember @constancebloodstone

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5. Hiiii! Hope you're having a great day/night! So I've looking for this one particular fic in which wy see lz with a woman who had her hand around his elbow while walking together on night then smells some foreign sweet smell on him in another night plus lz keeps coming home late so he starts thinking that lz is cheating on him but instead of getting angry he feels hurt and start blaming himself and thinking ofc lz is perfect so he deserves someone just as perfect and beautiful and eventually he confronts lz about it then find out that he was just escorting an elder Immortal ancestor wtv and spending time with her before she chose to end her Immortality since she lost her will to live after all her beloved ones died during her seclusion

FOUND! White Flag by incendir (T, 37k, WangXian, NHS/NZH, OMC/ OMC)

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6. Thank you for existing! I'm looking for a fic, modern au, where it turns out the reason Wei Ying got hit by a car (I think it was a car) was because he's deaf/hard of hearing on one ear so he didn't hear it coming. The cause of his damaged hearing is physical abuse from Madam Yu. Please help! @ilolatthis

FOUND! misunderstood 'verse by sysrae (M, 7k, WangXian, Modern, College/University, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, getting hit by cars, Past Child Abuse, Friends to Lovers, Abusive YZY, Caring LWJ, Injured WWX, partial hearing loss, the real OTP is everyone x therapy)

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7. I'm begging you to help me. I cannot for the life of me find the fic in which Lan Zhan has been asked by his brother to act in a PSA that Xichen wants to film at school, where he works. Xichen always ends up having sex with everyone at work, so when Wei Ying, a teacher at the school, comes in as Lan Zhan's scene partner, Lan Zhan assumes Xichen and Wei Ying have slept together. The PSA is about global warming, carbon emissions, etc. They shoot the scene several times and each time they get increasingly familiar with each other. The shooting ends with Wei Ying asking Lan Zhan out.

THANK YOU FOR YOUR HELP

FOUND! Worship you till morning comes by feyburner (E, 6k, WangXian, Modern AU, Meet-Cute, First Dates, First Time, Fluff, Kissing, Hand Jobs, Falling In Love)

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8. Hi! I only remember one specific scene from the story I'm looking for. Modern AU, JC and WWX are yelling at each other, and JC says something like "where did you get these stupid self-deprecating ideas/ the idea that you're not wanted in this family from" and WWX goes, in the same tone as a grade schooler, "your mom."

JC: NOT FUNNY.

WWX: IT KINDA IS THOUGH

And then they both cry and laugh at the same time and that's the reconciliation.

I think the main story might have been Wangxian? Pretty sure I only read that back then, but I can't remember anything else and I've looked everywhere. @rights-for-redshirts

FOUND! say it’s here where our pieces fall in place by Lirelyn (E, 68k, wangxian, Family Feels, Modern, Angst with a Happy Ending, Kid Fic, Adoption, Foster Care, most of the angst is backstory and we’re working through it, several characters have had therapy thank god, there’s a good amount of domestic fluff but also a lot of crying, Often at the same time, oh yeah eventually there will be smut, possibly also with crying, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Podfic Available)

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9. Hi again, Team! I’m going to feel absolutely /stupid/ but there was a fic I read where LZ secretly rates other people’s dicks & WY keeps trying to score 10/10 but is unable to do so. The only other things I can recall are NHS had a starring role & WX got together at the end! Any help would be appreciated! @arisuamichan

FOUND? Thank You for Submitting by westiec (M, 3k, WangXian, Dick Pics, Getting Together, Humor, NHS is here too, but he's mostly offscreen, Modern, United States, Podfic Available)

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10. For fic finders: the start of it is that a class of lans including LWJ were affected by a curse placed on the platform/building they were in and WWX and LXC tried taking them to the cold pond

That doesn’t work so they head off to LWJ to see how he’s handling it and the two Lans wonder why WWX doesn’t seem to be affected when he was also there. He laughs his way through having the same mental fortitude or whatever as LWJ before just coming out and saying that no one noticed he’s been missing his core for years and without a core it didn’t affect him

I think the curse was placed by JGY but that was kinda secondary detailing since WWX and LWJ got together because of this situation. A completed one shot, no multi chapter casefics here

FOUND? Stainless by Fahye (E, 6k, WangXian, Sex Pollen, Yuletide Treat)

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11. Hi! Please help me find this fic. I'm becoming desperate! Wei Wuxian is somehow turned into a kid. Some plot happens and Wei Wuxian turns back into an adult but in his original body and everyone is shook by this turn of events. They celebrate or something and then at the end WangXian adopt a baby named Yanli and the juniors and Jiang Cheng adore her. Please I loved it but firgot to bookmark it and can't seem to find it 😭 @pancakeshitdifferentat4am

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12. hi im looking for a wangxian fic i read a while ago and i cant find it so i forgot the name but i remember that lan wangji lost his golden core he was attacked by wen zhuliu on his way back to cloud recesses after he and wei ying were rescued from the xuanwu cave , he manages to kill wen zhuliu but he lost his core and wei ying was the one to find him. thats all i remember i hope you can help me find it . Thank you so much in advance.

FOUND? stay, fury, your wrist wrapped in silk by spookykingdomstarlight (E, 228k, WangXian, Graphic Depictions of Violence, Canon Divergence, YLLZ LWJ, LWJ loses his golden core, yiling wei sect, Hurt/Comfort, Heavy Angst, Major Character Injury, Injury Recovery, Temporary Character Death, War Crimes, Wen Remnant, WangXian Get a Happy Ending, Revenge, LWJ goes dark for a while, WWX has a hard time with the bad shit going on around him, JGS is a bastard, Protracted Sunshot Campaign, War is war and hell is hell and of the two war is a lot worse, temporary impotence, growing intimacy, LWJ & WWX and the Wen Remnant live in the Burial Mounds together, WWX travels with LWJ and stays at his side post-Sunshot, Spanish Translation)

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13. Hello! I've had this scene running through my head from a fic that I, for the life of me, can't find.

It's a canon divergence fic where WWX brings the Wens to Gusu and humanizes them to the rest of the cultivation world in the proceas. The fic talks about PTSD and I could have sworn I bookmarked it but here we are! The scene I can't forget is:

On the way there, WWX makes A-Yuan a whistle that he can blow whenever he's afraid. At first the whistle blows often, but eventually A-Yuan gets more comfortable.

Any help would be most appreciated, thank you! @theonlysureprediction

FOUND? Grave dirt by esama (T, 92k, WangXian, canon divergence, yiling wei sect au, demonic cultivation, farming, found family, pre-slash, politics, fix-it of sorts) The whistle part could be Grave dirt by Esama (chapter 2)

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14. heLLO its my first time doing this and ive no idea how tumblr works im usually just here to browse

anyways just the other day i read the desc of a fanfic where wwx was forced to top by a lz who was riding him and wwx was yelling hELP rAPE RAPE IM BEING RAPED lol

but i forgot to bookmark it and now i cant find it if you could help PLSS thank u ily guys🥺😭

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15. Okay so this will be for fic finder.

I swear I had this bookmarked but I spent 2 hours searching and can't find it at all.

What I remember is that wwx makes a clay doll for a-yuan. It falls into the lotus pond, but falls apart. A-yuan is distraught, of course. Sometime during the following night though wwx is woken up by a baby screaming. The burial mounds somehow turned the clay baby to a real baby girl. Wwx raises her and she ends up going to koi tower with him. I think wangji escorts wwx, the baby, and wen ning??

