#non con aftermath

[scratchandplaster]

Aftermath of Drugging

CW: discussions of non-con drugging, spiking food, medical whump, overdosing, drug abuse, addiction, death, brief BBU-mention

Using drugs as a whump method is pretty common, and rightly so! As one of my favorite tropes, it was interesting to think about how they could affect the Whumpee after the act itself, be it physical or mental.

That's why I made a little compilation (for me and you), if you feel like agonizing your Whumpee even further. There are also some examples in between, for your entertainment!

The research is mostly relating to any downers, meaning any drug that makes you calm or fall asleep, so anesthetics, hypnotics or sedatives. Examples include ketamine, Rohypnol, GBL, propofol and heroin.

Uppers on the other hand have the opposite effect in stimulating the human nervous system. Some of the effects that are noted below are applicable to both kinds of drugs, but keep in mind that stimulants are more of an afterthought in this list. I'm going to recap the effects of both at the end.

I'm not a pharmacist by any means, but as far as reliable research for creative writing goes, this should suffice. No one is going to fact-check your whump fic, bestie 🤍

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

By method:

Ingestion (forcing them to take pills, spiking their food)

→ General indigestion, nausea, dry mouth

Injections via syringe or continuous administration through an IV drip (e.g. in medical settings)

-> Swelling/tenderness/infection/bruising of the injection side

-> High fever (even days after the injection)

→ Anaphylaxis: skin rash, chest tightness, dizziness, nausea, facial swelling

Anaphylaxis is an all-body allergic reaction that can cause mild to severe and even deadly symptoms (shock or coma). It can escalate and should be immediately treated with a shot of adrenaline. This kind of reaction could be detrimental to Whumper's plans, especially if they intend to keep Whumpee alive for the foreseeable future. So it would be helpful for them to always carry an EpiPen, just in case...

Inhalation (gas or liquid)

→ High risk of choking and (sleep) apnea

-> Irritation of throat, nose and eyes

-> Throat spasms (Laryngospasm)

Includes coughing, difficulty breathing/speaking and the feeling of suffocation. Even though this kind of spasm fades away pretty quickly, they cause severe stress and panic to the aggrieved party, even leading up to lose consciousness again.

Physical side effects:

-> Drowsiness/tiredness, headaches/migraines, tinnitus

-> Dry mouth/throat or excessive drooling

-> Dilated pupils (causing Whumpee to be light-sensitive)

-> Slurred speech

-> Skin rash, itching, hives

-> decreased/increased appetite (give them a little snack...or not)

Motor skills:

-> Muscle relaxation, ataxia (lack of movement control), general weakness

-> Poor coordination

-> Tremors, cramps, spasms

-> Numbness, paralysis of the body or extremities (a local anesthetic would also do that trick)

Vegetative effects:

-> PONV: nausea, vomiting, retching

-> Cold shivers or hot flashes, acute sweating

-> Arrhythmia, low blood pressure and heart rate

-> Labored breathing

-> Vertigo

The physical consequences alone can make the wake-up process a living nightmare for Whumpee. Any after-effects that inhibit them from just getting up and escape are probably the worst in such a situation, making them weak and useless even if no restraints are involved. Imagine Whumpee just breathing heavily and quivering with cold shivers on a basement floor, unable to shake this uncomfortable feeling off. Their whole system is just trying to get the drugs out, but doing more damage than intended. Numb to the world around them, not even feeling if they are hurt or wounded. Or imagine the complete opposite: Them being able to get up and stumble to the exit, only to be overwhelmed by intense dizziness and collapsing back onto their knees. All the while Whumper watches, of course 👀

Did Whumpee eat beforehand?

Prior to any anesthesia, the person has to fast for at least six hours beforehand. Because Whumpees rarely plan their own kidnapping or non-con high, Whumper should wait for the right moment to get it done. Otherwise, they're risking aspiration or choking and therefore dangerous lung damage up to death; surely the most undesired outcome. Who would have thought that drug abuse can be dangerous...

Impure compounds? In my illegal drugs!?!

If your Whumper's stash really was cut with popular diluents e.g. other medication or lactose, the risks are surprisingly low. The threat of overdosing still comes from the main drug agent. However, mixing downers and uppers to cancel each other out can lead to a dangerous cycle, which amplifies the side effects and increases the risk to OD.

Mental side effects:

-> Nightmares, paranoia around food/drinks

-> Depression, anxiety, self-loathing (e.g. for not being careful enough)

-> Psychosis, hallucinations (optic, acoustic, in terms of taste etc.)

-> Dissociation, confusion, disorientation

-> Insomnia

-> Reduced anxiety or inhibitions

Now instead of being afraid, Whumpee could go batshit crazy and make fun of Whumper; spitting, biting and insulting their aggressor. An outburst they will probably regret later, when they're calm again and sober enough to understand the damage they have caused themself.

-> Memory loss/amnesia

Cue intimate Whumper, who just plays the part of a worried friend while keeping their love safe and controlled. Vague recollections of past abuse? No, just take another sip from your tea, it's alright... One could use drugs as a mean of removing memories altogether, I think in the BBU the "drip" is used to erase the whole personality of the Whumpee, making them a blank slate to train however one would like.

Withdrawal:

-> minutes or even days after the initial drugging

-> extreme anxiety up to paranoia

-> nausea, vomiting, indigestion

-> muscle aches

-> flu symptoms like a runny nose, sweating and fever

Depending on the kind of drug and how often it is used, withdrawal can start after just one dosage. "Not even once"-drugs include meth, heroin and crack cocaine. Also, barbiturates have a high risk of dependence. Speaking of it...⬇

Addiction as a long term effect:

-> Organ damage especially of the brain, liver, kidneys and the diseases that follow (including cancer, short weight, heart failure)

-> Loss of interests, behavior/personality change

-> Selling all valuables and ending up in poverty

-> Aggression/violent behavior

-> Shame and guilt

Isolated, financially and mentally unstable, Whumpee's life had been ruined with just a single act. Even Caretaker turned their back on their former friend. But Whumper would love to help Whumpee become sober again, under just a few conditions. On the other side of the spectrum: a Whumpee who finally managed to escape and take revenge on their abuser, they slowly but surely make Whumper ruin themself through their newly developed little habit...

To sum up:

Downers (decrease bodily functions and calm you down)

→ Unconsciousness, weakness, distortion of perception, failure of motor functions, coma

-> Common examples: Xanax, ketamine, propofol

Vs.

Uppers (stimulate bodily functions and mood)

-> reduced inhibitions, more prone to hallucinations, psychosis, seizures, serotonin syndrome (high heart rate, sweating, twitching, mania)

-> Common examples: meth, ecstasy, cocaine

Bonus: How to store your Whumpee!

The immediate consequence of drugging someone is to figure out how to keep them. Get them secluded and ready for whumping:

-> In the backseat, foot space or trunk of a car (use an ambulance, it's inconspicuous)

-> You know these roof boxes people strap on top of their car? Stuff ´em in there!

-> Put them in a box and ship them overseas

-> Basements are classics, but try the attic for a change

-> Just use a coffin, combined with an old hearse nobody is going to notice

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Thanks for reading 🤍 [Masterpost]

[promptsforyourwhumpfic]

Whump Prompt #1057

Anon asked: 

Prompts to do with the Whumpee losing their wings?

How were the wings lost?

A traumatic injury - were they broken beyond repair?

Were they torn off in a freak accident?

Were they cut off by a collector/torturer?

Through a magical ritual in which someone deems them unworthy of having wings?

They feel unbalanced after losing their wings; it takes them a lot of time to get used to walking without the added weight. People still ask them why they’re careful walking around places with items that can be knocked over - it’s just from instinct that they now have to unlearn. 

They get phantom pains/itches from feathers they no longer have.

Maybe they carry around a scale/feather (whatever the wings were made of), as a way to carry around that part of themselves. 

The scars on their back are huge. They’re ugly and jagged and tender to the touch. 

If their wings are sold: how do they feel when they come face to face with them framed in the villains lair?

Are they outcast from their family/people seeing that they no longer have their wings? How do they make it on their own?

Now that they have to walk everywhere, they are exhausted - they have to relearn their limits. 

[chicabae]

Whumptober Day 1- Adverse Effects

Read on AO3  CB’s Whumptober Collection here

Numb3rs

Lancer dies before he pushes the final plunger, how does this change Colby's rescue?

Colby struggled against the bindings of the chair as Lancer stalked closer. He brandished the last syringe with a twisted smile. “Well Mr. Granger, seems like even your team is too late,” Lancer stabbed the needle in and began to press down. It felt like a stab wound when he heard a shot ring out. Colby’s eyes widened when Lancer fell to the floor, a bullet hole appearing in the center of his forehead.

“Colb, look at me, man!” Carter came around and began to shake him. Colby looked at him, disbelieving that recent events actually happened. His chest felt like a mountain was resting on top of it, each breath became more difficult than the last. He kept staring at the syringe still lodged in his chest, taunting him. The pressure on his chest began to increase, his breathing coming out in gasps. His nerves were on fire, when Dwayne got closer and grabbed his shoulder to steady him he let out a strangled cry and tried to shift away.

Two more shots rang out and Dwayne was suddenly on the floor, gazing up at him with vacant eyes. Colby felt tears well up in his eyes, falling down his face in rivers of pinpricks. A hand clapped onto his shoulder and Colby couldn’t stop the strained shout he let out, more tears falling as he panted for breath. Leaning his head back, his bleary eyes focused on the figure above him. David? No, David would never come after him. Maybe it’s the hallucinations kicking in. The hand left his shoulder as he closes his eyes and try to catch his breath. When he opens them again, the image of Don crouched in front of him, saying something he couldn’t understand. Then a burning sensation in his chest had him screaming. God, it hurt so bad. Fake-Don had the syringe in his hand, face pale, as he read what it contained.

The pressure suddenly released from his wrists. Looking down groggily, Fake-David was cutting his restraints free. He was a little too aggressive in cutting, he nicked Colby’s wrist, creating searing pain to race up his arm. With every shout, every gasp, every breath, Colby could feel his chest getting heavier, his lungs slowing down.

When Fake-Don and Fake-David lifted him and carried him to the deck, he didn’t have the breath to scream like he wanted to. His head rolled on his boneless neck, blinking in the sunlight before black spots began to cloud his vision. He could see Don and David, were they really here, or was his brain playing a cruel joke on him?, yelling above him, sometimes at him. The spots became bigger, his lungs stuttered with the lack of air. He felt his eyelids begin to droop, slowly encompassing him in darkness as he stopped breathing.

–

Colby flinched when he heard the screeching of machines. Blinking awake, the blinding white of the room made him quickly shut his eyes. Something was covering his face, and as he tried to paw it off, he was stopped. A hand grabs his wrist and pulls it back down, causing Colby to flinch at the touch. Opening his eyes again, he saw a shadow next to him. He struggled to focus, but the image of Don became clear next to him.

“Hey, buddy,” he whispered. “You’re finally awake.” Colby blinked and tried to move but was stopped again. “I can’t let you do that buddy,” Don spoke softly. “You nearly cut open your throat out last time, do you remember?”

Colby slowly shook his head, breathing becoming more difficult. The longer he was awake, the more he became aware of the bandages on his arms and throat.

“Do you remember anything?” Don asked again. Colby is silent and still, eyes locked on his fingers, crusted in blood, his blood. “The drugs Lancer gave you, they reacted to each other in ways the doctors couldn’t expect. For the first few hours, you had to be intubated just to breathe and when you were finally breathing again, you started to hallucinate.” Colby closed his eyes and nodded, he remembered what the drugs did.

Don shifted in his seat next to him. Colby gestured for him to continue. “You really hurt yourself, Colby. You’ll have some scarring.” He tried to raise his hand again to feel his neck. Don watched him carefully as his fingers skirted along the bandages. When Colby caught sight of his bloodied fingers again, he felt a sob escape him. Tears followed as his hands began to tremble and Don jumped in to hold him. Colby tucked his face into Don’s chest, shuddering breaths wracking his body.

“You’ll be okay Colby, I promise,” Don spoke into his agent's hair. When he felt Colby stop crying, he laid the exhausted man back against the pillows. He looked so worn, face drawn tight even in sleep.

[perlelune]

Young God | Feyd-Rautha

The mercy you show towards an enemy in the aftermath of battle yields tragic consequences for you and your people.

Warnings: NON-CON, Fremen!Reader, Kynes!Reader, Kidnapping, Unrequited Love, Mentions of cannibalism, Knife Play, Masochism

This is a dark story. Heed warnings before reading under the cut.

The aftermath of battle is often the same ritual. Corpses are taken away to scavenge for bounty and salvage the water in their bodies. Moisture is too precious, too rare in the air and the dry desert sand covering your home world to be wasted. Harkonnen foot soldiers especially. No sympathy is spared for the cruel beasts who slaughter your fellow fremen, ravage your land, and bleed your beloved home planet Arrakis of its most valuable resource. The Spice. 

Today is one of these days. After fending off another attack by the Harkonnen army, your entire tribe is sifting through the desert fields. The proud white-skinned soldiers weren’t expecting the swarm of Fremen that unleashed upon them. Thankfully Muad'Dib had a vision of the attack and managed to convince enough of your people to raise their blades in unison to stand against their oppressors. While you balk at violence, preferring to stay back and sink into your role as a healer, you still wish to offer assistance in cleaning up the battlefield and checking for any potential injuries. You were a little shocked when you arrived and were struck with the realization that there is so little for you to do, the number advantage having been so overwhelming.

Still, you find a few warriors that require medical attention. Their injuries are deeper than you expect. Apparently one of the Harkonnen soldiers wouldn’t let himself be slain, unleashing a storm of fury all on his own and taking several down with him. You gingerly finish dressing your last wound, lifting your head as you notice your cousin heading north. 

Wiping the blood on your hands with a rag, you get to your feet.

“Chani, where are you going?” you inquire.

She stares ahead, crysknife in hand, determined.

“Some may have survived and slipped away from us. We’re checking the caves nearby.”

You give a nod and follow after her. “I’ll come with you.”

While your voice didn’t waver earlier, your stomach is in knots as you join the search. You and Chani split up. She points in a direction and you acquiesce, rushing the opposite way. You sneak underground, climbing down a row of steep, slippery rocks before you find a small cave.

You practically have to crawl the rest of the way inside, the lichen-draped overhang almost too bent and crooked for you to advance any further. It’s no wonder no one thought to check this place. It’s hard to imagine any wounded Harkonnen soldier gathering the strength to hide in such a place.

You’re forced to swallow your words however when you find the outline of a pale form lying across the cave floor. 

Your jaw drops. You inch closer to the corpse, already planning on calling another Fremen to help you extract the water from the body.

But the man’s chest lifts, his mouth shuddering ever-so-slightly.

Tamping down your fear, you hunker down and inspect his armor. Your brows knit. A long, deep jagged cut slashes his side. The kind of deadly injury that makes you wonder how the man is still breathing, as it’s impossible no internal organs haven't at least been nicked. 

Yet, somehow he is, still breathing that is.

Though you gather not for long based on the way blood gushes from the wound. 

You hear your name called from outside the cave. Pulse soaring, you climb your way out of the concealed shelter with haste. 

You’re faced with Chani’s questioning stare. She must be done with her own search. You note the tinge of crimson on the tip of her blade. Your insides wrench. 

The lie flows from your tongue with frightening ease.

“I already checked that one. It’s empty.”

She nods and walks away. You wait for her to be at a safe distance to return inside the cave.

As your slow, fearful steps bring you closer to the wounded man, your mind rages, at war with itself.

You are of two worlds. Daughter of the fallen Liet-Kynes, imperial planetologist, and a member of the Sietch Tabr. The Harkonnen are your people’s ancestral enemies. Oppressors who annihilate whoever stands between them and their unquenchable thirst for more wealth and power.

They are monsters. There is only one rational thing to do when one is faced with one of the pale-skinned warriors. Only one thing that is right to do.

You unsheathe the crysknife at your thigh from its scabbard. The blade is shimmery and new. So perfectly sharp. For you have never used it. Not even once.

You approach his unmoving form and lift the blade high in the air.

The crysknife in your hands quivers above his chest. It’d be so easy to end it. So quick. Over within a few minutes. You’ve seen countless members of your sietch do it, not a sliver of hesitation in their smooth, practiced motions. Some even enjoy it, reveling in seeing that spark wither in their enemies’ eyes. 

For a moment, you let yourself wonder, picture yourself snugly gripping the blade and driving it through the Harkonnen’s alabaster throat. The watery coughs he’d let out. The blood seeping from his neck and pooling around him. The light in his onyx orbs flickering before going out.

It should satisfy you. After all the evils they’ve inflicted upon your people, upon your planet, the prospect of retribution should fill you with immeasurable joy. 

Yet it doesn’t. Chest heaving, you slowly lower the weapon until it slips out of your hands, its clattering echoing in the cave.

Your shoulders sag as you unleash a tremulous breath, one you didn’t notice was even caged inside your lungs.

An unyielding truth swaddles you as you watch your pale-skinned enemy draw feeble, dwindling breaths. You can’t take a life. You are a healer, through and through.

You gasp when you suddenly feel the cold bite of metal against your throat.

Your eyes widen. The Harkonnen is awake, heavy, wheezing breaths bursting from his chest as he presses the blade against your neck.

“I-If you kill me, you will not survive,” you stammer, your chest clenching in fear. 

He shocks you by flipping the blade and handing it to you.

“Then give me a warrior’s death,” he says, his gaze unwavering. You study him. He looks worse than before. What he just did must have taken his last bit of strength. 

Steadying your hammering heart, you glower at him.

“The glory you seek isn’t in a dank cave, Harkonnen.”

As soon as he collapses over the cold, hard stones, you get to work. First, you check his pulse. Though it’s faint, you find a steady heartbeat. He must be quite strong, you surmise. You’ve never seen anyone survive this long with an injury this deep. Logically, he should be dead. 

But he isn’t. So while you shouldn’t feel this way, every fiber of your being craves to pull him from the brink. 

You peel the layers of his armor off him. Heat nestles inside your cheeks as your gaze roams over the hard, defined planes of his muscular form. You shake off the sensation, reminding yourself that you can’t proceed unless you have complete access to the wound and need to assess for other potential injuries.

You reach for your medpak and pouch. You use a mix of wound sealant and medicinal herbs to curb the bleeding. You then clean the wound with antiseptic and press onto it firmly. Eventually, it stops. Once the bleeding is under control, you pull out a needle and thread from your pouch and begin sewing the wound. Every stitch is nice and neat, so tight that you know he will barely scar. You squint as you work, the dim lighting of the cave making you miss the right spot in his skin a few times. You keep a cool head the entire time, simply starting over whenever necessary.

After the wound is sealed, you set up a hypovial with a plasma bag. Finding the bulging vein in his arm isn’t too hard. It’s quite easy in fact, as every part of him appears carved from stone. You slip a dash of spice melange in the IV. A potent cinnamon smell fills the air. Just the right amount to keep him awake. Now that his life isn’t on the line anymore, his peculiar body chemistry should do the rest and recover.

You unleash a deep breath and wipe the sweat doting your forehead. You sag against the cave wall.

Your eyes drift to the night sky, visible through a small opening in the overhang.

For the first time since you snuck inside the cave, the tension woven through your limbs comes loose.

Nights on Arrakis are a thing of beauty. You are willing to bet there are no more beautiful skies in the entire galaxy. None so clear and vast and with stars twinkling this bright. Mother used to say the same thing, that the boundless empyreans of Arrakis were the most beautiful sight she ever laid eyes upon. And as an imperial envoy, your mother traveled far across the known universe. So she must have been right.

You cast one last glance at the Harkonnen warrior. He’s stable. Or stable enough at least. 

It’s time for you to return to your sietch before too many questions are asked.

