#this has been in my brain for way too long
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A dance with death (and her wife) (Part 1)
@lanfear-is-my-darkmistress
You are a profiler for the FBI when you get called to help catch a serial killer in Westview. (Killing Eve/Hannibal AU)
Word count: 4200
Warnings: descriptions of violence, fear
The phone rings at 7:30 in the morning on your day off and you want to throw it against the wall.
You had been sleeping – having a very good dream, actually – when the harsh ringtone roughly jolts you out of your slumber.
“Hello?” you answer groggily, rubbing your face with your hand. If it’s a spam call, you think you might lose your mind.
“Is this Agent Y/L/N?” A gruff voice asks and you shoot up out of bed into the sitting position.
You clear your throat and try to sound professional. “Um, yes, this is she. Who am I speaking with?”
“This is Director Hayward,” the man says, and your eyes widen. The head of the FBI is calling you. “Have you heard of the town of Westview?”
Your forehead wrinkles while you rack your brain for anything that sounds familiar. “No, sir, I don’t think so.”
There’s muffled sounds from the other side of the phone and then you can hear Director Hayward clearly. “It’s a small town in New Jersey. Nothing special, nothing too out of the ordinary.” He pauses like you’re supposed to recognize it, but after a moment of silence he sighs and continues. “About seven months ago, we believe a pair of serial killers moved into town. Bodies started piling up, seemingly no rhyme or reason to who was killed, only that the victims were all female.”
“Okay,” you say slowly, trying to wrap your head around all this. If it’s been going on for this long, why haven’t you heard about it? “Are we sure they’re connected if there’s no pattern of victim? Usually men have a type when they do this kind of thing; the women usually look like an ex-lover who broke their heart, or their mom.”
You can practically hear him roll his eyes through the phone. “They were all killed the same way: poison to sedate them and then their hearts were carved out. And there was a purple azalea left in every single one of the victims’ chest cavities. So we’re pretty sure they’re connected.” Sarcasm drips copiously from his tone and you wince. Way to make a good first impression on the director of the FBI. “And it’s not a man. It’s a woman.”
This makes you perk up with interest. “Oh?” As a profiler for a branch of the FBI in Miami, you’ve handled your fair share of serial killers. It may make you sound insensitive, but you were only really interested in the female ones. Men were so boring and predictable. Women knew how to make it a challenge, and there was always some deep, underlying motive for why they did it. There was nothing you enjoyed more than piecing together that puzzle.
“They’re calling her The Witch. The poison used on the victims is like nothing we’ve ever seen before, so we think she must be making it herself. But since female serial killers are kind of your thing–”
You cut him off before you can think twice, thoughts whirling through your head. “How do you know it’s a woman? Cutting out a heart, that takes a lot of strength. Most female serial killers tend to use gentler methods, like poison, so it makes sense that there’s at least one woman involved. Are you sure she isn’t working with someone though? Lavinia Fisher would poison her victims and then her husband would finish the job.”
“How quickly can you get to Westview?” He asks, completely ignoring your question.
“Oh, you want me to go there?”
He scoffs. “Yes, Agent, we want you to go there. I’ve already informed your boss and he’s given his approval. No one has been better at catching the female killers than you, so we really need you on this. You can take the Miami jet as soon as you’re ready, but they want you there as soon as possible.”
“Will I be working with the Trenton branch?”
“Just the Westview PD for now. They’ve assured us that they have their best detectives on the case. But if you need backup, let us know and we can send in some more profilers. Whatever it takes to bring this woman to justice.” He hangs up without another word and you grab your to-go suitcase that you keep packed for times like these. You throw in a few extra sets of clothes just in case it takes longer than expected, and then you’re out the door, driving to Headquarters.
You walk into your boss’s office and knock on the door. The director of the Miami branch, Tony Stark, looks up at you. “Hope you packed some warm clothes,” he says and you chuckle. You definitely did not.
“Hayward said I could take the jet?”
Tony nods. “It’s out back and already fueled up. Good luck, kid. Be careful, okay?”
You scoff. “Careful? I’m always careful.” He fixes you with a stern look and you acquiesce. “I promise.”
“I don’t need to remind you what happened last time you worked on a case like this, do I?”
It hits you like a punch to the gut and you shake your head. “No, sir, you do not.” But you know he’s going to tell you anyway.
“That woman destroyed you,” he hisses. “You got so focused on finding her that you stopped eating and sleeping. The obsession completely consumed you.”
“I caught her, didn’t I?” You mutter, knowing full well that isn’t his point. He slams his hands down on his desk and you jump.
“She almost killed you,” he almost yells and your face twists at the memory.
The Scarlet Killer terrorized Miami about three years ago before you finally brought her down. At first, she would sneak into houses of families with twins and slit the parents’ throats and kidnap the kids, but the twins would always resist so she would end up killing them too.
After a while, she stopped caring about the twin aspect and started killing anyone with children.
You had spent days in the office, pacing and pouring over the evidence board, trying to make sense of it. There was no DNA anywhere, but there was also no sign of forced entry, so you figured that she was invited into the house somehow. The hunt for children made you think she had lost her own, or had some sort of abusive childhood that made her want to protect kids. She was possibly a twin as well, and very amicable if people were having her over willingly.
It took two months before you figured out the perimeter of her murders. She was making a hexagon shape with the houses of the victims. Hexagons can represent balance, so you figured she felt as if she was balancing out some score with the universe for something that had happened to her.
And then one fateful night, you realized where her next target was. A family had just moved into a house perfectly on the border of the hex, as people around the office started calling it, and they had twins.
You spent almost an entire week camped out in front of their house waiting for the Scarlet Killer to strike. You think during that time, you slept a total of ten hours. Hallucinations plagued you and you would doze off and then wake up babbling something about catching her. Agents would bring food by your car and beg you to take a break, but you kept your eyes strained on the house, determined that you wouldn’t let her get away with it again, determined to prove that you were right about where she’d be.
And you were.
Except the knocking that should’ve been on the front door of the house, the knocking that would inevitably lead to more death, was on your car window.
You had jolted awake to find a redheaded woman standing there, looking worried. You opened the door and got out to help her when she had pulled a knife out and stabbed you in the stomach.
Thank god she didn’t go for her usual M.O. of slitting throats.
You were able to weakly unholster your gun and take a shot at her as she was running away and by the yelp, you knew you had hit her. A consolation prize as your vision faded to black.
Somehow, you woke up two days later in a hospital room, Director Tony Stark by your bedside. They had caught the killer a block away thanks to the appendix your bullet had ruptured that rendered her unconscious, a woman named Wanda Maximoff, who had lost her twins in a horrible house fire, and made it a mission to try and replace them.
And her knife had missed anything important, and all you had was a nasty scar and the weariness from everyone else whenever there was a new female serial killer to catch.
“She didn’t kill me though,” you tell Tony, who rolls his eyes. “I’ll be careful. I won’t get too involved this time.”
He slides open a drawer and takes out a file and a business card that he holds out to you. You reach across the desk to grab the two and you scan the card.
Rio Vidal, Therapist, Westview. With an email and phone number.
You hold it up and raise an eyebrow. “You want me to see a shrink?” You already completed your mandated fifteen hours of therapy after the Maximoff incident and you weren’t eager to go back.
“You don’t have to, it’s just so you have an option. In case you feel yourself becoming too ‘involved.’”
You purse your lips but you slip it into your pocket and tighten your grip on the file. “Guess I’ll see you whenever we catch her.”
He salutes you and you make your way to the jet out back.
It’s a three hour flight and you spend your entire time pouring over the case file. You know there’s still some information that you’ll have to get from the Westview PD, like witness statements and exclusive photos that haven’t been released yet, but what you do have is brutal.
Photos of shriveled up bodies with barely any skin still on their bones, their cheeks hollowed out, like something sucked the life out of them. Not to be sexist, but you can tell why Director Hayward thought it was a woman.
Although there’s a gaping hole in their chests where a heart used to be, the cuts are neat, precise. And the blood has been completely cleaned up. What should be the bloodiest crime scene you’ve ever seen is void of any fluid, like the killer methodically mopped and bleached and cleansed the scene of everything. But this also means that the victims are dead before the heart is cut out, from the poison.
The most chilling thing is the singular, perfect flower placed in the cavity of their chest.
You flip through the toxicology reports but can’t really make sense of anything. One report says one chemical was the cause of death, another report says another. The levels of chemicals in the bloodstream are also different from victim to victim.
It reminds you of Jolly Jane Toppan, who would experiment with different medicines and chemicals to murder patients at hospitals.
Is the killer a nurse? A chemist? You’re able to figure out why she’s called The Witch, because it’s like she’s brewing up potions of sorts, but you have no idea why she would bother cutting their hearts out if she’s killing them with poison.
The precision of the blade also means that her hands are steady. Another reason she could be a nurse.
You flip through the pictures of all the victims – eleven, so far – and the first victim’s cut is just as accurate as the last victim. This woman is either a natural, or this isn’t the first time she’s killed.
Pulling out your computer, you search the database for any serial killer cases that match this same type of crime, male or female. You’re still not entirely convinced she’s working alone.
But there’s nothing. No cold cases, no open cases. She has truly shown up out of nowhere.
You tap your fingers to the tray table, your mind trying to make sense of the details for the rest of the flight.
When the plane lands, you’re ushered into an uber and taken to the motel where you’ll be staying. Your rental car is already in the parking lot. Even though Westview is a small town, it means a lot that they’re giving you all these accommodations.
Your room is complete with a kitchenette, a queen sized bed, and a good sized bathroom. You drop the files on the table, throw your suitcase in the bedroom, and grab your work bag before locking the door behind you.
The rental car is a small sedan that has a strange smell, but it does the job and you drive through the quaint twisting roads to get to the police station. You park up front, take a deep breath, and walk in.
No one stops you or asks what you’re doing here (no wonder this case hasn’t been solved yet) so you make your way to the back where you find the Chief’s office.
He’s a skinny man with a mustache, spots of something that looks like mustard on his shirt, talking to a woman with her back to you. All you can tell is that she has long, dark hair that flows down your back.
“Hi, excuse me?” You say, knocking on the glass door. The Chief stops and the woman turns around to face you and you’re momentarily struck by how attractive she is. “I’m Agent Y/N? The, uh, criminal profiler from Miami? The FBI sent me to help with The Witch case.”
“Oh, shoot, that’s right,” the man says, wiping his hands on his jacket before standing up. “Chief Phil Jones. This is Detective Agatha Harkness–” He motions to the woman standing there who smiles knowingly, raking her eyes up and down your body. “– our best. She’s been working this case day and night.”
“Any leads so far?” You ask her.
“Why don’t I show you what we have so far?” She offers and you nod, following her out of the office and trying not to look at her ass. She takes you into a different room with a bulletin board filled with pictures and string and post-it notes. You squint at it, trying to take everything in, while you hear more people enter the room behind you.
“So, Miami, what do you think?” A man taunts and a few others snicker at him. You ignore him, you’ve been used to this your entire career.
You’re still scanning the board when something catches your eye. The witness statements. They don’t corroborate with each other. From the six people that have seen something, they all agree that the killer had dark hair. But some say it was long, others say just past her shoulders. Some think she was taller and lean, others say shorter and just a little more filled out. There’s a detail from two witnesses that gives you pause though: they say the woman had a mask of sorts on the bottom of her face, almost like a skeleton. The other witnesses make no mention of not being able to see the killer’s entire face.
You tap the papers. “Why don’t the statements line up?”
“Surely you know how unreliable eyewitness testimony is,” Agatha drawls, and when you turn around, she’s watching you carefully.
You frown. “I do know, but it seems like there’s two different people here. So either we have a copycat, which would be unlikely due to there being no change in the level of detailedness from murder to murder, or–” You trail off, chewing on your lip. You’re waiting for someone, Agatha maybe, to finish the sentence, or to tell you you’re being crazy.
“Or?” She prompts like she’s daring you to go on. There’s a look in her eyes, a look you don’t quite recognize.
You give the men in the room a glance. Will they laugh? “I really think we’re dealing with two killers here. Working together. One poisons the victims, the other cuts out the heart. I thought it was a man and a woman, but it seems like two women. They’re obviously very close to each other, and they’ve got it down to an easy routine.”
“Why hasn’t anyone seen two women then?” Agatha asks, but you feel like she’s just guiding you to a realization, rather than criticizing your theory.
You hum, tossing the question around in your head. “Maybe…maybe because they want us to think there’s only one killer? They’ve fooled everyone, even the FBI. Easy to chalk it up to faulty witness statements.”
“Why wouldn’t they try to look alike then?” Agatha presses, and your brow furrows. It’s a good point.
The pictures of the mutilated victims on the board stare back at you while you look for anything you could’ve missed. “Are they toying with us? Do they want us confused? The poison, the cut-out heart, the flower left behind, the different descriptions, it’s like this is a game to them. They’re cocky, they feel confident that they can’t get caught. Maybe both of them are narcissists, but definitely are on the Antisocial Personality Disorder spectrum.”
“Why do you think they do it?” Agatha says in a hushed voice. You can’t help but notice that she seems excited.
Is that because she finally might be getting a break in her case?
“I don’t know,” you admit and she looks disappointed. You spin to face the board again. “There’s no obvious connection or pattern between the victims, so it doesn’t seem like there’s a personal vendetta against them. Nothing stands out about the locations either. It seems like they’re just killing for fun, right now.”
“That’s pretty dangerous,” she says, and you can feel the front of her body brush against your back. You’ve been so entranced that you didn’t even hear her notice her coming over. “That means anyone could be next.”
Goosebumps spread over your body at her hot breath on your neck, but her words sober you up. She’s right. You’re not able to rule out potential victims based on how many kids they have or don’t have, like with Wanda, or what they look like or don’t look like.
“Okay,” you say, nodding your head. “We need to send out a BOLO for two women with dark hair now. Put these descriptions out, tell them to keep an eye out for a skeleton mask? Hopefully we can get some tips and put a stop to this before anyone else gets hurt.”
“What should we call the other woman?” One of the male officers speaks up and you’re surprised that it’s an actual question.
Agatha watches you with interest while you think about it. “How about…Lady Death?” You offer and she gives a nod of approval. “Put a BOLO out for Lady Death and The Witch.”
You make copies of everything that’s on the board and paper clip them together to put in your bag. As you’re packing everything up to go back and leave to the motel (Tony would be proud of you for leaving the station at an acceptable time), Agatha comes over and leans on the table.
“What do you think their relationship is? Lady Death and The Witch,” she says, amusement lacing her tone when she says their nicknames.
You shrug. “Sisters, friends, wives? Maybe they’re just two crazy people who met each other and want to kill people.” She chuckles and studies you curiously.
“You know, we’ve had some other profilers come in, but none of them have been like you. You know your stuff.”
“Female serial killers are kind of my thing,” you say. “There’s just something about untangling the mystery that’s so much sweeter. Makes me feel…alive. Which I know sounds bad, because so many people have died, and I’m sorry.”
Agatha looks like she knows exactly what you’re talking about. “No, don’t apologize. It’s exciting, isn’t it? The exhilaration, the moment when you finally get what you want, what you’ve been working toward.” Her voice is low and you nod, leaning in before you can realize what you’re doing. Your gaze drops down to her smirk and then back to her blown-out pupils. “Do you think you’ll be able to find them?”
“Yeah, I do,” you breathe, and she looks positively delighted. Out of nowhere, the scar on your stomach stings and you grimace. Agatha looks at you, concerned but you brush it off. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow then?” You ask, standing up and slinging your bag onto your shoulder.
“See you then, superstar,” she says with a grin and watches you leave.
When you get back to the motel, you spread all the pictures and notes out, trying to connect some dots. You scribble down Friends? Sisters? Lovers? on a sticky note and press it to the wall.
Why do you think they do it? Agatha’s question still haunts you. You don’t want to believe that it’s just for fun, there has to be some meaning, some motive for poisoning and then physically removing hearts. There has to be some significance to the flower left behind.
But what is it?
Your stomach grumbles so you decide to take a step back and go pick up food from a restaurant in town. As you’re pulling out of the parking lot to come back to the motel with wings and french fries, you get a call from Tony Stark. You accept it, taking a sip from your cup quickly.
“Hey, Director,” you say.
“There she is! How’s it going?”
You shrug even though he can’t see you. “Not too bad. Just went and got dinner. See, I’m taking care of myself.”
He laughs like it’s the funniest joke he’s heard. “Glad to hear it. Any new leads in the case?”
“There’s two women, not one. They’re working together.” There’s silence on his end of the line for a second and you wonder if he heard you. “Did you–?
“Yeah, I got that. Shit, so you think you’re looking for partners? I don’t like this,” he says.
“I’m okay, I promise. What happened with Wanda won’t happen this time,” you reassure him as you turn back into the motel lot. “I’ll check in with you whenever you want. I’ll go see that shrink. I’ll be careful.” You’re worried that he’ll pull you off the case if he thinks you’re too obsessed. Your hyperfixation tendencies almost cost you your life, and you know Tony doesn’t want that to happen to you again. He’s become somewhat of a father figure to you since you started working there, and it’s touching how much he cares.