Please help me find this! @grainstealingthot

FOUND! An Old Cardboard Produce Box for a Cradle by julomaiboulomai, mischiefseven (T, 25k, WangXian, Accidental Baby Acquisition, Canon Divergence, Sentient Burial Mounds, Golden Core Reveal, Everyone Lives)

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16. for ficfinder

I swear I have thus marked some where but I just can't find it

it'd the fic where lsz/wen yuan has a twin who's raised by lwj and lwj n wwx think that the other twin died. it's a parent trap au @bunnycoffeeumcat

FOUND? 🔒❤️ kick at the darkness ‘til it bleeds daylight by AlfAlfAlfAlfAlf, tardigradeschool (T, 75k, WangXian, Hurt/Comfort, Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Eventual Happy Ending, Getting Together, Burial Mounds Settlement Days, Inspired by The Parent Trap (1998), Kid Fic, teen shenanigans, two a-yuans, Fluff and Angst, [Podfic] kick at the darkness ‘til it bleeds daylight by contributor-sky (deepestbluesky), esbielle was also here (esbielle), glittercracker, GodOfLaundryBaskets, jellyfishfire, kisahawklin, Koontyme, Rionaa, semperfiona))

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17. i have not used tumblr so sorry if i am asking in the wrong place- but i am going crazy trying to find this fic! it has some explicit scenes, it is an omega/alpha type fic, where alpha lan xichen and omega wei wuxian are married. alpha lan zhan lives with them, but struggles seeing/hearing their intimacy and closeness because he was attracted to wei ying on their first meeting. wei ying gets drunk and sleeps with lan zhan thinking hes lan huan twice while lan huan is gone, but claims to forget

FOUND? they call me homewrecker by sweetlolixo (E, 12k, XiXian, WangXian, Modern AU, Omegaverse, Dark LWJ, Dark WWX, Pining LWJ, Alpha LWJ, Omega WWX, Dubious Consent, Angst with a Happy Ending, Eventual WangXian)

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18. Hello, I have another request please, there was a modern day no powers fic where WWX was a baker, who also delivered his cakes, idk what kind of social media he had, because all I remember a girl was looking at his post and he leaned in and said smth like "that Yiling Patriarch is pretty cute" or smth, and there was a skateboard, maybe? That's all I got. Thank you so much!

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19. Hello!!! Thank you for your hard work!!!!

I'm looking for a fic where it mostly canon compliant but the only thing I vividly remember it's that when LWJ appear at the Mo Mansión to rescue the Junior it's that he has some grey/white hairs and maybe it was a omega verse (not very sure about that).

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20. Hi. I’ve been trying to find a fic where WWX decides to take the imperial examinations, live as a magical farmer in the south and later found out Wei Changze was the son of the Emperor and WWX ends up taking in the young princes for tutoring. Also I don’t remember how he meets LWJ but they ended up being engaged and the Emperor sends like Imperial Auditors to the sects because of what happened to his grandson… It may or may not be a time travel fix-it, can’t quite remember 😫 @skycookie472

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[skultyun]

⠀:¨ ·.· ¨:⠀

⠀ `· . ୨୧⠀ᯓ Bf!Yeonjun headcanons .ᐟ.ᐟ

❀༉‧₊˚ A mix of sfw and nsfw cuz I've been so down bad for a soft boyfriend jjunie recently..

Bf!yeonjun who always tends to your every need, whether it's relevant or irrelevant. You don't even have to lift a finger around him since he's already doing it before you. (Most of the time you don't have to ask, he already guessed what you want just by observing your every move.)

Many assume he's not the open-type of person when it comes to love, that he'd just be casual about it but no. HE'LL SHOW IT OFF TO EVERYONE. To the point you're known as the annoying lovey dovey couple because he won't stop giving you PDA

Princess treatment to the MAX. He'll prioritize your wants before his, just wants to give you everything in the world <//3

His hands are basically glued to your body, he just can't get them off you, either in a sexual or non-sexual way. He just wants to be feeling and touching you just because you're so warm and comforting.

Clingy and openly affectionate no matter the place and time, he keeps his hands interlocked with yours wherever you go, you know he likes to show you off and you don't mind. He's proud to be yours and you love it

If you ever got into an argument he's the first one to break, showing up at your door with a bouquet and bag full of your favorite snacks and a handwritten apology of how he's the worst boyfriend ever and he doesn't deserve you.

(NSFW BELOW.ᐟ.ᐟ)

Gets so soft during sex, and ten times more affectionate than ever, showers you with praises to make you feel comfortable as possible to being exposed to him like this.

Lets you take your time to adjust and is so patient. Guiding you through every step as if it's your first time.

He would let you take the lead most of the time if you wanted too, but if he really needs to take over then he'd gladly do it aswell.

Yeonjun is a service top. End of sentence.

His eyes are intently observing your every expression, finding what makes you feel good and your weak spots. Listening closely to your every sound he doesn't realize how loud he's being aswell.

His moans are the SEXIEST. You keep it in you not to tease him too much but you end up doing anyways because your so intrigued by his noises.

Fav position is definitely missionary. Just likes seeing your expression fall apart as he's hitting your deepest parts. Eyes rolling back with your mouth agape yup yup he did that

After you're both spent from hours of sex, he'll be the first to move and clean the two of you up, prepare a bath and clothes for you to sleep in, takes good care of you after he's ruined you with his dick.

But there are times where the two of you are completely exhausted out of your mind, then he'll just slang his arms across your body and pull you close, sleeping with you comfortably as you both rest in each other's arms, not caring about the sticky mess you made.

౨ৎ Overall I think yeonjun is more of a sweetheart than a tease, he's playful for sure but he's the type to be more kind and gentle towards you but acts silly around others, you were unsure of he really liked you or not because he might've been hiding his true self from you but you're absolutely wrong! He just likes you so much he just wants to shower you with love and affection only.

[persicipen]

₊ ˙ ⊹ . 𝓖𝒐𝒐𝒅 𝓑𝒊𝒓𝒕𝒉𝒅𝒂𝒚 𝓑𝒐𝒚. WRIOTHESLEY ₊ ˙ ⊹ .

ৎ୭ — · · 1.4k ノ gn reader — sweet intimate celebration of his birthday. subtle flirting (a failed attempt at doing so). established relationship. comforting fluff with hugs and giggles <3

The atmosphere in the Duke’s office is rather light-hearted and joyful, unlike the usual stern reputation of the Fortress. The steady hum of machinery beyond the thick walls buzzes along with the quiet crackle of a small, ornate heater placed in the corner — a luxury in the underwater prison.

The tea table is neatly set, the gleaming silver teapot releasing curling wisps of steam into the air, mingling with the earthy, spiced aroma of Chenyu Adeptea — a new blend being a part of your gift. Though muted in tone, you two celebrate this day with the gentle clink of porcelain teacups and muffled laughter. The sharp tang of the sea breeze and metallic rust replaced with a delicate sweetness that hints at the rare delight.

“Mittens, huh?”

It’s the low timbre of Wriothesley’s voice that breaks temporary silence, testing out the lovely other part of your gift, fingers examining the texture. He takes his time making sure they fit snugly, the pair of fine-woven mittens. Albeit he couldn’t care less about how they look.

“Well, it’s cold here in the Fortress, and the humidity makes it unbearable sometimes…”

“I will make great punches in these.” He says with a note of chuckle at the end, all while testing his grip in the fluffy covers on his hands. “Look at them, my new gloves to punish lawbreakers!”

The very image of Wriothesley imitating boxing punches with the fists wrapped in the softest of fabrics makes you giggle loud. Loud and clear, a sound he adores so much when it reverberates from the stone walls and metal pipes like delicate chimes in the wind. The sound he misses every single minute when you have to return above the sea waves.

His place has never felt this warm before, with the candles flickering on the curved desk, the tea table heavy from the gifts from the staff, and — last but not least — his heart is about to melt, a glowing cauldron of fondness for you. You are simply there, smiling back at him, raising the teacup in a silent toast for his birthday.

For someone who took this post in selfless service to the people and their safety, the fact that they all care so much — but none as much as you — makes him want to serve them twice as much. Maybe working in the Fortress, in this new home of his, isn’t that bad after all. No, not in the slightest. No worse than if he were to restart his entire life on the surface, in the society he doesn’t remember from his early years.

“Do you like them?”

You seem to notice the pause, the thoughtful gaze he shoots at the pair of mittens on his knuckles.

“A lot.” He responds softly, rubbing his thumb against the soft fabric. “They will serve me well.”

Butterflies dance in your stomach with each passing moment of admiring the way his hands seem so much more gentle than they appear to be, the touch not as hard and coarse as he puts it across. Though there is a hint of sadness, a lingering melancholy at the thought of how the roughness of his fingertips was created, the callouses on his palms a result of years and years of fighting.

“I’m happy you like them.” You say, leaning forward. “I was worried it wouldn’t be enough.”

“Enough?!” Wriothesley raises an eyebrow under the tuft of his cobalt bangs, perplexed. “Never in a thousand years could I ever deserve what you give me!” He holds his mitten-wrapped hands up just to make a point. “These? These are cute! I have never received fluffy gloves from anyone before. Not even once. This is so fun! You are the sweetest for coming up with this idea!”