“You were gone a while,” your cousin blurts out when you return to your sietch. You weigh her tone. There is no suspicion laced in it, just curiosity.

“I was just making sure we didn’t forget any of them,” you casually reply.

Chani heaves out a deep sigh. “You don’t have to. You have no heart for killing, cousin.” She turns her focus to the rest of your tribe. “We need you here, tending to our wounded. It’s where you shine best.”

You nod in acknowledgement. No one in the sietch ever expected you to fight but you often wish that you could do more. You think of your mother’s untimely death, of the way Fremen laid down their lives today. Your heart sinks. If anyone learned of what you did, you would be exiled. Rightfully so. Your eyes wander to your cousin, now besides Paul Atreides. Longing gazes lock and fingers twine before they disappear into their shared tent. You look away.

You hope one day that twisting inside your chest whenever you see them will cease. You are happy for them; you truly are. Nevermind that you felt a pull towards the heir of House Atreides from the moment you met him, that you felt it was returned when his gaze rested upon you. That all of it vanished the moment his eyes crossed Chani’s.

A seer from your tribe foretold that a woman in your family would have a great destiny, one that will change the fate of worlds. You now understand, that woman is Chani, and she and Paul aren’t just destined to one another. They are fated.

And who are you to stand in the way of fate?

“You must be insane, girl,” the Harkonnen soldier scoffs as you remove the needle in his arm. Since he appears to have regained some color…or whatever consists of “color” for a Harkonnen, you elected to remove the plasma bag this morning.

A sliver of shame flutters through you that you were almost relieved to find him alive. You saved a life. Perhaps not the most worthy one, but a life nonetheless.

“Striking an enemy while he’s down isn’t brave,” you reply with nonchalance.

A crooked smirk cants his plump lips, baring a hint of the black teeth underneath.

“Insane and stupid then,” he sneers, the gristly echo of his voice resonating in the cave.

Ignoring the way his comment chafes you, you retrieve the little vials you packed this morning.

“Drink that.” He sits up, humming low in his throat with the movement when you’d expect him to wince or groan at the pain. It’s almost like he’s enjoying the pain he surely must be experiencing, but you discard that thought, because it’s ludicrous. What kind of person enjoys pain? “It’s water.” He studies you, making no move to grab the water. You fidget, unnerved that you can’t read his expression, his lack of eyebrows making it even more difficult. “I could only steal a little from the deathstill. It’s all I could get before anyone could see me.”

You briefly considered trading your mother’s water rings, the ones you inherited upon her death. The symbol of her standing and wealth within the Sietch Tabr.

Though while you may have saved your enemy, you want to hold on to that piece of her for as long as you can.

“I also have some food.” You rummage through your pouch to pull out dried fruits, slices of meats, bread and spice honey. It’s the best you could gather on short notice without drawing suspicion.

His dark gaze flicks over you as he taunts, “Perhaps I shall eat you. You look far more appetizing than…whatever this is.” You shudder, acutely aware that while cannibalism isn’t widespread amongst the Harkonnen…it’s also not unheard of. 

He snickers at your expression. “Do not fret, desert rose.” His gravelly voice drips with suggestion as he licks his lips. A chill runs through you as his black tongue and teeth are bared to you. “I’m not quite that hungry…yet.”

Your shift, discomfort slithering through you. There is something profoundly unsettling about the Harkonnen, even more so than a typical one. The blood leaking through the bandage draws your gaze.

“I should dress your wound and redo the stitching,” you offer, clearing your throat.

When your hand stretches towards his wound, he growls at you.

Your heart leaps and you retreat your hand.

“Please,” you insist. “You’re bleeding.”

When he doesn’t make another threatening sound, you take that as your cue. You quickly gather your supplies and approach him. The drumming of your heart inside your ears is a clamor, but you pretend it isn’t there, removing the bandage and driving the needle through his wound to sew it shut again. He doesn’t flinch, showing no hint of even feeling the needle. His sizzling scrutiny sears through your flesh, almost causing your usually steady hands to quake. You sharpen your focus, remembering your grandmother’s teachings. Steady heart, steady hands.

He tilts his head, dark gaze trained on you. “I threaten to eat you and you tend to me still. What a peculiar creature you are, desert rose.”

The days fly by in a strange haze, your days spent preparing for the new Reverend Mother while you sporadically check on the stranger. He recovers faster than you expect, even without you needing to use the spice melange again. Considering he was at death’s door when you found him, you can’t help but be a little amazed.

You sense the time to go your separate ways is near. You have done a lot, likely more than you should. The alabaster-skinned warrior is well enough to roam the desert and find his way back to his people through his own means. You brought him supplies, food and a stillsuit. Whatever befalls him will be up to fate and his own wits. You don’t plan on returning after tonight.

“You’re looking better,” you note, checking his wound for the last time. You leave the bandage for good measure even if it’s clear he doesn’t need it anymore, the wound having begun to fade since you removed his stitches yesterday.

He pins you with that unsettling stare once more.

“That song you sang…” he rumbles.

“A song?” Your head tilts as you comb through your memories. It comes back to you. You sometimes hum it to yourself. It calms you down. You didn’t even realize you’d done it in his presence. “Ah, that song.” You shrug, a small smile sneaking onto your lips. “It’s just a lullaby my grandmother used to sing to me before she passed, to teach children about the Shai-Hulud.”

He looks at you in what you believe to be confusion at the name, though you can only assume.

“Your people call them… sandworms,” you explain. “They are sacred and should be revered.”

Silence hangs between you and the Harkonnen. His deep raspy voice shatters it after some time.

“Songs…I had a blade in my hands from the moment I could walk.”

“I’m sorry,” you blurt out, unsure what else to say. He doesn’t seem sad, more reflective, but it seems you should say something. “Do you…Do you ever think of what your life would be like if you weren’t Harkonnen?” When he looks at you blankly, a nervous laugh peals from your lips. “I’m sorry. That was a silly question.”

Your crysknife materializes in his hands from behind his back. Your blood runs cold as you pat your thigh. You don’t remember ever leaving it around him.

“My older brother...He took me from our parents when I was a baby,” he utters, sounding detached, almost as if he were recounting someone else’s life. “My uncle raised me. I don’t remember my father. And my mother…” His lightless gaze slams into yours as he smiles, exposing his glistening, black teeth. “I killed that whimpering, meddling bitch.”

Your breath snags in your throat. Perhaps…you let yourself get too comfortable around the Harkonnen. The crude reminder of who he is, who they all are, yanks you back to reality.

You bolt to your feet, coaxing a tremulous smile onto your face.

“It’s getting late. I should return home before the sandstorms grow too strong.”

As you prepare to leave, the muffled pitter-patter of footsteps above you freezes you in your tracks. Your eyes bulge. Dread sinks within you as you realize someone’s right above you.

Before a single sound can make its way past your lips, the Harkonnen’s large hand envelops your mouth. He pulls you flush against his bare chest as he whispers into your ear, “Quiet.”

His muscles go taut against you. You catch him twirling the blade with smooth precision, clearly ready to fight if need be. You hold your breath, bridling your stuttering heartbeats.

Two men in full Harkonnen livery leap inside the cave. Panic rushes through you.

However, instead of a fight breaking out, relief fills the soldier’s faces as they see him. 

“Na-baron. We received your beacon.”

Na-Baron…The air is knocked from your lungs. The title isn’t that common amidst the known universe. In fact, it’s quite unique and you only ever heard of one man from one specific house using it. Na-baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen, the heir-designate to Baron Vladmir Harkonnen. 

He is a monster, a ruthless killer…and you nursed him back to health. Allowed him to get well enough to hurt, maim and kill as he pleases. The cave seems to twirl off its axis around you.

Perhaps he was right that night. You might be an insane idiot.

You feel the subtle lift of his lips against your scalp.

“Right. Did I forget to mention my name?” he taunts, as if he could read every thought zooming across your head. Giving you no time to even try to run or fight him off, the na-Baron slams your head against a nearby wall.

Pain explodes inside your skull. Your vision dims as you grow too weak to stand, your knees buckling beneath you. You fall into his arms and he holds you against him. He strokes the side of your face, a fire burning in his onyx orbs. Consciousness slips from you, his last words reverberating inside your ears.

“You and I are going home to Giedi Prime, my desert rose.”

You awake startled, jarred by the softness of the sheets and the largeness of the bed around you. This is nothing like the cot you used to sleep on in the desert. You leap from the bed, clutching your face and hugging your frame, stunned to note you are without your stillsuit and face mask.

Instead, you are wearing a sheer white tunic that hugs your curves in a way that leaves very little to the imagination. The outfit is unlike you, impractical in every way. Your pulse escalates.

You rush to rise and nearly crash down on the bed again. 

Your forehead creases.

You wobble around, struck by the difference in gravitational pull, humidity and atmospheric pressure. Every breath you take exerts you, bearing heavily on your lungs.

Your head spins as you glance at the unfamiliar room. Every single detail of it is cold, somber, opulent.

Horror twists your insides.

You’re not on Arrakis anymore.

“You’re in the Harkonnen keep, darling.” 

The gravelly voice erupting at your back has you whirl around. A half-exposed Feyd-Rautha fills your sight, his carved alabaster muscles and bald head shimmering silver in the low light.

You swallow hard, fighting to keep yourself breathing normally in the brand new air.

“The Harkonnen Keep on…”

“Giedi Prime, yes,” Feyd-Rautha finishes.

While you understood it on your own, having it uttered out loud sends you in a renewed state of alarm. You are away from your family, your friends, your home. You are alone on a foreign planet. A hostile, enemy planet.

“In secluded apartments away from my other concubines,” he further informs. A shadow of mirth lurks in his gaze. “They’re quite the jealous kind. They may even try to take a bite out of you if they learn of your existence…” He leers at your shivering frame, making no effort to hide his lust, the evidence already bulging in his pants. “Though I don’t think I could entirely blame them.”

He inches closer to you. “How does the weight of a real planet feel?” he asks, a twisted excitement swaying in his dark orbs. “Is it crushing your bones? Is every cell in your body screaming in pain, my desert rose?” He grips your chin, studying you oddly, almost as if he wishes he could absorb every bit of your agony and discomfort.

You glare up at him, your insides white hot with rage.

“H-How could you do this? I saved you.”

He frames your chin, squeezing tightly. “Oh darling, you should have killed me…” A squeak spills from your throat as he drags his tongue across the side of your quivering cheek. His lips brush over your earshell as he mumbles under his breath. “Because there’s nowhere in the galaxy you will ever be able to hide from me now.”

“I belong in Arrakis with my people. You have to let me go,” you plead. 

You search his impassive face, scouring for an errant ounce of humanity. The emptiness you find has tears rushing to your eyes. You mourn the tragic loss of moisture, willing yourself to stop crying. Ever since you were young, you were taught never to waste your precious water...especially on something as trivial, as painfully unnecessary as tears.

...But you can't quell your weeping.

He tilts his head.

“You belong with me…No, to me, desert rose. In my arms, screaming as I ruin that pretty cunt of yours with my cock.”

Fear floods your entire being. Your eyes scan the room. A faint spark of hope blooms inside you as you spot a long, sharp knife on a stone table nearby.

Pushing past the queasiness you experience every time you move on the unfamiliar planet, you race across the room and grab the knife.

You point it at him. Instead of cowering, Feyd-Rautha opens his arms, smirking.

“Do it,” he urges, making no effort to protect himself from the sharp blade in your hand, inviting you to strike him as his tongue darts across his lips.

His uncanny anticipation coats the air. Confusion fills you.

“I will,” you say, trying to appear braver than you feel. Still, the blade quakes in your hand.

“Please. I beg of you,” he purrs, gliding towards you. As he watches you hesitate, he cruelly reminds you, “You will never go home, never see your beloved planet again. In fact,...” He hums, his eyes lighting up as if a wonderful idea just occurred to him. “I think I might slaughter some of your family and friends just for sport.”

A wave of wrath surges through you. Bereft a thought behind it, your hand slashes across his chest, a small cut forming there. Droplets of blood so dark it appears black drip down onto his alabaster flesh. 

“More…” he rasps, pleasure leaking from his gravelly voice.

The sight of the bleeding wound rattles you, causing you to retreat.

But he doesn’t let you remove the blade, his fingers cinching around your wrist and keeping its sharp tip over his bulging pec. You sob as he forces you to drag the blade across his chest, a blissful expression spreading across his features. A long dark cut oozing dark red blood decorates his body now, going all the way to his defined abs.

Terror and confusion tangle within you. You stagger backwards, the dagger slipping from your lingers and hitting the floor.

“You’re sick.”

“I didn’t realize there was such a fire inside you, desert rose. If I don’t have you now, I think I’ll go mad.” His hoarse, lewd tone scrapes against your eardrums, causing your insides to twist in dread. He cracks his neck, black tongue sweeping over his lips as he approaches you. “No, I definitely will.”

It’s the only warning you get before he tosses you on the bed and rips the clothes off your frame. Tears brimming your lashes, you squeal in protest, scratching and punching every part of him within reach. You slap him hard and he cackles, baring his black smile in sheer delight. 

“Come on, desert rose, I’m sure you can hit even harder,” he sneers. 

To make him eat his words, you hit him again. Harder than before. His laugh gets louder as you watch a faint bruise form on his cheek.

Pinning your wrists besides your head, he bends over your chest. His tongue swirls around your nipples, his cool tongue causing you to hiss and shake. Sharp teeth graze your breast and the breath hitches in your throat. You squirm on the sheets, completely at the mercy of Feyd-Rautha as he licks, bites and kisses every part of your flesh. As if he wanted you covered in marks of his ownership, wanted to ensure there wouldn’t be a doubt in anyone’s mind that you were his if they stole a glance at you. You loathe the way your traitorous body writhes and pants, a disgusting dampness gathering at the apex of your thighs. 

The tears in your eyes swell. Your body is divorcing your frazzled mind little by little, yielding to his rough, wanton touch. 

He grabs your thighs and dips between your legs, diving straight for your center. He licks a long stripe up and down your folds and you tremble. As his devilish tongue swirls around your clit, your eyes flutter, blinding pleasure building in your core. Hot waves of delight engulf you as he gathers your arousal with his tongue and drags it around your tender spot. The slow, unrelenting patterns he traces with his mouth have you fight the urge to buck your hips into his jaw. Your juices drench the entire bottom of his mouth, but he doesn’t seem to mind, greedily devouring your cunt as if he’ll never get to do it again.

As you quiver against him, your orgasm flowing through you, he chuckles against your wet cunt.

“Your body can’t even deny how much it craves me, desert rose.”

Shame pulses through you with his words.

He crawls over you, cutting his pants loose with one aggressive shove downwards. Only a glimpse of his thick alabaster cock, glazed with his need at the tip appears in your vision before he shoves the entirety of himself in you. The pain is so intense, flames alongside your walls, that it robs the words from your throat. He sinks inside you until his tight balls chafe your cunt, his hand wrapping around your throat while the other keeps your wrists above your head.

You whimper beneath him, defenseless against his sharp, piercing thrusts. Pleasure builds within you, his cock overwhelming you with shameful sensations each time it grazes your sensitive places, making you see stars. Gargled sounds pour from your throat as his girth splits you apart.

He grunts as your walls constrict around him, slamming into you even harder.

“You’re so delightfully tight around me, darling.” He bends over you to whisper, “I bet I’ll turn you into my perfect little cock-hungry whore in no time. Have you on your back and knees for me whenever I wish it.”

The Harkonnen heir’s pace fastens, his cock hitting spots that have you question your sanity. So delicious that you can’t help but let pathetic little moans escape from your throat.

He buries himself inside you even deeper, the pain and pleasure blending in crescendo. Your eyes roll back as you near your peak. Meanwhile, Feyd Rautha’s hunting his own release, his quick thrusts growing sharp and slow, his bald head grazing your bare chest.

Pleasure rolls over in a tidal wave, your back curling alongside the sheets. His own release comes after yours, thick ropes of his seeds painting your sore, sensitive walls. 

As you crash in a boneless heap on the sheets, he wraps his hand around your jaw and steals your lips for a sloppy, heated kiss. 

You cry out in pain as he sinks his teeth into your neck, placing a visible puncture wound that won’t disappear for a while.

Still nestled in your warmth, he scatters more bites along your shoulder.

“Any man would be insane to let you go after tasting such a sweet cunt, desert rose.”

You know he wants you to see, doesn’t want you to miss a single second of the spectacle. It was a split second moment, one that could have easily resulted in his death. 

But at the very last second, Feyd-Rautha prevailed and dodged Paul Atreides’ attack. He then proceeded to stab him in the heart in front of his heartbroken mother and your cousin. 

You don’t want to believe it. It must be an awful dream, one you will soon wake up from. One that lasted entirely too long. While seeing Paul’s body sink to the floor, your heart shattering into a million tiny pieces…Watching Chani glare at you with pure hatred in her eyes from across the room is almost worse. You want to run to her, embrace her, tell her you never meant to leave, tell her you aren’t a traitor to your people despite what clothes you may wear now, what marks may brand your skin. 

But it’s all for naught. Paul is dead and with him the hopes for your planet, for your people have died as well.

And you are left with nothing, no one. A stranger in a strange world. 

It’s what he reminds you as he has you caged beneath him that night, burying himself inside you again and again with abandon. 

“You’re mine, desert rose. And nothing, no one can take you away from me. Not my uncle. Not Paul Atreides. Not the Emperor.” He chuckles darkly, whispering against your ear. “...And not even you, darling.”

He is right. You are his. And with no one to challenge the rule of the now Baron Feyd-Rautha, ruler of House Harkonnen, it is as he said…There is nowhere in the galaxy you can hide where he will not find you.

[morganitering]

Because I'm the Weakest

Pairing: yandere!Satosugu x fem!reader

Warnings: Rape/non-con, Dead dove, darkfic, dissociation, trauma, rape fantasy, rape aftermath, vomiting (not during sex), unhealthy relationships, non-consensual drug usage, drugged sex, canon typical violence, sexism, implied/referenced alcohol usage/abuse

Contains: F/M/M, spitroasting, oral sex, penis in vagina sex, blow jobs, face-sitting, come play, overstimulation, voyeurism, slight size kink, humiliation/degradation, vaginal fingering, mentioned Nanami.

Word count: ~6,5k

Summary: Growing up as a female sorcerer has not been easy, especially when you are overshadowed by two prodigies. You used to form a tight-knit friend group, but now in adulthood everyone battled their own demons whether it be a god complex or feelings of inferiority. Gojo Satoru revives a group chat that was almost long forgotten, inviting you and his boyfriend for a long weekend, just like the old days. Before the regrettable night, you wouldn't have ever thought that you'd need to raise a fist against a friend.

A/N: Hey everyone, another fic but this time featuring our two favorite dudes with insanity turned to the max. This fic is once again full of warnings and proceed with caution and read the tags! Remember to take care of yourself. Otherwise enjoy and feel free to like and comment <3

read on ao3 PART II

“Booring,” Satoru complained audibly as he looked through the streaming services’ different movies and series. The little icons changed from bombshell babes to twisted faces with titles written in blood. He was sprawled over the corner of a ridiculously huge couch and he was wiggling his foot as a nervous tick of his. He wasn’t wearing his usual garb, instead he had opted for something more relaxed and comfortable.

“If you’re so bored you should help us out in the kitchen,” Suguru sighed, his black hair draping over his shoulders, still slightly wet from the shower he had taken earlier. When you had pointed out that he was leaving droplets of water everywhere where he went, Suguru had just smiled at you and told you that it’s better for hair to air dry.

He held a knife in his right hand and the other one held onto a cucumber to keep it in place. His fingers were slender but by no means unmanly. Suguru wasn’t too fixated on the vegetable in front of him, chopping away with confidence only experience would provide.

“And where would the fun be in that since I got you two as my private chefs?” Satoru pouted as he shoveled candy in his face.