He hums in satisfaction. “I expect you to eat three meals a day and get at least five hours of sleep.” Before you can protest, he continues. “And I want you to make an appointment with that therapist. Just get ahead of your spiral, maybe talking about the case with someone removed will help you be more level-headed.”
“I will,” you vow. “Okay, just got back to the motel, I’ll talk to you later.” He says goodbye and hangs up. When you get out of the car with your food, the hair on the back of your neck stands up and your scar tingles.
Something feels off.
You get to your door to find it slightly ajar and you frown. You remember locking it. Maybe room service cleans at night?
“Hello?” You call, pushing it open. Taking a few cautious steps into the room, you scan from wall to wall looking for anything or anyone.
There’s no one there, nothing seems out of place except for your suitcase that is now on your bed. You tentatively walk over to it and unzip it, jumping back like you’re expecting something to pop out. Inside, you find all the clothes you packed gone, and entirely replaced by a new wardrobe. Pulling them out, you gasp when you find cashmere sweaters and silky blouses and comfortable but professional looking pants. There’s a bottle of perfume with the word “Thanatos” printed in perfect calligraphy and you take a whiff. It smells like flowers and wood at the same time and it makes you think of a forest.
So someone broke into your motel room just to give you some new clothes and perfume? You rustle through the rest of the suitcase and a piece of paper flutters to the floor.
Heart pounding, you lean down to pick it up. It’s the same sticky note that you put on your wall before you left to get food.
Friends? Sisters? Lovers?
Only now, the word ‘lovers’ is circled, with a small heart drawn. You drop the paper like you’ve been burned and run over to where all your case information is and you feel nauseous.
Nothing has been touched. Nothing is out of place.
Except for the single purple azalea resting on the middle of the table.
They were here.
#agatha harkness x fem!reader#agatha harkness x reader#agatha x reader#agatha harkness x you#agatha x you#agatha all along#agatha x rio#agathario x reader#agathario#rio vidal x reader#rio x reader#rio vidal x agatha harkness
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(Ik this post is from a long while but MY BRAIN WORMIES ARE ACTIVATED YET AGAIN VI THIS IS YOUR FAULT)
(This takes place after the extra raise in popularity and vacation)
WHAT IF they also made like- fan songs? Like The Living Tombstone and Random Encounters?
After their vacation, they realized that they actually enjoy producing music (they've been in a creative fever ever since they made the soundtracks in 2 movies), so they decide to form a band/group, and they've been covering/producing music during their ramshackle sleepovers
their group roles are as follow:
ACE, having knowledge on choreography the past few times they made the videos, is now in charge of editing, and making the MV itself, taking inspiration from tons of artists and planning his own, before finding animators to help him animate the MV (the animators didn't slip up the opportunity and agreed almost immediately, regardless the price)
DEUCE, who surprisingly has a good voice range (Epel has the best one, but Deuce comes close second), agreed to be one of the main vocalists (much to Ace's dismay), along with Epel. They both have full freedom on managing how their voices in the song, like from a high pitched scream in lost ones weeping, but they both decided to do a high pitched growl instead. (They're naturals with some training -- it didn't take many attempts to get the final products they agree on)
JACK, other than being able to make walking look fabulous the last time, can surprisingly, do music theory and play the piano. He is in charge of producing the main melody for the songs they make, and with Ortho's help, add some other instruments into the melody. (It took him a lot of effort to make one with a specific feel to it, even if he does listen to all types of artist, producing one from scratch is not something he has done before, but in the end, everyone is satisfied with the final result)
EPEL, other than being one of the main vocalists, is also partially in charge of reviewing and inserting effects for the MV. They both had some initial disagreements, but they eventually came to a satisfying conclusion that satisfied both their tastes. Aside from that, Epel isn't doing much, so he tries to help out the others as much as possible. (Deuce, Sebek and him tend to finish their parts earlier than most, so even during the earlier and final stages of production, he helps out in any way he can)
ORTHO, who has a ton of editing experience, is now in charge of compiling the melody, MV and acapellas together, and doing a final check on everything. He does use his scanners to check and review them, but ultimately, whether he wants to follow through or ignore what his scanners tell him, it's his decision. (He usually asks everyone in the group to review it with him too, to get opinions and feedback on what he edited {he has a backup copy of the pure, compiled but unedited version just in case})
SEBEK, who did the costumes the last time, is now in charge of making the MV look good. From adding extra dramatic lighting, to tinkering around with the og subtitles, he makes sure the MV matches the vibe the group is trying to get across. (The others are always grateful for him for joining in their little music group, cause it takes up his knight training time. He usually shrugs it off, but he enjoys editing the effects in the MV, so he wouldn't count this as a waste of time. {he won't admit this, but he likes spending time with them as much as they do with him, so in repayment for their company, he helps them in his own way, including joining their little group/band})
YUU, regardless of everything, is still the manager for the little group, and their song writer, so they create catchy lyrics and help manage the channels, from the channel's content and contact to editing and uploading the bloopers, they have free reign. (As prideful the first years are, they will admit that they only bond more because of Yuu, so in repayment of their presence, they gave them the ultimate power and control, as a way of saying thanks)
After making a few songs at once, they upload them periodically, the first one being No Mercy; a fan-song based on a very trending PVP game that was released a month ago during their vacation (they only found out because Ace loves video games in general, and tends to try new ones upon release), followed up by Basics in Behavior, a song based on an old indie horror RPG where it's a school experience gone wrong, and a few more fan-songs uploaded for the next month or so week, with descriptions explaining they binged-finished multiple songs at once before uploading them periodically.
Needless to say, after a few months after their last soundtracks, the media went crazy because of them again, their videos gain crazy amount of views cause mega fans recognize them by voice...and they put their actual names in the credit.
(Vil is about to grow grey hairs earlier, and Eric is about to contact them again to make more soundtracks and an exclusive interview, and the internet does what it does best.)
[EXTRA NOTES: if I have the motivation, I'll do headcanons on how they act in Vil's interview ;) (which has a chance of being posted a few hours after this one lmao)]
the first-years accidentally enter a Sage's Island singing competition, because yuu saw the words "participation money" on the poster and signed them up immediately because the vacation fund, you guys, THE VACATION FUND-- (different au from the restaurant, btw)
the contest is through video submissions, so yuu brings all the first-year together to pump out a semi-decent, story-driven music video (think "last friday night" by katy perry -- a mix of story cutscenes and actual dancing). they used to dabble in making original music back home, so they write up a quick, catchy song, and assign everyone their roles.
after the whole fairy gala thing, jack and ortho are very adept at making walking/flying look fabulous, and so they're the main stars for the acting segments. ortho is also in charge of the technical parts: providing equipment, editing, etc. jack is very embarrassed over the idea of being in a music video that a bunch of people will see, but after he sees leona eat a mouse off the floor because he was too lazy to pick up the plate of food ruggie left for him, he decides he really needs his vacation as soon as possible. same for ortho, except he had to watch idia heat up a cup of ramen, drop the whole thing on the ground, and then proceed to still eat it anyway.
since ace actually knows what people like, he's in charge of planning and directing the choreography and writing the story. he's a little bitchy about it, but he's good at what he does, and not nearly as bad as vil, so... little mercies.
being strong enough to carry the heavy equipment, sebek is the one in charge of actually recording the video itself. he's ALSO in charge of making the costumes, being the only one with enough determination to study for five nights straight on modern fashion trends and... y'know, being the only person out of the seven who knows how to sew, lol. being the emotional, sensitive guy he is, he's also in charge of the lighting and the overall aesthetic of the video, knowing exactly which elements will evoke what response in people (aka, he throws a bunch of things at the wall and sees which one makes him cry the hardest). don't worry-- yuu keeps him from plastering malleus's face all over it.
that leaves epel and deuce to be the dancers. luckily, the choreography isn't nearly as... bubblegum pop, i guess, as "absolutely beautiful", so it doesn't take a whole lot of convincing for them to do it. deuce, like jack and ortho, isn't entirely sure of being on camera, but then trey gets called back to the queendom by a family emergency, and the whole dorm goes to shit and somehow catches on fire, soooooo...
at the end, they submit their video, and grab their participation money. and they honestly think that's the end of it...
...until they get an email saying they won first place, the video blows up on TwistTube, articles start getting written analyzing the metaphors and complex story in the video, and now eric venue is coming to sage's island to see if they'd be willing to do a promotional music video for a movie he's producing.
uhhhhh... whoops?
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Toys with Han
wc» ~900
cw» not really proofread, fem!reader, sex toy usage, vibrators (m & f receiving), mentions of unprotected p in v, mentions of multiple rounds + overstim, i think thats it?
an» for u my 🥢 anon <3 i wanted to write out ji's so ill do that hehe
'Toys' Masterlist
DO NOT republish or translate+post my work!
His favorite: Hitachi wand.
Hannie looooves this toy, and it’s mainly because both of you can use it!! Either on each other or on yourselves~ But boy does he love fucking your brains out while using it on you…
“J-Ji!”
“That’s right pretty, cry my name more~” His hips roll into you perfectly as your knees try their best to close around his small waist. He grunts and pushes the fat tip of the vibrator harder against your clit and times it with a particularly hard thrust. “Ah-ah, be good for me, mamas.” Your nails can’t help but dig further into his forearm and the sheets as you feel another orgasm building up.
Each one has been more intense than the last, and you can feel your conscience slipping from you as this one takes the cake for being the strongest. You shake aggressively under him and feel your eyes roll into the back of your skull as you gush around him. It’s not quite enough for you to realize that you’re squirting right away, but it’s just enough for him to realize and fuck you harder through it, sending himself through his own orgasm.
“Holy shit, baby!” He laughs and throws the toy to the side, not bothering to turn it off before he pulls out. He jerks himself off fast and uses his free hand to rub back and forth on your cunt, making your release splatter all over your legs and onto his arm. You vaguely hear some more comments before you feel him cum on your stomach, some of it landing right where his hand caresses your damp thigh.
Your chest is still heaving by the time you’ve even slightly calmed down, but Han has already turned the vibrator off and is hovering above you, leaving featherlight kisses along your face. They trail down until he’s at your jaw, where he nibbles lightly and whines, “That was so fucking hot…” You can feel his cock already twitching back to life against your thigh.
“I wanna go again, honey... Can you handle more?” You shake your head fervently and he hums alongside a laugh.
Once you’ve returned to this plane of existence, you push him off of you, interrupting his kisses and getting complaints in response. He continues to whine until you climb on top of him and straddle his thighs, then he smirks up at you and tilts his head playfully. His equally playful “Yeah?” makes your head spin and you quickly hush him with a kiss. Just one short enough to distract him and allow you to reach for the tossed, turned-off vibrator.
The way he doesn’t notice right off the bat is enough to almost make you laugh, he was so caught up with sticking his tongue down your throat that he didn’t hear the buzzing start up again. It wasn’t until you slid it between the two of you that he noticed, and by the time that happened it was already too late. You wrapped a hand around his base to hold him still as your other hand lightly traced the vibrator up and down his length at the lowest speed.
His eyebrows furrow and he short circuits- he stopped moving his lips completely as his jaw dropped in the middle of the kiss. You were so close that you could hear each time his breath caught in his lungs, and it only egged you on further. It was your turn to make him the mess, and you quickly took advantage of him being distracted by licking a long stripe down his neck.
“Jagi…” His voice was shaky but he still tilted his head to the side for you to have more room to work with, almost instinctively. You simply hum in response and turn it up a notch, frowning into his neck when you realize he’s biting down on his lip. “Hey. I was good for you, why can’t you be good for me now?” You bite down on his neck to (prove ur point) and he finally caves, releasing his swollen lips with a shaky exhale that turns into a moan when you press the vibrator to his tip.
“My baby… Ffuck- ‘ma cum.” He swallows the drool pooling in his mouth and starts thrusting his hips towards you, pushing the vibrator down his shaft on his own. His jaw drops into a loud gasp and his eyes squeeze shut as you tsk and trace the tip of the vibrator in circles around his tip, sometimes adding extra pressure to tease him further. Your lips latch onto his neck and you suck dark marks into his Adam's apple.
“Cum for me, please~” Your voice is low against his neck, making him shiver as he feels his orgasm on its cusp. What finally sends him over the edge is when you crane your neck down more and lick a circle around his nipple, biting down just under his tattoo where his skin was beautiful but unmarked.
You look up in time to see his gaze land on you. His eyes are dark and lidded but you can see the fire in them as he growls and paints your hand and his stomach in his cum. His eyes narrow further as you giggle and lay down to lick up his stomach, cleaning him up while intentionally riling him up again. You don’t turn the vibrator off, only turning it down to the lowest setting before you ghost it at his base.
“C’mon, Daddy. You can do it again~”
Taglist: (red=can't be tagged)
@valkyriexo @lunearta @jabmastersupriseee @rylea08
@yaorzu-blog @amararosesblog @jiminssluttyminx @clemissleepy
@miss-daisy04 @kittyxnoa @dwaekkiiracha @bubblerizz
@mariteez @fun-fanfics @honeyybbuubblleess @kittycatkrissa
@nicora04 @chuuyaobsessed @moonlightndaydreams
@aeri-skzver
#sian’s writing#🥢 anon#stray kids smut#stray kids imagines#stray kids x reader#stray kids x reader smut#skz smut#skz imagines#skz x reader smut#skz x reader#han jisung smut#han jisung x reader#han jisung x reader smut#han jisung imagines#han smut#han x reader#han x reader smut#han imagines
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in which you get distracted by vi in a tank top.
vi x fem!reader. cw suggestive, mentions of nipple piercings and underboobs, implied sex. note dedicated to my obsession with vi’s muscles >\\<
summer is easily your favourite season.
not because of the weather. it’s unbearably hot, and quite frankly, you hated it.
you loved summer for one reason only — vi.
specifically, vi in sleeveless tops.
when the heat starts to threaten to boil your skin off, you could always count on vi to make your insides churn hotter than the blazing sun on a cloudless day.
all thanks to the tight fitting tank top she loves to wear.
vi had come over to help fix your car that has been overheating for a while. she was saying something, but your brain didn’t register a single word that came out of her mouth, too focused on the mouth watering sight in front of you.
her broad shoulders filled up the tank top just right, giving you a perfect view of her back — dark ink covered in a glistening layer of sweat. the thin material hugged the contour of her toned abs, and you could just make out the outline of her nipple piercings through it. oh, and her arms. those muscles contracting with each move, thick biceps flexing in a way that made your mouth water… you could stare at her all day long.
and that’s exactly what you were doing. leaned against the propped up hood of your car, not being remotely helpful.
“you got that, princess?”
vi was looking at you with an eager smile, soft blue eyes meeting yours earnestly, as if she was searching for praise. it made you feel a little guilty for getting too distracted to pay attention to what she was saying.
“mhm.” you gave your best encouraging smile, “pour the coolant in the... uh…”
“this right here.” vi pointed at the container inside the hood of your car. she bent down to pick up a large jug off the ground, a quiet grunt leaving her lips as she propped it up against her thigh. “the one with the yellow cap.”
your eyes trailed down her body. “yeah, got it.”
you wondered if vi could feel your eyes blatantly ogling at her arms. the way her muscles flexed under the pressure, controlling the flow of the heavy liquid. you frowned a little in disappointment when she settled the jug back onto the ground, wiping her hands onto a towel.
“there, all done.”
vi pulled up the hem of her shirt, wiping her face with the edge of the fabric. your eyes widened when the motion revealed her underboobs, watching as a drop of sweat slowly dripped from the valley between her breasts down to her abs. you’ve never wished you could be a drop of sweat before in your entire life. well, until now.
“...doll?”
you blinked, forcing your eyes upwards.
“yeah?” heat rose up your cheeks at the breathy sound of your voice.
vi cocked an eyebrow, an amused smile playing on the corners of her lips. she stepped closer to you, slinging the dirty towel over her shoulder before she slowly slid her hand down her abs, fiddling with the band of her sweatpants.
you were rooted to the spot, body growing hotter and hotter with each passing second.
“you seem a little… distracted.” vi murmured, though her voice was low, the teasing lilt in her words was clear as day.
you swallowed. “it’s hard not to.”
“i want you to focus only on me now.” vi took another step forward, slipping a leg between yours just as your back lightly hit the shelf behind you. she raised one arm above your head, pressing it against the shelf, while the other rested on your hip.
“can you do that for me, pretty girl?”
vi’s touch almost made the scorching summer heat feel cold. she was sweaty, hot lips trailing down your body hungrily, leaving behind a wet trail on your burning skin. her calloused fingers gripped you tightly, pulling you impossibly close, until all you could feel was the warmth of her body against yours.
#arcane#arcane x reader#vi x reader#arcane fluff#arcane vi#arcane imagines#arcane headcanon#vi arcane#vi fluff#arcane fanfic#vi x you#vi arcane x reader#arcane x female reader#wlw fanfic#viceps
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Freaky Deaky
Billie Eilish x female reader !
A/n: I got this idea when this song popped up on my Spotify the other day. I hadn't listened to it in soooo long but omg this idea SPRUNG into my brain - this is inspired a bit by the music video so if you haven't seen it go watch it !!! And lastly enjoy 🥰
Summary: she wasn't use to this from you. But on valentines day, you decide to let that side of you show.