The tenderness of his voice, almost desperate to show how much it all means to him — it’s silly, hilarious even that a small gift can make such a difference — the fondness pouring from his eyes, like he’s pouring liquid honey over your soul. You find yourself moving closer, drawn to him, craving his closeness. Craving to wrap your arms around his waist and find the steady thumping of his heart amidst all other background noises.

“Should we get you a pair for every winter month, then?” You joke, shyly leaning against him, carefully observing his reaction. “Who would’ve thought that the Duke of Meropide is such a sweetheart, hm? A good boy under those scary looks, all giddy over a colourful yarn.”

Wriothesley doesn’t answer at first, fighting off a boisterous laugh. His mind is racing in several different directions, struggling to form coherent thoughts under your touch. He sighs, gently enveloping you into his embrace and letting himself indulge in this feeling just for a little while longer. It is not enough to have these small moments when you visit him here, but he gladly accepts anything you offer him, secretly hoping there’s a chance you will stay with him longer this time.

Anything, a glimmer of hope.

And now you are saying all these sweet things…

“Why would you want to get me more when I can have you wrapped in my arms every winter?” He asks in the same tone you used earlier, with a barely audible chuckle at the end of the sentence. “You’re much warmer, you know.”

“Ah, you and your flirting out of nowhere! Just when I’m least prepared.” You shake your head, a smirk tugging at the corner of your lips to shake off the fire running to your face at his comment.

“Are you embarrassed now?” He smiles softly, his eyes glinting mischievously in the candlelight.

“No!” You pout, unwilling to admit how you do melt a little under his gaze. “I can flirt back too, if you wish.”

“Please.” He begs, chuckling as he says that. “Entertain me with your wits.”

He seems amused by this idea. Not in a teasing way, but rather playful, genuinely interested in what you are about to say. And so you give it a try, breathing in slowly to think of something… well, witty. Or at least funny enough to make him smile.

Obviously, as if asked to show your skills on request, your head is empty. This is embarrassing, not funny at all. But you cannot let him see that, trying to appear cool and nonchalant about it.

“Well, perhaps you’re right—” you begin, “you may have those fluffy mittens on your hands, but you will still need someone to warm up your heart.”

“I think I may be infected with a cold by now,” he replies, barely holding it together as he leans in for a bear hug, the entire lump of his large self covering you in hearty embrace. “I might need some extra cuddles.”

You squirm in his hold, pretending to struggle as if your plan is to run away — yet he knows well enough that it’s a playful ruse to get more affection out of him. He snuggles against your cheek, gently rubbing his nose against your skin. There is so much he wants to say, so many things that swirl in his head, and yet no words are uttered. He feels content to enjoy this moment with you.

No interruptions, no reminders that you have to return to the surface soon.

When Wriothesley lets go of you, his eyes fixate on the lines of your face, and your lips curl into a warm smile. His hands cup your cheeks gently, not wanting to ever let go. Your skin is soft under his touch, warm against the wool of the fluffy mittens. He traces the curves of your face with the gentleness of someone who is seeing you for the first time, every minute detail captured and studied. Every subtle feature — the glint in your eyes, the slight twitch of your mouth as you bite back a grin — he’s committing it all to memory.

“You are so beautiful,” he breathes out, his words hanging in the air between you like a thin thread of golden light. “I—”

“I love you more.” You interrupt him, stealing the kiss that was on the tip of his tongue, along with the confession.

Wriothesley lets out a pleased sound, almost like a low purr. The soft blush creeping onto his cheeks makes his face seem softer, somehow less threatening. The Duke of Meropide no longer towers over you like a mountain, but he is the most tender of the men. And you couldn’t have fallen in love with anyone else.

No, only with him.

“Happy birthday, Wriothesley.”

[cherry-smokes]

Winnebago

You and Steve are desperately pining over each other, all it takes is a near death experience and some eavesdropping to finally do something about it before it's too late. Steve Harrington x reader hurt/comfort Warnings: talks of blood, yearning and also this is my first blurb so proceed with caution.

Gruesome. Gnarly. Wrong. Just so wrong. Words flash through your mind, harsh and biting unlike your gentle hands as you tend to his wounds. It’s just not fair.

Steve, the most gentle man you know, shouldn’t have been torn to shreds by those things. You swear you could see the light flowing out of him along with his blood as you wrapped whatever shred of clothing it was that Nancy handed you around his waist.

You figure you should thank her for that. For her help. For granting you all the god given gift that is her mind. You swear you would if you could bear to look at her without feeling sick. It feels so ridiculous to be caught up with unrequited love in times like these. You've never felt more like a teenage girl in your life. When you aren't worried about keeping the gaggle of children you've essentially adopted at this point alive you're worried about Steve being dragged into what you can only consider the pits of hell. It's never ending. First it's the tunnels, then the Russians and now the fucking bats. He doesn't deserve that, he deserves the Winnebago.

The six kids, all probably with the same head of hair and freckles that mirror his. Warm soft eyes, that killer smile. You shouldn't have eavesdropped on his conversation with Nancy, you know that. As you cradled Max's head on your shoulder, ignoring the way her headphones dug into the bone there, you couldn't help but tune out Kate Bush and listen to what they said.

"Except for the six kids part- that sounds like...a total nightmare"

"If only I had some practice"

"I'm sure...it would be easier with some help."

Too caught up in trying to figure out if the sharp stinging pain you felt was coming from your stomach, chest or throat, you missed the way Steve glanced at you through the rear view mirror.

You miss the way he looks at you now. The RV is empty, everyone has retreated outside to prepare themselves for battle. Children all forced into a colosseum of horrors they should have never had to endure. For a moment, he doesn't think about that. He thinks about you. Your gentle hands. You've always been that way with him. He fears every day that he takes it for granted. He wasn't used to gentleness. Not from his father, not from his peers, not even from Nancy.

He looks at your hands, bloody and cracked. He thinks it's unfair. It's cruel that those hands that have only ever given out care and provided warmth have to be exposed to anything other than that. He thinks he would reach into the sun, melt his hands to the bone if it meant he could give you an ounce of its warmth.

"How is that, is it too tight?"

You gently lay your hands around the bandages you've wrapped around him as you ask the question, avoiding his gaze.

Steve shakes his head, soft strands of hair falling onto his face.

"No...that's good. It's a lot better than before, thank you"

He looks at your face as you start picking up the remnants of your care. Bloodied gauze pads you struggle to keep in your hands as they shake. He can't help but reach out for them.

"Hey, what is it-what's wrong?"

You finally look at him. His heart aches a terrible thing as he sees the glassy look in your eyes.

Your voice is soft, if he wasn't so close he probably wouldn't even hear you as you whisper.

"You scared me so bad."

You sound like a child when you say it. Unable to find more complex words to describe how you felt when all you could hear as you ran to him was screaming. When you saw him overwhelmed by those viscous, ravenous creatures.

Steve's hands move desperately to your face. Trying to wipe any ounce of distress away from it like he can't bear to see you look so sad a second longer.

"I know-I know I'm sorry. I'm okay, I'm here right?"

"I just-" Your words get caught in your throat. They come out thick with emotion and Steve's brows furrow together like his in pain. You take a deep breath, trying to ignore the way it makes your chest shake.

"I have this horrible feeling...that we aren't going to be as lucky this time"

"Don't- Don't say that."

Your hands reach up to cradle his own on your face. You try to burn the feeling of him into your memory. Just in case this is the last time you'll be able to feel them. Just in case you're about to ruin everything. You pull his hands away and hold them out in front of you, taking his face in. Bloody, grimy and bruised yet he looks just as beautiful as he always does.

"I heard what you said to Nancy earlier."

His heart sinks a little bit. He isn't sure why. He can't tell if he's embarrassed that you heard it, that you might think it's some stupid pipe dream you would never want any part of. Worse, he thinks about you wanting that. Wanting it with him, and something horrible happening that would tear that possibility away.

"Oh."

"I think if anyone deserves that Winnebago, the road trip...the family. I think it's you. Anyone would be lucky to get that with you."

There's that warmth again. Spreading across his chest and up to his cheeks as he flushes. He opens his mouth, he begs his brain to come up with anything to say but he can't. Not when the sun is setting behind you and he swears the way the light shines into the RV makes you look like an angel.

"I know...that you want that with someone. And I'm so sorry if this just ruins everything and you can't ever look at me the same after this but...I don't want to die-"

"I'm not going to let that happen-"

He doesn't just mean something happening to you. He wouldn't let anything ruin you two. Steve thinks he would wallow in pain and misery forever as long as he got to keep you. He wishes he had words to explain that to you, wishes he had been better in English so he could formulate poems and novels about how he feels about you.