“You’re going to lose your appetite, if you eat candy now,” you chimed in, poking the halloumi that kept on sizzling on the pan. The water evaporated in a mist that warmed your cheeks in the cool apartment. It wasn’t actually cold in the open plan kitchen, but you had spent long enough in front of the appliances to break a sweat.

“I’d eat it anyway,” the white haired man whined as he got up from the couch finally settling on a tv series that started playing mindlessly in the background. “So, what am I supposed to do?” He asked after grabbing a piece of pomegranate from a small see through bowl. He walked behind you both like a shark, eyeing the ingredients and you, uncomfortably close.

“Set the table and learn to bitch less,” you joked.

“You wound me,” Satoru said, feigning sadness, but did as he was told.

The three of you were residing in an apartment that Satoru had bought himself from one of the skyscrapers surrounding Tokyo. After Jujutsu High it had gotten increasingly hard for the three of you to meet as adult responsibilities weighed heavily on both of their shoulders, – especially Satoru’s, but you saw the similar pain carried in Suguru just as well.

You were not weak, but you could not compare to the two prodigies. On the days when you felt down, the pain of third wheeling constantly ate you up, sometimes so much so that you rather left the two men talking together in the group chat. It furthered the wedge between you and them, until the messages became sparse and you almost could pretend not to know them.

It had been six months since the last time you met, but one day Satoru broke the silence and a notification popped up from your shared chat. It had taken you by a surprise, you were vaguely aware that even him and Suguru had issues with fitting each other in their lives, due to individual missions and what not. So the fact that Satoru decided to deliberately send a message to you as well, got you anxiously excited. He reached out to you. You. A high school friend that barely kept in touch with him.

“Guys! I refuse to work this weekend so come to my place. Let’s have a get together like the good old times ❤️ ❤️?? A little sleepover if you will!”

“Lol what about the higher ups?” Suguru had asked, typing back way too fast.

“Actually never mind I don’t want to be made into an accomplice in your crimes,” Suguru had continued.

“Am I invited too?” You had asked, hands shaking slightly as you stared at the bright screen, already tucked into bed. It was late, but Satoru was a known night owl.

“Damn, what have I done to earn this type of reputation 😭” Satoru complained, reacting to both your and Suguru’s message. You could hear his voice as if he was there in the same room as you.

“Of course you are invited, silly. I wouldn’t send this here if you weren’t.”

So now you were there, living an almost ridiculously domestic life with the couple that you had been hanging out with ever since you were sixteen. They had not changed too much. They were still both tall and slender but years had rid them of the rest of the baby fat as they started to resemble more men than boys, vigorous fighting showing in their bodies in an ever gained muscle mass. You supposed you were the same too. Battle hardened. That’s the word you were looking for.

You were just about to sit down but you saw long limbs reaching out to the white chair pulling it backwards. You looked at Satoru with a raised eyebrow. He was acting weird.

“What? I’m a host. I’m being hospitable,” he said, voice melodic as he pressed his hand on your shoulder to pet your arm reassuringly a few times. Suguru laughed quietly as he sat down next to Satoru.

You ate and drank, buzzing with energy. It was like no time had passed and you wondered why did you ever stop talking to these two. After a drink or two you were brave enough to ask for some hot gossip. Like every high school friend, you went through old drama, like how ugly Nanami’s haircut used to be.

“Has Nanami found love yet?” You had asked. He seemed like the type to find a decent relationship first out of all of you, but to everyone’s surprise it was these two men.

“Do you still have a crush on him? I heard that he’s quite a looker nowadays” Suguru bounced a question back at you with a smile tugging on his lips. It was that one expression that looked a tad too kind.

“No, I don’t. I was just curious,” you tried to move on from the subject. You did not really discuss your relationship history with these two, at least not anymore.

“Why?” Suguru asked, leaning on the hand he had placed on the table. The atmosphere felt off, it was as if he was challenging you. You looked at Satoru who seemed to be equally as interested in your answer.

You scratched your neck awkwardly.

“I- I think he’s too soft,” you said blushing at the implication of your words. You had turned your gaze to your almost empty bowl, your mind going to improper places. As you were buried in your embarrassment, Satoru and Suguru shared a silent look with each other.

At some point during the evening you had moved to the white haired man’s bedroom. He wanted to show you the view from the window since he lived on the 30th floor. It was magnificent. The busy streets were bustling even during the night and you stared at the small lights that blinked in different colors. Your eyes followed the cars that swerved left and right as some people were gathered up in front of bars for a smoke break. You barely could make them out from the height you were in.

Satoru’s bedroom was basically the size of someone’s apartment. The bed was huge and sleek, unlike the common area. This room was a lot moodier and darker and it actually showed that he lived here, small bits and bobs decorating shelves and few paintings were hung up on the wall that you reckoned were Suguru’s taste.

Your drinks had changed from light cocktails to expensive red wine that you were almost scared to consume, but when Satoru saw hesitation in you he made a point to assure you that it’s all on him and after that almost instantaneously Suguru asked you something, leaving you no room to overthink.

The uneasiness still followed you. It was a gut feeling that you were really bad at listening to. You did not believe you were in danger – at least you’d like to think that as a jujutsu sorcerer you’d be trained to recognize threats by now. Luckily the red wine relaxed you, lulling you to the feeling of safety.

The volume of music was loud as the three of you listened to some throwback songs that still made you shamelessly want to dance. You were celebrating embarrassingly in Satoru’s room laughing, swaying your bodies along with the beat. It was as if you were in a club, except this was way more intimate. The world spinned around you, the warm lights mixed with the glimpses of the night sky and the longer outlines of your friends. You felt light, time slowing down and going overspeed at the same time as if you were alone on the highway. Your friends’ smiles stretched on their faces, eyes twinkling manically as both of the men appeared to you in double. Eventually when you tired each other out the whole group collapsed on the bed still humming happily. Satoru’s bed was plush and big enough to have room for the three of you.

You noted the way the silk felt like a warm hug underneath you, the ceiling moving like a slithering snake’s skin on savannah.

Satoru was lying on his back on the left side of you, his white hair now more tousled than before whereas Suguru was on the right leaving you in the middle of the two men.

“I think we should play a question game,” Satoru’s voice was bordering on a whisper. The music had stopped.

You stayed silent. “Satoru, I’m not feeling too good,” you managed to say. The bed was a ship and you were a passenger of the sea.

“I didn’t know you’re that lightweight,” Satoru’s hand reached out to your head to pet you, the gesture meant to lower your guards, but in your ever increasing discomfort, his touch only managed to make your skin tingle with aversion.

“Just humor us for a bit, it could be like the good old days, right?” Suguru argued, flashing a dead smile at you.

“Okay, whatever. Ask me something,” you rolled your eyes, too tired to fight them in your weird mental and physical stage.

“Hmm,” Satoru turned to his side to face you, his blue gaze piercing yours as you were still laying on your back. You had no idea when he had removed his sunglasses. You heard Suguru moving next to you as well. “What do you mean by Nanami being too soft?” The way Satoru laid down the question was impish.

The tone of the conversation had taken a full one-eighty and you opened your mouth to answer with only lies on the tip of your tongue, but then you decided against that. Those two had a very good bullshit radar.

“Do you want to hear what I think?” Satoru grinned playfully as he licked his plump lips once.

“I think Nanami would bore you out of your mind, missionary on Mondays without the lights on? Ugh, I wouldn’t want that for my worst enemy,” he said, laughter hollow full of malice. You couldn’t believe your own ears.

“I think you want it rough and behind that tough girl act, there’s an insatiable woman with some wild fantasies,” he blabbered his obscene thoughts. “Tell me, have you ever had sex with two men?” Gojo’s voice was loud and it was as if he was talking to you from a speaker that had been locked in another room. He was too close, too far away and simultaneously too here.

“What the-” you got cut off.

“Don’t curse. It’s unseemly from a woman,” Geto said calmly.

“Answer me,” Gojo demanded. During high school you would have described Gojo’s eyes as a beautiful spring day. You would have said that he reminded you of blue skies with perfectly white fluffy clouds, but now his eyes had turned to something much paler and darker. They reminded you of deep untouched snow drifts turned to blue in the moonlight as they sparkled ominously, waiting for the first little animal that dared to break the pristine condition.

“What did you do to me?” Your voice was not your own, it was weak, the accusation of your words turning dull as the red wine you had drank earlier sanded the edges away.

“Nothing permanent,” Geto said.

His admittance striked terror in you. Realization hit you, you were not safe here and you felt the familiar warmth flowing in you like a second nature. You manipulated the cursed energy, channeled it and let it flow steadily in your body guiding the power to your hands, but something in it felt unstable, it felt like a chord that was almost broken just barely connecting.

“Did you know that some drugs really affect the ability to use cursed energy? Not that it would matter in your case,” Geto explained, his voice overflowing around you, sticking to your skin like honey.

“Fuck you!” You yelled letting out a gust of wind to both sides, throwing the two men away from you. They landed nimbly to the floor, like cats, as you yourself hopped up from the bed, your vision blurred, walls moving back and forth, small figurines on the shelves changing color others dancing in front of your eye lids. Your head ached, pain banging against your skull, gnawing at the nerve endings that sent panic infused messages across your body, screaming: Stop moving!

“Oh so you want to spar? Go on then, show me what you have,” Geto purred.

It was a pathetic attempt in your current state. Your feet took you towards the door that Geto had come to protect. Hands and feet clashed together in close combat as you drew your cursed energy that was flickering unevenly in your body. Every time you got too close to escaping either Geto or Gojo kicked you further away.

The white haired bastard wasn’t even using his infinity which only added salt to your wounds. He deliberately chose to prance around you, letting you at times touch him a wild smile on his face. There was no cursed energy, no flashy techniques, just you and two overpowered men.

“Do you remember what they said in school when facing someone stronger than you?” Gojo asked, dodging your fist.

“Don’t be a hero,” Geto grabbed your arm and twisted it painfully behind you. “Contact someone better equipped to handle it,” he said and shoved you forwards with a force so great that you staggered towards Gojo’s table with the MacBook wobbling with force earning a “Hey, that’s my computer!” protest from the man himself.

The lights went out with a sound of shattering glass, leaving the three of you enveloped in the darkness, only city lights illuminating the room. Disorientated by the sudden change in environment you froze, breathing heavily as the two men practically surrounded you. Gojo appeared in front of you not a hair out of place.

“And with that, you’re dead. You really should not get distracted during training,” the white haired man shared his advice talking to you with the same tone he used on his pupils. “Truce?” He offered his hand.

You looked up. There was something sinister about the way they hovered over you. Geto’s beautiful prince-like features had turned harsh and angular, the shadows sharpening his face even more. You swallowed a bunch of bile, the effects of forcing yourself to move taking place.

“The power disparity is too big,” Geto said. He almost pitied you. You were a smart girl, you’d figure the best move soon.

You grabbed the hand bitterly. Gojo helped you up and Geto wrapped his arm around your waist when you were about to fall again.

“Careful,” he mumbled, his hand trailing underneath your shirt. His touch felt cold against your burning skin that was damp from sweat. “We wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself,” he taunted.

“Take her shirt off. I’ve waited long enough,” Gojo said impatiently, tapping his foot on the floor.

“Always so demanding,” Geto chuckled as he worked your shirt up, unclasping your bra unceremoniously, your breasts now free for the two men to ogle.

“Perfect tits,” Gojo said as he pawed at you and played with your nipples. You were completely overwhelmed and out of energy. Luckily, you did not have to stand on your own as Geto helped you to stay up his hands unzipping your jeans.

“Why me?” You squeaked your head drooping in defeat as you looked at Geto’s hand that vanished underneath your panties, your trousers still on you. Your question went unanswered.

“Satoru I think you might have been right about your theory,” You felt Geto’s smile on your neck as he referenced the earlier conversation regarding Nanami.

“Really? Is she wet?” Gojo asked curiously.

“Soaking,” Geto said as he explored your soft folds with ease. “Did fighting us make you feel better about what’s going to happen? At least you can tell your friends that you did not break easy,” Geto mumbled onto your skin pressing kisses to your neck, his hand still working on you going up and down tantalizing on your slit.

Gojo dropped to his knees pulling down the rest of your clothes. A whimper left your mouth as you shook your head powerlessly.

“Lift her leg up,” Gojo instructed. Geto slid his hand behind your right knee, lifting it up till you were wobbling on one foot as you leaned on him for support. The white haired man had his lips slightly apart as he looked in awe at the sight unfolding in front of him. His mouth was watering as Geto maneuvered his hand back to your folds, spreading them in front of Gojo’s face so that his boyfriend could take a long hard look at everything you were offering.

You saw the gears turning in Gojo’s head as his expression turned to a mischievous one. “I want her to sit on my face,” he licked his lips and made his way to the bed, throwing the shirt on the floor.

“Can you move?” Geto asked as he let go of your leg, holding onto your trembling body. He tipped your head towards him, his face looking almost worried. It reminded you of the old times, but this was not the old Suguru. This was someone new. Twisted.

He helped you to the bed, where Gojo had been waiting, completely naked, his chest heaving in anticipation. Your eyes scanned him from head to toe, stopping at his cock that had already started to curve upwards. It already looked big, bigger than anything you had ever taken.

“Like what you see baby? Cause me too,” Gojo said jokingly. “Well, come here then or do you want to fuck us dry? Because I’m fine with that,” he hurried you, the threat looming over you.

You climbed on top of him, saddling his face. Gojo’s hands immediately grabbed at your ass, pulling you towards his mouth. You could imagine the pink tip of his tongue trying out where you were the most sensitive. He was too impatient to tease you, quickly finding the bundle of nerves that was begging for his attention. He lapped at it as obscenely wet noises filled the room. Gojo sucked on your clit and you moaned loudly, throwing your head back, a sheen layer of sweat on you.

You felt him hum into your cunt as you felt the weight shift behind you on the mattress, Geto’s hand moving on Satoru’s length, pumping it roughly.

“You see, Satoru here is a bit of a munch. He is loud during the day, but put a cock in his mouth and it works wonders at silencing him. Apparently he likes the taste of pussy too,” Geto said with a devious smile on his lips. Gojo groaned animalistically into your wet heat as the black haired man felt his own hardness straining against his boxers. It took everything in his power to not to take off his clothes and fuck you till you were cock drunk and babbling incoherently, but he had too much fun playing with you.

“How does it feel like having the strongest sorcerer lapping you up like a regular man?” Geto’s voice was just a hush in your ear. “Men and women around the globe are going to be jealous when they hear that Gojo Satoru wanted to stick his dick in you,” Geto taunted you both as his hand focused on rotating around Satoru’s tip, spreading out the drops of precome around his cock. Satoru bucked his hips up involuntarily.

You came. Hard. You thrashed around Gojo’s head as the man between your legs held onto you stubbornly, licking and sucking through your orgasm. You felt something warm trickling straight to his face as the pressure in the lower half of your body exploded. Your voice was high pitched and desperate as you rode his face till you were sore, your already weak legs giving out.

Gojo pushed you off of him, gasping for air, pupils blown out in arousal. His face glistened in your juices and his saliva.

“You know what, for a man who’s shaming me for being talkative, you sure speak a lot yourself Suguru,” he pointed out. Suguru laughed, honest to god laughed, his eyes squinting contently as Satoru pulled him into a kiss.

There was something incredibly erotic watching the two men, knowing that Geto would taste the remnants of you as their lips smacked together messily. Their bodies tangled together, black hair flowing around white as Gojo buried his hand in Geto’s luscious strands. Gojo pulled his boyfriend’s face up gently exposing the bobbing Adam's apple that he kissed reverently. It was now Geto’s turn to saddle Gojo.

“I think you need to take your clothes off. Give her a little show,” Satoru said, biting into the skin on Suguru’s clavicle as his hands fumbled with the black haired man’s belt that opened with a clink.

Geto pulled his black t-shirt over his head, his taut muscles flexing. It felt like forever when Gojo caressed the man on top of him, his face in a constant grin. He took down the boxers inch by inch until Geto’s cock sprang out after being suppressed inside his clothes for too long.

“Get on fours,” Gojo ordered as you clumsily did what he told you to. He moved behind you whereas Geto took place in front of you.

“Arch your back.”

You stretched yourself, lowering your torso and propping your butt up almost as if you were offering yourself on a silver platter. Gojo’s hand came down to your ass with force making your body jerk when he dug his nails on the soft skin.

“Wow, you must fuck a lot of dudes judging by how low you can go. If I knew you were a whore, I would have bent you over earlier,” he laughed, his finger prodding on your entrance.

Geto pulled you from your hair. It wasn’t the nice kind of pain that came when one would grab them near the scalp; instead it stung like hell, when Geto yanked your head up, putting you on the perfect level of his cock.

Gojo inserted one finger simultaneously inside you and almost immediately added another. You whined as his fingers scissored you open, your lips almost touching the head of Geto.

“You know, I get to lie with this amazing man every day. Show him the same respect as I do,” Gojo said. Had you not been caught up in their fucked up power play, their love for each other would have truly warmed your heart.

Geto’s thumb stroked your cheek as if to apologize for what was about to happen. He let his hand trail down to your bottom lip, swiping across it gently.

“Open.”

Satoru pushed his hand almost knuckles deep into you, a guttural moan making its escape from your lips as he used his hand to finger fuck you. Geto used your opening mouth to his advantage to stuff his cock in you. He was huge, your jaw already hurting. His tangy taste spreaded in your mouth as he softly rocked back and forth, not wanting to choke you just yet.

You hollowed out your cheeks and focused on the tip of his cock as you used one of your hands to touch what you could not fit. Geto’s eyes were half lidded as he guided your head to a rhythm that he liked as you squirmed underneath Gojo’s touch.

Gojo removed his hand from you leaving you empty, you almost missed the sensation of him, but soon felt the man behind you poking your folds with something much bigger than his fingers. You mewled in panic when he entered you, your eyes widening in shock. God he was huge.

“Focus. Eyes up here,” Geto said, patting your cheek with an open palm. The way you looked up at him made Suguru feel close to high, your pupils widened to the size of a plate, eyes glistening in tears that you held back, still holding onto a sliver of pride. Brave girl, he thought to himself.

Gojo fucked you sloppily, squelching, slapping and your gurgling filling the room as both the men used your body to chase their own highs. You felt like you were drowning and when one withdrew the other one rammed into you without a second thought. It was hard to keep your attention on Geto when his boyfriend did everything in his power to make your task at hand challenging, when his long cock grazed upon that one spot inside you from time to time.

“I’m going to finish in your mouth,” Geto was out of breath, his grip tightened around your skull. Gojo groaned behind you with his fingers digging into your hips. You were sure that you’d have handprints tattooed on your skin by the end of this night.

Geto’s movement got erratic, his cock hitting the back of your throat making you gag around him painfully. The black haired man relished in the wet warmth your mouth provided him. He was panting as pleasure coursed through him, your despaired moans only driving him further. Hot stripes of his come coated your mouth. You wanted to spit it out, or swallow it, anything to get rid of it as your face soured in disgust.

“Keep it in your mouth,” he advised as he pulled out of you. You almost wanted to spit it on his face as an act of defiance. Geto smiled at the confrontational look on your face as if he knew what you were thinking. “Good girl,” he purred when you had decided not to go against him.

Gojo flipped you quickly around to lie on your back, your legs floating in the air awkwardly as he entered back into you swiftly. He pulled you in a feverish kiss, his soft lips slightly swollen. His tongue prodded inside your mouth, Suguru’s come spreading into his mouth as you explored each other. It felt disgusting, playing with someone’s fluids like this, but somehow it made your cunt clench around your white haired high school friend.

There was something deeply primal in the way Gojo drove into you, his head almost resting on yours as he fucked you deep and hard. You were vaguely aware of Geto’s eyes following the act in front of him, admiring the way Satoru’s muscles moved with every move, drinking up the disheveled look on you.