Warnings: smut ! Daddy kink yall 😋 reader is super girly, and many more kinky surprises 😈
Tags: @trulyy-yourzz @eilishslut @brat-at-the-disco @chrissv4mp @n0vabug @dollyvuu
Masterlist
"I've been feeling freaky deaky."
"You're on your way to see me."
14th of February. The day of love. Some is passionate, sweet, loving. And some is freaky, which is what tonight was for the both of you. You only got the courage to do this when she asked you to be her valentine. The usual flowers, chocolates and a sign. But, there was a small bag. You look inside to be faced with some lingerie. It was pink. Your favorite color. Not just any pink, a hot pink. The sexy kind of pink. It impelled you to be a bit more confident and open with her. You've had sex, sure. Countless times. But you haven't been dating for long, so ofcourse there were kinks and fantasies neither of you knew about. That changes, tonight.
You had been laying on your bed, the pink fluffy sheets felt great on your skin. You were about to get up and get ready for your night with Billie when you get a text from her.
Bills💗
- "I'll be there in 25 baby."
- "Awesome can't wait ;)☺"
- "Me too mama.😈💋"
A smile spreads across your face, rolling over on your bed with a giggle. You adored the way she made you feel, forever giggly. You never really showed that side of yourself from past experiences but she brings a comfort, a safeness no one in your life has ever brought for you before. So, you can be your true selfaround her. You go to your vanity picking out the right makeup, moving onto your hair. You put it up in a cute messy but styled bun. "Cute." You say softly to yourself, messing with a few strands on the sides. Getting up and heading to your closet to pick out this satin pink robe, putting that over the lingerie Billie had gotten you.
The pink lace hugged your body just right, and she was very excited to see you in it. It'd be a lie if she said she wasn't dreaming of how you'd look in it. Shes finally getting to live that dream, and many more. You spray some nice smelling purfume on from Victoria secret, sealing the whole look. Feeling amazing. You hear a knock on the door going to open it, looking at her with a grin. Her eyes wander, going over your tits, sitting pretty in that bra. So perfectly. Your waist, hips. The see-through satin robe hid hardly anything. So she was looking. Loud and proud.
You invite her in, letting your hips sway as you go over to your bed. "The lingerie fits nicely, thank you for getting it for me." You say to her sweetly. So sweetly infact you hear her gulp. "It fits you very. Well." She joins you on the bed. "I got you a little something. Two little somethings." Her head shakes. "I told you I'm fine baby it's ok, I don't need anything." You move to grab it. "Too late. Open open!" You say handing her the pretty bag it comes in. She peeks inside seeing a strap and dildo both pink to match with everything. She looks at you, but you nod your head for her to look at the other thing.
It was these two chunky rings she had been after, you just had to get them for her. "Mama." She says looking at you. "Those were incredibly expensive, I would've gotten them." You just shake your head. "You've been so good to me I really wanted to return the favor." Your eyes were soft and genuine. "God I'm gunna fucking ravish you tonight." She growls, not standing anymore of the distance between the two of you. Her hands reach out, grabbing your face and kissing you with such lust. She slowly pushes you back on the bed hovering over you.
Her hands fiddle with the silky strings on your robe, getting it to come undone and take it off. You go to take the rest off but she stops you. One of her fantasies was to fuck you while you had something sexy like this on. She was adamant on fulfilling that. "Keep it on.." She trails off as if she wasn't done with her sentence. Her hand moves to the bottom of your underwear, snapping back a part near the crotch. You gasp as cool air hits you, biting your lip. You had no idea it had an opening. Your eyes look to her, she's just smirking. "I have things all planned baby, don't you worry." You blush, not that it was noticeable with the amount you dabbed on.
She reaches for the strap, the band being sparkly and pink, the dido being a lighter shade of that. She takes her shirt and pants off, grabbing the harness and then attaching it to herself. You watch Intently, deeply intrigued as she always just had it on whenever the two of you fucked. She notices this, slowing her movements. Almost as if she was giving you a little show. She lines up, observing how noticeably wet you were. Just for her, because of her. She was proud. Her fingers touch the skin of your pussy. Feeling the wetness. She gathers some, bringing it away and straight to her mouth. She moans at the taste, making your breath hitch.
The tip prods at your entrance, causing light moans to fill the room, whimpers. She soaks it up, repeats it in her own brain at how beautiful you sounded. She slowly sinks into you, nearly bottoming out but you grab her bicep. She kisses your head, letting you know she's right there. "Good girl, you got it." Her kisses move to your cheek. "Pretty girl, so good for me." The praise was going straight to your head. Causing your eyes to shut as the pleasure builds up. She begins to move slowly. But even at that pace it provoked your eyes to roll back, biting your candy pink lip once again. Her kisses move down to your neck, sucking hard. Marking you up. Her hands rest beside your head as she speeds up.
You move your head, opening your eyes and looking up in the mirror. Her back muscles flexing. Making your head spin as she hits the perfect spots.
Got the mirror on the ceiling...
You're in the mood to please me...
"Going to break your back." She snarls into your neck, far deep into her lust. Adoring how you'd arch into her thrusts. You moan into her ear. "P-please." She chuckles. "You want that? Want me to break your back?" You didn't even know this yet as she hadn't told you but it slips out past your lips. "Yes daddy, fuck!" Her eyes grow darker, needing to make sure she heard you correctly. "Say that again?" Then you panic, did she not like it? "I- uhm-" Her gentle hand makes contact with your jaw. "What'd you call me?" Her hips snap harshly, making your eyes yet again roll back. "Daddy!" You moan, loudly. "Fuck." She breathes. That was the thing she'd touch herself thinking about. And to actually hear it.
From the rightful source made her want to cum right then and there. "You drive me insane baby." Her tongue runs along your neck, feeling goosebumps rise on your skin. You shiver
I get so infatuated and erotic with you.
Her thrusts become relentless making it impossible for you to hold on. "Mmm, please. I'm so close." She doesn't falter. "Yeah? Go on then, want a reminder of tonight. Never going to wash this one. Wanna keep it locked away for safe keeping." She was truly feral for you and it sent you off the rails. "Bills fuck!" You screech as you cum hard all over her, feeling your legs shake. Just from seeing that, hearing and feeling everything. It makes her close. The fact she could make you feel such pleasure makes her feel powerful. Wanting to protect you. She grunts feeling the base hit her perfectly. "Fuck you have no idea what you do to me."
She says, listening carefully to your moans. And within seconds she's now cumming, it leaking out, slightly onto you aswel. Your breaths were heavy together, calming down from such an intense round of pleasure.
Abd that was just the first of many. Many rounds that night.
#billie eilish#billie eilish x reader#billie eilish x you#billie elish icons#billie ellish lyrics#billie eilish imagine#billie#billie eilish smut#billie eilish fanfiction#billie eilish fandom#billie eilish x reader smut#billie eilish x y/n#billie eilish x female reader#billie eilish oneshot
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Distracted
Lee!Viktor x Ler!Jayce
Word Count : 4761
Summary : Jayce can’t stop thinking about what it’d be like to tickle Viktor. When they get tipsy together one night, he doesn’t have to imagine anymore.
a/n : i love them. sm. also, two things: 1) this is lowkey an out of character fic but i realized that it’s kinda hard to write a tkl fic with lee!viktor and it not be a lil ooc so bear with me LMAO, and 2) i said i was working on a lee!jayce fic, and i still am, but it’s a little longer and more thought out than this one so again. BEAR WITH ME! okok love yall hope u enjoy
this is a tickle fic! not nsfw, but don’t like don’t read 😝
…
It’d be so easy. Almost too easy. Viktor would kill him for it, probably yell at him for 45 minutes for breaking his concentration with something so stupid and childish. But it would be worth it just to hear the cute sound Viktor would make when Jayce finally dug his fingers in sides, crawling up to his ribs and playing them like a piano, maybe even drill his thumbs into his hips just to hear him cry–
“What about this one?”
Viktor’s voice broke through his concentration, and Jayce nearly jumped. The slim man looked over his shoulder at Jayce, bringing his arm down from the top of the black board. Viktor has been writing near the top of it for a few minutes now, working on an equation as he mumbled under his breath. His arm had been outstretched over his head so he could reach, and with his whole side exposed like that, his ribs and underarms were on beautiful display for Jayce to stare and daydream.
It was nothing short of a miracle that Jayce had only been thinking those thoughts instead of acting on them, with the way his fingers itched and curled into the leg of his pants just looking at Viktor like that.
Shit, he should probably focus now. Jayce did a quick once over of the equation, making sure he’d have something of substance to say in response. “Uh, yeah it–it looks fine.” Ah yes, a very substantial addition, Jayce Talis. ‘Idiot.’
Viktor quirked a brow. “Just…fine?”
“Yeah I mean it’s…” Jayce cleared his throat, looking over it once again and finally taking in what Viktor was actually doing. “I don’t see anything wrong with it. And once we get it fitted into our earlier calculations, it should be ready to rock-and-roll.” Jayce cringed internally, ‘Oh my god shut up.’
Viktor still looked suspicious, as Jayce rarely seemed caught off guard like that. He turned back to the blackboard, “Well I think it could still use some touch-ups. You should come and help me, my brain is frying from staring at it for too long.”
Jayce swallowed. Dammit. He’d been perfectly content to watch from behind, it was easier to hide his self-made fluster at that angle. But…right fucking next to him? Where it’d be even easier to reach out, pinch a bottom rib, make Viktor squirm and laugh and—
“Jayce. Any day now would be preferable,” Viktor deadpanned, not even sparing a glance as he continued to look at his equation.
“Right, right,” Jayce hopped to Viktor’s side, really trying not to be any sort of distraction in his state. Now next to Viktor, watching through his peripheral, he saw Viktor once again reach up and make a few scribbles with chalk. Above his head. Exposed.
Jayce bit the inside of his cheek, snatching a piece of chalk himself just to have something to hold onto. Why was this hitting him so hard right now? Usually, moods like this were so much easier to suppress, easier to forget about when he finally got himself lost in their work. But right now, their work was more mundane, small touch-ups on calculations they’d been meaning to get to for ages. It had been a very dull day in terms of their work, but inside Jayce’s head, a boring work day meant more time to think about Viktor.
Whether Viktor was…sensitive. Ticklish. What kind of laugh he’d have. Would he giggle? Voice light and breathy, gently squirming and batting at Jayce’s hands while his face flushed at the feeling. Or would he cackle? His body shaking through the force of his laughter, having to clutch onto his own stomach like his reactions were being ripped from him. Maybe he’d beg Jayce to stop, maybe he’d be laughing so hard he’d be unable to even form words around his giggling, maybe he’d wail—
“Jayce, are you quite alright?” Viktor asked, his brow pinched in suspicion as he gave Jayce the one-over. “You’ve been…very distracted today. Not that I don’t appreciate the reprieve from your usual yapping, but your behavior does seem a bit unusual this evening.”
Viktor had taken to leaning against the board instead now, which was a lot easier on Jayce’s overwhelmed mind to take in.
“Sorry, sorry. Just got a lot on my mind, I guess,” Jayce gave his nothing-answer and turned back to the board to make a few marks, hoping Viktor would brush it off like he normally does. Or at least, like he used to do.
He’d been more inquisitive of Jayce lately, actually asking personal questions and even answering some of Jayce’s own. They’d gotten to know each other a lot better because of it, which was great, but it was also coming to bite Jayce in the ass right now since Viktor was able to notice that something was so off with him.
Viktor turned toward the lab’s window, his gaze on the moon shining bright through the glass. There was no telling when it had gotten dark outside, they both tended to very purposefully not look at the clock when they were at work.
Jayce heard him sigh. “It’s late,” Viktor droned, rubbing a tired hand down his face. “I wouldn’t mind taking a break if you’re also interested?”
Jayce’s brows raised in surprise, a little smirk curling at the corner of his mouth. “You’re asking me if we can take a break? Where’s my partner and what have you done with him?”
Viktor gave a small blink-and-you-miss-it grin, “He’s off drowning himself in a river. His brain turned to mush after staring at one equation for nearly 3 hours.” He grabbed his cane that had been leaning against the board, before pointing a finger at himself, “New Viktor, however, just remembered the alcohol he stored in the kitchen months ago for dull days like this. And he’s inviting you to share a drink.” Viktor poked Jayce in the chest, before turning toward the kitchen.
Jayce smiled brightly. “New Viktor’s got some good ideas.”
—
They ended up drinking just a bit more than either had expected to. They weren’t drunk, per se, but their combined buzz had them talking a lot more open than usual. Their conversations felt so easy tonight, and Jayce was starting to wonder why they didn’t drink together more often.
“And the next thing I knew, I had a kitten stuffed down my shirt and a crazy lady passed out on the floor behind me,” Viktor chuckled around the rim of his glass, taking a small sip before continuing, “Little moments like that make me glad I got out of the Undercity when I did.”
Jayce snickered openly, clutching at his glass through the laughter. “I don’t know Vik, that sounds like a great time to me.”
“That’s just because you're a Piltie with minimal Undercity experience. Trust me, a kitten down my shirt was the least of my worries.”
Jayce’s laughter simmered, but his grin never left. He gestured with his glass, “So, what’d you do with it? The kitten.”
Viktor shrugged. “I carried it in my shirt all the way home. I didn’t feel comfortable leaving it with that woman, even at my young age,” He said, before giving a little chuckle at the new memory. “Actually, it was hell getting it back home. I didn’t take it out of the shirt because, before she collapsed, she said she had guys that’d be after me for it. I was naive to believe anyone would recognize the kitten on my walk, but I was young so I’ll give myself that grace.”
Viktor shook his head through a smile, taking another small sip. “But my god, if that thing didn’t tickle me the entire walk home. I must’ve looked insane. Some–hehe–some crippled kid with a lump in his chest, giggling to himself, ” Viktor couldn’t hold back his own snickers at the thought, but of course still scolded Jayce nonetheless. “Stop laughing, this was serious to me at the time.”
When that word, that one word he’d been thinking of all day, rolled out of Viktors mouth, Jayce felt his heart leap. His skin nearly prickled. And now he’s tipsy, and there was no way he could hold back on making sure they stayed on that topic for as long as he could hold it. “So what I’m hearing is, Boy Genius is too ticklish to handle a little kitten in his shirt.”
Viktor rolled his eyes. “I was a child. And I doubt you’d fare any better in that circumstance, even at your grown age.”
Jayce held his hands in surrender. “I never said I’d do any better. But it sounds like you think you aren’t ticklish anymore, which I think is total bullshit.” Jayce couldn’t hold back his smirk if he tried. “Actually, now that I think about it, you’ve just given me a way to get whatever I want in the lab. Maybe I should thank you?”
Viktor pointed at Jayce with the hand he held his glass, a small bit spilling onto the couch between them. “If you dare try something like that, I’ll go back and convince the counselors to have you arrested again.”
Jayce laughed, “Arrested for what? Tickling you?”
The corner of Viktor’s mouth twitched upward, “For a hate crime. You can’t just take advantage of a cripple like that and get away with it.” Viktor claimed teasingly, before growing suspicious of Jayce’s wandering glare. He was staring hard at the glass Viktor held between them, a little smirk on his face. “What? What are you looking at?”
Jayce clicked his tongue, “Hold on, can I just—” He interrupted himself reaching his hand towards the glass, and Viktor was so caught off guard by the action (and a little slower to thinking now, thanks to their couple of drinks) that he let Jayce take the glass from him without any protest.
Jayce took one long swig of the drink, sighing hard as he set it down on the table next to them.
Viktor’s brow furrowed hard. “What the hell was that?!”
“That was me getting your glass out of the way,” Jayce’s smile was wide and his eyes alight with mischief, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “So I could test out a little theory.”
Viktor’s mind was working slow, but not that slow.
“Oh nonono , Jayce—Jayce, whatever you are thinking, stop thinking it.”
“Why?” Jayce wiggled his fingers as he scooted closer to Viktor, who cornered himself against the arm of the couch. “Nervous you’ll get caught lying?”
“Absolutely not,” Viktor said, “But I cannot promise you won’t get hit.”
“Ohoh that is a price I am more than willing to pay,” Jayce chuckled, before darting a hand out to sneak a quick pinch to Viktor’s side. The reaction was immediate. His partner choked on a sound in the back of his throat as he arched away from the fingers.
“Jayce I swear on everything—”
“C’mon, I never get to see you laugh. If it hurts, I’ll stop?” Jayce offered, and Viktor would appreciate the kind thoughtfulness of that statement had he not been too busy trying to push Jayce’s hands away from his torso. Unfortunately, the nervous smile on Viktor’s face during the entire tussle really took away any bite he tried to muster in his words.
“If it hurts, I’ll k-kill you,” Viktor’s voice wavered on the word as Jayce pushed a hand through and pinched his rib, latching on tight but not yet actually tickling. He just…held it there.
Viktor gripped onto the wrist at his ribs, pushing and pulling and trying everything to avoid his own humiliating downfall. He was already struggling to keep anticipatory giggles at bay, and Jayce was beaming at the reaction.
“You ready?”
“No, nonono, Jayce—”
“Three.”
“I’ll throw all your patents into the river!”
“Twoooooo.”