"What if we can't stop it? I wouldn't be at peace if you didn't know. If something happens to me-and if there is a 'better place' out there...I hope I wake up in a Winnebago. On the shore somewhere sunny and warm. I hope you're there...and I hope you're surrounded by kids that look just like us."

He grabs desperately at your face. One of his hands reaching up to brush your hair out of your face.

"Why can't we have that in this life?"

You swear you can hear your heart pounding in your ears. You can feel the blood rushing through your veins and even so close to the possibility of death you've never felt more alive.

"Is that what you want?"

"Angel that's all I want"

You kiss his palms as he rests his forehead against yours. You pray to whatever force is out there that you have done enough good in this life to be granted a moment of peace in the sun when this is all over.

[ideas-4-stories]

Cross Guild Romance Idea: Established Crocohawk. Ever since Mihawk suggested that Biggy could be the figurehead of Cross Guild to keep the heat off of him and Crocodile, Buggy has this massive gratitude towards Hawkeye, and also admiration. While he is terrified of Crocodile, Buggy genuinely wants to make sure that Mihawk is happy on the island. Buggy personally makes sure that their is plenty of red wine, books, and also gets the best seeds for cabbages and other vegetables he can find. He leaves all of these things for Mihawk without making any flashing show of it. Not wanting to leave out Crocodile because he likes him too despite is terror, Buggy leaves him several of his own creature comforts as well. He always sneaks in while Mihawk and Crocodile are out and never says anything. Mihawk and Crocodile are suspicious but actually hold onto the gifts they get, because it is stuff they enjoy. They decided to stake out their residence and are stunned when they finally see Buggy sneak in and leave such lovely and thoughtful things for them all without any fanfare or note. Crocodile is all for confronting Buggy and wringing answers out of him since he's always suspicious but Mihawk talks in out of it, sensing Buggy's got no ill-intentions. Instead, Mihawk says that they should give to Buggy as good as he gives to them and see what happens. Buggy is stunned when he finds a bland new makeup kit waiting for him when he comes home from a long day, and the anonymous, thoughtful gifts start pouring in. They are courting without even realizing it, Mihawk and Crocodile deeply pleased by how they make Buggy glow with quiet happiness and Buggy overjoyed when Mihawk and Crocodile start being warmer to him. It culminates with Mihawk and Crocodile finally ambushing Buggy when Buggy's sneaking in to leave Mihawk his birthday present of this rare set of flower seeds and a gift of new cigars for Crocodile. Buggy turns to sneak back out only for come face to face with the former warlords. He's terrified he's gonna get trounced to a pulp, instead he's yanked off to bed so Mihawk and Crocodile can thank him properly and claim him for themselves. Even after they get together, the three of them keep giving each other things that made them think of the other.

That’s so sweet of Buggy, does Mihawk deserve those gifts? Not really, and definitely not Crocodile, but it's happening. The clown is making sure to note down anything that Crocodile and Mihawk seemed to like. Whether if they smile at it or say it'slvely and great. He's trying his best not to get presents the powerful duo don't like. Partly the reason he would straight-up hand over the gifts to Mihawk and Crocodile. Buggy has to keep himself safe in this dangerous game of breaking ‘n’ entering to gift presents to the two that beat him to a pulp often.

Although it seems to be happening less and less. Which in Buggy's books is flashy good thing to happen, so what does he do? Doubles the gifts in a week, instead of one or twice, it's more like two or three times a week. The clown is so happy with his ability to break in ‘n’ entering without ringing any alarms. But he isn't taking any chances in a way of doing when Crocodile and Mihawk are near. He likes this calmness between the trio.

Buggy hasn't told Alvida and Galfino about it because he doesn't want to earful that those two will give him. They might not help him when Mihawk and Crocodile hit him, but they can totally can stop Buggy before he does even more stupid things that would the two ex-Warlords pissed off. Buggy hasn't told Mohji or Richie because they might spill it to Crocodile and Mihawk by accident. But I'm sure he told Cabaji, swearing him on his Swordsman's Honor because he needs help to figure out what Mihawk and Crocodile likes. Poor Cabaji he so desperately wants to hold this over Mohji’s head but he can't. Which he doesn't like because he always likes to one up Mohji. Oh well, Cabaji can talk about it after this gets out.

Crocodile and Mihawk staking out to see who was gifting them presents. I'm sure Buggy won't go in unless he has more than 90% that Mihawk and Crocodile aren't in there. Unfortunately after this going on for a couple of months, Buggy getting a little bit comfortable doing all the breaking ‘n’ entering that he doesn't realize Crocodile and Mihawk. I'm sure the big old sandman was in his sand form wherever Mihawk decided to hide it… I really want to say coffin because that man would totally have one. But it wouldn't be big enough for both them… Where they would hide?

I'm thinking too much I to that, let's just say One Piece logic and continue on.

Mihawk decided ‘Hey, let's do it to him.’ is great, let Buggy guess and guess like they had to do before deciding to stake out to find the person. Poor Buggy is gonna be like that meme of ‘Calm, Panic, Calm, PANIC!’ He's still gonna use the makeup because someone broke into his tent to place it down. Crocodile and Mihawk are very pleased with how happy the clown is. So all three of them continue this game and it brings them closer (so great!)

RIP is what Buggy thinking for himself, not Rest in Peace, nah it's Rest in Pieces after they are done with him… But that didn't happen and he's kinda confused.

Love that they still give each other presents, probably still breaking ‘n’ entering each other's spaces to do so.

Sorry if the reply came so late and for how long it was, just had so much to say!

[5-puthyyy]

You're Looking A Little Green

AO3 LINK

Word Count: 5k

Summary:

Rio waits a moment, sniffing deeply then sighing out and nuzzling her nose to Agatha’s skin. Gods, she missed this scent of dark Magick, of lavender and honey, of maple trees and something so distinctly Agatha. “Tell me you want me.”

Agatha’s jaw tightens, though her head movement opens up more of her neck for Rio. “I don’t.”

The Green Witch chuckles, her soft lips brushing against Agatha’s sensitive skin. “Ah, ah, ah…what did I just say? No lies,” Rio’s hand digs into the curve of Agatha’s hip, “Tell me you want me…and not her.”

━━━━━━━━━▲━━━━━━━━━

Rio's drawn to the powerful Magick of the hex and finds Agatha flirting with a powerful witch that isn't her. I cannot be blamed for the filth that follows

WARNINGS! -- (18+ ONLY) SEXUAL CONTENT, CHOKING + BLOODPLAY + BREATHPLAY

Rio Vidal did not feel. She simply came into existence, filled with a singular purpose to collect the lost souls of the dead. Death was not made to feel. But, Gods, if anyone were to challenge the very rules of the universe, to disrupt the natural order of all things? Of course it would be Agatha Harkness. Who else?

She has to call it love because Agatha’s love is all she has ever known. It is cruel and gentle, angry and serene, it is wicked and sinister and everything in between. And Rio could not get enough of it, enough of her torturous little witch. It was one thing to use the Darkhold and hide from Death. Besides, she enjoyed the chase, the hunt, being the predator running after its prey. But what she could not stand was this.

Rio was drawn to the raw, chaotic magic of this place – what kind of all-powerful Green Witch would she be if she could not sense it? – and was unsurprised to see Agatha had found her way here too. Her clever girl could always sniff out power, always greedily eager to take as much as she could.

“Ridiculous,” Rio scoffs quietly, watching through the window of Wanda’s living room. She could do nothing but watch, the anger in her belly brewing into something even darker, dangerous, twisted and ugly. Jealousy.

That is one of the many emotions she had not felt until Agatha and she can wholeheartedly say it is the absolute worst one. Her black heart can stand heartache, can stand betrayal, can stand the endless torture of Agatha’s glare of hatred because those feelings had to come from somewhere. It has been a form of comfort to know after all these centuries she can still affect her witch, still make her feel, just as she makes Rio feel.

Jealousy is ugly. It makes her feel ugly, inside. It takes a blow at her security and makes her question herself, whether she is good enough for Agatha, whether the witch has decided to move on from her to someone solid, something real, something tangible and within her grasp. It is what she deserves, after all. Despite the playfulness, the chase, the books of history the two have together, Rio could never shake off the belief that Agatha will never truly want her for all she is. She cannot. Agatha hates that she wants Death, and that hatred will fester until there is nothing left. No love, no hate, just indifference.