Satoru’s hips came to halt as he plastered his seed on your walls, making sure that he wasn’t too deep, keeping his thrusts shallow enough so he could see him leaking out of your used cunt.

“Fuck,” he breathed out, spent, the after glow warming him. “You didn’t come right?” He asked you, feeling slightly tired.

“No, but it doesn’t matter,” you rasped out your throat feeling hoarse after the abuse it had taken. Frankly you wanted to sleep as well.

“Suguru, can you help her out? I want to watch,” Gojo said as he fluffed the pillow underneath him to get into a comfortable position as if he was about to open the television and watch his favorite show.

“If you hold onto her other leg,” he said as he propped your left leg around his waist and Gojo took hold of your right one. You were helpless and unable to protect yourself when you tried to squirm away from the two devious men.

Geto’s nimble fingers gathered up Satoru’s come that was trickling down between your cheeks. He pushed it back inside you, moving his fingers slowly without a hurry in the world. It reminded you of the calm before a storm.

“You’re going to give us one more right?” Geto’s voice was reassured when he added another finger into you, thumb trailing to your sensitive clit. He knew just what to do, to get you fast back to the edge that you were teetering on earlier, already feeling overstimulated from the rough treatment you had gotten. His fingers made a come-hither movement hitting precisely your g-spot.

Gojo held onto you whispering sweet nothings to your ear, his thumb caressing your thigh. He was gentle, his touch light, eyes half lidded as he enjoyed the small whimpers coming from your mouth. He spoke to you, told you how much he had wanted you from the beginning. He spoke of how he saw that you wanted him – them. Gojo let you know how well you were doing, taking what they dished out to you, how you were brave and oh so good. He attempted to bury you in his twisted love, six feet underground, anxiety and arousal covering Geto’s fingers.

It was too overwhelming. Gojo next to you, Geto between your legs, your world still spinning around you, overstimulating touch and a coil about to snap. You wailed hollowly as you came apart on Suguru’s fingers one last time.

***

It was deep in the night, around two AM to be precise. You had shot your eyes open as the wave of nausea hit you. The two men had fallen asleep cuddling each other, limbs tangled on each other. You got up as quickly as you could, your head ache punishing you from your choices, stomach churning dangerously.

With a pitter patter from your naked feet, you carried yourself to the extravagant bathroom, barely having time to put the lights on as your nausea took over.

You doubled over the toilet seat, emptying your stomach of your earlier dinner and whatever else your friends had slipped in your drink. You held onto your hair desperately trying not to make a mess. A warm hand landed on your fist bunching up the rest of your hair gently.

“It’s okay. I’m here,” Suguru said affectionately, stroking your head. “Let it all out. You’re going to feel better soon.”

The acidic taste filled your mouth once again as if it was reacting to Suguru’s company. Your body forced you to throw up stomach fluids after having nothing else in it.

The way he took care of you brought up memories of the times you had taken one too many drinks, after your partner of that time had broken up with you. You remembered the way he had held you crying, snot and tears covering his shirt as you broke down.

The sound of water pouring into a glass echoed on the walls and you heard the rattle of an ice drawer disturbing the silence.

“You should drink this,” Satoru showed up leaning on the door frame, offering the glass to you. You hesitated.

“It’s just water.” He said and took a sip as if it would prove you anything. “See?”

You grabbed it from his hand, when you decided that you didn’t care anymore, downing the entire glass in almost one swing. The cold scraped your tender throat punishingly. You should have drank more slowly.

Waking up after the night had turned to day, the windows no longer covered by the blinds. You did not remember a lot of the act, except vomiting, but that came afterwards. The city was already moving fast, a new day offering new opportunities and new exciting journeys.

You felt physically a lot better, still weird, but you no longer felt like collapsing to the ground nor did you see things twice. It was almost like you had a hangover. You looked around Gojo’s room rolling on the bed that was empty feeling relieved of having space.

There were still signs of yesterday's fighting, but random shards had been taken care of and the lightbulb changed into a working one. You had your own pajamas on you, not having the slightest idea when and how you got into your clothes. Feeling nervous you got out of the bedroom walking to the toilet to empty your bladder. As you wiped, you felt around your crotch, searching for the remainder of different body fluids. You had cleaned yourself up. Or someone had.

You washed your hands, scrubbing them together with fervor, pumping out a heap of soap on your palm.

You repeated it once.

Twice.

Until your skin was scrubbed dry.

You looked at yourself in the mirror just to see familiar features, but not anyone you could recognize. You opened the overnight bag that you had left on the side of the sink to brush your teeth and spit out the foaming toothpaste. A smell of dough frying on the pan wafted to your nose as you heard commotion from the kitchen.

You took steps to the living room to find Suguru in front of the stove flipping pancakes as Satoru was hunched over a pile of strawberries nibbling on them happily. Upbeat rock played in the background as the two men joked around and chatted. You stared at them, something seething in you.

“Good morning! We’re making brunch,” Suguru exclaimed as he flipped a pancake over “Do you want coffee or tea?”

Nails bit into your skin as you clenched your fists together hard, your knuckles turning to white as anger turned on like a switch. You wanted to rage, go absolutely berserker, throw things at them, scream how dare you over and over. Some part of you also wanted to forget the night, pretend that it’s a nightmare, sit down with them to eat some fucking brunch.

“What if I tell someone,” it wasn’t really a question that you wanted them to answer.

“And what would you achieve with that?” Gojo retorted, popping a ridiculously big strawberry in his mouth, leaving the green stem outside as he bit down, the trash floating to the table.

Suguru placed the now ready pancake onto the white plate. He grabbed the black ladle to pour more mixture on the warm pan, before he started speaking calm but collected. It was this matter of fact tone that he used as if he was disappointed in your stupidity since he was always speaking the truth. The audacity of men or something like that.

“You know first hand how some clans look down on women, not believing that women should be sorcerers in the first place. So how do you think these powerful people are going to react to you saying that two of the strongest sorcerers assaulted you?” He mused, the conversation reminding you of ethics class where people discussed your human rights as a starter dish, completely disregarding that they were talking about real lives.

You knew how those types of people would react. They would see it only as normal, a woman’s place as a breeding machine, your sorcerer blood and womb more precious than your soul. They would argue that you were lucky or maybe that you had asked for it. Besides, it wasn’t exactly atypical of people in your line of work going insane, the trail of dead comrades keeping one up for countless nights. And who better to take anger out on than the people who are perceived as less.

“Even if they did believe you, it wouldn’t change our life at all. They need our skills and well, his money,” Suguru continued as Satoru grabbed three coffee cups and placed them on the kitchen island. As if, you were staying. “It would change yours though.”

That’s when realization hit you. They were the type of evil that were completely aware of their sins. They knew exactly what was right and wrong, but they simply did not care, the world as their oyster.

“You’re insane,” a tear rolled down your eye, your body trembling like a leaf.

“Not denying that one,” Satoru quipped, not taking anything serious like usual.

“If you want to, you can leave. You are free to run your mouth however you want, block our numbers, whatever makes you sleep better. Or you can eat some pancakes as friends and have powerful allies for the rest of your life,” Geto said. “I’ll ask again, coffee or tea?”

You bit your lip as the conflicted emotions flashed through your face. You despised that you viewed them still as your friends as much as your enemies. It was weird to love someone who had hurt you in one of the most violating ways possible.

“Coffee,” you mumbled as you sat down on the bar stool hanging your hands on your sides as Suguru poured the dark liquid on the blue cup.

“We got you Plan B too,” Satoru said, throwing the cardboard box into your hands. “You should take it. I’m not ready to be a father,” he added.

You fumbled the package open, popping out the small pill on your hand. You didn’t know how they knew that you weren’t on birth control nor did you really care. You placed the tablet on your tongue taking generous gulps of water as the couple continued on cooking.

Music played as the sun shone brighter, lighting up the whole kitchen, furniture basking up in the natural glow. You ate in peace, mainly Satoru and Suguru talking together but every once in a while you added something in the conversation. You fell quickly back to the old habits, maybe at times chuckling at their stupid jokes.

You pushed away the night. You tucked it in a corner of your mind that you did not dare to look at for many weeks to come. You were just three old high school buddies catching up, nothing more. The flashbacks you saw were not yours and the long weekend continued on as a happy sleep over.

[l1tw1ck]

I want to fck pregnant Miguel so bad, maybe a short aftermath of the last fic would be fine

3 Months

bottom!ftm Miguel x top!masc reader

AFAB Language Used | [Part One]

i don't normally write characters that are already pregnant nor do i take requests when they're closed but god i had to write this 😭 i was planning on adding it to the original fic but i forgot....💀 anyways, enjoy!

CW: Past Non-Con, Pregnant Miguel, Table Sex, Cunnilingus, Squirting, Lactation, Dumbification, Overstimulation, Creampie

You hug Miguel from behind as he’s grabbing a plate from the table, rubbing your boner against his ass to let him know your intentions. “Dinner was great, honey, but I think I want dessert too.” You pull his panties down and sink down to your knees. You bury your face in his cunt, indulging in your sweet and wet dessert. Miguel lets out a slutty moan and grips the edges of the table. He moans your name, voice coming out as breathy and desperate. “Fuck..” He lowers his head as your tongue enters his hole and your finger circles his clit. His whines are music to your ears and encouragement to keep going.

You don't stop until his squirts, giving you a delicious refreshment.

You sit Miguel on the table, planning to clean it up afterwards, and sink your cock into his pussy. He can't describe how good it feels when you enter him, it's almost euphoric. Almost as good as when you come inside him. He loves you so much now. He’s started to lactate and he often feels sore, it's your job to take care of that. You bring your mouth to his nipple, gently sucking on it while your hand massages his other breast. You slowly push in and out of him as you do so. Miguel leans his head back, letting out soft and sexy moans.

He whimpers your name, about to come even faster than normal. His nipples are so much more sensitive than before. You pull away and lick his nipple, getting the excess milk before moving to his other breast. Miguel’s breathing becomes labored as he gets close to an orgasm, letting out a loud whine as he comes.

Miguel moves back onto the table as per your instructions. You grab his legs and raise them in the air, using them to thrust into him. He grins, moaning even louder than before. The table shakes violently as you fuck him. Your aggressiveness is already making him lose his mind. He can't focus on anything except the pleasure he feels. He’s practically mindless. Ever since your first time together, it’s been getting progressively easier to make him get into this state. Make him come a few times and he’s gone. It made it easy to manipulate him. You lean over and kiss him. Thanks to muscle memory, he kisses you back. He feels as if a wave of electricity just ran through his body, from his chest and down to his cunt, causing him to orgasm again. Like always, you don't stop. The both of you love overstimulating him. He likes how fuzzy his brain gets and how he completely loses control, how you always have to help him after sex because he can't do anything on his own. He likes giving up his body to you.

Your thrusts eventually come to a stop as you finally fill Miguel up with your cum. “‘M gonna have twins..” He giggles. You smile at how dumb he is now. He’s so different from the Miguel you kidnapped. He’s better.

[cupcakeslushie]

I know we don't know the exact extent of Kendra's abuse but i think you've implied that when she shows Donnie physical affection it isn't always innocent, like gently holding his face, that it goes a bit deeper and darker than that. And if April is the one Donnie latches onto in the aftermath would there ever be a moment where Donnie misinterprets a touch from April and she finds out that Kendra's abuse had an extra layer of fucked up? How would she respond to finding that out? Or would none of them ever find out the severity of Kendra's abuse

@finnbin yes! I see Donnie starts with having nose bleeds (those are always fun!), slurred speech, blurry vision, and once it gets to the worst, seizures. These are caused by a mix of his long time spent staring at the screen Kendra forced over his eyes, and pushing his ninpo past it limits. He keeps trying to draw power when that link to his family has been severed. And he even keeps it up once his family rescues him. The first time Donnie has a seizure is with his family and it scares the absolute shit out of them.

⚠️ Nothing super explicit, but I do discuss Kendra committing some pretty heavy ableism and icky non-con touching below. Click at your own risk to see!

Kendra does force Donnie to work and talk through his meltdowns, and even pushes him into being physical with her when he doesn’t want to. He’s conflicted, because the praise makes him happy, even the short touches are fine, but then the kissing starts—Kendra saying she’s just curious. Donnie doesn’t really care for it, but Kendra likes it enough to keep pushing that line. Donnie keeps his discomfort to himself.

When Donnie does get rescued, and April tells him he doesn’t have to keep making her things. Donnie’s heart stops. Because if not stuff, then does April want the same thing Kendra wanted? Should he just wait it out? But one day, there’s a moment where April can’t hide her exhaustion and frustration with everything. She starts to tear up, and Donnie just reacts and moves. April freezes, and asks Donnie why he would do something like that? Donnie is practically shaking apart. April starts crying even harder, and the brothers run in. Donnie tries to quickly stammer out an explanation. It clicks for the two eldest, Leo tells Mikey to get out butt it’s too late. The whole family knows.

[yandere-sins]

Never-ending Pleasure

HC that Malleus likes ice cream because it soothes the magic-induced burns in his mouth. Also HC that his darling’s kiss has the same effect (;

Fandom: Twisted Wonderland Characters: Yandere!Malleus Draconia x GN!Reader Warnings: Yandere, Implied Sexual Content, Non-/Dub-Con Behavior (Kissing), Kidnapping, Possessiveness, Delusional Behavior/Thoughts

»»———————— ♡ ————————««

It was strange. Truly curious.

Nobody looked at Malleus and would have guessed the heir to Briar Valley's throne had a sweet tooth. That his freezer was always stocked with an assortment of ice cream for him to consume, nobody daring to touch what belonged to him. They had it wrong, though, as it wasn't the taste luring him towards the delicacy, the sugary sweet delightfulness of it, but its ability to soothe the heat collecting in his mouth when he used magic. His genes were remarkable, but the fire glands he had inherited were rather impractical for his the form he chose to present himself. Not that it was too uncomfortable to bear on occasion, but a nice spoon of ice cream usually managed to soothe the aftermath of any bad tastes or feelings left behind.

And yet, you, with your head tipped back, tears in your eyes, emitting sounds of displeasure and the loss of air, had the exact same effect on him as the ice did. Perhaps even more so, his whole body tingling from the tip of his tongue to his toes. Malleus couldn't help it, the comforting heat emitted between your mouths so very different from his beloved ice cream, yet almost better. It was exhilarating and new, and Malleus wouldn't be lying if he said he had never experienced a more thrilling moment, even when you shifted beside him, your fingers tearing at his clothes desperately. Thus, Malleus did the only thing he could think of in that situation:

Deepen the kiss.

Given, you were no vanilla-strawberry swirl or a deep, rich chocolate flavor, but there were benefits to your taste, too. In fact, you tickled more senses in him than he ever thought could harmonize at the same time. Be it the sensation of his tongue against yours making his eyelids flutter, pants tenting uncomfortably; the sound of your lips smacking against his running a shudder down his spine; or the way your body was so perfectly aligned with Malleus' while the wall in your back kept you trapped, leaving a feeling of a million fireflies behind in his belly.

Had he known about the benefits of a kiss before, he would have done it so much sooner. For months, he kept you waiting for that sweet, sweet confirmation of his feelings, assuring you only in words but never in actions while he kept you locked in the highest tower, trying to figure out how to best approach you. You had become desperate, downright crazy, locked up there all alone, crying and screaming hysterically despite his frequent visits to keep you company.

Malleus tried to honor your wishes. If you told him to stay away, he did. If you said he needed to leave, he sighed but obliged. If you didn't like the food, he sent Sebek or Silver to get you something different, and when you asked for better accommodations, he had them redecorate your room. Letting you go and leave forever weren't requests he could fulfill. But Malleus had paintings of your hometown made so you could hang them up and admire them when you got homesick.

But he ran out of options quickly, unfortunately. And when all of his expenses didn't help, he reconsidered how to keep you happy. It wasn't proper, not protocol at all. He should not have considered desires of the flesh to woo you, but it couldn't be helped when nothing seemed to please you anymore—nothing to shut up your panicked rambles just long enough for him to think of more and better ways.

With his tongue capturing yours, sucking and releasing it over the many sore spots he had acquired from his magic that day, Malleus couldn't help but think how beneficial this was—for both of you.

Sure, tears kept streaming down your pretty face, diluting your gaze. You were shivering, holding on to Malleus desperately. Still, at least your vocal cords had a moment of pause, your body recovering from the wailing and sobbing, not even having to stand on its own as he supported you. Really, what more could you even want in your life when enjoying this kiss was all that was needed to satisfy even Malleus?

But then again, as he pressed forward, wanting to sink deeper into the delicacy of your kiss, he frowned as you struggled, still so very displeased with him.

Perhaps it was not enough.

Perhaps you needed more convincing how wonderful your life was with him. How well you were cared for and loved. More actions that showed you how greatly he admired and desired you. A clearer sign that he loved you very much and would always be by your side.

And perhaps Malleus needed another taste of you. Another chance to learn how else he could soothe the magic burns in his mouth while being elated by the fact his whole body was reacting to yours as if you two were meant for each other. Meant to be together, to kiss, to love, to devour.

So when he pulled away, both of you breathing heavily, and you turned your head away, baring your neck, Malleus' mind began to wander, his mouth feeling terribly dry now that his tongue was so very lonesome without yours, missing the stimulation you gave him. He wondered what you tasted like elsewhere and how good it would feel once his tongue laid down on that bare neck of yours, driving down your shoulders, chest, and lapping at your stomach and legs until it would find the sweetest of spots, the forbidden aphrodisiac to his love-crazed mind.

You might have flinched when he caressed the side of your neck, but with thoughts so beautifully, who could have stopped him?

He just needed one more taste of you.

One lick.

And then only one more for good measure.

Never-ending pleasure just for him.

[scratchandplaster]

Stack The Deck - PART 7

CW: reluctant Whumper (POV), aftermath of torture, non-con drugging, toxic relationship, injury, emeto mention

PART 6 ⇽ [Masterlist] ⇾ PART 8

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Delivered at 10:47pm. Delivered, not seen because she's too much of a coward to face the consequences of her actions.

Morris had given every last thing, what else did she want to see? For just a simple sign of life, he would do it, whatever it was. Everything she could ever want, with a little extra hidden inside. To ensure she would stay with him, permanently.

Her ex-lover woke up a while ago, staring and breathing were the only acts Morris could notice while waiting around the bathroom door.

He looked so much better cleaned up, blood washed away from his soft features. His hair gained mass again, a bit wet from the quick cat lick he gave him. The tape around his legs was cut off too, it offered no use like this and limited the basic comfort Morris tried to provide. 

He had brought the mattress to this room, covered in an oversized bathing towel to hide any previous blemishes. He cleaned him up the best he could, limited by the sparse selection of his toiletry bag. 

A washrag and antiseptic took care of the most egregious areas, seemingly having no effect to calm Elliot down again. 

He would also have to take care of that. 

Gingerly, he pulled out a bottle of pills, small and flat, rolling it across the tile with a noisy clatter. To bury the hatchet, way too late and worth nothing.

"Should have given you this beforehand," he whispered his non-apology, "but I thought of the alcohol, you know, you don't just mix meds like that..."

He was sure the most of it had exited his system by now. Elliot didn't even seem to notice the gift he was made, focused on Morris instead, like he would stuff them down his throat any second. Morris knew that wouldn't be worth the effort, not in such a way. 

"If you have to throw up again, try to aim there," he pointed at the lidless toilet right next to where he was sitting, "would be a pain to clean that all again."

"I threw up?" The first words from Elliot sounded so raspy, you could grind rocks with them. Too weak to ask further, he just stared, lost in the space between them.

"Yeah, I squeezed pretty hard. The whole thing looked like a used grapefruit afterward, but I think I did a decent job fixing-"

Horrifyingly slow, Elliot seemed to remember what happened just before his involuntary nap, sluggishly raising his hand up.