“Consider all your hard work a gross, soggy mush!”
“One!”
“Jayce, no-! aUgchk—n-nohohoho!”
Jayce finally put his fingers to work, gently pinching at that bottom rib incessantly. Viktor did exactly what Jayce thought he would. He giggled hard, arching in a way that curled his body around Jayce’s hand, and slapped at his wrist like it’d do anything to push him off.
“Y-You—You idiohohot-!” Viktor’s words faded seamlessly into another bout of laughter as Jayce brought his other hand around to squeeze nicely at Viktor’s side. Viktor squirmed in his hold, and Jayce thought he was going to melt.
Viktor looked so cute like this. Flushed from alcohol and laughter, smiling wide and desperate, squirming in Jayce’s hold like his every touch was causing a new reaction. Just cute cute cute.
“Nohot cute you freheak!” Viktor said around his giggles, making Jayce flush himself. Did I say that out loud?
Well. Might as well double down, right? “Only thing to make this any cuter would be a kitten popping outta your shirt, huh?”
Viktor visibly blushed a tinge darker, “Okahay okahay! Stohop! I cahaha-ahahah!” He couldn’t even finish his sentences. Jayce was hooked.
But he was also merciful. At his command, Jayce declawed from Viktor’s ribcage and hovered above as he watched Viktor pant and come down from his giggle fit. When Viktor caught his eye (and that doting look he got when Viktor did just about anything these days), he shoved Jayce’s face away playfully with an all too smiley groan. “I hope you got what you needed from that study, because you are never gonna try that again.”
Jayce snickered, leaning back to his spot on the couch. “Oh yeah? Says who?”
“Says the guy who’ll stick a cane up your ass if you try it,” Viktor leaned against his own respective arm of the couch.
Jayce grinned back. “Yeah, we’ll see about that.”
—
Hooked couldn’t begin to describe the feeling. Jayce was enthralled. Enamoured. He couldn’t stop thinking about that night, brief as it may have been. He didn’t want to go overboard with Viktor, of course, the man was weird about touch as it is. Jayce was lucky he’d been able to get his hands on him at all. But that hardly mattered. Because Jayce got to hear what Viktor sounded like when he felt ticklish, and now that he knows that sound, it might as well be on a record scratch repeat in his brain at all times.
Jayce’s leg shook anxiously under the desk. He wasn’t nervous, more just…unfocused, at the moment. Yes, partly from all of that, but mainly from the chaos of notes and blueprints and paperwork littered in front of him. That boring night must’ve just been the calm before the storm, because once they were able to get all those equations pieced together, the workload became fucking endless.
And of course Jayce loves their work, all the passion and hours they both devote to creating what is essentially their whole future. It’s a beautiful thing what happens in their lab. Astonishing. Awe-inspiring.
…and also ridiculously stressful.
Jayce must’ve been working for nearly 24 hours at this point. His legs felt like lead, and his shoulders ached from the past few hours of leaning over this desk and working working working. He couldn’t count the amount of times he’s had to stretch his hand out from all the notes he’s written.
He’s fucking exhausted.
And what’s worse? Jayce knows that Viktor’s somehow been awake for even longer than him.
Jayce cleared his throat. “So uh…it’s gettin’ late, Vik. Wanna call it a night?”
Viktor was hunched over his own desk, goggles on as he meticulously worked over their project. Jayce knew if those goggles were off, he’d be able to see Viktor’s eyes trying their damndest not to slip shut from exhaustion. “Not now. This needs a few touch-ups.”
“And it can’t wait til tomorrow because…?”
“Because if I break my concentration, I may forget where I was in my progress by tomorrow,” Viktor said, before waving Jayce off. “Go, get some rest. You deserve it.”
“And you don’t?” Jayce could hear his voice get defensive, on Viktor’s behalf no less. The guy never gave himself a break, it was nothing short of a miracle that he’d been the one to suggest their break just two weeks ago. Jayce sighed, “I miss ‘New Viktor.’”
At that, Viktor paused. Lifting his goggles to his forehead and throwing Jayce an incredulous look. “Seriously, Jayce?”
Jayce pouted with a shrug, leaning against the back of his chair. “Yeah. New Viktor would’ve had a drink with me hours ago and then gone to bed at an appropriate time,” Jayce grinned. He gave an exaggerated, almost theatre-like sigh, “I guess this Viktor just isn’t as fun.”
Viktor pursed his lips at Jayce, clearly holding back a little smile at the banter. “I’m plenty of fun. This is fun,” he pointed to the contraption on his desk he’d been fiddling with.
But Jayce stayed with the bit, humming dreamily. “Ohh, New Viktor, how I miss him. He drank with me. We shared funny stories and laughed together,” Jayce smirked, getting a fun little idea. “Yeah, I remember him laughing a lot that night, actually. And it wasn’t just from the jokes he was telling.”
Viktor scoffed a half-laugh, shaking his head. “You sound sleep-deprived.”
“Noooo, my head’s pretty clear right now, actually. I remember it so clearly. Gah, New Viktor was such a riot,” Jayce sat his elbow against the desk and propped his head against his hand, giving Viktor the cheekiest grin. “He even let me tickle him. Can you believe that?”
“I did not let you do anything, don’t go twisting the narrative,” Viktor pointed at Jayce, his face losing the battle against the smile he’s been fighting. “You probably have 100 pounds on me, you practically assaulted a disabled man against his will.”
Jayce ignored him. “If I remember correctly–”
“You don’t remember a thing.”
“-he was very ticklish, even though he tried denying it at first. How silly is that? If you deny it, you know someone’s just gonna try it out and prove you wrong anyway,” Jayce said, before humming in fake contemplation, squinting and tilting his head. “Huh. Are you ticklish, Viktor?”
Viktor tapped his finger against the desk in a steady rhythm, now avoiding eye contact with Jayce. “You are ridiculous. We are grown, and I need to work.”
“Actually, you need to stop working and go to bed,” Jayce stood from his seat and walked to Viktor’s desk (who still refused to meet his gaze), leaning an arm against the top and towering over Viktor. From the new angle, he could see a little blush over Viktor’s face and ears, how he was biting the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling anymore. Cute. “You gonna do that, or am I gonna have to answer my own question since you avoided it.”
Viktor glanced at Jayce with a side-eye. “You know the answer. And you’re being childish. If I wish to work, you cannot force me to stop.”
“Actually,” Jayce grinned, before hooking his fingers under Viktor’s arms (which were so conveniently sat atop the desk, leaving his underarms open and exposed) and digging in, getting an immediate reaction from Viktor who flung his back against the chair and choked down a laugh with the funniest sound. “I think I totally can.”
Viktor squirmed, his good leg digging its heel into the ground as his arms shook against their spot glued tight to his sides. His head was ducked down to hide his face, but he kept making these choked off little sounds like he was trying his hardest not to laugh (even though they both knew how ticklish he was, it was such a useless battle that Jayce’s heart burned in adoration).
“Viktorrrrr,” Jayce sung, his fingertips travelling just a tinge lower to Viktor’s upper ribs, and that’s what did the scientist in. Viktor let out a laugh that sounded like it surprised even himself, before tittering helplessly and falling into a giggle fit he couldn’t fight if he tried.
“Nohoho! Not again, Jahahayce–!” Viktor shook his head against his laughter, slapping at Jayce’s arm as deeper belly laughs started escaping him. Jayce could almost hear in Viktor’s laughter how he started to feel the helplessness take over, how he couldn’t get out of this if he tried. “Why?!”
“Because I care about you. You need sleep even more than I do, Vik, and you aren’t gonna do it unless I make you,” Jayce said, like he wasn’t tearing Viktor apart beneath him, like Viktor wasn’t coming undone under his fingers and squirming like a worm on a hook.
Viktor laughed harder at his words, “Cruel!”
Jayce couldn’t help but snicker himself. “Cruel? I’m helping you here. Just tell me you’re gonna go to bed and this is all over!”
Viktor shook his head, “Let me work! Evil fucking–ggahahaha shihit!” He lost his words as Jayce found his lower ribs right above his sides, Viktor’s hands grasping onto Jayce’s wrists like a lifeline.
“You are so stubborn,” Jayce chuckled. “I can go all night, y’know. You aren’t winning this.”
“Jdi do píči!” Viktor cursed in his native tongue around his giggles, and Jayce felt himself blush at the sound. Oh, Viktor’s gonna be the death of him.
“Gonna assume none of those words were ‘Yes, Jayce! Of course I’ll go get some well-deserved rest, thank you for helping me!’ Would I be right?”
Viktor didn’t respond, only laughing harder as Jayce slipped his fingers back up into his armpits. His head was thrown back now, and Jayce could see his Adam's apple bobbing through this laughter. His cheeks were flushed, eyes shut tight from the smile searing his face, and god the crinkles his eyes were making just made Jayce’s brain glitch. “C’mon, Vik. I know this is tiring you out.”
“You don’t know shit!” Viktor cackled, clearly confident he could withstand this. Well, at least before Jayce slipped one hand out and started tickling the side of Viktor’s neck and ear. Viktor seemed to stumble over his own laughter, his brain fuzzing around the new sensation as he slipped in and out of belly-laughter and high-pitched giggling. The side of his head slammed against his shoulder to block the sensation, but Jayce’s fingers were already at work, scribbling and scraping against those horribly sensitive spots that Viktor clearly couldn’t stand, if his incessant cursing in another language wasn’t enough to prove it.
“Oh? This a good spot?” Jayce teased, now bringing his other hand into the mix on Viktor’s other side. Viktor’s shoulders completely hunched up, his body so overwhelmed he didn’t know what to do with himself. He doubled over, clutching one arm over his aching belly while the other continued its useless slapping at Jayce’s arm. Jayce chuckled, “What? Does this tickle or something?”
“F-Fucker!” Viktor’s voice wavered, high-pitched and bubbly, before he finally resigned to his fate. “Okay! Okahahay! Bed–! I'll sleheheep!”
“Okaaay, I’ll trust you this time,” Jayce grinned. He stopped the wiggling of his fingers, but poised the tips of his indexes right at the curve of Viktor’s ear. It was a threat, and one that made Viktor titter and squirm and pull at Jayce’s wrists uselessly. “But next time I catch you without sleep for nearly two days like this, I’m not going easy on you.”
Finally, Jayce pulled his hands away, and Viktor slumped against the back of the chair with an exhausted sigh. “Have I ever told you how much I don’t like you.”
Jayce snickered, “Yeah. And I didn’t believe you then either.”
Viktor grinned, wiping a hand down his face. “I knew you’d do that eventually. I couldn’t expect you to find out something like that and not use it against me at some point,” He stood up on wobbly knees, and Jayce quickly handed him the cane that had fallen on the ground during Viktor’s squirming. “Just didn’t expect you to be so cruel about it.”
“Hey I wasn’t cruel–”
“Oh? You weren’t? Torturing a disabled man when he’s running off no sleep for over 48 hours isn’t what you’d call cruel?” Viktor teased, gathering things off his desk to bring home in his bag.
“Torture?” Jayce’s voice tilted up his grin. “You never even told me to stop.”
Viktor’s hands fumbled and he dropped a few pens. Jayce laughed as he bent down to retrieve them, their hands brushing as he gave them back. Viktor looked like a pouty cat, lips thin in a tight line with squinted eyes. Best of all, his ears were burning.
“It's a little hard to speak when you’re being forced to laugh.”
“But not hard enough you can’t slip in a few curses, right?”
Viktor had no rebuttal to that, merely scoffing like he had no clue what Jayce was talking about as he tossed his bag over his shoulder. “Goodnight, Jayce.”
Jayce watched as Viktor walked toward the door, completely satisfied with himself. He did it. And…it didn’t seem like Viktor even minded that much. In fact…hm. Maybe he’s reading too much into it. There’s no way Viktor liked it as much as Jayce. That’d be crazy.
“And um…” Viktor had the lab door pushed halfway open, stopping himself with his back turned to Jayce as he spoke. “Thank you.”
Jayce just could not help himself. “For tickling you?”
Viktor laughed at Jayce’s gall, “For making me get rest, you bastard,” He glanced over his shoulder to Jayce, who looked over the moon at Viktor’s honesty. “I know I need this, despite how I fight against it. So…though your methods are horrible, and undignified, and childish and stupid, and really show how odd your personality is—”
“Let’s get to thanks, yeah?”
Viktor smiled as he turned back around from Jayce. “...Thank you for looking out for me. I do appreciate the care.”
Jayce wanted to hug Viktor so tight their bodies melded together. Instead, he said, “Anytime. You know that.”
—
Viktor fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow. Jayce was right, as much as he hated to admit it. He’d lied when he said it was only two days without sleep. It was probably closer to four. Jayce just didn’t know that because the last time Viktor went home, he’d taken some of their projects and papers with him to work on in his own personal study.
So yes. His rest was needed, or whatever. And he did sleep really, really good. Almost 14 hours completely uninterrupted as he snoozed warm and cozy under the covers.
Only problem was…his mind ran a little rampant in his sleep that night. The events of the night before, with Jayce, and Jayce’s hands, and Jayce’s fingers, and Jayce teasing him so close to his ear he could feel his skin prickle with Jayce’s breath on his neck. All those thoughts that made his belly warm and fluttery were what he fell asleep to that night.
Which led to some…interesting dreams to think about when he woke up that morning.
“Does it tickle worse here? Orrrr here?”
“Jahahayce! No plehehease!”
“Answer the question, Vik. Your thighs or your hips?”
Jayce’s fingers were pressed deep into both spots, one hand tickling deep into his thigh first, before pausing so his other hand could wreak a similar havoc against Viktor’s hip. The feeling was overwhelming, and Viktor squirmed hard against the weight of Jayce pressed on top of him on the lab couch. Viktor was fully pinned under Jayce, unable to move and only allowed to squirm because Jayce thought it looked pretty when he did it.
“Hihips! Jayce, hips, plehehease!” Viktor wailed, and when Jayce paused, Viktor inhaled like he hadn’t had a good breath in years. His breath was labored, shaky, laced with leftover giggling from Jayce’s attack.
And Jayce just looked down at him like Viktor hung the moon that lit their lab through the window.
“I love your laugh.”
Viktor squirmed at the praise, shoving Jayce’s face. “Stop.”
“That’s the first time you told me to stop. What, am I embarrassing you?”
“Stop!” Viktor whined, shoving both hands over Jayce’s eyes so he couldn’t look at him in this flustered state.
But Jayce only chuckled, grabbing Viktor’s wrists and hoisting them up over his head to pin them against the arm of the couch.
“But you like it, don’t you?”
Viktor woke up with a jolt, his eyes wide and breath uneven.
Shit. Was he actually into this? What the fuck did Jayce do to him.
...
hope u enjoyed! pls consider reblogging if you did <3
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LET'S PLAY A FEW
pairing: Zhou Guanyu x Streamer! Reader
word count:
i have been cooking this up in my brain for so long now, like it has been weeks that i've been meaning to writea guanyu fanfic and now here it is yippie also i wrote this because guanyu is very dear to me and i am just gutted that he wont be racing next year
The stream was alive with the low hum of background music and the click-clack of Y/N’s keyboard. Her Tuesday night streams were a familiar routine for her viewers—three hours of CSGO, now smoothly transitioning into Valorant. She’d solo queued, half-focused on the game, half-focused on her chat. It was a relaxed vibe tonight, her soft voice filling the gaps as she responded to questions.
“Y/N, who’s your favorite agent?” one viewer asked.
“Hmm, depends on the day,” Y/N mused, squinting at the game. “But I’m leaning toward Jett lately. Fast, flashy… plus, I’m a sucker for knives.” Her words were accompanied by the sharp sound of her clicking through weapons.
Her team switched to defense. She’d been holding B site alone and wasn’t too concerned. “It’s always quiet until it’s not,” she muttered, eyes narrowing as she scanned the entry points.
And then it wasn’t quiet.
The enemy team pushed hard—four, no, five enemies storming the site. Y/N’s demeanor shifted instantly. She stopped talking mid-sentence, leaning forward, her entire focus honed in. Chat knew what was happening. They’d seen this mode before.
One.
Two.
Three clean headshots in rapid succession. Her chat erupted.
“SHE’S COOKING,” someone spammed.
“Demon time activated,” wrote another.
Four down, one left. Y/N’s crosshair tracked, and with one swift flick—the fifth player dropped.
“ACE!” Chat’s excitement exploded, emotes and all-caps filling the screen.
“Nice ace,” a voice said, calm and steady. Y/N’s body went rigid as a soft kiss landed on the crown of her head. Her breath caught in her chest.
Slowly, as if she couldn’t believe it, she turned her head to see Zhou Guanyu standing there, his face calm as ever, hands in his sweatpants pockets. His eyes met hers with an easy grin, one he’d worn countless times but somehow always made her heart stutter.
“Are you solo queuing right now? Want me to hop on?” he asked like it was the most normal thing in the world.
Y/N’s mouth opened, but it took her a moment to find the words. The situation wasn’t particularly funny, but a wave of giddy laughter poured out of her—that helpless, uncontrollable kind.
“I’m… I’m streaming right now, Bǎobǎo,” she said through breaths of laughter, wiping at her eyes.