“Do you really?” Rio recalls the first time Agatha told her how she felt for her, the two of them having floated around each other for weeks, a youthful, anxious mess, “Do you really love me, Agatha? Me?” Rio asked, voice shaking, hands trembling as she held Agatha’s blushing cheeks.

The witch sighed, a sound deep and upsetting that struck Rio uncomfortably. “I fear I do.” 

Fear. She feared it, hated it, did not want to feel what she felt. And Rio? Rio had not wanted a single thing since the beginning of time until she looked into Agatha’s eyes and decided she could not go on without having her. She loved her, wanted to be consumed by her, felt nothing but her.

It wasn’t until…until Nicky that it went terribly wrong and Rio saw their relationship for what it was. Agatha could not force her feelings to disappear, so she did, and she made it perfectly clear that she did not want Rio. But with their feud and many fights that inevitably led to Agatha’s teeth biting her lip until they tasted like copper, Rio realised that Agatha needed her. And Agatha hated Rio for it.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Rio is pulled out of her dark thoughts by an angry voice she cannot help but smile widely at.

“Hello, my love,” She greets Agatha smoothly, huffing as the angry woman grabs her by the arm and guides her across the lawn, around another house, and then into the quiet privacy of her four walls, “Hmm,” Rio takes in a deep breath of relief, her bones feeling more at ease in Agatha’s home. She can feel the thrum of her lover’s Magick in here, “I like it here. It tastes like you.”

Agatha grunts angrily, shoving a fist against Rio’s chest as the Green Witch licks at the air with wild and wide eyes. “You just couldn’t help yourself, could you? It is so on-brand for you to show up here and ruin everything for me.”

A sinister smirk splits across Death’s face. “Now why would I sit back and let you have all the fun?”

Agatha grunts yet again, this time stepping towards Death with a raised pointer finger. “This is more than just fun, Vidal, this could be–The power she has is–You know what she is. You can sense her Magick. This could change everything for me,” Agatha stutters her way through the sentence, clearly taking a more calculated route against this witch. Rio can see how serious this is to her, and she honestly had no plans to ruin it. All she wanted was to see her.

With soft eyes, Rio steps forward, her fingers daring to brush down Agatha’s jaw. “You are all I sense. Your Magick is all I ever want to taste.”

Agatha sucks in a sharp breath at the confession, never quiet growing used to Rio’s blunt nature. There are never any lies here, never a nervous thought that blocks the truth from tumbling out of her mouth. The honesty was always refreshing. But in moments like this, all it does is make Agatha want to kiss her until Death herserlf needs a breath of air to stay alive.

“Not now, Vidal,” Agatha replies coldly, forcing her eyes away from Rio’s impossibly sad ones. The power those eyes have had over her…

“Why don’t you want me?” Rio asks with a frown, crossing her arms over her chest, in typical Rio-fasion.

Agatha can’t help but scoff. “What is wrong with you?”

Rio’s face suddenly hardens in realisation, forcing distance between them as she steps back towards the door. “Do you want her? Is that it?” Rio doesn’t know why she asked. The very idea of answer that says to ‘yes’ has her first imagining she has insides and those insides are twisting like snakes.

“I want her power.”

At that, Rio growls a terrifying noise, deep and dark. “You want her! I saw the way you looked at her in there, Agatha,” She accuses, unable to shift the images out of her head. She watched them through the window: she cannot forget Agatha’s easy smile, so carefree and playful; the light touch of Wanda’s hand brushing Agatha’s hand; the blush tinting Agatha’s cheek.

Her witch suddenly smiles knowingly, eyes low as she tilts her head. “Oh, honey…” she mumbles in fake sympathy, holding Rio’s chin in her hand, “You’re looking a little green,” she spits out, her hold tightening.

Rio gulps, always being one to submit to that storm in Agatha’s deep blue eyes. “Well, I am the Green Witch,” she mutters rather weakly, huffing at the flash of amusement reflecting back at her.

“You are.” 

Rio straightens her back. “I am.”

“You’re Death.”

She glares darkly. “I am.”

“Her power is no match for yours.”

Rio growls, teeth snapping at the woman still holding her chin like a pup. “It’s not.”

Agatha raises a brow “No?” she says infantalisingly. 

“No being is more powerful than me,” Rio declares, flipping the two of them around.

Agatha gasps as her back is pushed against the front door. “So act like it,” she demands, raising a leg until her thigh is pressed against Rio’s, “Sulking at me, pouting like a sad puppy…” Agatha pouts mockingly, cackling at Rio’s huff and glare, “Here I was thinking you couldn’t get more pathetic chasing me around when I clearly don’t want to be found.”

“Oh yeah?” Rio’s eyes flick to the basement where she knows Ralph’s dead body is, “Explain him,” she asks with a smirk. This has always been their game. Kill, collect, fuck, over and over again, because that is the only line of intimacy Agatha is comfortable with, all Rio can take.

“I kill because I want to, not because I want you.”

Rio can see the quiver of her lip, the twitch of her brow. It’s subtle but she knows her witch by now. “Hmm…” she hums before leaning in to breath against Agatha’s ear, “Okay, Agatha. Have it your way. Be in control.” 

Agatha wavers at this, suddenly shoving Rio back. “I am,” she defends herself, marching off to the kitchen.

Rio follows, keeping enough distance to make Agatha uncomfortable. She knows how much her witch hates being observed. “Sure you are.”

Agatha spills the water she tries to pour into a glass, grunting in frustration as she slams her fist against the countertop. “Are you that jealous?” She snaps her head to Rio, turning on the attack, “God, you’re so desperate you need to tell yourself this lie to fuel that delusion in your head. I do not kill for you, Rio. I have not killed for you in deca–”

“Do you remember the first time?” Rio interrupts her casually, leaning against the fridge door, “You were so nervous to present me with that old witch’s soul. A gift, you said, remember? For me…” Rio’s words slip out like honey, sultry and smooth, “Courting Lady Death herself, you said.”

Agatha scoffs, arms crossing over her chest. “I say a lot of things.”

“And not a single lie. Not to me,” Rio manages to lower her voice even more, almost down to a whisper. The husk is something Agatha always struggled to resist, but she does her very best to deflect.

“How would you know?” Agatha snaps defensively but Rio sees right through her.

“Hmm,” she hummed, stepping close enough for her nose to brush against the back of Agatha’s pale neck, “Tell me.”

Agatha sucks in a breath. “Tell you what?” she whispers back, nails digging into her palms as a last resort, screaming inwardly to keep her hands to herself.

Rio waits a moment, sniffing deeply then sighing out and nuzzling her nose to Agatha’s skin. Gods, she missed this scent of dark Magick, of lavender and honey, of maple trees and something so distinctly Agatha. “Tell me you want me.”

Agatha’s jaw tightens, though her head movement opens up more of her neck for Rio. “I don’t.”

The Green Witch chuckles, her soft lips brushing against Agatha’s sensitive skin. “Ah, ah, ah…what did I just say? No lies,” Rio’s hand digs into the curve of Agatha’s hip, “Tell me you want me…and not her.”

At those words, Agatha allows one moment. Just one moment of vulnerability where she holds Rio’s freezing cheek in her hand, lets Death lean into her touch. She sheds a cold layer away from her harsh eyes, the last cloud of the storm fading to bring forth the Sun. Rio takes it all in, soaks as much of Agatha as she can before the inevitable goodbye.

“Show me,” Agatha says instead, breaking the silence as she pulls Rio’s face close to hers, “Show me why I should want you.”

Rio has never been one to back down from a challenge; a soft smirk stretches her lips before she finally attaches their lips together. She can count the exact amount of hours, weeks, years since their last kiss. Agatha was in her leather phase then, her hair curled with a rebellious purple streak. Each first kiss ignites that same fire within her, just like the first time they ever kissed all those centuries ago. 

“I will never tire of kiss–”

Agatha rolls her eyes at Rio’s interruption. “None of that today. You want to be jealous? Show me just how possessive you can get.”

Rio frowns at this, brushing her nose against Agatha’s softly. She misses her dearly, so intensely that her hollow chest aches from being far from her.

Agatha can see the conflict written over Rio’s face and knows the one thing she can say to flip that switch. With a wicked smirk, she shoves Rio’s chest again hard enough for her to stumble back.