Morris did do a decent job, the gauze was neatly wrapped around all fingers, leaving the thumb separate. A white mitten, it looked like. To support the lost curve that came naturally to the palm, he scrunched up a few paper towels to stuff them under the mauled flesh. 

Elliot didn't seem to feel a thing, marking the whole action as a success. The damage was clearly visible, yellow-red stains soaked through the cotton already, carrying the sickly sweet aroma of infection.

"Let me see, we need to change that soon," Morris spoke softly, approaching further. He wouldn't bet on it, but Elliot could do some damage, especially when frightened.

"Go away, don't touch me!" Elliot writhed on the soft terry cloth, unbound but still immobile with exhaustion, he shifted a few inches away to meet the back wall. Realization came over him in waves: "She didn't call, did she?"

"Let me help you." Nice and careful.

"I'll bite, I swear to god!" he sobbed, clearly not believe a single word himself. If that's all he has left, I really did a number on him.

"Ell, come on-"

"I mean it. Go away!"

Too tired to take a new fight, he gave in.

"We could watch the game, the Jays are playing tonight-"

Elliot didn't listen to a single word. Inspecting his thickly wrapped hand while cradling it in the other, he looked like the last breath had left him a long time ago.

"So much..." The horror in his faced settled down, tears now flowing freely down.

"Yeah, it had to be. She likes to overdo it, you know? But look, you're not a lefty, in a few months it will be back to normal. A screw here and there, you won't even notice the difference."

Compelled to continue, even through Elliot's found-again silence, he tried to explain the answer to his endless questioning:

"She never stopped talking about you. Stockbroker, crypto startups and so on." Morris gaze shifted through the window, now far away from guilt and ichor.

"You can laugh at me for that, no hard feelings. But I believed her."

Elliot had no intent to follow that invite, his face heavy with lead-like weight throughout the muscles; he had screamed himself numb.

"What do you want now?" he followed the quiet up with, ready to turn down any new game Morris had up his sleeve. He lost a long time ago.

"You need some energy back, so I brought you something."

Casually held in his grasp, he presented Elliot with a lukewarm can of Red Bull. Automatically, Elliot took it without asking further, holding it to his lips.

Morris averted his view from the misery below, acting disinterested as Elliot finally took a few sips of the sugary liquid. They stayed together, minutes passed till he was sure Elliot wouldn't struggle against his aid.

"I need to rest, and so do you."

Weakly shaking his head no, Elliot continued to sit still on the makeshift cod with the empty can in hand. A little extra in that, too.

He felt no joy in scaring him with violence, never had. A part of Morris despised him for being the old flame, the presentable version of what he so desperately tried to be. He would do everything for her, kill for her, but was not even worth a courtesy call, a fate Elliot had to share with him now.

One and the same, after all.

Not impressed by any of Elliot's threats, he let himself slide down onto the cod, keeping his hands by himself. He was a patient man, after all. Minutes ago, he had already seen the signs of sleep tugging at his frail body, senses slowly going south. He wanted so keep him sweet and distracted, a sudden outburst of panic would only worsen the situation, so he tried to keep the act up.

"You never told me what kind of band you got going."

Elliot pressed his left hand tightly against his stomach and as far away as humanly possible from the source of his injury.

"Orchestra, not band. A whole ensemble: choir, strings, winds. We rehearsed yesterday, for the Christmas Oratorio. Bach 'n all that, y'know."

"So you're a singer, huh?"

Slipping away again, so gentle this time, the drug guided him to let go of the tension in his muscles. Not even daring to notice, Elliot's head tipped to the side, safe and secure against Morris' shoulder. Only a slight shake of his head still held him in the exchange of amenities.

"P-pianist."

--------

He didn't think of Amber when unwrapping the old bandages, and neither as he took a good look at the dubious white spots that started to form in his absence. The bloodless tissue made the two last digits look almost ghostly. Quickly changing the gauze, he guided the limb back to the secure place on Elliot's chest, now rising and falling at a soothing pace. 

He tried to do it all tidy and cleanly, the swelling seemed to give the palm back some of its previous structure.

There was a slight twinge of, well, guilt. He had no reason to feel responsible for this, warning her thoroughly, so no harm was to be blamed on him. He tried his best.

Wet heat rose from the throbbing wound, still soaking through the material towards the outside, as if all of Elliot's warmth flowed out of it. It was visible by now how much damage he really endured; the stress made his eyes puffy and sore, the weak shiver still haunted his fingertips.

Morris wished he would have done it to anyone else, to anyone who was just half as bad at cards. Someone who he had imagined meeting in that apartment; a vain, insolent snob. He would never cross that person, it seemed, at least not in this house.

Morris thought of hearing him play just once. It had to be enchanting, surely.

The thick brown leather of his overcoat enclosed Elliot's body, now laying on his side, to keep any remaining warmth inside him. Not even daring to waste the time he had bought himself, Morris too sat down on the mattress, leaning against the bare walls. They would wake together, never alone, never abandoned.

As he let himself join in the emptiness that sleep granted them, he dreamed of melodies and matches, of the peaceful company he had thrown away so carelessly.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Thanks for reading 🤍 [Febuwhump 2023 Masterlist]

@febuwhump

[sourpeachsayshi]

(minors / ageless / blank blogs dni)

tags: choso has a stepcest kink (very light); alludes to choso being high; porn watching; nipple play; fingering; squirting; non con (they are being watched); I finally have the courage to post this draft slkdjf don't shame me

regarding yuji's best friend reader and his big brother choso and this idea I wrote a while back: Hmp catching your best friend’s older brother (choso) watching porn, so he invites you into his room to join him - and while you watch he just sucks on your tits and slowly fingers you until you squirt all over is sheets.

you're face is so hot watching this video, the girl is moaning while she's being eaten out. you're not sure if you should focus on her responses or on choso sucking your nipples like his life depends on it.

"is-is this what turns you on?" you stammer, the blaring fact that the actors are playing step siblings sending a shiver all over your body.

your breath hitches, choso's own staggering as he looks up at you with slightly blood shot eyes. "it's kinda hot, right? that they are doing something that they shouldn't..."

he says this as he slides two fingers underneath your underwear, his other hand pinching your erect nipple. he pushes two fingers between your wet folds, hearing you whine as he carefully starts fucking you.

your mouth is dry, your head falling to the pillow where the side of your cheek is illuminated by blue light blaring from his monitor. you're trying not to read so much into his comment about forbidden hook ups, and you're unsure if your heart is racing because of the thrill or if you're overwhelmed.

he sucks on your tit, releasing it with a pop, his fingers working magic between your legs. "The plot is whatever, a cliche I guess," he admits, "but she's hot, and the way he fucks her..." he groans, snagging you tender nipple between his teeth, "it's kinda how I think about fucking you..."

you're gushing down to his knuckles, your body shuddering at the prospect of getting fucked by this sinful man. you don't say anything else then, but you keep your attention focused on the screen. when it gets to the scene where he does fuck her, you only imagine how it would feel with choso instead.

the actors are splayed out on the living room sofa, the girl getting fucked so hard and rough in the middle of the living room. you can't help but wonder if choso is desperate to claim you this heatedly in the sanctuary of his own home for a reason, and if that reason has anything to do with wanting him to make his mark on his brother's best friend.

his mouth is circled over your left breast, sucking and licking over the bud as his fingers move faster. he's grinding into the mattress, his erection making a mess of his jeans, and you know that's he's getting far to into it when his own moans start getting louder and louder.

you know you're going to cum hard when he starts pressing up against the sweet spot that makes everything in you seize up, and he has to use his other hand to clasp over your mouth so that you don't scream as you squirt all over his t-shirt.

you're so dizzy in the aftermath, but as your eyes fall to choso's bedroom door you realize that it's not completely closed. through the sliver of the gap you spot the color of fiery red, and you instantly shoot up which startles the man before you.

"what's wrong?" choso asks, using this as opportunity to turn off the screen of his monitor.

you shake your head, "I-I thought I saw something..."

choso circles his arms around your waist, and drops his weight on top of you as he lays you both back on the mattress.

"yuji isn't even here, baby," he reminds you.

which is true, except sukuna decided to pay his younger brothers a visit and was startled to find out that you're a lot closer to this family than he even thought.

[gremlingottoosilly]

Please, Stand by [dark!Ghost x fem!Reader x dark!Soap]

You woke up in your captor's apartment. Turns out, getting out of the grasp of two trained special forces soldiers isn't exactly an easy task.

TW and tags: non-con to dub-con, size difference, power imbalance, fingering, hurt/comfort(but it comes from the ones who hurt you), yandere, dark!141, possessive 141, obsessive 141, kidnapping. AO3

Simon never slept this well on leave. 

Always something happening – Soap breathing too loudly in their fucking bed, nightmares getting too wild even with as many meds as he could possibly take, neighbors behaving as if he wouldn’t be able to bloody shoot ‘em all and get away with it – he never enjoyed sitting at this place without a purpose, as much as he enjoyed not having to buy the whole space for himself. Johnny was really making things stir up a little around here – but it wasn’t enough. Never. 

Ghost found himself dumbfounded this exact morning, though – he gave up the space in the bedroom for you and Soap, knowing that the Scotsman has a much smoother way with women, and they don’t want to scare you too much. Poor thing, you’re already terrified of them – this won’t do, they aren’t monsters. A bit forceful, yes, but men in this position don’t exactly have much time for courting – and it's not like you’d agree to relationships with four of them at the exact same time if you really had a choice. Just means they have to take the choice away from you. Hell, he even thought of preparing your breakfast in bed – something that he never thought of doing. You were so good for him, for Soap, so nice and obedient, he almost forgot it was all because of the alcohol – not because you really wanted them so badly. Ghost isn’t a stranger to hookups and dates at random pubs where he could afford to not take his mask off – but it’s the first time he liked a girl so much. The first time he really wanted to just take you and… *** You woke up somewhere around noon. The aftermath of your hangover still lingered in the fog in your head as you were desperately trying to cling to consciousness. You wanted to throw up. You wanted to curl down and cry. You wanted to…

Ah, you’re finally awake. Good for you. 

The first thing that you feel is nausea. You already threw up at night, it’s evident by the stale taste of bile in your mouth – but you still feel like turning your stomach upside down and shaking it a little. 

The second thing you feel is a heavy hand on your waist. It’s muscly, hairy, covered in scars and burn marks – you don’t think that a man with hands like this would be at your taste for one-night stands. You don’t think you ever had a hookup session with a random person you didn’t even know, but whoever is clinging to your body like you’re a teddy bear has another opinion about acting all lovey-dovey with their playthings for the night. You try to worm your way out of the grasp, but the guy only tightens it. 

— Don’t move, lassie. I knew how ye feel. 

You seriously doubt that. 

— Where am I? 

Your voice is raspy, in desperate need of water. You don’t want to beg them for this, so you just bite your lips, hoping your voice doesn’t sound too pathetic. You’d kill for a bottle of water right now. 

— In yer home. 

— This is not…

— It will be, hen. Dinnae havta worry ‘bout that okay?

Guy – Soap, you remember, heard when the other guy, the second guy, was talking to him. Like you weren’t even fucking there like you didn’t have a say in the situation. You feel a trail of sloppy kisses landing on your neck, and your shoulders – damp skin is sweaty under the touches. You feel sluggish like you usually do on a hungover – like you usually do after a really nice girl's night out. 

Soreness between your legs makes you choke on your tears. You don’t want to cry, not in the presence of your captors. Not when all the memories you have is how soft they tried to be. How much did your alcohol-dazed mind like it. The thrill of them knowing all of your special buttons without you ever having to ask – you hate them, you want to hate them, you need to hate them. But you’re thirsty, hungry, your head hurts, you feel like shit, and they still didn’t beat you yet. 

The survival instinct comes to life when you hear the door opening. 

You struggle out of his grasp – thankfully, the guy is sleepy, he didn’t put up much of a fight. You manage to get out and fall on the fluffy carpet, surprisingly nice for a place where two rough looking bachelors are living. You don’t have enough time to think about the texture of the carpet, as you scramble on your feet and run. 

Fuck this, fuck everything, fuck trying to be soft and obedient – they don’t care about showing their faces and names to you, that you can just run to the police. Probably means they are going to kill you right after the cuddling session – and you’d rather be traumatised than dead. You think. Probably. Maybe. 

In your struggle, you didn’t even think of thinking that if the door is opening, it means that someone will be standing on the other side – or the apartment is extremely haunted. 

It wasn’t extremely haunted. Your cheek is flattened against a broad chest. A pair of hands that smell of tobacco and leather are forcing you into this perverse version of a hug, leaving you without any chance of getting out. All of your attempts at screaming are left with nothing but weird bubbly sounds as you struggle to breathe. You don’t want to panic, but, hell, you feel like you’re going to fucking die. 

Price had just seen the most beautiful woman of his life. 

With tears running down her cheeks, messy makeup, and even messier hair. She is wearing Soap’s T-shirt, which isn’t ideal, but no one is perfect, and even the prettiest girl out there has her flaws. She is crying and panicking, and she looks so bloody fantastic with her arse showing every time she tries to wiggle her way out of his grasp, and he doesn’t want to behave too brutally, but he wants to see the marks from his fingers grasping her wrists. He knew he saw you yesterday, fucked you yesterday. Held your hair as you were throwing up and forcing yourself to stop fucking vomiting all over the place – but you’re even prettier now, in the dim morning sun. Crying and struggling in his grasp, he can’t wait to share you with others – he knows Kyle would love fucking that tight arse of yours. Price would get a kick out of making you his stupid girl. 

And they, well, they will always have a special treatment reserved just for you. Gosh, you’re beautiful. Ghost knows why they had to take you. 

— Quiet, luv. Quiet. Calm down. — Let me…fuck you, let me go! You push at his chest, and the only thing he feels is the way his dick starts throbbing in his pants again. Gods, you’re fucking beautiful – much, much prettier than any girl he fucked through his life. So feisty once you’re sober, he knows how much fun you’re having in store for them once you’ve regained at least part of your strengths. — I will fuck you. Later. 

— No! — Now, if you insist on yelling so much. He gently forces you closer, his hand slipping to cup your arse. You feel divine in his arms – he doesn’t know how Soap manages to steady himself and not fuck you right in the car. He did make you suck his dick, but it obviously wasn’t enough – and won’t be, with how much you struggle now when the alcohol finally wears off. Ghost gives your ass a little squeeze, then – a few slaps, just to make sure you’re nice and obedient for them. You obviously haven’t worn panties under Johnny’s shirt, easy access doing easy accessing, and so when he finally managed to slip his fingers in your cunt, he was pleased to find out it was soaked. — You’re wet, luv. Can’t get more ready than this. 

You whimper in his chest, still terrified. He supposed you should be – he is wearing the mask, not wanting to scare you with his scars and intense gaze. Skull balaclava isn’t doing a good job at making you calmer, but…well, he can try to think about something. Soap had already shown you his face, and it’s not like you’re going anywhere. They would catch you faster than you could run to the local authorities – as much as you would love to think otherwise. Prey aren’t known for their wits, after all. — Pl…please, just let me go. Please? I won’t…

— Won’t tell anyone? 

— Yes! Please, I…I need to work. I have a shift in the… — You went to a pub before your shift? 

You sob, your little excuses clearly aren’t working. Ghost brushes his rough fingers among your folds, the stimulation on your pussy making you shiver. He knows you’re sore, his dick isn’t exactly tiny – you need some more orgasms to calm down, maybe get you nice and relaxed for them. If he knows his sergeant, he already got a word out to the rest of the team – and although Ghost really, really wants to just take you with them and share you as their little duo, Gaz and Captain deserve to have something nice too. Deserve to have someone nice. 

Ghost pulls his fingers out as soon as your whimpers turn into moans. He wants you nice and wet, but he needs you to beg for it. To recognize that the only way you’ll get anything around here is through obedience and behaving like a cute kitten, they decided to scoop from the streets. Not exactly a subtle look, but he can spell it out for you later. Make their shared dumb girl just a bit less dim. Maybe teach you a few manners – you don’t start a conversation with your captors from curses, for example. 

— Please. I…I have a family. 

Uh-oh. 

Tough shit, Ghost thinks. 

It would have worked in Private Riley – before he got into captivity himself before he got almost killed. Before he has lost everything he ever loved – and before he found a family in people who have the wondrous ability to enable his worst and best traits at the same fucking time. If you were a bit less weak, a bit more resilient if you didn’t cry as much and reminded him of himself in the past – who knows, you could have pulled at his heartstrings. 

But Lieutenant Ryley wants a girl to warm up his bed, and the beds of his comrades – and he knows you would do just perfect. So, he scoops you in his arms, like a disobedient kitten, and puts you in a place where, as he knows, all misery dies and the place where he is crawling every time he falls a bit down. 

He pushes you back to Soap’s bed. 

You cry even more when two beefy hands force you into a tight hug – Johnny is still half-asleep, and his growly sleepy voice makes your hair stand at ends. You hate them, you despise them, you feel like you’re going to fucking die rather than fall asleep in their embrace again, but Soap kisses your neck and whispers something in your ear – something accented, deep, no doubt dirty. Something that makes you whimper again and again, something that…god, you feel like a slut.

You rub your thighs together, trying to chase the heat away, but you only feel warmer. It never gets easier, you suppose – never gets just palatable enough. 

— Simon scared ye, bonnie? 

Johnny smiles when you only whimper, your desire to feel the warmth of another person making you fall right into the guy. It’s not something you’re proud of – Jesus Fucking Christ, you just snuggle with your kidnapper – but you need something to just feel…normal. Like hugs after a really good hookup. Like you just found someone to date and to kiss and to be in a proper relationship with. 

You whimper instead of answering, and you hear the Scot chuckling again, his grip on you getting tighter. He is like a koala – and you feel pretty…fine in his grasp. You’re too scared to get feisty because you already tried, and it just returns you to point A. The starting dot. The first page of your miserable journey opens with a tight hug and the smell of breakfast cooking. Burning. Cursing through a thick English accent, you could hear something in the kitchen getting absolutely blasted – in a negative sense. 

— I’m not scared of you. 

He laughs again. You can smell something burning, and you hope that the second guy – the scary guy – will set the entire apartment on fire and kill everyone inside, including you. 

— Ye shouldn’t be. We will take care of ye. 

— I will run as soon as I can. 

— Lt could break your legs. I could break your legs. 

You sob again, but Soap doesn’t rush to comfort you. You need to get this through your skull – you’re not resisting them without consequences. You’re not running away without them catching and punishing you. You will not as much as step out of this bed without their permission – even if they’d have to haul you to the bathroom themselves while you’re kicking and screaming. You deserve to get knocked down a peg about the subject of you actually having rights – and you deserve to be calmed down later, once they think you have been punished enough. — I just want to go home. 

— Cannae do that, lassie. 

— Are you going to kill me? 

— Not if yer obedient. 

You hear the sound of something hitting a glass bowl. Then – gulps of liquid are poured into the same bowl. The burning have stopped, making you think that whatever the skull guy tried to cook, is getting thrown out of the balcony now – you almost smile trying to picture the burly man in a cute apron, desperately begging for the eggs to stop burning and turning into a crisp. You could cook for yourself, but…well, they probably won’t let you use the knife. 

— Are you going to rape me again? 

You are pulled into a much closer hug. Johnny’s dick poking at your ass, making you shiver in his hold – making you try to get out as fast as possible and failing miserably. You have suggested that the guy was a part of something illegal – maybe a mafia reinforcer, the dweller of those weird candy shops that were opened throughout the country, but you caught a glimpse of some camouflage in the dresser when Simon was taking off his clothes…they are in the military. Maybe, it’s even worse than you initially thought – no way anyone will believe you over them. No way you will win a fight against them. 