Guanyu’s eyes flickered toward her monitor, realizing what had just happened. His gaze shifted to the camera. “Oh. Hi, chat,” he said with a casual wave like it was any other Tuesday night.
Pandemonium.
Chat’s messages scrolled too fast for Y/N to read. Everyone was freaking out. The calm, private nature of their relationship had only left the fans guessing. Speculation had been rampant, but this? This was confirmation.
“NO WAY THAT’S GUANYU.”
“WTF OKAY BOYFRIEND REVEAL.”
“Bǎobǎo?????????”
Y/N’s face was red as she tried to focus on the chat. “Alright, alright, calm down,” she said, fanning herself dramatically. She glanced up at Guanyu, still grinning like a fool. “You’re unbelievable.”
Guanyu’s only response was to tilt his head, his grin never wavering. “You’re the one who’s blushing,” he teased before walking off toward the kitchen.
Three years earlier, Guanyu had been just another viewer in Y/N’s chat—a regular with a verified checkmark that made him stand out. People recognized his name, but Y/N didn’t at first.
“Zhou Guanyu…” she read aloud, squinting at the name in her chat. “That’s… a Formula 1 driver, right? Chat, you’re messing with me.”
“No, it’s actually him!” chat exploded.
Sure enough, he’d donated with a message: “Big fan of your streams. If you’re ever down for games, I’m in.”
Y/N’s eyes went wide. “No way that’s real,” she muttered, half-laughing. But over the next few weeks, his presence became a regular occurrence. Guanyu’s name appeared in her chat, his playful comments lighting up the screen.
Then one day, he sent a Discord invite.
“Let’s play a few,” his message read.
He wasn’t what she expected. His sense of humor was sharp but subtle. He wasn’t loud, but he was confident. Their first few games were filled with banter and easy laughter. Somewhere along the way, it stopped being just "streamer and viewer" and became… more.
Soon, he’d hop into her streams without warning. His voice was instantly recognizable. Their interactions sparked thousands of clips on Twitch. Fans flooded her social media with theories. “Are they together?” became the constant question. They never confirmed or denied it, and after a while, the frenzy died down.
But when Guanyu’s race schedule allowed, he’d appear on her stream. Sometimes he’d just be a voice in the background, sometimes he’d play with her on-stream, and sometimes, like today, he’d forget she was streaming entirely.
Back in the present, Y/N’s chat was still in shambles. Guanyu’s sudden appearance had sent them into a spiral, and Y/N’s notifications were pinging nonstop. She’d read a few messages aloud, fighting the urge to laugh all over again.
“‘Tell him to come back’… No, he’s probably playing with Sweet Corn right now,” she joked, glancing over her shoulder.
“Does he call you Bǎobǎo?’” she read, the grin on her face growing wider. “Yeah, yeah, he does that sometimes. It’s…” She trailed off, her cheeks burning again. “Don’t worry about it.”
A few minutes later, Guanyu wandered back in with a bowl of fruit in hand, offering her a piece of mango. She took it with a raised brow. “You’re a menace, you know that?” she said, still half-laughing.
“Mmm,” Guanyu hummed in response, popping a piece of mango into his mouth. “You love it.”
“Yeah, yeah, I do,” she said softly, her voice quieter this time, almost just for him.
Chat caught every word.
#f1 x reader#f1 fic#f1 imagine#f1 fanfic#f1 x you#f1 x y/n#formula 1 x reader#formula 1 imagine#formula one x reader#formula 1 fanfic#f1 fluff#formula one fluff#formula one imagine#formula one fic#formula one fanfiction#formula one x you#formula one x y/n#formula 1 fic#formula 1 x you#formula 1 x y/n#zhou guanyu#zhou guanyu x reader#zhou guanyu x y/n#zhou guanyu imagine#zhou guanyu x you#zhou guanyu fluff#sweetcorn
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not a lot, just forever (pt.2)
summary: weddings weren’t logans thing, but being at one with you made him mind them a whole lot less. your (not so) subtle confession may have helped—but now it’s his turn to make the next move.
pairing: logan howlett x reader
word count: 1.3k
warnings: romcom themes, weddings, possible ooc!logan, reader is described as wearing a dress
authors note: thank you to everyone who read and interacted w my first fic. it genuinely means so much! here’s a part two for everyone who was asking<3 I’ll be working on requests over the next few days, feel free to keep them coming loves! part 1 is on my profile (still figuring out hyperlinks and such, masterlist will be coming soon!) ౨ৎ
logan doesn’t think he’s ever been more excited for a party. whenever there’s been a gathering or a social event at the mansion in the past, he’s been enthusiastic, sure, but mostly at the prospect of being able to get drunk off of his ass—not having to deal with the heavy weight that finds its home in his chest when he’s sober.
this time, though, it’s not the liquor. that’s almost the last thing on his mind, for the first time in years. right now, all he can think of is you. you in your dress, your perfume overwhelming his senses in the best way possible.
his heart finds a shaky rhythm in his chest as time inches on, throwing noncommittal glances at the altar where jean and scott exchange their vows. his knee bounces up and down sporadically, as he attempts to subdue his racing mind. he can feel you next to him, feel the heat radiating off of you—or was that him? he wasn’t so sure. he steals small glances at you, biting back the urge to reach for your hand; settling instead for resting his arm on the back of your chair.
he almost lets out a cheer when everyone begins filing out of the venue—ripping him from his thoughts. his eyes catch on you momentarily, breath hitching in his throat at the mere sight of you, holding up your dress and treading carefully on the grass. if he was bolder, less reserved, he’d extend an arm and help you. as everyone gathers outside, cooing at the newlyweds, he’s only focused on one thing.
the bouquet.
everyone knew the old wives tale. whoever catches the bouquet, is next on the list to get hitched. determination swells in his his chest, eyeing the assortment of pink and white blooms that rest in jeans arms.
he observes the surrounding area as photographers flash a few pictures of the couple— the more animal side of his brain working overtime, like a wolf stalking a caribou. he doubts that he’ll actually go for it, too rational to do something so childish. it seems he has no choice, however, because as soon as he sees a flash of pink and white against the blue sky, he’s already taken off—as though his legs made up his mind for him. he weaves through the crowd, hushed apologies falling past his lips. once he reaches the clearing, he jumps off, reaching for his prize. a smug grin adorns his lips, as he grazes the wrapping of the flowers—only to have it jerked away from him.
his brow furrows as feet meet solid ground once more, only to soften when his eyes lay upon the person who actually caught the bundle of flowers.
you stand in front of him, eyes locking with his. any frustration in his mind is washed clean as he sees the grin on your face, flushed cheeks. you stay gazing at him for a little too long; even as your shared friends gather to congratulate you.
those who were close to you, though—namely your teammates— knew that this meant something deeper. anyone who knew logan could tell that he had feelings for you, and vice versa. the stolen glances, hands brushing as you walk side by side.
as the throng of people begin to head for their cars, logan tries to spot you in the crowd, itching to tell you how he feels—to confess— spilling every emotion he’s ever felt for you onto the dirt for you to do as you please with. he sighs gruffly, heading for his motorcycle.
the road to the mansion is practically ingrained into his memory, unfortunately giving him enough time to overthink the rest of his evening. what if he misread? what if you changed your mind? what if he got you hurt? what if it was actually about someone else? like scott, or hank.
please don’t let it be scott.
he pulls up to the large building, gates propped open to allow guests easy entry. upon entering the room where the reception is held, his eyes immediately search for you: something that’s become a daily occurrence in his life since you stumbled into it. when he finds you, you’re already there, staring right back at him. if he had a tail, it would be wagging.
he rolls up his shirtsleeves, tugging at his tie anxiously, hating the way it clings to his throat. he clears his throat gruffly, swallowing his pride before starting across the polished wood floor, directly to you. he stands in front of you, his cheeks flushed this time.
“hey,”
he starts, any plan or script he had in mind abandoned once he saw your face. placing a palm on the back of his neck, his jaw tightens.
feelings.
logan had seen the worst parts of humanity. its darkest corners—and conquered it. risen above. yet feelings, were something he could never seem to overcome. but he’d be damned if he didn’t try for you.
“logan,” you speak, voice soft and low. he knew you. you hated to see him struggle—always wanted to finish his sentences so he didn’t have to say the hard things. he raises a hand, stopping you in your tracks. “let me,” he huffs. he takes a moment to look at you, really look at you. your parted lips, pupils wide. he has all the courage he needs.
sucking in a deep breath, he finds his footing.
“you were right. about me, i mean. i am scared. fuckin’ terrified, actually. im…” he trails off, swallowing hard in an attempt to regain himself, to soothe his racing mind. “telling you this— telling you how I feel, scared me, darlin’. but after you telling me you felt the same I realized that… never getting the chance to hold you—at least not in the way I want to—scares me a hell of a lot more.” he finishes, gazing at his feet. if he met your eyes right now, he didn’t know if he’d be able to continue, his brain screaming at him to give into fear. to run away.
for once he didn’t want to run. not this time. silence hangs in the air for a moment after his words, the anticipation allowing him to drag his eyes up your body, meeting yours.
before he can register, there’s a hand on his jaw, and one on the back of his neck pulling him closer. your foreheads meet, dark eyes gazing into yours. he almost melts at the way you look at him. doe eyed, completely at his mercy. he meets you halfway, plush lips meet his. shaky hands wind around your waist, tugging you in closer to him.
for a moment, the world stops.
it’s just you two. no nightmares, no impending doom. just this.
as you both pull back, logans heart calms in his chest. for the first time in a long time. he can breathe, actually think—cathartic. his eyes stay closed, chin coming to rest atop your head as he pulls you into him.
“I love you.”
your words make him jump a little. he knew what he was feeling. he had for a long time—too scared to admit it to himself. he softens after a moment, warmth filling his chest. it felt right. his right person.
“I love you too.”
as you pull back, world around you seemingly coming back to life— a slow song plays from the speakers softly, couples and friends gathering to dance. a hand reaches for logans wrist, guiding him to the dance floor.
his hands find their place around your waist, yours around his neck. your bodies intertwine, your face to his chest and his chin on your head. his eyes flutter shut, heightened hearing tuning out everything around him, focusing in on your heartbeat. steady, soft. home.
you sway softly, gathered by friends, and loved ones.
the beginning of forever.
#logan howlett#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett x you#xmen x you#mysticmutants#wolverine x reader#wolverine#marvel x reader#marvel
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Everyone Knew (1)
Cassian x Reader
After realizing you're hopelessly in love with your best friend, a night out at the bar takes an unexpected turn when unresolved feelings become the topic of the night.
Mutual pinning, Slight angst, Fluff Warnings: Drinking, border line nswf (but only make out) Completed Series - Read part 2 here
“You could, perhaps, try talking to him…” Feyre suggested, lifting her glass to her lips, “I mean, how long do you think you can avoid him?” She added, with a pointed look
“Would forever be too long?” you muttered, staring into your nearly empty drink. Tonight was supposed to be a break—a brief escape from your endless pining. Somehow, though, it had turned into an interrogation.
“You’re acting pathetic,” Nesta grumbled from beside her sister. “Just talk to him. He is only a man.”
“I tried,” you whined, throwing a pleading glance at the girls. You really had tried—more than once. The problem was that every time Cassian’s eyes lingered on yours for too long, your brain short-circuited, leaving you speechless and rulling any possibility of confessing: utterly impossible.
“Tried,” Nesta repeated mockingly, a smirk curling her lips. “If you call drooling over him and bolting out of every room he’s in trying, then sure.”
“She gets flustered,” Feyre said, reaching across the table to pinch your warming cheeks. “It’s not her fault.”
“Exactly!” you mumbled, swatting Feyre’s hands away. “Every time I look at him, words just… don’t form… into complete thoughts.” You groaned, slumping back. You weren’t exactly the drooling mess Nesta made you out to be—at least, you hoped not—but lately, you’d definitely been frazzled.
A poorly muffled laugh broke from the man sitting on Nesta’s other side—silent for so long, you’d almost forgotten he was there.
“I hardly see how you find this so amusing, Azriel,” You scolded, shooting him a sharp look.
Azriel’s eyes flicked to yours for a brief second before darting back to the other girls. “I’ve never seen her acting so… odd,” he said, shaking his head. “And neither has he.”
“Stop talking about me like I’m not here,” you grumbled, crossing your arms. “I am not acting weird.”
“Besides becoming a moping mess?” Nesta quipped, her lips curling into a sly smirk.
“He knows you’re avoiding him,” Azriel said flatly. “And that’s… odd behavior. You two are normally inseparable.”
“You told him I was avoiding him?” you accused, your heart beating a little faster.
“No,” Azriel replied, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Skipping practice for the third time this week clued him in. He didn’t stop complaining about it during sparring today.”
“Wait… he’s upset with me?” you asked, a knot forming in your chest.
The last few weeks had been overwhelming. Realizing just how deeply you loved your best friend had been consuming. He had been consuming. The mere thought of stepping into a ring with him, his large, strong hands on you, made your pulse race.
“I never said he was upset with you,” Azriel corrected, arching a brow.
“But he’s complaining about me?”
“Not about—” Azriel sighed, his tone edging toward exasperation. “Would you just talk to him?” His frustration showed in the slight crease of his brows, his patience clearly wearing thin.
“And say what?” you muttered, more to yourself than anyone else. Just having a fraction of his attention made you flustered—having all of it? You were sure you’d melt on the spot.
“Literally, anything.” Nesta answered.
With a scoff, you laced your fingers together dramatically, resting your chin on them. “Oh, my dearest friend,” you began, your voice dripping with mock sincerity. “I hate to ruin our valuable friendship, but our friends think it is vital that I inform you of how completely, utterly head over heels I am for you.”
You paused just long enough to grab the glass Feyre had left in front of you, tossing back its contents in a single gulp. The alcohol burned its way down your throat, making you wince. But as you set the glass down, all traces of mockery vanished, your tone softening to something achingly earnest.
“Every morning, I wake up sad because you aren’t beside me, and I fall asleep just as bitter. Truly, though, that's the least of my problems…” Your voice faltered for just a moment before you pressed on. “Because I haven’t the faintest idea how to act around you anymore. And I miss my best friend.”
“Yes, say it exactly like that,” Feyre said, her soft smile full of encouragement.
“That was… actually very romantic,” Nesta added, her usual sharpness tempered by genuine surprise.
“As if I could ever say that—Oh!” you groaned, digging your hands through your hair in pure frustration. “Did I tell you what he said yesterday? About how excited he was to pin me under him?” Your voice cracked, and the words spilled out in a hurried, breathless rush.
You knew Cassian had meant it in the context of sparring, but the unintended suggestion had completely scrambled your thoughts. “How am I supposed to train with him now?” you muttered, shaking your head and pressing your palms to your temples. “The thought of me under him, or worse, me on top of him… Cauldron.”
Azriel, caught off guard, sputtered into his drink, his usually stoic composure vanished as he coughed and gasped for air. Feyre, her face flushed with suppressed laughter, pressed a fist to her mouth in an attempt to control herself. Nesta didn’t bother to hide her wide grin.
“This is not helping.” You groaned, burying your face in your hands.
“Neither is skipping training,” Nesta quipped.
“This is all your fault!” you snapped, spinning to point an accusing finger at the trio. “You three just had to point out that I loved him. You couldn’t leave it alone—you all just had to be right!” You were ready to argue further, but their expressions gave you pause. Instead of guilt or concern, they were all smiling at something behind you.
“Gonna be honest, Y/n…” A chill crept into your stomach as you heard a very amused familiar voice.. “Didn’t think that line would work.”
You froze, the air rushing from your lungs as you turned around. “Cass!” The unintelligible squeak that followed was a sound you were certain had never left your lips before. Your voice climbed a pitch higher, your heart hammering so fast you feared it might escape your chest entirely and throw itself at the man standing before you. “Cass—Cassian! You’re, uh, here. Why? Uh… why are you”—you swallowed hard, your throat painfully dry—“here?”
Behind you, the chorus of girlish giggles from your so-called friends did nothing to steady the waver in your voice. Cassian’s arms crossed loosely over his large chest, his posture casual, but his eyes anything but. They raked over you with an intensity that left you rooted to the spot. “I heard you went drinking without me.”
“Is that… what you heard?” you stammered, your voice faltering as you struggled to keep your composure. “What else—what else did y-you hear?” You couldn’t tear your gaze from his hazel eyes, the intensity making your heart race.
“Enough to piece together why you’ve been—well, avoiding me.”
“Have I?” you asked, feigning confusion as you awkwardly scratched at the back of your neck. Cassian’s lips twitched, his amusement rising alongside the arch of one dark brow.
“I’ll get us a round,” you blurted out, inching toward the edge of the booth. The plan to escape was short-lived, though, as Cassian’s arm shot out, blocking your path. Two shot glasses clinked against the table as he set them down with a smug grin.
“Oh, no you don’t.” Cassian chuckled to himself as he squeezed into the booth, his broad frame leaving you no choice but to shuffle further back. “We should talk.”
“A talk? You and I?” you asked, your voice high-pitched with forced casualness as you plastered on a tight smile. “It’s a girl’s night—we can talk later… or never. Never works for me.”