“If you can’t, I’m sure Wanda wouldn’t mind helping her neighbo–”

Before she could even finish, Rio’s hand gripped her neck and shoved her against the fridge. A filthy moan escaped her throat before she could control it, which would typically please Rio but the Green Witch could see nothing but red at this moment. 

“Say her name again, Agatha. Go on.” Rio plays with her prey, fingers tightening their grip as her other hand dug painfully into Agatha’s side.

“Mmm, why, I’m tempted, so tempted,” the witch teases, chuckling darkly with purple swirls in her eyes, still trying to take back a little control, “If you don’t fuck me hard enough, I may even think about her.”

Rio slams her lips to Agatha’s in a brutal, angry kiss. She shoves her invading tongue into the witch’s gasping mouth with no warning, attacking, claiming, swiping every surface she can. Every action screams possessiveness; she needs Agatha to know who she belongs to, who she will always belong to.

Nails scratch along Agatha’s stomach as she pulls her shirt up, lifting until it’s covering her face. Before Agatha can take it off, Rio’s lips are already attacking her new skin. She mouths at the top of her full breasts still covered by a forest-green lacy bra.

“Wow,” Rio suddenly chuckles, pulling the strap with her teeth until it snaps back against Agatha’s reddening skin, “You wore this for me. You knew I was coming the moment you killed that man, didn’t you?”

Agatha huffs, finally dragging her shirt over her head, her hair a dishevelled nest which makes her look even more alluring. “Oh, you wish,” she denies, but her eyes say otherwise, refusing to hold contact with Rio’s for more than a second.

The Green Witch remains consistent in her gaze, twisting her head to catch Agatha out in her movements. “You expect me to believe you just happened to be wearing my favourite colour?”

“It happens to be Wan–” Agatha’s words are swallowed up by Rio’s tongue again, this time paired with hands that rip her bra to the ground and immediately squeeze as if claiming her new territory. Agatha knows Rio will take her right then and there if she wanted to, but she was still wary of this sitcom reality and how much of this Wanda can really see. She did place her runes very carefully but that witch’s power is unimaginable chaos. “Maybe we should–”

“Shut up,” Rio’s tone drips with authority as she pinches Agatha’s hard bud. Her face flickers to her true form for a moment, the dangerous look being enough to send a quick heat between Agatha’s legs.

Agatha utters no other word, just a frustrated groan at herself for reacting this way to Rio. It’s a hopeless feeling knowing there was nothing that made her weak but her.

“Spread them.”

Agatha clenches her jaw as she reluctantly spreads her legs apart. Rio sends a pleased smirk her way, those chocolate eyes darkened with desire.

“Good girl.”

Agatha bites her bottom lip hard to suppress the downright pathetic moan, but a whine slips out widening Rio’s already cocky smile. The embarrassed witch turns her head away but Rio forces it back with a flick of her fingers, black and green tendrils of Magick finally making an appearance.

Runes won’t work on her. Agatha found that one out the hard way a few decades ago, a rookie mistake which ended with Agatha tied in the air, high and not-so-dry. But that’s a story for another time.

Agatha arches her back into the touch, making an executive decision that if she is to play with Rio, she will be the one manipulating Death into doing what she wants. “I’m always good for you, sweetheart. Why don’t you feel how good I am?” Agatha husks seductively, biting her bottom lip in the way she knows drives Rio to madness.

Death pants at the shift, feeling Agatha spread her legs further apart, begging for her touch. “Wicked…” Rio mumbles as she buries her face in Agatha’s chest right between her breasts. The woman is quick to push them together, using herself to gently push Rio over the edge of control. “Fuck, you’re sexy,” Rio moans into her chest, licking, biting, sucking as she claims her. It only takes a moment for her hand to leave Agatha’s hip and slither between her legs. She teases over the lace, both of them sighing at the first touch.

“That’s right, baby, feel me, take me,” Agatha chants and pants, covering Rio’s hand with one of hers. The latter presses her thumb to Agatha’s clit, leaning back up to swallow her gasp. They kiss languidly as she lazily trails her thumb up and down, feeling Agatha get wetter by the second as their tongues glide together. Gods, she loves kissing this woman. Kissing Agatha is the closest Rio will ever get to Heaven.

Soon enough, though, Agatha’s patience runs thin and she shoves her own panties to the side. Rio feels that slickness on her fingers immediately, growling into Agatha’s lips. She bites at her wicked witch’s bottom lip once in punishment before descending to her knees.

Agatha tries to resist making a comment, really, she uses all her willpower. But Rio looks up at her with such adoration, eyes as wide as a puppy’s. It’s so pathetically cute.

“I knew you’d end up on your knees for me. You always do,” she tries to soften the blow with a gentle finger brushing the hair out of Rio’s eyes, but it does nothing to soothe the now angry witch. Suddenly, Agatha’s hands fly up, wrists bound against the fridge with Magick. “Come on, play fair.”

“You want to talk about fair?” Rio huffs, shaking her head as she decides not to tread on this topic. Instead, she focuses on the glistening mess in front of her. She drags Agatha’s panties to the floor, practically salivating by the time she’s done. Though she wants nothing more than to have that delicate slick on her tongue, she needs to punish Agatha, needs to make her want her, make her beg.

Rio starts slow with a wet, delicate kiss to the inside of Agatha’s thigh. It immediately quivers at the touch, Agatha attempting to spread her legs further to entice the tortuous witch into giving her what she wants. But Rio remains strong, grounding herself with the taste of Agatha’s slick that dripped down to her thighs. She glides her tongue over, moaning at the taste, circling her skin, painting out her name over and over again. The moment Agatha growls in frustration, Rio’s there to bite down hard enough to bruise, silencing the witch. It’s a warning, a shout to be patient or else.

“Will you be good for me?” Rio asks as she looks up, her eyes dilated and high on the power she has over Agatha.

“I thought you called me a good girl,” Agatha rebuttals, voice trembling slightly though still filled with sass.

Rio pretends to contemplate for a moment. “I suppose I did. But I think a real good girl would beg. Wouldn’t you agree, sweetheart?”

Agatha doesn’t bother hiding her reaction to this, bursting out into laughter at the audacity. Her? Beg? She hasn’t begged for Rio since before– “No.”

Rio lifts a brow, fingers tightening around Agatha’s thigh. “No?” Agatha stands firm in her answer, a seriousness in her eyes that Rio can’t help but shake her head at. Her stubborn little witch. “Fine, Agatha. Have it your way.”

The first swipe of her tongue transports Agatha to another fucking universe. Blue eyes immediately disappear into her skull; her heart catches up in her throat at the sensation; her legs lose all control and she’s sure she’d be on the ground if it weren’t for the Magick binding her wrists. She has always been loud, proudly so, and this is no different. Screw Wanda. Let her hear.

“Fuck, yes, fucking finally,” she whines, moans filthily, rolling her hips to the rhythm Rio sets.

Fuck control, Rio thinks. Fuck it all; this is real power. Having Agatha like this, hearing her like this, being the one to string these sounds out of her. This is fucking power.

She slides her tongue expertly through Agatha’s folds, circling her clit but refusing to touch it yet. She teases as much as she can, feeling gush after gush of wetness and bringing her tongue back down to lick up as much as she can. Her tongue traces along Agatha’s entrance, teasing for a moment, waiting, waiting…

“Rio,”

Her name. Her actual name, not Vidal, not Death, not sweetheart or baby or whatever diversion. Rio.

Without a second to waste, she thrusts her tongue up, immediately moaning at the throb of Agatha’s tight, wet walls.

“Rio, fuck, oh fuck, don’t you dare stop,” her goddess of a witch moans above her and Rio looks up with eyes filled with worship. What she would do to this woman, for this woman, what she had already done. She will spend eternity wanting nothing but her.

Rio thrusts, twists, curls her tongue until Agatha is writhing, rolling her hips, begging with her body. She waits until that moment, until she tightens just so, before Rio pulls back completely.

Agatha immediately groans at the feeling, almost predicting it. Her groan twists into a frustrated, angry scream, face and cheeks red, eyes wild as she glares down. “Fuck you!”

Rio’s eyes darken as she slowly ascends. “Watch your fucking tongue,” she warns, voice low, controlling.

Agatha leans towards the danger. “Why don’t you make me?”

“I think you’ll beg me to make you.”

Agatha laughs at this again, her need to retain control and protect her ego too high. “This again? I’d sooner let you leave me like this than beg for you to–” Her words catch in her throat as soon as she feels something familiar pressed against her thigh. Agatha doesn’t need to look down to know what it is.