— We weren’t raping ye, bonnie, Just…taking what ye really needed. 

You came harder under them than you ever did under any of your boyfriends or from your fingers. You feel pathetic because his eyes are innocent and cute, and you don’t want to make them hurt you again. You don’t answer. 

— We’ll take care of ye. Just keep yer arse in place and don’t resist, aye? 

You can’t do anything but nod. Don’t want to do anything but nodding. 

He smiles at your neck again. Kisses you again. Ray of shivers run down your tummy. 

Ghost showed up in the bedroom again, holding a bowl of honey cereal. You are hungry – you need something to soak up the alcohol, and you’d want something greasy and terrible, or maybe a soup and tea later – but the cereals are better than whatever was slowly getting burned on the stove. 

They could drug you – then again, it feels like you’d prefer being unconscious anyway. 

— Price will be there in an hour. Got his call. 

The Scot being you, curses under his breath, his hands finally letting you go. You took the bowl and started to eat, as quickly as you could. 

A hand slips over your waist, steadying you. 

— We’ll make her presentable, aye? 

You don’t want to be presentable, but something in their voices are telling that you don’t have a choice. 

[evanbuckleyweek]

Evan Buckley Week 2024

The prompts for Evan Buckley Week 2024 are here!

This event celebrating our very own Evan "Buck" Buckley from 9-1-1 will be held from the 12th until the 18th of August 2024.

You don't need to sign up to participate, just make sure that when you post your work here on Tumblr, you use the tag #buckweek2024. Since tags can get a bit finicky here on Tumblr, you can choose to let us know you posted by also tagging @evanbuckleyweek in your post. Fics posted to ao3 can be added to the Evan Buckley Week 2024 collection.

We've provided prompts for edits as well as fanfiction and art. However, you don't have to stick to one specific list. We encourage you to choose from whichever one sparks joy, as long as you make sure to post on the corresponding day the prompt belongs to!

Edits

For edits, we have some prompts for you where you can pick your Buck-related favorites to make an edit with. All kinds of edits are welcome! Show us your gifs, image-edits and collages!

Day 1: Buck + favorite rescue

Day 2: Buck + favorite line

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Day 6: Buck + love language

Day 7: favorite headcanon or free choice

Fic & art

For fics and art we're giving you a few prompts to choose from every day. You can choose only one of these, or choose to combine two or all three of them! Every day consists of a line, a theme and a feeling.

Every part of the prompts is completely open to your interpretation. Surprise us with your creativity! We look forward to your fics and all variations of art and other creative works!

Day 1: “Why did you do that?” | reckless behavior | fear

Day 2: “This is my home” | catharsis | hope

Day 3: “Stop lying” | walking away | anger

Day 4: "I really don't like thunderstorms" | late night conversations | anxiety

Day 5: “I wonder what it would have been like if I had known sooner” | bi pride | acceptance

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[shroomdreams]

Awoo!

Male Wolf Hybrid x Fem Puppy Hybrid Reader

NSFW

CW: Non-con, reader in heat, p in v, creampie, implied marathon sex, breeding kink, impregnation, reader is depicted with breasts and vagina A/N: Something short for y’all to chew on. Also i know i said i'm not into non-con but I've been reading a lot of josei smut manga and it's bled into this fic sdgjhdslkgjh 1.5k words

Imagine being a puppy hybrid dealing with your heat.

As one of the dog hybrids tasked with guarding the farm, you’re trained to take down threats and keep your friends safe. Your pack consists of you, your little brother, and your grandpa! Grandpa’s been getting on in years, and your little brother is still a bit too rowdy to be a proper guard dog, so most of security duty goes to you.

However, if there was one thing you hated about being a puppy hybrid, it’s the heats you go through.

Curling up on your bed, you growl and tear into your chew toy as your hips desperately hump the pillow, staining the fabrics with your juices. It never gets any easier dealing with heats, especially the aftermath where you bleed all over everything. To make matters worse, the owners of the farm have been thinking of getting a dog hybrid for you to mate with! Absolute nonsense. You don’t need any mates, not at all!

Still, you’re grateful that your owners decided to give you the week off to deal with your heats. Much as you despise the process, it was a chance for you to somewhat relax while your little brother takes over your job for the mean time. However, the toys your owners bought weren’t anywhere near enough to stamp down the fire in your loins, but it was better than nothing. Unbeknownst to you or anyone in the farm, things were about to change.

In the early hours of the morning, a lone man stalks the near the woods, his wolf ears flicking around for any sound of prey. Then, a tantalizing scent wafts to his nose. He’s off, quickly tracking down the delicious scent. His feet carry him to a farm, where everyone was still slumbering. The scent comes from a little hut just a few ways off, fenced off from the rest. Though as the wolf made his way to the hut, he’s stopped by a smaller figure, who fiercely glares at him.

“Heck off, stranger! Yer trespassin’ on private property!”

Unimpressed, he raises a brow as he crosses his arms. “And what are you gonna do about it, runt? You’re way too scrawny to be a threat.”

The dog hybrid shakes his head, clearly agitated by his presence. “Don’t matter, I can take ya!” He growled. As the wolf takes a stance, the two are interrupted when the hut’s window flaps open. The scent practically rolls out as you snarl at the two of them.

“WILL YOU TWO PIPE DOWN?! AH’M TRYIN’ TO GET SOME SLEEP HERE!”

“Eek! Sorry sis!”

The wolf hybrid takes a moment to assess the source of the scent he’s been tracking. You’re definitely way older than the pup who called you sis, and your body has been toned from years of fighting off enemies. He eyes your dribbling pussy, your flushed cheeks, and your agitated body language.

Oh yeah, he’s come to the right place. He doesn’t get another chance to eye you up before he’s face-to-face with the barrel of a gun. Right in front of him is a much older dog hybrid wearing glasses. “Howdy pardner. Ya got ten seconds to step away from ma grandbabies b’fer I put lead in ya.”

He wisely retreats, his hands up as he steps back into the woods. The whole time he does, he’s kept his eyes on your hut, watching you squint at him as you slam your window shut. Now that he’s confirmed your presence, there’s no way he’s just going to leave.

He spends a day or two observing your brother and grandpa’s behavior, taking note of their quirks. His tongue licks his lip as his hand strokes his cock, thinking about your previous appearance. You didn’t bother throwing on a shirt or undergarments, as your heat made wearing clothes extremely unbearable. The wolf grins, as he waits for the sun to go down…

…At night, you’re awoken by the sound of your door creaking open and the smell of a wolf inside your room. Before you could fully open your bleary eyes, the wolf hybrid pins you down, your combined weight sinking into the mattress. “You smell better up close,” The wolf growls, nibbling at your neck. You thrash about, trying to push him off of you. “Quit squirmin’-”

Your freeze when you feel his hardening length slide against your folds, your pussy instantly clenching around nothing while secreting arousal. “G-Get offa me!” You say, hitting his shoulders in a futile attempt to drive him off. However, the wolf manages to grab your hands, holding your wrists down with one of his own hands while the other caresses your body. An involuntary whimper leaves your mouth when he fondles one of your breasts, kneading the flesh in his palm while his cock smears itself in your juices. You’re acutely aware of how large he is, and you haven’t at all taken a toy that matched anywhere near his size.

“Poor thing. Haven’t your humans gotten you a mate yet? Then again, I bet they’d just grab some random stray off the street… But don’t worry, girl. I’ll make sure to satisfy ya.”

His lips crash into yours, tongue forcing its way inside and tangling with yours. Your moans are muffled as he presses his body closer to yours, legs parting wide open. “N-Noooo…” You whimper, trying in vain to shut your legs, watching as the wolf angles his cock towards your entrance. The tip breaches your entrance, causing your legs to fly up from the stimulation as you become breathless. Gasps are wrung out of you as your walls struggle to take the wolf’s length. He growls, hand on your hip as he tries to coax you into loosen up.

You struggle to breath, eyes rolling into your skull as he fully sheathes his cock within your warmth, the nearly kissing your cervix. The wolf huffs, noting the little ring of white decorating the base of his shaft as he draws his hips back, shallowly thrusting inside. “Squeezin’ me real good there, girl. You’ve been hungry for a man’s cock for a while now, haven’t you?”

“N-No- Mmh!” Your protests are cut off when he gives you a sharp thrust in reply. Your hut quickly fills with lewd slapping as you pant out, your poor cunt being constantly rubbed by the wolf’s length. “T-Take it out! I don’t- Aaah! I d-don’t wanna be your mate! Oooh!” You yelp when he suddenly sinks his fangs into your neck, marking you as he roughly slams against you. You’re suddenly flipped on your front, ass up in the air while your face is smooshed down on the pillow.

“This whole den of yours will be perfect for our cubs,” The wolf groans, grinding himself close to your ass while his cock stirs your insides. You shake your head, tears dripping into the bed sheets as the wolf picks up the pace again, making you cry out for mercy. “Fuck- What do you say? I’ll give you a- huff- A litter. We’ll make a whole new pack together.”

“I- I don’t wanna-” You sniffle. The wolf chuckles as his hand swoops down to tease at your clit, the sensation making you cry out in alarm. “I don’t want a litter! I- I don’t-”

“Your pussy says otherwise. Huff- It’s squeezin’ the life outta me. Guess I’ll have to give your body what it needs.”

“N-no! Ohhh! Ahhhhhh! N-Not inside, please! Ah! Ah! I ain’t ready to be a mama! Ah! Ahhhhhhhhh!!”

Gripping your hips tight, the wolf pounds you hard until the feeling in your stomach snaps when you feel his knot squeeze in with a pop!, clamping down on his cock while he pumps his seed inside. You go brainless as your hips push against him, tongue lolling out while he snarls in approval. “There you- pant- go. See how nice you feel?”

Your world spins as he pulls you up, your back against his chest as he gently bounces you up and down on his knot.

The next day…

The poor farmhand who is sent to check on you is thinking about possible jobs he might take after he witnesses the scene happening within your home.

Your legs were wrapped your mate’s waist as he bounces you in tandem with his thrusts, streams of cum leaking from your drooling cunt and onto the floor below. The wolf hybrid growls, forcing his knot in your cunt as you whine from the overstimulation, pulsing around his cock as your arousal gushes around him. The farmhand wisely decides to leave you two alone when the wolf snarls at him, closing the door as he walks off.

“...I ain’t getting paid enough for this shit.”

A few months later, you’ve given birth to a healthy litter of wolfdog hybrids. Your mate licks the bite mark he left on your skin as your children suckle on your breasts. Though your grandpa was less than pleased, he begrudgingly puts up with the wolf hybrid as he watches over his great-grandchildren, while your brother plays with one of your daughters.

Safe to say, you won’t be getting rid of that darn wolf any time soon.

[slickchickchocolatier]

MIND GOING BRR AT THINKING ABOUT HOW SEX WITH HUMAN HEESEUNG AND IMMORTAL YN WENT,did she....act like a succubus or was as clueless as the mortal yn

And it went down exactly like this….

Warnings: Smuuuuuuuuuuuut central here. Y/n gets deceived, y/n is a bad girl, y/n gets it, heeleads swap y/n’s, alternate universe, mention of the word ‘r*pe*, devil baby eating people, unprotected smut, non-con/sub-con smut, heavy noncon smut vibes, time space continuum, time space travel, different worlds, kind of a marvel vs dc vibe. This is an aftermath from the Drabble “Somewhere in Time”.

You stood firm, crossing your arms while doing your best to remain ignorant. Knowing that this wouldn’t end well for you, you braced for impact, expecting for him to grab you from behind and twirl you around. There had been a handful of times that you and Helel had little arguments, but with him being the devil and ultimate powerful, many would deem it pointless to even try and throw a fit. Perhaps you were just too damn stubborn and prideful to submit, even knowing that the white flag would be waved in a moment….he always had his ways.

Facing the side of the mortal realm, you waited for the moment where he’d take you to bed by force. It would be a repeated act where you’re on the bed underneath him, taking in the rape as it slowly progresses to submission. As per usual, he’ll get you to the point where you’ll stop fighting, and beg for more until you can’t take it any longer, in which he’ll have you back to screaming for mercy. What a sicko. But, he IS the devil after all…and you’re married to him.

It all started after you returned home with him. You thought all would be well since a spark arose within you after Helel and his alternate souls rescued you and your own counterparts. For so many years since he’s taken you, you fought physically and emotionally against the idea of accepting his love. But your pride grew weak and you started to fall for him….no doubt it was a result of a disorder enforced by his own method. Anyone suppressed by a kind captor will eventually fall for them.

Upon the return to Hell from the most recent endeavor, you grew angry in seeing baby Helan sitting there, tearing the pieces of mortal flesh. You stood in total shock as the toddler tone of “mommy! Mommy!” Came out from those bloody lips. The red stain smeared his face and clothes as he sat there reaching up, closing and opening his fingers enthusiastically, waiting for you to pick him up. There were bits and pieces of limbs, fingers, organs and all sorts of fleshy parts you refused to look at. That innocent smile on your child’s face was a facade; behind it was pure malice and grotesque evil, enabled by his father.

“W-what-…!!” You stutter as you trembled, falling to your knees as your baby rushed over and hugged you. “Mommy! I missed you!”

Your eyes remained wide in horror while your hands stayed glued to the stone floor, you couldn’t think or react, not even to return the embrace of your own child.

Later that evening, you spoke to Helel about it begrudgingly.

“I thought we had an agreement that I don’t want Helan to do things like that.”

Helel scoffed as he finished sipping on his wine glass. A faint gulp slides down as he sides-eye you. Placing it down on the table, he reaches and began loosening his collard tie, smirking an adoring look over to you. “It was hardly an agreement. You mentioned your complaints and I listened.”

Here we go. This is the part that of which you hate. “Darling, he’s a growing boy…and not like the ones from where you originated. He needs flesh and blood in order to grow. Once he reaches a mature age he will be able to live without ever requiring the need for sustenance.”

You shook your head. “No…no I don’t like that. There has to be another way. I don’t want my baby to do monstrous things.”

He looks you over. “You? The Goddess of Hell—“

“HE’S MY BABY TOO!” You yelled, fierce anger in your eyes as you sphered them in his direction. His affectionate smile slowly starts to fade and his hand drops as he releases his tie. With a raise of a brow, his eyes wide and you knew, you crossed the line. A

He slowly walks over calmly, surprisingly. Whenever he was upset with you he’d immediately became forceful, teaching you a lesson while reiterating how much he loved you, and that it was all for your own good. But this time, he truly was pissed off. Not that you were justifying him, but a slight bit of you could understand his position. Your son is the offspring of the Devil after all, and the latter had just went through Heaven and Hell, visiting multiple worlds in gathering a league to save you and all versions of you. In his eyes, you were coming off as ungrateful.

His silence was more frightening than anything. He stood, watching as you tucked your chin and stared at the ground in shame. He peers down his outstanding height and just looks at you….sternly, with rage. What was more unusual was that he merely took a piece of your hair, and rubbed it together. He was being so tender and gentle, despite his eyes violating you through every hole in your body.

He sighs. “Bad girl.” Was all he barely whispers with a slight deep tone.

You shook as the shive stabbed your spine. You were going to get it this time.

“I-I—“ he cuts you off as he places a finger over your lips. “Shhhh…don’t fucking speak.”

You trembled. “Go to the bed, and stay there.”

You did as he demanded and tucked yourself away under the velvet bedding. He was being odd and handing this situation differently. God, it scared you so much.

He quietly leaves the room. You knew better than to try and follow or leave. The man has eyes and ears everywhere; it is Hell after all.

You were so scared that the fear took an emotional strain out of you, exhausting you. You drifted off to sleep immediately, unaware of what was coming.

………

“Geez, what is it now? Why are you here?”

“Ah—collecting the savoring morsels for your lovely girl, are we?”

“Isn’t there a lovely girl of your own that you should be feeding?”

“Precisely why I’m here.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

Helel grins as he converses with his identical alternate.

“Be truthful. You love her.”

“Duh.”

“You love her so much that you also adore ALL flavors of her…don’t you?”

……

Heeseung stares sternly at his Devil counterpart. “Is there a point to this?”

“I am saying, o’hostile college-pretty-boy, that you and I are same. We love and kill for our brides. We are the only ones that love and care for them…all of them.” Helel crosses his arms. “You’re not the type to share…but is it really sharing if it is…you? “

Heeseung’s eyes sparked in rage, yet the devil continued. “And don’t you…want to experience your pretty baby in a different light?”

His counterpart calmed down. There wasn’t any denying the fact that the moment he saw you…other versions of you, his mind went wild. For you, he lives and breathes; it was blissful to have you in his life…what could be better than to have multiple duplicates of his precious girl?

“If we do this, just know that I’m not going to be restricted by any means. If I’m fucking my girl, regardless if it’s an alternate variant of her, I’m going all in.”

Helel smirks. “Relatable.”

“I can take who’s next.” The cashier spoke as the two remained facing each other. Both flaring a deadly smile.

……………..

You woke up, still in bed. Helel didn’t come back? Was he really that angry? What was he doing? This was too terrifying to deal with. You can’t believe you were saying this but in a sense, you’d wish he’d just rape and fuck your brains out already. At least you’d find some pleasure and resolvement from it….but this…this sense of unknowing his intentions was too dangerous. He always says he’d love you too much but is there a line that even YOU cannot cross with the Devil?

The e door gently opens, and you hear the foot steps walk around the large platform bed frame. “Helel?”

“Mmhmm.”

He walks over, and doesn’t say anything more as he moves his fingers, signaling for you to crawl closer towards the edge of the bed. He had a soft smirk. It was strange, though. His aura seemed off-putting. Your senses could feel there was something different but you couldn’t put your finger on it. Abiding by his non-verbal signal, you crawl over on all fours and allowed those two fingers to caress your chin. “You’ve been a bad girl?”

He spoke in an inquired tone. You assumed it was him being antagonizing in his demeanor, since you recognized the signs of sexual tension rising. “Yes…I’ve been bad..” you softly responded. You knew what he wanted to hear. You knew that he intended to punish you.

“Well, let’s do something about that.” He sighs out, leaning down as he grips your jawline. His elegant attire of black satin and white chiffon just made him so classy and irresistible. He kisses you, and to your surprise it was warm and tender. “Take it off.” He whispers, staring into your eye with an aloof but soft expression.

You began shedding off your undergarments, leaving just the garter and thigh high, damask stockings in place. “Good. Now take mine off.”

You undress him, beginning with his tie. Once you got the undershirt unbuttoned, he slowly pushed your head down, dragging your cheek against his entire abdominal muscles. You took the hint and undid his trousers, reaching to release his throbbing muscle; and it was throbbing. It was breathing to you.

“Put that bad little mouth on it.”

His voice was smooth and airy. Deep and dark. God, this man was so fine. Why the hell did you yell at him in the first place?

You lavished his cock with your saliva. Smoothing the moisture up and down, you dragged your tongue and traced every bit of vein and inch of it. He grits his teeth, enjoying this so much more than you expected. He slaps his hands on your arms as he flings you on your back. You yelped from the sudden change of motion as the level of force you recognized started to appear. Here it is…here is what you were both, dreading and looking forward to.

“H-Helel…” you whispered. “Wrong name baby.” He responded back as he kisses you, shoving his hand in between your thighs. You gasped out into his mouth. “Heeseung! Heeseung!”

It wasn’t odd to you, after all he went by both his original title and the name he adopted, the one that his brothers often called him by. Normally, however, during his deliverance of his punishments, he’d force you to call him Helel. But it seems he may have cooled off and wasn’t as angry anymore.

“Heeseung!” You gasped as he ravished your breasts with his tongue. This was all enough to get you ovulating, you swore to yourself.

“Come here…bad girl.”

You nod as he started to incorporate more force, aggression, and roughness as he lines himself to your center, all while placing one thigh on his hip as the other rested against his bicep, extending the leg up and over his shoulder. You were left wide open for him to take you…

He slides in, slowly. Sloooooooowly.