Cassian’s grin grew. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, as if struggling to decide what to say first. His eyes flicked to Azriel, who sat stiffly at the far end of the booth, before returning to you. “Girl’s night, huh?” Cassian drawled. “But Az is sitting right there.”
“No, I’m not,” came the shadowsinger’s low, muttered reply.
You barely had time to blink before the sound of Azriel getting up filled the booth. Disappearing into the crowd without so much as a backward glance, leaving you alone with Cassian. Feyre and Nesta, you realized belatedly, had also vanished at some point. Traitors.
“Coward!” you yelled after Azriel, your frustration swallowed by the chatter in the bar.
“Says the kettle to the pot,” Cassian quipped, his smirk turning devilish as he reached for the bottle Azriel had left behind, taking a long swig. He set it down, leaning back as his gaze pinned you in place. “I’ve never seen you act so… flustered before. It’s cute.”
“I—” The word barely escaped your lips, snagging on the lump forming in your throat. Cute. He called you cute. Like you were some kind of child.
Mortified, you buried your face in your hands, as if that would somehow block out the world—and him. Heat flooded your cheeks, and his presence, so close, so warm, only made it worse. “Can you just pretend you didn’t hear any of that?”
“Y/N, would you just—”
“Please—pretty please?” you cut him off with a groan, your voice tinged with desperation. You just needed him to let it go, to move on, to give you even a moment of reprieve.
But the sound of your plea died in your throat as two large, warm hands gently wrapped around your wrists, pulling them away from your face with surprising tenderness. His touch sent a wave of buzzing exhilaration coursing through you.
His breath fanned against your ear, and you flinched at just how close he was. Too close. There was no hiding the heat crawling up your neck and settling in your cheeks.
“W-What?” you stammered, completely losing track of whatever he had just said. Your eyes flicked to his lips, watching as he caught his bottom lip between his teeth, a faint smile tugging at the corners.
“Why would I do that?” he repeated, his voice low and deliberate.
“Because… because it’s easier,” you admitted softly, the words tumbling out before you could catch them.
Cassian’s brows drew together, a flicker of confusion shadowing his expression. “Is it?” he murmured, leaning in ever so slightly. His teasing smile returned, softer but no less disarming. “Because it looks like you’re struggling quite a bit.”
“Cauldron, Cass… please.” Your voice wavered, breaking under the strain of your emotions. “I—I can’t. Don’t tease me about this. I can’t…”
The raw and fragile plea hung in the air. Your wrists went limp in his grasp, as if surrendering would somehow make it easier. Maybe if you stayed quiet, he’d let it drop—let you go so you could disappear into the safety of your blankets at home and pretend this moment had never happened.
Instead, he loosened one hand, his fingers brushing against your face as he gently tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear. His knuckles lingered, grazing your cheek with a tenderness that sent shivers down your spine. You told yourself not to, begged, but you leaned into his touch anyway.
“This is why you’ve been acting so…” His knuckles trailed downward, leaving a scorching path to your neck. The sensation was maddening, each inch sending waves of heat and goosebumps alike coursing through your skin. “…so distant?”
You swallowed hard, words trapped under the weight of his steady gaze. His fingers brushed lightly over your throat, as his hazel eyes searched yours, waiting.
“Yes.” The word was barely a breath
“I thought I did something to piss you off.” His hand slid from your wrist, trailing slowly up the bare skin of your arm. Every brush of his fingers left a trail of fire in their wake. “I hounded Az about it for weeks,” he continued, voice low and laced with something unspoken. His touch traveled over your shoulder and down your back, finally settling on your waist—where it fit like it belonged.
“You did?” The question barely made it past your lips, as soft and fragile as your resolve under his gaze.
“Needed to know why things changed.” His grip on your waist tightened slightly, warm and possessive, his thumb pressing just enough to make your breath hitch. “I hated the distance you put between us.”
“Cass—”
“Promise me, Y/N.” His voice dropped, low and intimate, the weight of his words sinking deep into the charged space between you. “Tell me you won’t ever do that again.” His hazel eyes bore into yours, sharp yet devastatingly tender. “Alright, Cassian.” You whispered it, though it felt more like a surrender than a promise.
He used his hold on your waist to draw you closer, your bodies nearly flush. His face hovered just inches from yours, his breath warm against your skin. “Promise me you’ll talk to me when something’s bothering you,” he murmured, his fingers drawing lazy circles on your waist that sent shivers rippling through you.
“I promise.” The words came out on an exhale, barely audible over the pounding of your heart. The air between you felt heavier, thick with tension.
“You even went drinking without me,” he added, the playful pout on his lips disarming in contrast to the intensity of the moment.
You couldn’t help the soft laugh that escaped you, your heart warming despite the charged atmosphere. “Cauldron, Cass, really?”
His grin softened, but his eyes never left yours. “I missed my best friend, too.”
You sat up straighter, planting your palms on his chest to create just enough distance to breathe. “I—I still don’t know how I’m supposed to act around you anymore… how to go back.” Frustration bubbled up, and you groaned, scrubbing your hands over your face without a care for the smudge of your makeup. “I need a drink.”
“Go back…” he echoed under his breath. His hand slid away from your waist as he reached for a shot, the absence of his touch a sudden, jarring loss. “I thought I’d get you drunk enough tonight to spill what the fuck was on your mind.” “I’m surprised you didn’t know.” You grimaced, taking the chilled glass from him and pressing it to your flushed face. The coolness was a welcome relief against the heat simmering beneath your skin. “Everyone knew. Literally. Everyone.”
Cassian’s wings twitched, tension rippling through him. “Yeah, I’ll be having some words with them later,” he muttered darkly, the sharp edge to his voice offset by the warmth in his eyes. He downed his shot, the sharp scent of liquor mingling in the air between you, intoxicating in its own way.
“I begged them not to tell,” you admitted, dazed as you watched his tongue dart out to catch the last drop of alcohol from his lips. Your breath hitched. Those lips—the way his tongue moved—flashed through your mind. The memories of sleepless nights, haunted by dreams of him, surged hotly. Your pulse faltered, and a tight, burning heat spread through your chest.
Your face flushed even deeper, the heat not just from embarrassment, but from the way Cassian’s gaze locked with yours, that knowing grin spreading across his lips like he could read your thoughts. You reached for the shot, desperate to regain some composure.
“Hey!” A sudden pinch to your waist jolted you, causing the alcohol to spill across your neck. You winced "Why’d you do that?" You reached for the spill, but his hand shot out to firmly grasp your wrist.
"Sorry, Y/n," he murmured, his voice low and laced with intent. “I wanted another taste.” His gaze fell to the liquor on your skin, and his body leaned closer, his presence nearly overwhelming. “Let me clean that for you.”
“Cassian, what are–” Your words caught in your throat, and you didn’t have the chance to finish as his warm tongue followed the path of the spilled drink, leaving a trail of heat in its wake. The surprise melted into a soft whine as his mouth moved to your neck, sucking and nibbling at the sensitive skin there. He paused, pressing a chaste kiss to your fluttering pulse point.
“I’m surprised you didn’t know,” he murmured, his words a quiet echo of your own. But you barely registered them, lost in the heat of his touch. A soft chuckle rumbled from him as your fingers instinctively tangled in his hair, pulling him closer.
“Everyone knew,” he breathed, his lips brushing your collarbone before returning to the crook of your neck, the warmth of his breath sending shivers down your spine. A breathy moan escaped you as his hands lifted you further onto him. “Literally everyone,” he whispered, teasingly repeating your words.
You could barely process what he was saying, not with his lips tracing your skin and his strong hands gripping you like he couldn’t get enough. Your fingers tightened in his hair, tugging gently, drawing a low groan from him that vibrated against your throat.
“How am I supposed to focus on what you’re saying,” you gasped, the words tumbling out between uneven breaths, “when you’re touching me like that… making sounds like…” You swallowed hard as his hand moved to rest lightly against your throat, the pressure intoxicating. “That?”
Cassian’s eyes darkened with amusement as he pulled back slightly, just enough to create a small space between his lips and your skin. A knowing, cocky smile tugged at the corners of his lips.
“You want me to stop?” he asked, his voice rich with teasing, each word a challenge.
“No—Maybe.” Your thoughts tangled into knots, the weight of his closeness stealing any coherent response. The idea of kissing him—of what it would mean after—tugged at you. Your lips quivered under the weight of unspoken words, and Cassian’s eyes dropped to them, his thumb brushing against the bottom one in a slow, deliberate motion.
“Never in my wildest dreams did I think I’d see you this flustered over me,” he breathed, his voice a velvety murmur. “So cute… It’s everything.”
The words hit like a bucket of cold water. The amusement in his expression, the teasing—it felt like a joke to him, just something to feed his ego. Something inside you snapped, and you pulled away, raw frustration and embarrassment bubbling up to the surface. “Stop saying things like that,” you whispered, your voice barely audible as you pushed against his chest, breaking free from his arms. His grip slackened just enough for you to pull away completely.
“Y/n, wait—” Cassian’s voice was strained, a thread of alarm creeping into his tone.
“No!” you shot back, your voice trembling with emotion. “Stop. It’s not cute. I’m not some… some game for you to amuse yourself with for the night, Cassian.”
“What?” He looked stunned, his brows furrowing in confusion as he reached for you again. “That’s not what—hold on!”
“I need air,” you muttered, your voice cracking. His hands reached out, desperate to stop you, but you slipped out of the booth before he could catch hold of you.
You didn’t look back as he called your name, his voice rising above the music and chatter. Instead, you moved quickly, weaving through the bodies on the dance floor. Your calculated escape took you through the densest part of the crowd, where his large frame wouldn’t be able to follow as quickly.
#acotar x reader#cassian acotar x reader#cassian acotar#cassian x reader#cassian x fem!reader#cassian x you#cassian x y/n#a court of thorns and roses#general cassian#acotar#acofas
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venus, are you there? (agatha harkness x fem!witch!reader)
💜 reupload sorry i fucked up and i'm really sad about it 💜
summary: your patron goddess, venus, has been distant lately. you don't know what you did to upset her, but your life and your powers have been suffering in her absence. you visit the local mage, agatha harkness, about your problem. as you come to find out, it takes a special kind of ritual to provoke the goddess of love.
warnings: lesbian sex duh (18+), DUBCON (innocent!reader is really into agatha's "counsel" but oblivious to her sexual intentions until they're doing the deed), historic westview AU (before it was a suburb, it was a magical village), agatha's improv skills, no beta we die like lilia
notes: after much rumination on the AAA finale, i've decided that being a lifelong liar and diabolical villain can only make a lesbian hotter. centuries is a long time to live, and my brain has gone wild thinking of all the messed-up ways agatha must have passed the time. i imagine she had some fun with the women around her—giving them the attention and stimulation they needed, regardless of whether they knew it or not. gotta keep the bed warm between all the power-stealing and mass murder, am i right ladies?
"agatha harkness, mother of witches, watches over westview from her dwelling on the hill. any spell you can't cast, she will."
so the story went, passed around among the women of the village. if they were to be believed, agatha ran an apothecary out of her home, a one-stop shop of sorts for witches in dire need of guidance. the locals spoke about her with admiration, and the tales of her magical miracles were legend.
hardly a day went by without some talk of agatha's feats: how she unbound someone's great-aunt after the woman had been powerless for decades, or how she rescued a friend of a friend from certain death after a nasty broomstick accident.
---
venus, goddess of love and beauty, had been guiding you all your life. when you were little, you saw her sometimes in the flower-dotted meadow behind your house—a spectral angel, wrapped in pink silk with her hand outstretched to you.
now, though, venus had been silent for nearly a month. her altar was covered in offerings, none of which seemed to please her. you tried every trick under the moon to lure your patron goddess out of hiding, but nothing stuck.
with every failure, things felt increasingly... off. out of the blue, your jewelry degraded to the point that it looked cheap and rusty. you felt tired more often; your skin grew cold and dry. then, you started to feel venus's absence in your relationships. when you got into a huge fight with your best friend over a random misunderstanding, you knew you had to do something.
---
bouncing anxiously on your heels, you waited for agatha to answer the knocks at her door. there was something foreboding about her house in all its gothic glory.
the intricately carved door swung open and there she was, the fabled mother of witches. long brown waves cascaded over her purple-clad shoulders, wild tresses gliding over a silken cloak. you hadn't expected her to be so gorgeous. you'd always pictured the local legend as a crone.
"can i help you, sweetheart?" her voice was warm and lilting. you were almost too staggered by her darkly striking looks to reply, and agatha seemed to know it. her eyes sparkled with amusement, and the corners of her mouth tilted upward.
"um, i hope so," you finally managed before steadying yourself with a deep breath. "venus is my guide, but she's been ignoring me lately. all my gifts and devotions have been worthless; i still can't find her."
"hmmm..." agatha hummed in contemplation, her brows furrowed and fingernails tapping rhythmically against the doorframe. moments later, she ushered you inside and closed the door behind you. "what have you offered her? do you have a proper altar at home?"
"yes, and i've tried everything: fresh roses and myrtle, sea shells, wine, honey, chocolate..." you trailed off as you noticed the scenery around you.
agatha's walls were covered from floor to ceiling in magical materials and aids. she had jars upon jars of herbs, petals and extracts; woven tapestries of pagan deities and common incantations; various crystals suspended in place, arranged to form rune-like symbols; and a massive "death" tarot card in a frame lined with wilted flowers.
as you looked around her home, awestruck, agatha gently nudged you toward her couch. you sunk into the black leather and surveyed the coffee table in front of you, similarly cluttered with witchy items like candles, incense, and a cauldron. agatha stayed on her feet, pacing back and forth while she pondered your situation.
"how long has it been since you last sensed her?" agatha asked. you felt your face heat up when she turned her intense blue gaze to you. you could practically feel the power radiating off of her.
"about a month," you answered sheepishly, wringing your hands in your lap. a look of intrigue flashed across the witch's face and she stalked toward you. soon, she was standing behind the couch where you were sat, her hands firm on your shoulders.
"you're a pretty girl..." she thought out loud, and you squirmed subtly in place at the compliment. "servant of venus, and it shows..." her fingernails traced barely-there spirals on either side of your neck, and goosebumps spread across your skin. satisfied, agatha pulled away to resume her pacing. "got anyone special in your life?"
"i-i'm close with some of the other witches in town, and my grandma lives in the next village over—"
"not what i meant, honey," agatha purred and perched herself on the couch next to you. "who looks after your needs?" you didn't reply, staring at her quizzically. she tried again. "cute thing like you must have a gentleman caller or two, no?"
"not at the moment," you shook your head. "although there was a man who passed through westview a while back, a traveler. he courted me."
"and were you intimate with this nomad?"
"he only kissed me once, right before he left town. said he'd be back for me."
"how did it feel?"
"p-pardon?" you stammered, not expecting to be grilled on your romantic history today—let alone by agatha harkness, who grinned like a cheshire cat at your shyness.
"magic-wise, i mean. acts of affection can trigger power surges, especially for witches who follow venus... if she approves."
"i don't remember sensing anything out of the ordinary," you shrugged. "i wasn't expecting to feel a spark right away; it was just nice to be admired."
"i'm sure, but you're a disciple of venus. do keep in mind: she rules over love, not self-esteem," agatha took hold of your hand while she advised you, sending a chill up your arm. "i have a theory. when did you meet this man?"
"five or six weeks ago, i'd say."
"then it sounds like your goddess was displeased with your choice of lover."
"what, so she's just gone? i kissed the wrong guy and she gave up on me?"
"oh no, sweetpea, you just have to get her attention again."
"how can i do that?" agatha paused at the question, surveying the room in all its magical madness.
"do you still have power?"
"yes," you said, extending your palm toward her—only your magic wouldn't spark. it fizzled, emitting blots of pale pink, but you couldn't get your powers flowing fully.
"oh dear! looks like your magic's not flowing right. it's still there, promise."
"how can you tell?"
agatha narrowed her eyes and gave you a smirk that made you clench your thighs together. then she surged forward, cupping your face and kissing you deeply before you even knew what was happening.
agatha's kiss was hungry, purposeful. her tongue lapped at yours while her fingers sent purple caresses along your jawline. she took your breath away and set your body on fire all at once. to your disappointment, she subsequently pulled away.
"see, lovebug?" she beamed at the sight of you with hooded eyes and kiss-swollen lips. then, she held your open palm up to your light of sight. "you've still got it."
sure enough, the glow of your magic was there. it was weak, but it was there, swirling in the center of your hand.
"why don't you try lifting that spell jar over there?" agatha gestured to a small object on a wall shelf. "the one with the pink wax seal."
you aimed your palm at the spell jar and focused your energy, but no matter how hard you tried, you couldn't harness the telekinetic power to make it budge. you huffed in frustration.
"don't lose hope, angel," agatha rubbed your thigh comfortingly. "i know a ritual."
"you can bring venus back to my side? really?" you perked up in near-disbelief.
"would you be here if you doubted me?" she quipped back, forcing a conciliatory head shake out of you. "didn't think so. now take your clothes off."
"what?" your eyes almost bulged out of your head, but your thighs clenched together involuntarily at the thought of the older witch seeing your body. one predatory smile from agatha, and your mind was officially at war with your body. she stroked your cheek in mock sympathy, but you could see the amusement in her eyes. she gestured to the wall opposite you both, plastered with photos and illustrations of nude witches dancing under the moon and wading into the sea.