“Cat got your tongue?” Rio smirks that fucking smirk, victory already in her eyes. “You know which one it is?”

Agatha gulps, her teeth pressed together hard. Of fucking course she knew which one it was. It’s the only one Rio would use. Dark green, deliciously thick, just long enough to hit that one spot that sends Agatha over Mount Everest, and, the most important part…it’s enchanted.

Rio can feel every little touch.

“You sure you don’t want to beg?” Rio tempts her again, this time adjusting between Agatha’s legs so the length of her strap presses against Agatha’s slick heat. They both grunt at the feeling, their mouths an inch apart.

Agatha breathes in a laugh. “You’ll be the one begging in a minute, hun.”

“Oh, yeah?” Rio pants, starting a slow grind. It was a calculated risk, snapping her for this strap to appear. It drove the both of them mad, Rio already feeling her grip over her self-control loosening. Agatha felt so fucking warm, so wet. Rio’s mind is filled with memories of her heat, nights spent pressed so close together she’s shocked their Magick never somehow merged them into one. She craves that closeness with her again.

Agatha twists her hips as subtly as she can, trying to get it to slip in as Rio distracts herself with dirty thoughts. “Don’t you want to feel me, baby? Don’t you miss it? Miss…me?”

Rio groans, the sound a mix of pain, want, sadness, joy, everything. Agatha makes her feel it all. She pulls back suddenly, eyes wildly pulsing with desire as she looks over Agatha’s marked body.

Agatha recognises that look of possession. “That’s right, sweetheart. If you want me to be yours, all you have to do is take me.”

Rio only had one card left up her sleeve, and it better fucking work because Agatha uses her words to play Rio like a fucking fiddle. She knew exactly what to say, when to say it, and what it was going to get her. Using her bodily strength this time, Rio unbinds Agatha’s wrists and spins her around. Within seconds, the witch is bent over the kitchen island, back arched, legs spread obediently for Rio.

“Shit.”

Rio smirks, immediately dropping a hand to spank a pale cheek. Agatha moans loud and open, greedily pushing her ass back for more. Rio gives her nothing, though, only scraping her nails along pale skin.

“Rio,” Agatha warns through gritted teeth, gasping as Rio teases her with the head of her strap. It presses against her entrance, pushing that tiny bit through before pulling back completely. “Rio!” she scolds, feeling desperation crawl up her throat. She wants to be filled by her so badly, craves it, misses it dearly. It’s always been her darkest, deepest desire, to be taken and used, treated like meat and bones by Lady Death herself. And that fucking witch knows it.

“You know what to say, Agatha. Good girls get what they want.”

Rio teases her strap again, grinding her teeth together to hold back her own moans at the feeling of that wet slick dripping over her head. It’s so simple for Agatha to say one word, one fucking word just so Rio could sink into that heat and never fucking leave. Gods, she loves her stubborn witch.

“Fuck, okay, just fucking fuck me! I want you to fuck me!” Agatha yells out, fingers gripping the edge of the island, turning whiter by the second.

With that, Rio thrusts hard, deep, whimpering at the sudden tightness, moaning with her lover as she screams in pleasure at the invasion. But she stills after that.

Agatha feels so fucking full, hasn’t felt this full in years; it’s exhilarating, it’s endless pleasure and pressure, it’s that maddening stretch that has her panting like she’s in heat. But Rio won’t fucking move. “Move. Fuck, Rio, you can move, baby,” Agatha says, reassures, letting Rio know she doesn’t need a moment of adjustment.

But the Green Witch has outdone herself today with her tricks and self-control. “I don’t think I heard you say it yet,” she husks, chuckling wickedly into Agatha’s ear as she presses up against her. Her hips are too close to Agatha’s for the witch’s hip movements to do anything and it has her almost sobbing in frustration.

“Rio,” she pleads, her tone sounding far less controlled, the sass almost gone completely. 

“You have two choices, my love,” Rio risks her choice of words, knowing so when Agatha freezes completely, “You can either say the magic word now, or I can fuck you until you’re screaming and leave you just as you’re about to–”

“Please,” Agatha breathes out, so soft Rio almost misses it. Rio freezes, not expecting Agatha to give in that easily. But Agatha takes her lack of response as a want for more, and she can’t risk the second option. She can’t. “Rio, please, I…I need you, my love.”

My love. Love, love, love…

Rio breathes out shakily, failing at shoving the feeling inside her chest away. She embraces it instead, gripping Agatha’s hips with strong, controlling hands. “I got you,” she whispers soothingly, pulling her hips back, groaning at the delicious drag of those tight, wet walls. “I got you, baby.”

Agatha won’t sob, she won’t, but she’ll shake, and she’ll whimper and whine, and she’ll bite down on her hand so fucking hard she draws blood. She lets her body go, trusting Rio’s hands to hold her, to control her hips, her pleasure. It feels like she’s floating as Rio rolls her hips over and over again, moaning behind her, whispering soft praises. It must be Magick, she thinks, to feel this way. To feel so free yet controlled at once.

She moans greedily at every thrust, begging for Rio to go, “Harder, fuck, please,” and “Faster, just like that, fuck, please don’t stop,” as she’s pushed closer and closer to the edge. She was close enough with Rio’s tongue inside, but this? Being filled and stretched to her limits, and hearing Rio’s loud, untamed moans of pleasure behind her knowing she can feel every inch of Agatha wrapped around her soul? Nothing could beat this feeling.

“Tell me,” Rio suddenly demands, her mouth to Agatha’s ear, panting filthily, biting on her earlobe. “Fucking tell me, Agatha,” she growls into her ear, teeth sinking into her neck, tongue licking the blood, lips sucking until she’s marked bright and red. 

Without another thought in her head, Agatha pants as she’s pushed back and forth by Rio’s hardening thrusts. “I want you.”

“Again,” Rio demands, groaning as Agatha’s walls tighten at the authority in her tone.

She’s weightless, her mind knowing nothing but Rio, her body feeling nothing but Rio; Rio’s strap buried deep inside her, stretching her walls so painfully good; Rio’s nipples, hard as they brush against her back; Rio’s hand suddenly creeping up and around, gripping her throat giving her that thrill of danger. All she can taste is Rio on her tongue, Rio’s Magick, Rio’s hot breath against her neck, can smell the scent of death and soil, fresh grass and the smallest hint of jasmine. She knows with every bone in her body that she belongs to Rio and she always will. She cannot escape Death.

“I want you,” she pants, her tone leaving no room for doubt, “I want you, Rio, I want you, only you, always you, I want–” She’s unsure if she can’t speak because of the intense wave of pleasure that hits her when Rio’s other hand sneaks between her legs and thumbs at her clit, or if the pressure of Rio’s grip around her back took her breath away. All she knows is Rio.

The ringing in her ear doesn’t cease as her eyes roll to the back of her head, body shaking, trembling as Rio ignores her, continues thrusting as hard and fast she can. In Agatha’s haze of pleasure, she realises Rio’s using her to chase her own high and that only pushes Agatha over the edge again. She can’t stop falling, can’t stop the guttural, almost animalistic moans from echoing in the space. The only thing that grounds her is Rio’s safe hands, Rio’s erratic, high moans as she thrusts faster and faster until her hips still, pressed to the brim inside Agatha’s pulsing walls. 

Her eyes close at some point. She’s still in the same position, Rio’s still buried deep inside her. But she’s holding her, still, face pressed into the back of her neck as her body shakes gently. She’s crying, Agatha realises. And she blames this moment of vulnerability for the tight, sad feeling in her chest at the sound. She knows how badly her love wants to be with her, knows how much it is killing her to be apart, knows of the torturous pain.

Agatha sighs, pressing her cheek to the cold marble of the island. 

Death comes for us all. 

Well…she comes for Agatha the most.

masterlist + guidelines

this is so filthy im embarassed anyway

[mcjhay]

I will never change my personality to make someone love me. I am who I am, and I refuse to reshape myself to fit into someone else's expectations or standards of love. True love, the kind that lasts, isn't built on pretense or falsehoods. It's built on authenticity, on being accepted for exactly who you are, flaws and all. And if someone can't love me for the person I am, then that love isn't meant for me.

I've come too far in life to lose myself trying to gain someone else's approval. I've learned that pretending to be someone I'm not only leads to pain, emptiness, and a hollow version of myself. My personality is not a costume I can take on and off to please others; it's the very essence of who I am. It's shaped by my experiences, my values, my passions, and my beliefs. To change that would be to deny everything that makes me unique, everything that makes me me.