“Ah!! Heeseung!” You yell, gasping for air as your pants increases. He makes you watch as he continues to go in…slowly. When he finally was all in, he grinds his balls against your taint as he leans forward and fully hovers above you. “Let’s fuck the bad out and full you with some goodness.”

You furrow your brows in worry as you await for the ultimate pounding to occur. Fuck he is going to ruin you.

He slides out, the relief of the tight fullness dissipates as he gets all but the tip out, when suddenly….

“AHHH!!! FFFFUCK!!! SSSSTOP!!”

You can’t recall him ever going this brutal, it was as if he was starving for you. The only time you ever felt him this needy was when he took you for the first time. Thrusting, pounding, and reaching depths of your interior that was enough to make you drool and pass out, you lay mercilessly and took every bit of his thunder.

“Yeah? Fucking beg! Bad fucking girl, come on! Beg!” He grits out as the beads of sweat start to form on every inch of his smooth skin.

Screaming, crying, and panting, he gets you dumb-fucked until finally you reach that peak that took time to build up. Through all the pain and rough aggression, it finally pushed through and to his pleasure, you begged for him to keep going.

“Oh please! Please…don’t stop! Don’t stop! Don’t stop…fffffucking me!”

He smirks as he picks up the pace and goes faster. Your body bounces rigorously against the bedsheets as he slams into you. What a delightful scene it was to see you helplessly taking his cock and shifting in wild motion as he pumps you repeatedly. In fact, you were bouncing so much from the impact, he had to hold you by the neck to hold you steady as he enhanced momentum.

Gritting his teeth and flinging his head back, you watched as his naked body knelt before twitches while he releases. “Fuck!”

He pulsates and fills you, and for a moment the softness that came after had you thinking he was done…but he wasn’t.

The tightening of his grip around your neck said otherwise. His hips regain the thrusting motion, starting off slow and picking up pace. “Heeseung…no!” You gasp as the pleasure remained but the pain was starting to sting.

For who knows how long, he pelted you over and over again. Words in between of “let me enjoy this…” were harshly whispered into your ear as he changed positions and flipped you over, turn you onto your side, and even had you on top, while he still carried the rhythm and controlled the movements. Fucked left, right, up, and down, you realized that he was indeed punishing you as he went beyond in delivering overstimulation and pain.

By the time he released for the sixth or seventh time, you begged with barely any air in your lungs. “N-no more….p-ppplease….”

Your body was lifeless as he catches his breath. “Fuck that was better than I imagined.”

He quickly dresses, still somewhat sweaty which was surprising, considering he never really eluded such human traits. “I…I’m sssso-rry…sorry…”

You barely got it out of you but you managed to apologize, hoping that he would allow you to rest fully tonight. “Aw baby.” He whispers as he leans in and kisses you. His hand grabs hold of yours and he interlocks your fingers together as he massages the back of your palm. Breaking the kiss, he tells you…

“I’ll let him know. Wish I could stay, but I gotta get back to you.”

What?……

You didn’t have the energy to respond, but it suddenly clicked. The change in his aura, the sweat beads, and the way he ferociously fucked you with starved hunger in his eyes.

“H-Heeseung…” you gently spoke out as you recognized the figure from the incident. The one who belonged to the youngest version of your being. You watched as he smirked. “Wrong name baby.”

You looked him from the side as your hair is messily plastered to your face, and your body drained. You couldn’t even form the confused expression in your eye as he spoke his words. He smiled and there, you witnessed one inhuman trait among this man. His eyes darken, his grin becomes sinisterly devious as he bites down his bottom lip. “Be sure to name one of the kids after me. Little Ethan has a ring to it.”

He kisses you once more and takes his leave.

Moments later, he comes in…Helel. With an offensive smirk, he notes your exhausted body. You barely could move as you moaned, struggling to regain composure. Standing side the bed, you heard the disheveling spill of cloth as he sheds off his attire, piece by piece. You felt his hand grab you waist as he turns you fully over to your back as he crawls on top of you. Gently wiping the pieces of sweaty stands from your forehead, he admires your face as his fingers tap against your cheek and the corner of your lips.

Oh no….

“Now, let’s hear that apology, hm?” He smirks against your ear as he lines the tip to your worn and beaten entrance. “Let’s hear how sorry you REEEEEAALLY are.”

“Nnngh….nnmph!” You moaned as you struggled to gain a breath in, he’s pushing into you. Your legs begin to shiver and your spine jolts from the hypersensitivity levels that radiates from your core. “Now that I had some time to blow off some steam, I figure this is more than an appropriate time for you to show daddy how you’re going to make up for your mistake, hm? Let’s turn you back into a good girl again.”

The worst and best night of your entire afterlife. Two of the same men pile-driving you. So this is why he was so calm earlier…what a devious man he was. You knew you had already lost, and you were about to lose even more. Since that’s the case, you thought it be fitting to get a word in, knowing he wasn’t going to go easy, despite his demeanor.

“Ethan…”

“Pardon?” He widened his eyes as he lifts a stern brow. “N-next child….i brrrring in…name is…E-Ethan…”

He smirks. “Ah…Ethan. Right.” Kissing you, he pulls away as he pinches your chin. “If it’s a bunch of heathens you want, no problem. I can give you loads of them.” He snaps his fingers.

You saw them walk in. The sight put your breath on hold and caused your eyes to sting in despair as you watched each fine, nude form stand around the bed, stroking their cocks at the sight of you. “How about a godly descendant, a pair of twins, and a nations most wanted? Sounds like you’re eager to be a mommy again, and you know I aim to please you…darling.”

With a dark chuckle, he spoke as the others closed in.

“Let’s fuck her boys.”

No…NO! NOO!!!!! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!

- Fin

Taglist: @enheene , aiden2001 , @heeseung-min , @lathan1510 , @rayofsunshineeee , @hoyeonheeseung , @rayofsunshineeee , @yohanabanana , @sunoosrightbuttcheek , @jaeneohee , @icydawon , @silcry , @iamliacamila , @nikstrange , @enheene ; @nuriicata , @en-happiness @lisaaannna @en-geneisaxx

[wangxianficfinder]

In the mood for...

Sep 15th

~*~

1. hi, hope you’re doing well.

i’m looking for post-canon fic recs with wangxian living in their own home (not at the cloud recesses)

or they could be travelling cultivators like songxiao.

thank you in advance 💖

❤️ Attempting the Impossible by Ariaste for williedustice (T, 36k, WangXian, JC & WWX, Post-Canon, Yunmeng Bros Reconciliation, Adoption, Family Fluff, Kid fic, Family drama, Fluff, 🔒[PODFIC] Attempting the Impossible by Ariaste by lunatique)

🔒To heal and nurture by Aki_no_hikari (G, 11k, WangXian, Post-Canon, Memories, Married Couple, Domestic Fluff, Festivals, Healing, Trauma Recovery, Light Angst)

~*~

2. hello, do you have fic recs for yunmeng jiang head disciple wwx? him being a mentor, a kind and reassuring presence by his juniors’ side.

Dispersing Clouds by dreamingofcake (E, 283k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Genius WWX, Inventor WWX, Not Jiang Family Friendly, Abusive YZY, Canonical Child Abuse, Hurt/Comfort, Slow Burn, Eventual Sex, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm (Background Character), Background Character Deaths, child deaths, Canon JC, Good Uncle LQR, Accidental Baby Acquisition, Cultivation Sect Politics, Homophobia, Heteronormativity, Feelings Realization, WWX is Not Oblivious) WWX does quit the Jiang sect in this one, but the earlier chapters do show him going about his duties as head disciple & generally being good at it

~*~

3. hi! ITMF wangxian fic where wwx is a clan leader of the wen remnants, preferably finished:D i dont mind any lenght or rating @brokensvndown

body and soul by TooSel (E, 41k, wangxian, Canon Divergence, Fix-It, Marriage Proposal, Everyone Lives AU, Cultivation Sect Politics, Yílíng Wèi Sect AU, Adoption, Smut, Friends to Lovers, Angst with a Happy Ending)

Grave dirt by esama (T, 92k, WangXian, canon divergence, yiling wei sect au, demonic cultivation, farming, found family, pre-slash, politics, fix-it of sorts)

~*~

4. ITMF request! I guess this falls under CQL/Untamed than the novel, but I'd love any fics where WWX gets found/raised by/raised with Xiao Xingchen (and/or Song Lan!). AUs okay but please no Jiang bashing. Thank you so much for all you do for us!!!!

Become Tomorrow by ShanaStoryteller (Not rated, 39k, wangxian, BSSR/LY, Alternate Universe, a story full of tragic pining gays, and one chaotic gremlin, Cloud Recesses Study Arc, WWX is BSSR’s disciple) link in #15A has WWX as BSSR's disciple and XXC shows up later in the fic

Frost moon's sun by RenaFair (T, 116k, WangXian, XXC/SL, Slow Build, Childhood Sweethearts, Angst and Feels, Fluff, Family Feels, Canon Divergence, Mentions of Smut, Attempt at Humor) link in #15A

I Will Call You By Name by DisasterMages (T, 73k, WangXian, WWX raised by XXC, Canon Divergence, Family Feels)

~*~

5. I'm looking for fics where wwx is assaulted (SEXUALLY OR NON SEXUALLY, DOESN'T MATTER) and there's AFTERMATH AND PUNISHMENT for the assailants.

Last time I asked, a single fic was rec'ed. After that I went to Ao3 to filter search myself. But I was disappointed by a lot. Under r*pe/non- con (rape) tag it's actually pwp fics. Under aftermath tagged fics, there's isn't actually any aftermath , like one I read was so unrealistic and.... that it hurt.

Please help.

🧡 Heaven Has No Rage by flipfloppandas (M, 51k, WWX & YZY, JFM/YZY,  implied wangxian, WWX/WC, WWX/others, rape/non-con, modern, hurt/comfort, protective YZY, good parent YZY, hospitals, medical procedures, vomiting, trauma) Madam Yu finds WWX in the aftermath of SA, and stays with him thru the hospital visit and talking to detectives. Ends with her being determined to fuck his attackers up, has lots of good bonding moments as she makes up for her bad parenting and gets protective of him. Very emotional and cathartic, 10/10

a rumination of things by AvoOwO (M, 89k, WangXian, JC & WWX, JC & LWJ, LWJ & LQR, LXC & LWJ, LQR & WWX, JC & NHS & WWX, NHS & LWJ, Graphic Depictions of Violence, Cloud Recesses Study Arc, Fluff and Angst, Cutesy, LWJ Has a Crush, POV LWJ, Protective LWJ, Pining LWJ, LWJ Has Feelings, Courting Rituals, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Poisoning, Dorks in Love, Love Confessions, First Kiss, Mind Manipulation, Manipulation, JC & LWJ Dislike Each Other, Good Sibling JC, Rabbits, Feels, Emotional Hurt, Supportive LXC, Good Uncle LQR, LQR Metaphorically Qi-Deviates, Blushing, Fainting, Soft WangXian, Cute WangXian, Laughter, Dubious Consent, Kissing, Feelings Realization, Hurt/Comfort, Hurt WWX, Hurt LWJ, Blood and Injury, Blood and Violence, Canon-Typical Violence, Drowning, Torture, Threats of Violence, Death Threats, Choking, Stabbing, Major Character Injury, Smart LWJ, Smart WWX, Murder, Kidnapping, Gags, Vomiting, Literal Sleeping Together, WWX Has PTSD, Food Issues, Sharing Clothes, Hair Brushing, Hair Braiding, Heavy Angst with a Happy Ending, Holding Hands, Angry WWX, Protectiveness, Caretaking, Crying, Food as a Metaphor for Love, the mortifying idea of being known, Suicidal Thoughts, Angry LWJ, Night Hunts, Protective JC, WWX Has Issues, Aftermath of Violence, Blood and Gore, Cannibalism, Graphic Description of Corpses, Corpse Desecration, Trauma, Body Horror, Cannibalistic Thoughts, Case Fic, Dead CSSR, Memories, Emotions, Past Child Abuse, Canon Divergence, Painting, Temporary Amnesia, Date Rape Drug/Roofies, Drink Spiking, Victim Blaming, WWX is a Mess, Politics, Protective LXC, Good Sibling LXC, LQR Tries, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, WWX Needs a Hug, someone gets punched a lot, LWJ contemplates murder for a moment, JC almost gets it done, not quite about romance as much as romance elements there, more so about the small things, LWJ loves how WWX smells, some nasty things are said, WWX def needs a nap, he gets one dw, LQR Gets Shit Done, NHS is a Little Shit, Scheming NHS)

Silenced by Tasharene (M, 63k, WangXian, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, PTSD, Temporary Blindness, Aversion to touch, Fear of crowds, Panic Attacks, Post-Canon, WWX Whump, Hurt WWX, Whump, Angst with a Happy Ending, world-class troll LXC, see the archive Warnings BEFORE you accuse me of not tagging things!!!)

And Time Is But a Paper Moon by sami (M, 138k, WangXian, XiChengQing, Time Travel, Fix-It, Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Healing, Mental Health Issues, PTSD, Hurt/Comfort, Depression, BAMF WWX, BAMF JC, BAMF LWJ, BAMF JYL, Getting Together) There's an arc from Ch. 28-33 where WWX is temporarily kidnapped and tortured. Chapter 28 includes the initial attack and some very swift justice/revenge, followed in Chapter 33 by further apology & recompense. Intervening chapters are wwx receiving medical attention and recovering. I also suggest trying the "Rape Recovery" tag if you haven't already.

Dream a little dream of me by Moominmammashandbag (M, 60k, WangXian, SangYu, Prison, Hair Washing, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, mentions of torture, Mention of dismemberment, Coming Out, Anxiety Disorder, Anxiety Attacks, goose!NMJ, Reincarnation, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Incest, Dreamwalking, Angst with a Happy Ending, JZX Lives) instead of being dead, wwx is imprisoned & tortured under koi tower during the timeskip. he's rescued and heals and there's a big trial at the end where he (& nmj) get justice.

clean from the war (your heart fits like a key) by sysrae (E, 28k, WangXian, Modern AU, Reunions, past xy/wwx, xy is fucked up but not evil because it's a modern AU and I said so, Hurt/Comfort, Panic Attacks, past wwx/jfm, Past Rape/Non-con, Past Abuse, Rape Recovery, transphobic violence, Victim Blaming, Past wwx/others, allusions to past self-harm) tagged past jfm/wwx (wwx runs away and has trauma)

I searched for another fic but couldn't find it--wwx gets drunk and gets taken advantage of but thinks he has cheated on lwj and is broken up about it. It had very well-written exploration of both wwx and lwj figuring it out.

~*~

6. Hello,

Do you know any lwj-critical fics?

Not condemning but discussing his inactions when he was actually known for being stubborn and "righteous".

Something like that. Itmf

Thank you!

New Perspective by mrcformoso (T, 8k, WangXian, LSZ & LWJ, Major Character Death, Angst, Hopeful Ending, Fatherhood, Regrets, Flashbacks, POV LWJ, LWJ-centric, Canonical Character Death - WWX, Pining LWJ, LWJ Has Feelings, LWJ Needs a Hug, Character Development, Dead WWX, LWJ deals with the death of his love, And learns to be a father along the way, Introspection, Feelings, LWJ is Bad at Feelings, Character Study, WWX’s death in The Untamed was too raw, Regretful LWJ, Breaking Toxic Cycles, Canon Compliant, LWJ in Seclusion, Post-LWJ in Seclusion, Child LSZ) does being critical of himself count? Hahaha

Arrayed by FirefliesNLightningBugs (M, 5k, wangxian, angst w/ happy ending, LSZ found by LXC, LSZ keeps his memories, alive JYL & JZX, canon temporary character death, WIP) kinda does this with an outsider pov referencing how lz tried to report true info and take action but he wasn't believed and prevented from acting (with the outsider pov of lxc slowly realizing that lz had the right of it)

~*~

7. Hello, this is for ITMF, are there any fics where WWX is a doctor or a health professional? It can be both modern or not. I have read one before, and hopefully there are more. Thank you 😊. @suibianxjiangui

Anginal Equivalents by fakeplasticlily (E, 23k, WangXian, Modern, Medical Residents AU, Childhood Friends, Mutual Pining, Oblivious WWX, Sexual Content, Podfic Available)

🧡 Like a House on Fire by KouriArashi (T, 82k, WangXian, Modern au, Paramedics, Firefighters, Light angst, Mutual pining, Kid fic, Past drug use, Past child abuse, Families of choice, Domestic fluff)

trust your fingertips by plonk (Not Rated, 15k, WangXian, Aphrodisiacs, Medical Kink, Canon Era, Different First Meeting)

plant a little happiness (let the roots run deep) by fleurdeliser (E, 47k, WangXian, Modern AU, Car Accidents, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Non-Explicit References to Injuries and Death, References to Addiction, Doctors & Physicians, Falling In Love, soft romance, background 3zun, [Podfic of] plant a little happiness (let the roots run deep) by knight_tracer)

To lurk, to lie in wait by trippednfell (M, 124k, WangXian, Modern AU, strangers to co-parents to lovers, Strangers to Lovers, Kid Fic, teenage juniors, background NieLan, Angst with a Happy Ending, Case Fic, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Not Really Character Death, If there is main character death it's very temporary, Fox Spirit WWX, Dragon LWJ, Blood and Injury, Additional Warnings In Author's Note)

Nursery Rhymes by manaika (M, 96k, WangXian, NieLan, Modern AU, Inexperienced WWX, Experienced LWJ, Reconciliation, Budding Love, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Unreliable Narrator, Medical Inaccuracies, Slow Burn, Past Character Death, Childhood Trauma, Found Family, Past Injury, Nurse! WWX, Doctor! LXC, Teacher! LWJ, Character With A Heart Condition (Major), Past Incarceration (Major Character), Underage Character With Leukemia (Minor))

To Deliver an Heir by cerbykerby (E, 49k, WangXian, slight dubcon/noncon but wangxian are into it, A/B/O, Alpha LWJ, Omega WWX, Heat Sex, Knotting, Royalty Medical, Emperor LWJ, Physician WWX, Mpreg, Postpartum Depression, Breeding, Creampie, LWJ literally cannot stop himself from coming in WWX, Breastfeeding)

Eyes by SplitGirl28 (M, 60k, WangXian, WIP, Adopted WWX, Adopted by Doctor, WWX Isn't Adopted by the Jiangs, Cultivator Apothecary WWX, No Golden Core Transfer, Meet Different, WWX has a secret, Secret BAMF WWX, Pining LWJ, Oblivious WWX, WangXian Get a Happy Ending)

Operation Old Men by Chiharu (Not Rated, 37k, WangXian, JL & LJY & LSZ, JYL/JZX, Modern, Boarding School, Single Parents, Everyone Is Alive, Matchmaking, Family Dynamics, Hospitals, Meet the Family, Family Vacation, Weddings, School Reunion, Happy Ending)

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8. Hii , im currently ITMF a fic where lwj and wwx have a heated fight or a fic where they have a nasty breakup in their teen. Thank you

Tempo Rubato by Spodumene (E, 108k, wangxian, modern, angst w/ happy ending, romance, persuasion au, separations, pining, miscommunication, depression, self-harm, reconciliation, smut)

Couldn’t Scream Couldn’t Shout by mermorgie (T, 42k, WangXian, LXC & WWX, LXC & LWJ, LQR & WWX, JZX & WWX, WWX & NHS, LWJ & NHS, WIP, Not for JC stans, Muteness, Sign Language, references to selective mutism, Homophobic JC, canon JC characteristics, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Anxiety Attacks, Pining, LWJ is a Panicked Gay, Supportive Sibling LXC, JZX Tries, LQR Tries, Protective JZX, Scheming NHS, Bisexual JZX, LWJ is Bad at Communicating, WWX Has ADHD, Autistic LWJ, WWX Has a Fear of Dogs, Jiang Family Bashing)