"precious few magical rites involve fabric, darling," agatha soothed. "it's an unnecessary barrier between your energy and the earth."
reluctant yet hanging on her every word, you relented and stripped for her. there was a pleased glint in her eye while she watched your body intently. you peeled off your clothes, giving her occasional anxious looks while you bared yourself.
"good girl," she cooed, watching you shift uneasily from foot to foot. your nipples hardened at a chill, and you could swear her eyes darkened in response. you blinked, and she was in front of you, her robes mere inches from your naked body. after another blink and a rush of purple, you found yourself in another room in the sprawling house—what seemed, at a cursory glance, like agatha's bedroom. "pardon the change of scenery; this is the most magically protected place in the house. now," she gestured to a king-sized, plush purple bed. "on your back, gorgeous. get nice and comfy so we can draw out your power."
"are you gonna have me meditate? or, ummm, astral project?" you asked in arousal and disbelief.
"sure, more or less," she chuckled darkly. impatient, she sent you floating to the center of the mattress with a purple mist. standing at the foot of the bed, she stared at you like you were her last meal. you heard a faint, sparkling whoosh and looked up to see tendrils of violet flying from her palms, a knowing grin on her face. when her magic latched onto your skin and began to stroke its way up your thighs, she piped up again. "can you feel that, sweet girl?"
before you could respond, agatha pounced. she caged your body with hers and dove for a sensitive spot on your neck. she suckled, and you gave a breathy moan that seemed to excite her.
she made her way down to your sternum with sloppy kisses, then turned her attention to your breasts—squeezing and caressing them while you both sighed in pleasure. her hands were rough and greedy and felt so good.
"is this, ahhh, part of the—" agatha cut you off by pinching your nipple between her fingers, rolling it while threads of her magic danced around the sensitive bud. when she closed her mouth around your other nipple, your back arched off the bed, and the three candles on agatha's nightstand spontaneously lit. you gaped at the witch above you in shock. "did i do that?"
"sure did, superstar. i told you this ritual would draw out your power," the older witch said with a smugly victorious smile. she gave each of your tits a kiss farewell before reluctantly parting with them. then, she planted a meandering path of energy-infused smooches from your chest all the way down to your lower belly. even the gentlest touches of her magic electrified your nerve endings, making you writhe under agatha in a silent plea for more, more, more. "oh dear, aren't you needy?"
"yes, yes please agatha, i need you to..." you trailed off upon seeing the expectant, self-satisfied look on the woman's face. the clouds of your desire parted momentarily, and you finally realized what exactly you were asking the mother of witches to do for you (to you). agatha had seduced you into her lair, reduced you to a begging mess. you decided right then and there not to hold it against her. "finish the ritual."
"how could i deny such a polite request from such a pretty girl?" agatha cooed before snapping her fingers, pinning your legs open with her magic. your ankles were bound to opposite corners of the bed by shimmering purple cuffs of energy. agatha grinned wolfishly as she situated herself between your spread legs. "alright, baby, just relax. let yourself feel."
you released a shaky breath and closed your eyes in preparation for agatha's touch. at the first stroke of her fingers through your folds, you felt magic crackling in your veins. you tried to stay on top of the wave of power that threatened to overwhelm you.
"goddess, you're dripping. that's a good sign," agatha drawled, her eyes fixed on her fingers as they lightly stroked up and down your pussy. with no warning, her pointer finger found your clit and pressed down, eliciting a yelp from you. when she began to draw firm circles on the bundle of nerves, you cried out, and the candles on agatha's bedside table rumbled like they were about to tip over. "that's my girl. feels nice when i rub you there, hmmm?"
"s'good, agatha, please don't stop..." you babbled breathlessly, your hips bucking toward her hand. agatha made a low growling sound and laid her free arm across your abdomen, pinning your lower body to the mattress. then, while you were still reeling from her manhandling, she slipped two slender fingers inside you. "oh!" you squealed at the foreign sensation, the sudden fullness. her digits probed your pussy, searching for something. you squirmed as her long fingers combed your fluttering walls. "ag—ahhh, i feel funny."
"i know, sweetie, just bear with me for a second here. you're taking it so well," agatha's free hand twitched and sent a bolt of tingling purple warmth to your clit, rewarding your patience. you gasped and bit your lip to keep from screaming. agatha wasn't even touching your bundle of nerves, yet you could feel her playing with it all the same. while agatha chuckled at your barely-restrained desire, her fingers found your g-spot. this time, you couldn't suppress a keening moan. "oooh, i like that sound. stay loud, lovely girl; let venus hear you."
she emphasized her words with a hard stroke of her fingertips against your special spot, and you shrieked. your hands scrambled for purchase somewhere, anywhere, and ultimately clung to two threads tied to the bedframe above your head. you didn't remember them being there before, but you figured it was one of agatha's tricks. had you opened your eyes, you would have seen the rosy color of the glowing strings and realized that you, not agatha, conjured them.
"are you close, baby girl? i can feel your magic pulsing and flowing," agatha whispered with a sultry wink. you clenched around her fingers and she cackled, pressing her violet-charged thumb to your clit and doubling the energetic stimulation there. you yanked at the pink restraints above your head and writhed pathetically at her touch. "if the ritual is true, you're about to experience pure ecstasy. say my name when you do."
it was all too much. her fingers twisted inside you and brushed your g-spot while her thumb rubbed vibrating, sparkling circles on your clit. a wave of white-hot bliss crested over you, and you cried out: "agatha!"
"princess," the older witch soothed as she continued her ruthless strokes. she looked around in awe as the room was bathed in blushing light, your just-recovered power shining in the afterglow of your orgasm. but agatha didn't let up. she wanted a replay of your precious, pleasured face. when you tried to wiggle out of her grasp, she scoffed. "don't pretend you can't give me another because you're going to, little witch."
she then ducked down to mouth at your clit while sneaking a third finger into you, curling to hit your most sensitive spots with vibrating energy. she took your button into her mouth and sucked vigorously, which sent you floating over the edge once more. again you screamed her name, but this time you also reached for her free hand where it rested on your chest. her fingers eagerly intertwined with yours, and your magic reached out for hers—a pink orb yearning for a touch of purple, charged hands held together by attraction.
"come back to me, superstar," the older woman coaxed as your orgasm faded. she smiled and guided your palm into your field of view. there it was, as if it had never dimmed: your power. agatha had fulfilled her promise. "told you so. i could have stopped after one, so that second round was just for me—you're stunning when you come."
"you... you did it. you got her back," you whispered in disbelief and gratitude. "thank you, agatha. i don't know how to repay you for this."
"oh, i can think of a few ways," she laughed, leaning down to whisper in your ear. "how about you show me what you can do with all that power, honey?"
you sat up and stared at her, confused. she took your glowing hand and dragged it over her upper thigh, exposed by a slit in her dress. you took the hint, swiftly using your magic to vanish her clothes just as she'd done for you. you waved her legs apart and teased your way through her folds, savoring the feeling of her arousal on your fingers. agatha huffed.
"that all you got, daughter of venus? not even gonna touch me witch-style?" agatha provoked. you sighed but gave in, your index finger sending a beam of pink stimulation to explore her from the inside. she gasped and bucked her hips at you frantically. smirking, you lowered your face down to her pussy and started worshipping her clit. while you sucked the bundle of nerves into your mouth, your hands snuck up to agatha's chest. you tweaked her nipples with magic-tinged fingers, and the triple stimulation made the older witch fall apart. "such a good, sweet girl... don't stop, angel..."
you kept working diligently until the witch groaned and pushed you away with a wall of violet. you sat back on your knees and gazed at her, dazedly waiting for any sign of approval. as soon as agatha recovered from her high, she caught you by surprise with a deep, heated kiss.
"you, my darling, are full of surprises," agatha booped your nose as she pulled away. "and look at you!" she cradled your hand and pressed her finger into the center of your swirling, rosy magic. "got your groove back. i told you i'd fix ya right up, and the ritual wasn't so bad, was it?"
"n-no, it was... thank you," you stammered, still reacting to the ritual. "how much do i owe you?"
"don't be silly, toots," agatha said melodically while she wrapped her arms around you and lay back. "i believe in karma. you'll pay me back in kind someday, sugar; don't sweat it today."
"what if she leaves again?" you whispered, feeling agatha's shallow breathing against the crown of your head as she snuggled you. she shook her head, and you felt her nose moving from side to side.
"shhh, sweetheart," she cooed, running her fingers up and down the exposed side of your torso. "that's what i'm here for. any more problems, you come to me. i'd happily make you feel good as new."
satisfied, you burrowed into agatha's hold and drifted off to sleep. with the object of her desire finally at her mercy, agatha was pleased too. she thought about her next move; she'd need to possess another man to pursue you and throw off your powers again. you'd probably get wise to it after the third or fourth guy, but what could you do about it? try to kill her? agatha smiled at the day's work and breathed in your scent, lulling herself to sleep.
#agatha harkness x reader#agatha x reader#agatha harkness smut#agatha all along#agatha all along fanfic#agatha all along smut#marvel fanfiction#wandavision smut#reupload#sorry i deleted it idiot idiot idiot
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Okay so I read your entire fic in three days and I LOVE IT!? ITS SO GOOD!?! I am supposed to be studying for finals and instead have spent 72 hours definitely not doing that. I originally got into your fic because I saw your drawings from different scenes and OH MY GOD THEYRE AMAZING. The way you draw Seb makes me want to bang my head on the table (in the best way ever)…that boy does things to me. The whole thing is just uGHHH chefs kiss amazing work love it love you amazing
AWW TYY IM GLAD YOU LIKED IT SM (ENOUGH TO BINGE IT AND IGNORE SCHOOL) AND THAT YOU LIKE HOW I DRAW SEB TOO💖💖😍😍😍
LMAOO but fr as a procrastinator and horrible student myself, im pleased with this theme of interfering with ppls schoolwork/thesis/whatever else to read my fic...im dragging yall down with me...just stop using your brain and enjoy sexy seb aha😜 (ILY TOO GOOD LUCK ON UR FINALS)
@jstfndmthngs omg thank you for such a long and in depth ask i hope u dont mind i just screenshotted it and cut it into 2 BAHAHA but THANK YOUU im glad youre enjoying it so far!! 🥹💖AND YESSS BAHAHA IVE ALSO BRAINWASHED YOU TO SEE SEB AND CLORA WHEN YOU SEE A BLONDE + BROWN HAIR COUPLE mission accomplished😈😈 and I LOVE THAT YOU DAYDREAM ABOUT SEB AND CLORA TOO!!! people thinking about your fic/art when theyre not actively reading it is the highest honour fr...😭🙏 AND BAHAHA I REMEMBER THAT COMMENT THREAD ABOUT LEANDER AND HIS LITTLE GARDEN PATCH LMAO and him and seb competing as neighbors/dads over who has the better yard...LMAO im putting in my oneshot that leander lives close by, i might try and find a way to allude to that if i can LMAOO speaking of IM GLAD YOURE LOOKING FORWARD TO THE ONESHOT 💖💖 ive been working on the outline every day the past few days and its 24k words AND THATS JUST THE OUTLINE😭😭LIKE DAWG i was planning on this oneshot to just be short and sweet BAHAHA but i forgot im fluent in yappanese...then i just kept thinking of cute pregnancy moments i wanted to add so it spiralled....BUT ANYWAY I HOPE I CAN FINISH IT SOON!!🙏 also im so impressed you only read 1 chap of my fic a day BAHAHA i admire the self restraint bc i could never...but i feel you with wanting to make things last. LET ME KNOW WHEN YOU CATCH UP!!🥳AND TY AGAIN!!💖💖
omg anon this is diabolical...at first i was imagining it as seb being the one caught in the time loop and going crazy, but i actually think its better if its clora... because the idea of seb watching her slowly spiral into semi-insanity while knowing its bc of some weird time shenanigans and he doesnt know how to help would also make SEB go crazy BAHAHAH. i dont think ill ever write this but i just wanted to tell u i love this idea LOL
aw TYYYYY!!! i’m honoured u think so omg😭🥹💖 you sent this a while ago (before all of the recent family posting ive been doing) BAHAHA so i hope youre enjoying the kid content bc u manifested it girl🥰 and trust me i aint doing work for the fandom, the fandom is doing work for ME!!! by continuing to humour my brainrotted ass😔🙏
"they're my legal parents now" followed by "so anyway can you draw them going down on each other" LMFAOOOOO💀💀💀thank you i love you anon. and i HAVE been wanting to draw this for a while so YES!! i just cant guarantee when...but the day SHALL come rest assured🫡😇
#ask#goddammit as i was answering this ask i just remembered a scene i wanted to add to my oneshot that i forgot to include in the outline#GOD!! THAT MEANTS ITS GONNA BE EVEN LONGER THAN 24K WORDS!!! HELP!!! NO MORE!!! NO GOD PELASE NO#i rly should have expected that a oneshot all about seb being excited to get clora pregnant and then being overprotective would ramble on#ive been googling so much stuff about pregnancy and side effects and what happens during which trimesters#i really dont want my search history to think im pregnant LMFAO
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The following program is brought to u from the depths of the nin-burger server w the help of @ohai-there, who's additions are marked by indented text
Mm. Into the Kakashiverse fic. Many Kakashi's. All the Kakashi's.
Its told from Obito's POV actually and it's just 10k of him losing his goddamn mind over all the Kakashi's
@ohai-there :
huff huff huff
something goes wrong with his kamui and all manner of kakashis come falling out of his eye
Oh my god
Some of the Kakashi's are legit fighting over him and some just don't care
The little yokai kid Kakashi ends up being his guide into Kashiland or smthn idk
Trying to help him get back home
it happens every time obito thinks about kakashi too strongly
there are like hundreds of him within the day
He's thinking ab Kakashi ALL THE TIME
He can't turn it off !!!!
hes just mentally ill like that
Kakashi plague. Its terminal.
....he doesn't want to get better anyways
He is surrounded by infinite Kakashi's. Kakashi no jutsu
thaats so real of him,,,,
He can summon bunny suit Kakashi at a whim
bunny suit kakashi is the most often summoned...
You know that "go for it XXX!" Draw ur character here meme?
That but it's "go for it Obito!" And all the Kakashi faces are different Kakashi's from the ✨ Kakashiverse ✨
Ok so um. Um.
Yokai kid Kakashi borrowing from @ohai-there's design. Who's a little dimension hopper, who also lost his dad (who is also a dimension hopper)
And he's like. Hopping from world to world looking for his dad, right? And whenever he world hops he usually goes to that worlds Kakashi for help / bc Sakumo might be w him
And somewhere along the way he runs into our Obito and somehow gets Obito to agree to help him (the why and how doesn't matter)
But now it's Obito on a multiversity journey lead by a little yokai kid kakashi. Meeting all these different versions of Kakashi and losing his mind ab it
I'm picturing the actual dimension travel as like. Wandering down a dark corridor between worlds with kakashi holding a lamp, guiding the way
(Easy for Obito to wander off the path and get lost and end up in a new world)
Kid Kakashi is pouting and going "you're supposed to help me find tou-san!! Not get lost yourself >:("
Maybe Sakumo lost his own lamp which is why Kakashi is looking for him, he's presumably lost his guiding light back
like its so dark that obito's brain starts making up The Horrors while little kid yokai kakashi is just
:3
as they walk
YES. PERFECT.
"Don't look in the dark too long, your puny mortal mind won't like it"
poor sakumo,,,
he lost his kid and now hes lost himself 😔
There's a metaphor somewhere in there ab Sakumo always losing himself no matter the circumstances/world
fr
bro cant get a break
and kakashis always the one picking up the pieces 😔
Thinking . Whatever kind of yokai they are can access the path between worlds + are (mostly) immune to the horrors that lurk there
But their family has the special lamps that they need to actually know what they're going, so without that it's fucking useless to try and get wherever ur going, you will be lost forever, never able to find the world u want to find
You can stumble out into other worlds and all but like.
You have no control of it
And there's a decent chance you'll get trapped in the dark anyways so it's best to just stay put in the first world u find
Which is presumably what Sakumo's doing
thats so real of him
u know how u tell children if ur lost just stay there and ur parents will come find u
Its that but opposite
Dw Sakumo, Kakashi will find you! Hopefully.
hopefully,,,,
+ 1 obito
Kakashi following little broken fragments of his father's shattered lantern where Sakumo's made a path of where he's been
Following the breadcrumbs,,,
+1 obito! Can't forget him!
what kind of a universe is sakumo waiting in....
Kakashi is living in a grim dark fairy tail ab following the magic breadcrumbs to find his missing father he's been searching for for a long time now
Meanwhile Obito is living it up in a moderately horny crack fic eyeing up bunny suit Kakashi's and having a seizure over a world where Kakashi is in love with him and comes on real strong when they bump into eachother the first time
the genre is a matter of perspective fr....
also obito being sooo tempted to want to stay in the universe where kakashi loves him so openly
but then little kakashi just :(
obito: 😬 shit. ok let's go
Obito has Kakashi's THROWING themselves at him but he can't abandon babykashi's quest 😔
But later..........
later,,,,
Surely he can come back with kamui
Surely
OBITO KAKASHIVERSE SEX TOUR AB TO HIT UP EVERY OPEN AND WILLING KAKASHI IN THE MULTIVERSE 🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️ ‼️‼️‼️
🗣️ 🗣️ 🗣️
hes keeping a mental note of the path he had to take!!! of the vibes of each universe!!!