I am not perfect—| don't claim to be. I have my quirks, my flaws, and my vulnerabilities. But I also have my strengths, my kindness, and my unwavering capacity to love deeply and genuinely. I know my worth, and I know that I deserve to be loved for the person I truly am, not for some version of me that conforms to someone else's idea of perfection.

If I have to change my personality to make someone love me, then that love isn't real. Real love doesn't demand that I silence my voice, dull my light, or hide the parts of myself that make me different. Real love celebrates those differences, embraces them, and sees them as beautiful. It's about two people coming together as they are, without masks or pretenses, and choosing to love one another fully and unconditionally. I've learned that trying to change for someone else only leads to losing myself. It leaves me questioning my own worth, doubting my own value, and wondering why I wasn't "enough" just as I am. But the truth is, l am enough. l've always been enough. And the right person—the one who truly sees me will know that. They'll love me not despite my personality but because of it.

So I won't apologize for being me. I won't apologize for my sensitivity, my passion, my honesty, or my quirks. I won't tone myself down to make someone more comfortable, and I won't pretend to be something I'm not just to earn someone's affection. If I'm too much for someone, then they're simply not the person for me. And that's okay, because I'd rather be alone and true to myself than surrounded by people who only love a version of me that isn't real.

I will stay true to who I am because I believe that the right kind of love—the kind that lasts and fulfills—is built on honesty and authenticity. It's built on two people seeing each other completely, flaws and all, and choosing to love each other anyway. I know that kind of love exists, and I know it's worth waiting for. So no, I will never change my personality to make someone love me. I deserve a love that accepts me, cherishes me, and values me for exactly who I am. And until I find that love, I will keep being me, unapologetically and wholeheartedly. Because the right person won't ask me to change—they'll love me for exactly who I am. And that kind of love is the only kind worth having. May those of us who are single find true love❤️

[wings-flames-and-thirium]

I love it when songs remind me of my favorite ship so please have this:

Imagine Hank introducing Connor to more music and one day when they go through Hank's collection this song comes up:

Connor, still getting accustomed to deviancy, does what he always does when confronted with something new: analyzing. He goes through the lyrics of each verse as they come and he discovers that they speak to him in a way he can't describe. One part especially had his interest peaked when he heard Hank sing along to it softly.

"I do believe it's true That there are roads left in both of our shoes But if the silence takes you Then I hope it takes me too So brown eyes, I hold you near 'Cause you're the only song I want to hear A melody softly soaring through my atmosphere"

As they continued to listen, Connor made the decision to temporarily drown out the singer's voice in favor of hearing Hank sing while he constructed a scenario in his mind of him and Hank dancing while Hank repeated the sentence "So brown eyes, I hold you near, 'cause you're the only song I want to hear". Connor imagined these brown eyes that Hank got lost in being his own.

When the song finally ends, Connor is ripped from his daydream as Hank asks: "So, what do you think of this one?"

After some thought, he answered: "I think I like it" with a gentle smile.

The two repeatedly listen to this song as their relationship blossoms over time. It became a comfort for both of them during difficult times. For times when Hank relapsed, or times when Connor had trouble adjusting to his new feelings. They would come together or one of them would pull to other up to just sway together to the song when they needed to hold each other and be close.

Eventually, Connor's opinion of the song shifted from "I like it" to "I love it". "I love it" turned into "This is my favorite song" and one day, his opinion turned into a question: "Can this play on our wedding day?"

[bunisher]

might be the aro in me but i think one of the reasons i don’t ship mattfoggy is because i enjoy the idea of platonic intimacy and friendship without romance. i enjoy them as best friends, because their friendship is not any less than romantic love or needs to be. especially for characters like them, i think it’s important that they have friendships that are not inherently romantic. matt, because he has severe abandonment trauma and avoidant attachment, where all of his romances have ended in some form of tragedy. he has trouble feeling comfortable with people, he feels like he has to perform in many aspects, and does not with foggy, at least not anymore. trust is a hard earned thing with him, but it’s not just about trusting with being a hero, but trusting to be himself. in regards to foggy, because he also has his own issues regarding family and not feeling accepted. he needs that friend who provides the motivation, validation, and feeling of being good enough just for being him. his insecurities often come from being underestimated, being awkward, not fitting in, and with matt he can just be. they’re able to have a relationship with each other that has rupture and repair, knowing eventually after time it’s them against conflict and not them against each other. they set the standard for each other in how romantic relationships are. they provide that safe place for love that doesn’t have the weight of being someone’s everything or partner. they’re already partners! they’re best friends. i personally am a little in love with all of my friends, and i am utterly devoted to them. i will be affectionate and supportive and loving and i am not dating them. so yeah i see how stuff could be read romantic, i understand why people enjoy the ship, i get it, i do. but it’s more powerful to me when it’s not. romance is not the end all be all and that’s why i am obsessed with their friendship without it being this stepping stone for romance or there being no other explanation.

[volivolition]

wiggles my fingers at you ouuuu… you want to tell me about solace so bad…

HKJGG wiggles my fingers back lovingly!!! i really do, i fuckin LOVE solace :3 hey did you know i really like making fake skill descriptions?

SOLACE

Follow the north star. Find light in even the darkest places. Cool for: Optimists, Recovering lost souls, Sweet summer children

Solace is the skill you tucked away long ago, at the bottom of Pandora's box. The little one that tells you: despite it all, there is still hope. It needs a lot of nurturing -- and it's far from being the most helpful for police work -- but taking care of it is basically self-care. It enables you to find the glow in yourself that you often ascribe to gold lungs or brilliant halos in others. It encourages you to wake up and watch the sunrise, to play board games with someone you love, to forgive yourself and let yourself be a gentler kind of animal. Constantly looking forward to a brighter future, it also helps shield your morale from damage.

At high levels, Solace gives you a heightened sense of childlike optimism - which isn't always the sense to lead with in this precariously harsh world. Always looking for the bright side will blindside you with naivety. At low levels, however, you may just extinguish whatever keeps your soul alight. You've already lost her once. You may not survive the desolation if you let her disappear again.

[latenightsundayblues]

I want more "bad" LGBT representation in media. Not the harmful stereotyping kinda bad, but a "most horrible fucking people on earth get together to wreak havoc upon each other's lives and actively deteriorate their mental health in a jumbled co-dependent mess of arguments and hatefucking only they could call a relationship" kinda bad yknow. Like completely fucked up for everyone involved in the narrative. I need it to live actually

[annachum]

It is not Cosette's fault that she gets her entire existence rescued by Valjean.

It is not her fault that she gets a fine education in a convent school and taught by a group of nuns

It's not her fault that she has friends from that convent school, whom I bet formed a strong sisterhood with Cosette and still in contact with them even after Valjean and Cosette left the convent.

It's not her fault that she gets to live in a nice house in a Parisian suburban neighborhood after she left the convent, coupled with a garden teeming with pretty florals and plants, and a public park nearby.

It's not her fault that she gets to wear fashionable clothes of her time and wear quality accessories in post convent Eras.

And it is certainly not her fault that she gets to marry the man of her dreams.

So please, ladies and gentlemen, if you still bash Cosette, who absolutely deserved all those wonderful things happening to her after all the poverty and abuse she endured as a little child, Fantine, Marius, Valjean and all of her friends and cohorts over the years would be very disappointed in you.

[helpimstuckinafandom]

JUSTICE FOR DAVINA CLAIRE I'M SO FUCKING SERIOUS FUCK OFF OH MY FUCKING GOD

[synonymroll648]

absolutely evil fic idea! sophitz soulmates au where post-war they reconcile but also find out that fitz won't make it to 100 due to the severity of his shadowflux echoes and the reason sophie kept surviving seemingly impossible odds was because the black swan 'accidentally' made her immortal.

to make things extra cruel: consider how fitz canonically counts on having thousands of years ahead of him to build himself a future he enjoys, and how sophie canonically struggles w/ the idea of living forever due to her human upbringing (plus the canon-compliant possibility of her hearing ten bajillion tales growing up of how immortality is a curse) :D

[kittytheartist]

IM GOING INSANE OVER TERUKANE RN GUYSS!!!!!!!!!

[teethr0t]

there needs to be more arafef art NOW !! ( THROWS EVERYTHING ACROSS THE ROOM WITH MY MIND )