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9. Hi! Firstly, thank you for all you do, I've got so many of my favourite fics from looking through your posts! Secondly, for the next ITMF, I'd love to read something about post-resurrection wwx finding out about lwj's punishment and going OFF at the lan elders. Preferably not too lxc bashing but i'm not too fussed. Bonus points if it's pre-wangxian and wwx's yllz-esque rage on his behalf *does things* for lwj @scenicpixie

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10. Hi so I'm looking for a fic that has wwx kind of doing gymnastics not in a modern era but like he's super flexible and he does kind of something like gymnastics to dodge or in a fight I just want him to do gymnastics too you know impress everyone not like he's showing off it's just that he's doing it because he wants to I don't know I thought it would be a great idea for a fact that I really wanted to read one if you can find one that would be great

The Darkness Before Dawn by PsycheStellata707 (M, 113k, WIP, WangXian, Angst with a Happy Ending, Time Travel Fix-It, Canon Divergence, BAMF WWX, Time Travel, Attempt at Humor, PTSD, Oblivious WWX, WWX-centric, Blind WWX, Sentient Burial Mounds, Self-Indulgent, Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Oblivious Pining, Not Canon Compliant) flexible wwx dancer moves to fight, I think darkness before the dawn on ao3 is the one where he's raised by a traveling performer group and incorporates fan dancing and other skills into his own martial art style. In it wwx is blind and its a time travel fix it, where "the price of seeing the future is the inability of seeing the present"

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11. hello! I think this qualifies as fic finder? (ITMF is probably better because I don't really know the specifics or what fic I'm looking for exactly). I just remember scrolling passed it in once in the old ITMF posts where it's a !nie WWX in modern setting. So just give some recs of !nie WWX not on the non-yummeng wwx compilation list if possible because I've read all those (both canon and modern setting are okay!), thank you!! :D

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12. hi, i’m looking for fanfics

a) where wwx is kicked out from lotus pier after punching jzx

b) wwx is best friend with nie huaisang and jwy behaves like in canon

c) people discover madam yu’s abuse on wwx

12A)

Cultivating immortality by KizuKatana (E, 231k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Rogue Cultivator WWX, Mutual Pining, BAMF WWX, BAMF LWJ, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, unreliable narrator, Found Family, First Time, novel canon relationship dynamics)

🔒 crying like a fire in the sun by Reverie (cl410) (T, 10k, WangXian, SongXiao, BSSR/LY, Runaway WWX, Canon Divergence, Everyone Lives/Nobody Die, rogue cultivator WWX, Angst, Post Cloud Recesses, Not YZY Friendly, Happy Ending, BSSR is WWX’s grandmother instead of grandmaster) link in #15A

💖 Xiao-Ying of the Third Refugee Village by abCEE (T, 31k, wangxian, WWX banished from Jiang sect, not Jiang friendly, found family, mpreg, fluff, flirting)

12C)

🔒🧡 rain falls and soaks into the earth series by RoseThorne (T, 57k, WangXian, WIP, Near Death Experience, Attempt Drowning, Madam Yu Bashing, Recovery, No war AU)

🧡 To have and to hold by Moominmammashandbag (M, 78k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Major character injury, CQL verse, Happy Ending)

🔒🧡 Company by WithBroomBefore (T, 29k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Pre-Relationship, Getting Together, POV LWJ, Fix-It, Pre-Canon, at least to start, WWX goes to Cloud Recesses, But Not In The Usual Way, fear of character death, Everybody Lives, Hurt/Comfort, Happy Ending, Light Angst, good teacher LQR, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, brief discussion of past minor character suicide, Kitten, Not YZY Friendly)

🔒 Warming up (to him) by barisan (T, 9k, LQR & WWX, WangXian, Hypothermia, Cloud Recesses Study Arc, Temporary Character Death, Medical Inaccuracies, YZY Abuses WWX, JFM Bashing, pre-wangxian, Good Uncle LQR, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort)

🔒💙 Holding shreds by barisan (T, 5k, WangXian, Cloud Recesses Study Arc, No Sunshot Campaign, Body Swap, Not for sexy shenanigans, Chronic Pain, Hurt WWX, Hurt LWJ, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Abusive YZY, Bad Parent YZY,  Bad Parent JFM, Good Uncle LQR, Hurt/Comfort, Medical Inaccuracies, POV WWX, Angst with a Happy Ending, Jiāng Family Bashing, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Getting Together, Smart WWX)

Like stones on an unseen board by Vir_Abelasan (Not rated, 11k, wangxian, Canon Divergence, Dark LWJ, Older LWJ, Teacher LWJ, dark twin jades, Age Difference, Manipulation, Protective LWJ, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Corporal Punishment, Relatively canon-typical abusive Jiangs, WWX Get a Happy Ending, WangXian Get a Happy Ending, Not JC Friendly, Not Jiang Clan Friendly)

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13. do you have any recs for fics with wangxian exploring intimacy and/or sex together? i read a really good modern au fic about it but i was wondering if there are ones set in the canon universe. tysm!

To Know, To Be Known series by cqlorphan (E, 38k, wangxian, Cock Warming, Multiple Orgasms, Marathon Sex, Under-negotiated Kink, Porn with Feelings, Aftercare, Dom/sub Undertones, Established Relationship, let LWJ get railed agenda, LWJ Learns Some Things about himself, sex tears, gratuitous use of names, Begging, Kink Discovery, Post-Canon, Bottom LWJ/Top WWX, Top LWJ/Bottom WWX, Switching, Light Bondage, Blow Jobs, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Let wwx get tied up but also let lwj railed, Repressed LWJ, and his journey to sexual abandon aided by, Inventor WWX, Cock Rings, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Dirty Talk, Rough Sex, Dildos, Rimming, Edging)

the hidden source is the watchful heart by o_honeybees (E, 10k, WangXian, Post-Canon, Getting Together, Domesticity, Touch-Starved, Grief/Mourning, Misunderstandings, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Unresolved Sexual Tension,Eventual Smut, reflections on selfishness and selflessness)

hunters seeking solid ground by Attila (E, 23k, wangxian, Canon Compliant, discussion of canon character death, Hurt/Comfort, Nightmares, bed sharing, Getting Together, Yearning, Literal Sleeping Together, Really Excessive Amounts of Hurt/Comfort)

Tripped at Every Step by brooklinegirl (E, 28k, WangXian)

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14. Hello, can anyone give me some recs of canon divergences that start after Wei Wuxian’s 3 months in the burial mounds? Thanks! :) ♡ @menimimimeni

🔒 A Heart Undying by NonsensicalRambling (M, 114k, WangXian, Undead WWX, Canon-Typical Violence, canon-typical dead things the burial mounds, Fix-It of Sorts, Canon Divergence, Eventual WangXian, No Yīn Tiger Seal, Morally Gray WWX, Animals Eating People, WWX’s questionable choices, Morally conflicted LWJ, Oblivious WWX, WWX Creates a Sect | Yiling Wei, YLLZ WWX, Sect Leader WWX, LWJ & WQ have an Understanding) WWX dies in the Burial Mounds & is undead

we’re starting at the end by Miss_Enthusiasimal (M, 92k, WangXian, JC & WWX, Time Travel, Canon Divergence, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Golden Core Reveal, Burial Mounds, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Starvation, emaciation, Cannibalism, Self-Harm, Amputation, Suicidal Thoughts, Sunshot Campaign, let JZX and WWX be friends club) WWX time travels without realising to when he was thrown into the Burial Mounds, & thinks he's dead, so instead of leaving on his own he's rescued by LWJ & JC

Return to Me by Dragon_Scribe (T, 1k, WangXian, Graphic Depictions of Violence, Fierce Corpse WWX, Angst, Music, Violence, Blood and Gore, Crying LWJ) WWX dies in the Burial Mounds & emerges as a fierce corpse

🔒 Heart of hearts series by apathyinreverie (M, 40k, WangXian, Dark LWJ(Ish), Amnesia, WWX gets to be Not Okay after the BM, Hurt WWX, Recovery, Caring, Protective LWJ, Possessive LWJ, some definite manipulation but not everything is as it seems, not nearly as dark as the tags make it sound, Canon Divergence, Golden Core Reveal, Golden Core Transfer Fix-It Kind Of, Domestic WangXian, Fluff, WWX Goes to Gusu, Possessive WWX, WWX happily atticwifing away, Sunshot Campaign, BAMF WWX, BAMF LWJ, ridiculously self-indulgent, Not Cultivation World Friendly)

Cloudy Memories Recessed by FirefliesNLightningBugs (M, 7k, WIP, JC & JYL & WWX, Adopted Sibling Relationship, Sunshot Campaign, Good Person JZX, Good Sibling JC, Good Sibling JYL, Amnesia, (kind of), Weird Magic, Demonic Cultivation, post wwx disappearing during sunshot campaign, POV Alternating, POV JC, POV JYL, POV WWX) cloudy memories recessed is a diverging au after wwx escapes bm. Wip where he comes out not fully aware of his surroundings and is initially mistaken as a fierce corpse by cultivators cause he's in such bad shape

Tether by WithBroomBefore (T, 40k, WangXian, SangLi, WWX’s passive suicidality, Canon Divergence, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies, WWX Lives, JYL Lives, Golden Core Reveal, Minor Character Death, Canon-Typical Violence, POV JYL, Grief/Mourning, Sunshot Campaign, Healing, Hurt/Comfort, Family Feels, LWJ makes friends, Fix-It, Happy Ending)

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15. A) Hello mods! Thank you for being absolute gems and doing this all! Itmf fics where wei wuxian is/used to be baoshan sanren's disciple, got raised by SongXiao (one or both), wasnt adopted by anyone/raised on the streets on his own and was raised by the Wen clan/wen ruohan himself. thank you!

B) OMG i forgot to add this one and sent my previous ask ugh but also wangxian in opposing roles AUs...like police/criminal, doctor/patient, teacher/student, lawyers for two parties on the same case etc

P.S. yes, i am looking for fics of all the above mentioned types! @yiling-laozu-is-loml

15A)

Heliocentric by Coolio101 (T, 8k, WangXian, in which WWX is born as part of the Wen Sect, Mutual Pining, LWJ and JC are friends....kind of, Wen Sect WWX, Fix-It, LWJ has zero chill and is always 2 sec away from throwing hands, but that's basically canon, also WRH is still an asshole, so if you were expecting redemption fic this might not be for you, Canon Divergence)

Sunset, Sunrise by Ariana Deralte (ArianaDeralte) (T, 57k, WWX & WRH, WangXian, WIP, Time Travel Fix-It, Crack, Temporary Character Death, sorry I killed a-Yuan for a few paragraphs before the time travel, WWX is a Wen, Genius WWX, WRH gets to rewatch the series as a treat, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, in this house we acknowledge that all the sects have flaws, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, WWX Has ADHD, Bad Parents JFM & YZY, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Autistic LWJ)

Scars of Lightning by The_peregrine_falcon (T, 6k, YZY & WWX, WWX & WRH, WangXian, YZY’s A+ Parenting, Canon Divergence, Not Canon Compliant, Wen WWX, zidian, YZY is a bitch, Canon-Typical Violence, Blood and Injury, Major Character Injury, Heavy Angst, Lotus Pier, Nightless City, Young WWX, Muteness, Hurt kind of comfort)

All Things Belong by kuroi_atropos (M, 65k, WRH & WWX, wangxian, WN & WWX, Wen WWX, abuse, whipping, manipulations, smart WWX, possessive behavior, implied/Referenced rape/non-con, past rape/non-con, WIP) Wen Ruohan realizes teen Wei Ying is his grandson & tries to lure him from the Jiang

A Thousand Things by tickertape (M, 108k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, WWX Isn’t Adopted by the Jiāngs, Developing Friendships, lots of OCs, miscommunication and misunderstandings (they’re idiots your honor), Nightmares, Hurt/Comfort, Panic Attacks, Cloud Recesses Shenanigans, Slow Burn)

Frost moon's sun by RenaFair (T, 116k, WangXian, XXC/SL, Slow Build, Childhood Sweethearts, Angst and Feels, Fluff, Family Feels, Canon Divergence, Mentions of Smut, Attempt at Humor)

Become Tomorrow by ShanaStoryteller (Not rated, 39k, wangxian, BSSR/LY, Alternate Universe, a story full of tragic pining gays, and one chaotic gremlin, Cloud Recesses Study Arc, WWX is BSSR’s disciple)

Going on charmingly by scribbet (T, 21k, WangXian, Teenage LWJ, Cloud Recesses Shenanigans, Cloud Recesses Study Arc, WWX is BSSR’s Disciple, Genius WWX, Petty LWJ, Meddling LXC, What if LWJ didn’t have an excuse to instantly write WWX off?, Canon Divergence, JFM Doesn’t Adopt WWX, WWX minus canon sense of obligation, but still with an inability to shut up around LWJ, I swear LWJ’s inner voice was no quite so snarky when I started this, JZN is unfortunately present but only to lose face, LQR’s inconsistent adherence to the Lan clan precepts, writing the effective Lan education you would like to see in the world, Technically pre-relationship, but in the typical Wangxian way of them being in deep but just not acknowledging it yet, POV LWJ)

🔒 crying like a fire in the sun by Reverie (cl410) (T, 10k, WangXian, SongXiao, BSSR/LY, Runaway WWX, Canon Divergence, Everyone Lives/Nobody Die, rogue cultivator WWX, Angst, Post Cloud Recesses, Not YZY Friendly, Happy Ending, BSSR is WWX’s grandmother instead of grandmaster) Bonus: Wei Ying gets kicked out of the Jiang's & he learns BS is his grandmother

15B)

mission report by bosbie (T, 13k, WangXian, Modern AU, superhero AU, Fluff, Humor, Getting Together, First Meetings, Falling in love, Spanish Translation)

Wei Wuxian, worst supervillain by antebunny (G, 3k, WangXian, WWX & WQ, WWX & WN, Modern, Superheroes/Superpowers, Fluff, Attempt at Humor, Light Angst, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Crack Treated Seriously, superhero LWJ, supervillain WWX, but it's stupid)

This Tornado Loves You by FeelsForBreakfast (M, 8k, WangXian, Horror, modern cultivation au, Pizza Hut, Humor, Mistaken Identity, Modern with Magic)

Fight Me? by Witch_Nova221 (G, 5k, WangXian, Romantic Comedy, Hospitals, patient LWJ, Nurse WWX, Medication, Minor burns, under the influence of medication, Funny, Silly)

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16. Hello! I just want to start off by saying you’re doing a thankless job running this blog so seriously thank you for helping us poor folk. I was wondering though if you have any possible possessive or possibly simp Lan Zhan fic recs? I want that man to be obsessed with his husband. Please and thank you 🙏 😭

🔒 At heart by apathyinreverie (M, 36k, WangXian, WIP, Dark LWJ(Ish), Amnesia, WWX gets to be Not Okay after the BM, Hurt WWX, Recovery, Caring, Protective LWJ, Possessive LWJ, some definite manipulation, but not everything is as it seems, not nearly as dark as the tags make it sound, Canon Divergence, Golden Core Revea, Golden Core Transfer Fix-It, kind of, Domestic WangXian, Fluff, WWX Goes to Gusu, Possessive WWX, WWX happily atticwifing away, Sunshot Campaign, BAMF WWX, BAMF LWJ)

Do not take that which does not belong to you by Selene210 (E, 7k, WangXian, LSZ & WWX & LWJ, dark LWJ, YLLZ WWX, Canon Divergence, Protective LWJ, Possessive LWJ, Jealous LWJ, Possessive Behavior, Possessive Sex, Kidnapping, Murder, Blood and Violence, WangXian married and have a son, Explicit Sexual Content, Biting, Marathon Sex, Multiple Orgasms, Bath Sex, Rimming, Anal Sex, Anal Fingering, WWX has an angry LWJ kink, WWX Has a Breeding Kink, Wangxian canon breeding kink, LWJ’s canon massive dick)

🔒💖 Advisable Lan rules and other shenanigans by apathyinreverie (G, 4k, WangXian, Humor, Canon Divergence, Fix-It, as in utterly unapologetic fix-it fluffiness, Drunk LWJ, exasperated WWX, Smitten LWJ, Soft WWX, Gusu Lan Sect Rules, Possessive LWJ, In Vino Veritas, Drunk Shenanigans, Fluff, Перевод на русский | Translation in Russian)

🔒 Something is wrong with A-Zhan! by HeloSoph (M, 15k, WangXIan, Graphic Depictions of Violence, Major Character Death, Underage, Canon Divergence, Time Travel Fix-It, Sort Of, Dark LWJ, Morally Gray WWX, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, WWX Isn't Adopted by the Jiangs, WWX is a Lan, WangXian Get a Happy Ending, JC Bashing, Smitten LWJ, Possessive LWJ, Engaged WangXian, because of course, though this part comes later, Blood and Violence, a lot of people die, LQR Metaphorically Qi-Deviates, because of, Shameless LWJ, LQR Tries, to fit into the following tag, Good Uncle LQR, Semi-Public Sex, or at least wangxian's version of it, Scheming NHS, POV NHS)

A Matter of Time series by mrcformoso (E, 84k, wangxian, time travel fix-it, graphic depictions of violence, underage, LWJ pov, JC pov, dark LWJ, manipulation, grooming, teen body adult mind for LWJ, happy ending for wangxian, problematic consensual underage sex, blood & violence, insane LWJ, manic LWJ) Read all the tags and warnings!

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17. Hi, itmf fics that explore wwx belief that he won't ever get a family of his own (due to position in Jiang household, social status etc) and his cottagecore fantasies.

Thank you!

🧡 Stunted, Starving Juvenility by TomatenMark (E, 859k, WangXian, WIP, Fix-it of sorts, Talisman master WWX, Not JFM Friendly, Study Arc, Getting together, Fluff and Angst, Engagement) There's a few scenes in the early chapters where WWX ponders how LWJ is out of his league due to their relative statuses & that he'd rather not marry at all if it was someone other than LWJ

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If you didn’t get an answer to your ask here, don’t forget to make use of @mdzs-kinkmeme and MDZS KINK MEME on Dreamwidth. Authors actually do use them for ideas. You may get what you order!***Your prompt doesn’t have to be kink! Fluff, crack, whatever - it’s all good!***

[xiaq]

Story time: A (sex) trope conversation with my husband

Y'all want to hear about a hilarious conversation I had with B today?

Of course you do.

So B knew one of the fic authors I follow had posted a new work and I was planning to read it after dinner while he watched some sports ball. Afterward, he asked me how it was and I said, "Eh, kinda disappointing, but for me reasons not for author reasons––the writing was bomb, as usual."

And he was like, "How was it disappointing?"

I explained that the story started right off the bat with the "fuck or die" trope which I'm not typically into because dub/non-con isn't my jam. UNLESS the characters already have a romantic/sexual interest and especially if they are secretly pining for each other and then wracked with guilt in the aftermath for enjoying the circumstances before admitting they've been in love with each other all along. In which case it's

But that was not the case, here.

And B, bless him, was like

"...I think we have fundamentally different ideas of what 'fuck or die' means, can you please explain?"

So I did––gave him a couple examples like biological imperatives or heat/rut, pollen or potions, etc.

And he was like, "Ohhh ok, that is...not what I thought it meant. How did that become a fandom thing? Is that a trope in some major franchise?" he asks.

And I was like "My love. My heart. Are you familiar with STAR TREK?? PON FARR??"

and he was like "Why are you shouting I have no idea what you're talking about."

So then he got an education.

The man has only seen a few episodes of next generation and the more recent movies so had no clue about the deep and abiding fandom fascination with Vulcan biological imperatives. But boy howdy is he now aware.