He had his sharingan ON when tracing the paths between worlds
And yeah, maybe he burned some of The Horrors Between Worlds into his brain forever bc of it. But you know what ELSE he burned into his brain??
IT WAS WORTH IT
what time obito is it too
post war??? he manages to survive somehow??? Or like when hes still doing his tobi thing
Tobi I think just bc hes at his most insane ab Kakashi
Peak humor and internal turmoil
based af,,,,
Tobi is being mistaken for the worlds real Obito in a world where Kakashi and him are married and just going w it. Yes, it is he. Ur husband. Who u married. Bc u are in love with him. And married. (Distant screaming noises)
Actually. Completely unrelated fic where Kamui allows Obito to dimension travel and he uses it to go to a dimension where him and Kakashi are married. And then he fucking murders the Obito there and takes his place, the end
Waaa art time!! Ohai also drew their own (honestly insane, beautiful, and tbb kind of stunning) piece [HERE] which you should look at immediatley.
Um. Um. Something about how Kakashi and Sakumo wear smthn over their eyes. And like how they're immune to the whole "Witnessing the horrors between worlds" thing. And like. Idk, implications there.
Are they truly immune to the horrors or is it the talismans on their faces that protect them? Who knows
immune to the horrors but also not immune to being lost without light
I'm gonna throw up !!!
Maybe the real lantern......was the light they made along the way........and when Sakumo lost his light....it was bc he lost kakashi...or smthn...
Is the lantern a metaphor for the will to live
It might be, who knows
kakashi wont lose his lantern as long as hes trying to find his dad,,
UGH!!! He starts to give up and his lantern cracks a little
STOP UR MAKING ME WANT TO MAKE THIS AN ACTUAL FIC WITH NAARATIVE I CANT DO THIS
Anyways. Final thoughts :
Obito living his best life in this one.
#birds fic talk#birds fanart#kkob#obkk#ohai#obikaka#kakaobi#kakashi hatake#hatake kakashi#obito uchiha#uchiha obito#naruto au#kakashi au#sakumo hatake#offscreen. but.#hatake sakumo#kakashi#obito#kid kakashi#naruto#naruto shippuden#yokai kakashi#art
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Hello friends! It's that time of year when it's time to escape into some nice fics with a hot cup of tea or cocoa. And while, Christmas fics are traditional, I've been reading some vampire fics that I had to share. And I read a vampire book that's SO R/S I had to include it on the list. (Extra spicy).
Below you'll find a link to the first Vampire list I ever made, as well as the new recs. Hope you enjoy!
Vampire Wolfstar Fics Pt. 1
Vampire Wolfstar Fics Pt. 2
New Blood by @gardenoflupins Remus comes to consciousness as a new and inexperienced vampire. In his disoriented state, he leaves a bunch of dead bodies lying around, which gets the attention of a much older and more powerful vampire named Sirius who guides him through the stages of vampirism.
What Lurks in the Shadows by @puuvillaa When Remus leaves work after dark, he encounters a vampire.
all the hot singles in your area are dead by @atroposaeneas The first vampire who comes to campus is annoying. The second one is an unwelcome, if begrudgingly pleasant, surprise. The third, fourth, and fifth vampires, on the other hand… No matter. Remus has been alive far, far too long to have his resolve broken on behalf of someone like Sirius Black.
My Roommate is a Vampire by @moonyverse “Remus! Why didn’t you tell me?” Lily asks. He continues wiping, focussing on a particularly stubborn stain. “Tell you what?” “About your secret boyfriend.” Remus spins around. “My what?” “Don’t act so surprised. Your neck is covered in hickeys and you thought I wouldn’t notice?” "Er, yeah… sorry." Remus wracks his brain to think of an excuse. Anything but the truth. He sputters out a lie, "It was a one-time thing, is all." It was better than telling her his roommate is a vampire whom he lets take his blood on a biweekly basis.
I'm starving, darling. by @marigold-hills “Dear gods you are gorgeous,” the man said before Remus could utter a sound. “I’m so sorry about this. Truly. I wouldn’t, but it’s a rather desperate situation you see.” I’m going to get mugged, Remus realised. Here, under the sharp stars, in the soft snow, by the hands of the most beautiful man he had ever laid his eyes on. And wasn’t that just his luck. “Trust me,” the man continued, “I am no more pleased about it than you are, but it’s a matter of life and death at this point, otherwise… well, sorry. Again.” Remus is accosted by a vampire on his way home. Strange in itself. But when the vampire realises he has anaemia, he starts bringing him food. And medication. And nice little treats to make him feel better. And - well. Remus never claimed to be a man of strong convictions.
A Taste of Your Love by starsnsoul “It’s dangerous out here at night,” Remus wet his lips, suddenly aware of how dry they were, “and we’re quite far from the nearest town.” The man in front of him continued to gaze up at him, eyes twinkling with a dangerous look, seeming to dare him to ask risky questions, to probe and let curiosity kill the cat. “What’s your name?” he asked, feigning ignorance to Remus’ concern. “Remus.” He answered without a second thought to who he was telling this to, something about the other man made him want to lay himself out bare, secret’s spilling out into the night air, all the good and the ugly. Something about the other man was dangerous but Remus felt the blood in his veins ignite at the thought. “Remus,” the man with eyes like the moon whispered, “I’m Sirius.”
aka. the one where Sirius is a vampire and Remus a cowboy and they fall in love {inspired by likeafuneral's art and a wip I had going on as well as my life growing up on a farm}
closer to heaven by @moonymoment “And you’re… high.” “As a kite, baby,” Sirius says, clicking his tongue. Remus inhales sharply. “High… on drugs. That kind of high.” Sirius looks at him. “Do I have to do the sarcastic bit again, or is this stare enough to indirectly call you stupid?” he asks, and then makes a Face™ at Remus that falls somewhere between “you’re ridiculous” and “you’re a knob”, although he can’t promise that “I’m morosexual and this close to taking my pants off” isn’t being conveyed as well.
BOOK REC:
Looking for a book similar to these fics? With characters that was SO FREAKING SIMILAR to Remus + Sirius that you're looking around fandom for the author? Check out this book with rich, hot, older vampire "Sirius" + nurse cinnamon roll "Remus". Roman by Grae Bryan 🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️
“And for the record…my demon does not just like you. It craves you. Is obsessed with you. Wants to own you and devour you and never let you go. You would run for the hills if you could hear what it thinks about you. What I think about you.”
Don't forget to share this list with your own recs and leave a comment for the authors. ❤️
Happy reading lovelies, The Wolfstar Librarian
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Of all the damage pseudo- spirituality has done to the human society, manifesting and femininity are constantly fighting for a top spot in my brain. Manifesting at LEAST has a truth to it and was going fine until all the online course gurus did their thing- femininity is just. What even. & if this only damaged the dating world which it was created to cater to I wouldn't mind so much but well.
The idea of 'dark' and 'light' femininity especially- what even. The human species is so interesting to me bc we will do everything but be natural. No other animal or plant does this, mind you. Not even orcas.
By "Light Feminine" do you mean blonde, blue eyes, pink make up and etiquette? By 'dark feminine' do you mean also white but black hair and darker (tanned) skin, dark eyeliner and manipulative? Basically Sabrina Carpenter X Megan Fox AU? ? I've read so much on both and literally NONE of that is femininity. Look at the world around you? Look at the feminine around you. The females of animals. The earth. The sea. Our mothers. Which of them acts like that? I want you to point to lioness or hamsterette (whatever female hamsters are called) and say okay so that is in it's light feminine and that's in it's dark. No no seriously. I'll even sponsor the whole expedition. I'm so curious. What feminine is the earth? Biege?
Femininity, is indifference. THAT IS IT. It is self centeredness. It is reciprocity. Everything else is masculine.
As a species I think sometimes we forget the maternal instinct is so strong in human females because we used to kill our kids? And not even millions of years ago I'm talking couple thousand? Hera? HERA. Sorry do you not watch Nat Geo? Have you never had a female pet? Maternal instinct is stronger that paternal because women are more likely to kill our children and end the species because femininity is serve me or die, and the only thing a child can serve is your maternal needs- , you know this right? You know lionesses kill their cubs when their daddy loses a fight? That hamsters eat their kids when they cant raise them to get back their nutrients? Spiders, have you heard of that? Natural selection, do you understand how that works? Female bees, you know hat they do to their males right? The earth, the epitome of femininity, Gaia- how long have you been alive? Your mom and your dad- and I mean the most loving mom vs the shittiest dads- who scares you more? Your sister or your brother?
Femininity, at its very core, is self-serving and indifferent what is that nurturing shit who came up with that and how blind are they? They had to invent entire complex religions and social norms to force women into giving birth what do you mean when you say you're naturally submissive? Admit you were watching corn on tumblr at 15 and it's conditioning what do you mean naturally? What nature where. Show me. Tell me yes it's natural for me to sleep around and get nothing in return its empowered look how this female does it too in nature. If you don't want to call it conditioning ok but nature? It's natural? Gaslighting your own self is crazy work but okay. Indifference is the only natural way to be feminine. Self serving. Nature watching her children fight for existence and only keeping the strongest, do you know how ruthless natural selection is? That's feminine because if you don't serve me why are you here? The most feminine women are the most self-serving. Shera7 entire aura is feminine because we all know she's selfish. The women that are self serving and centered win. And not just self-serving, self-centered to total indifference. I don't know why you want me to care about that but on the grounds it does not concern me, I will not be giving AF any time today and I'm offended you expect me to- indifference. I will be fine anyway mentality (WHEN IF WE TALK ABOUT JOURNALLING REMIND ME TO TALK AB THIS). This, also, is the baseline to manifesting by the way. I won't go there, ever, but if you want to manifest understand this- I will be okay regardless so why would I care? Not all that stuff you keep doing with the sage and numbers and maladaptive daydreaming x delusion in the name of acting as if.
Femininity is indifference. Self-centeredness. My way or no way. Everything else is masculinity (which, just so we are clear, is not a bad thing. Coming from a masculina).
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Okay I feel like so much of it was a blur but let me try and write what I remember and share some of my highlights!
- Before the show we heard screaming and everyone rushing the other side of the arena and were like who the FUCK has turned up??? Well now we know lol
- He is such a genius starting the show with AHDN because that first chord??? Instant Beatlemania
- Let Me Roll It ok ok ok listen. Not usually an old Paul fucker. Him taking his jacket off before and everyone cheering was funny. BUT then him slowly rolling up his sleeves and undoing his top button during the verses?? oooOOH let me at him 🥴
- He didn't tell the "Jimi asked me to tune his guitar" story like usual, was just like "he was a lovely guy, very humble" 🥺
- I don't know why but I found My Valentine so emotional?? I don't know, it's just Paul has lost so many people but I'm so glad that throughout his life he has always found people to love and who love him
- I've Just Seen A Face in front of the Cavern backdrop made me UNWELL
- Paul get everyone to do the little "oh-oh-oh-oh"s in In Spite Of All The Danger and then the crowd kept doing it when the the song was over and he looked so happy and it made him laugh so he did the last verse again AW
- Blackbird - I've heard him tell the story about seeing the kids going to school in Little Rock before, but he told a story about how he got a text from a lady in Jacksonville who saw The Beatles there when they refused to play a segregated show and she said it was the first time she had ever stood next to a white person. Glad he makes a point to tell these stories because it makes it very clear - this was not long ago in the slightest.
- Here Today, okay I've never seen him have an emotional wobble in person, he's got through it okay. Every time I've seen him have a wobble in a video it's been on the "I love you" line. But this time he kind of had a moment on the "I really loved you and was glad you came along" and oh man. It's just so sad, isn't it? It's so sad.
- Now and Then, he had a little moment to admire the heart cards the crowd held up and it was very cute!!
- He started telling the story of the lost bass and then brought it out to play it and it was SO surreal to be in the same room in that guitar. He was like "I'm going to play it for the first time in 50 years" and then twanged the strings and was like "Well, it sounds like a bass!" djskf
- Get Back with the lost bass and Ronnie Wood was just so fun and they all looked like they were having so much fun!
- Let It Be was really beautiful, everyone lit up the arena with their phone torches. It was so special. Afterwards, he looked out to the audience and says, completely serious, like your dad giving his best advice "Let it be. There will be an answer. Let it be." I love him so much.
- Live And Let Die, one of the loud fireworks accidentally went off in the middle of a verse and scared the LIFE out of me. I jumped a mile and then looked back over to Paul who was just laughing djkdg. Him covering his ears for the last explosion at the end is so cuuute too he's the funny uncle at the party it's true.
- I've Got A Feeling. Ohhh. Sweet boy. Seeing him sing with John. Hearing John's voice ring through the arena so clearly. It's a lot.
- Paul: "We've got another special guest for you" Me: 🧐🙏 The Crew: *start dragging a drumkit on* Me: 😨 Paul: "Ringo Starr!" Me: 🥴😵
- IT WAS UNREAL!! THEYRE SO CUTE. Ringo truly is so little aww and they had a cuddle and Paul kissed him on the forehead. Honestly the affection between them was palpable, I dunno how to describe it. Just really fond.
- Lowkey Sgt Peppers and Helter Skelter were a blur bc my brain was just going PAUL AND RINGO SAME ROOM 50% BEATLES
- Then Abbey Road Medley went way too quickly and was all over so soon sighh
- He kissed the camera on the way out 😘😘 Love him to bits forever & always
#sighh sigh#paul mccartney#got back tour#oh on a personal note#i had a cold yesterday#and today i have NO VOICE AT ALL#thanks paul x
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Tired and sick, may I get some Once upon a withlight headcanons to ease my weary soul?
aaa hope you feel better soon snuggles 🫶
this is one I actually have to put a little brain power into bc I actually haven’t thought super hard about this
- I think kremy and Gideon never verbally apologize to each other after a fight, both of them are way too prideful and awkward for that. Kremy I think would take it like a mom who cuts up fruit for you instead of apologizing. He doesn’t explicitly acknowledge that anything happened or is wrong but Gideon will be moping in the corner and kremy will be like “I made dinner, are you gonna come eat with me or what?” and instantly all is resolved. On Gideon’s part, I think it’s a combo of big sad puppy eyes and acts of service, just constantly going out of his way to do things for kremy to try to make up for it. I think gid does that a lot just anyways but he goes especially hard on it when he’s trying to apologize after a fight
- also coalecroux focused, these guys are so weird about physical affection. it’s either they are extremely awkward and strange about it or they are literally inside each others skin, no in between. Like I think with these two having been together for as long as they have, they have very naturally gotten super used to constantly hanging on to each other and having their arms wrapped around each other like second nature, neither of them even really realize they do it, but the SECOND anyone comments on it or causes them to think about it for even a second, they are instantly ten feet apart from each other and all awkward and sputtery about it. freaks, I hate them (affectionate)
- Frost is the kind of person who will appear to be completely doing his own thing and not paying attention at all when other people are talking but he is actually extremely engaged in the conversation, he just doesn’t feel the need to hold eye contact or stop doing what he’s doing (which is probably like reading a book or something similar which would appear to hold all his attention). Gricko is the most used to this and entirely unfazed by it but it takes most others a little while to understand it
- Gideon and Twig scheme about pranks to pull on frost together. Either that or just ganging up to make fun of him (affectionate) in general
- Twig tries to help show torbek how to clean and take care of his fur a little more. He’s not particularly good at it on his own but he’s trying and he appreciates it immensely
- frost. Kitty tendencies. he tries like really really hard not to show most of his cat qualities very often bc he does not want to draw attention to them but he has found himself making biscuits around people without realizing more than once
- Hootsie with each of the different krew members I think are all very fun dynamics. Frost is father #2 to her and will usually be the one taking care of her if gricko cannot as he is generally the most responsible and capable when it comes to taking care of her, though he will definitely sneak her more rat snacks than she’s supposed to have. Kremy is like the rich gay aunt who will absolutely spoil her rotten if given the opportunity. He never means to but he can never resist doing so. He will go full Karen mode to give her the world. I imagine hootsie in Gideon’s care like one of those movies where the plot revolves around a babysitter and the kid their watching going on a big wacky adventure and needing to get home before the parents do, and no matter zany the hijinks, they will always get back home and act like absolutely nothing happened when the parents do get home. He is one of hootsie’s favorite to play and cuddle with but he should probably not be solely responsible for her for extended periods of time. Torbek and hootsie are like bffs and also are great cuddle buddies but similarly he should never be left solely responsible for her it would not go well.
#axel’s silly little thoughts#once upon a witchlight#ouaw#not very many but <3#I like thinking abt these guys doing domestic life and being at peace#I need them to be happy.#maybe one of these days I’ll be able to put the words to how good coalecroux’s dynamic of slowburn and mutual pining is#they genuinely drive me so insane#I’m not usually super into this general kind of trope but their dynamic is so unique and well executed that I am absolutely ill about them
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