#gratuitous use of obliviate
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Tom catches Evans trying to sneak into the Restricted Section for the third time that week a couple days later.
He knocks on the door frame – the element of surprise did him no favours last time – and leans against it casually. “Hard at work, Evans?”
Evans looks up at him with a glare that could strip paint, before turning the glare back to his book.
“It must be serious, to demand so much of your focus.”
No response.
“Perhaps I can help you with your research,” he offers. “I’m quite good at it.”
“What do you want, Riddle.” From the frustrated tone to the tense body language, it’s clear this is not really a question. More of a muggle sirens-and-lights warning.
“Why are you so convinced that I want something from you?” 
“You’re a Slytherin, of course you want something.”
Tom doesn’t bother to point out that Evans is also a Slytherin; he gets the sense it’s a sore spot.
“And yet you don’t exhibit such scorn for either Malfoy or Black. What makes me so deserving of your suspicion?”
Evans snorts. “Those two couldn’t disguise what they’re really after if their lives depended on it. And neither of them is trying to get into my pants.”
“Well, more fool them.”
Evans sputters, flushing up to his ears.
“Piss off, Riddle!” The boy stands up, flinging the book closed (time magic, Tom notes – something to consider later) and almost falling over in his rush to leave as he gets tangled in his chair.
Tom darts a hand out and grabs onto Evans’ wrist before he can escape.
He narrows his eyes and considers the evidence. It’s a disproportionate reaction to an innocuously flirtatious comment. Tonight's efforts to take Evans to bed (or the table, or against the wall – he’s not picky) might be a wash, but perhaps he can learn something to improve his chances in the future.
“What’s wrong?”
“What’s wrong?” Evans scoffs, looking increasingly distraught. “Everything’s wrong! And you being weird doesn’t help.”
“Weird?” Tom says, a little offended. “If my advances are unwanted, just say the word, but there’s nothing weird–”
“Stop playing with me!”
“Why do you think I’m playing with you?”
Evans snorts derisively. “As if someone like you would be interested in someone like me.”
That brings Tom up short. Is something so trivial the only obstacle?
“Do you think so little of yourself?”
“My self-esteem is neither here nor there,” Evans says irritably. “And jesus, how big is your ego – I don’t want you, so there must be something wrong with me?”
“I didn’t say that. What did you mean by ‘someone like you’ and ‘someone like me,’ then?”
“I’m a nobody, Riddle,” Evans says after a brief pause. “No fortune to speak of, no connections in high places, no real future prospects. There’s nothing exceptional about me. And you,” he hesitates, weighing his words. “You are exceptional – you would accept nothing less for or from yourself. People expect great things from you, and I have no doubt you could achieve them.”
The boy looks straight into his eyes. “But I do doubt your ability to tell the difference between ‘great’ and ‘terrible.’” 
Tom feels a shiver slide down his spine, his breath catching in his throat. He wants to peel Evans open and find out what he knows, why he thinks that, who the hell he thinks he is to say such a thing to him. At the same time, Tom wants to get as far away from the suddenly strange boy, and that’s far more manageable at the moment.
He casts a quick obliviate and returns to his dorm. Sleep is long in coming to Tom that night.
(Tom Riddle’s Guide to Repeatedly Failing to Get Laid in the Restricted Section)
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sceletaflores · 2 months ago
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I COULD PLAY THE DOCTOR (I CAN CURE YOUR DISEASE)
pair: logan howlett x fem!reader
wc: 4.1k
contains: 18+ SMUT MDNI, swearing, established relationship, logan's pov, written with origins!logan in mind, nat veering dangerously closer to a/b/o territory with every passing day, rut cycles, oral sex (fem!receiving), fingering (fem!receiving), multiple orgasms, gratuitous amounts of dirty talk, p in v, rough sex, biting, hair pulling, size kink, belly bulging, pussy pronouns, one (1) single use of the word daddy, scent kink, pain kink, breeding kink ofc, knotting (don’t look at me…), squirting, porn w/ plot, no use of y/n.
nat’s note: don’t look at me…i don’t know how many times i swore up and down i’d never write something like this but i’m a confirmed liar apparently so…here. i mean i just figured i'm in a rut artistically so therefore the only answer is writing logan in a rut physically...i can do what i want and i don't need to explain myself or my horny thoughts. also, i debated posting this in the wake of everything that's gone down over the past two days that is still escalating and will continue to escalate in the coming weeks, but i think everyone could use a little escape from how scary things may seem right now. take a break from all the terrifying news sites and read about logan wanting to breed you :) kisses!
divider by angel @saradika-graphics!
it's been another six months, and logan needs your help...
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The burn starts on the walk home from work, a pulse of heat deep in Logan's gut that grows with every step.
It spreads slowly, sinking into his muscles and seeping up his spine as he rounds the last corner, your place less than a block away now.
It caught him off guard this time, an itch burying itself under his skin earlier in the day only to get worse and worse as he worked.
He usually knew the signs well enough to feel them start creeping in, and he was dead sure it wasn't for another few weeks.
Apparently, he was wrong.
Logan’s jaw clenches as he picks up his pace, every nerve ending in his body straining to break into a full blown sprint at the thought of you, all alone and waiting for him.
His fingers curl into tight fists, nails pressing into his palms to ground himself, though it’s hardly enough. The faint scent of you drifts up from his shirt, not even a long day at the lumberyard enough to drown it out.
By the time he reaches your door, his heartbeat is a heavy thud in his ears, syncing with the building ache of desire wracking through his body like the earth rattling boom of a raging thunder storm.
He fumbles through getting his key into the lock, hands unsteady as he tugs the door open with a little more force than necessary and finally steps inside.
The second he closes the door behind him, the heat surges, thrumming through his veins and flooding his chest. Your scent fills the air completely, stronger now, wrapping around him so thick and sweet.
"Darlin'?" His voice comes out rougher than he intends, but he's beyond caring.
Your voice floats from the other room, casual, warm enough to send a jolt through him. Logan drops his axe from his shoulder, leaning it against the door as he starts down the familiar path to your bedroom.
You're spread out on his side of the bed—oblivious, curled up with a book, wrapped in one of the flannels he must have left the last time he stayed over.
Just the sight of you does something to him, like a match dragged against a strike pad, damned on setting everything ablaze.
You glance up, and the soft smile on your lips falters as you catch sight of him.
Logan knows what he must look like, his eyes all dark and predatory, chest heaving as he rakes his hungry gaze over you like a wolf watches a lamb grazing too close to its den.
He doesn’t say anything at first, just stalks toward you with a purpose that’s as undeniable as the heat pouring off him in waves.
The book slips from your fingers, forgotten, as you lean back, the small sound of your breath hitching under the weight of his gaze is music to his ears.
Logan pauses at the edge of the bed, towering over you, letting himself drink in the way you look. So soft and serene, like some kind of invitation that begs him closer. His flannel draped loosely over your shoulders–shrouding you in his scent. 
The urge to pounce on you fights against his normal instinct to savor every second, to draw it out until the heat pooling in his gut becomes downright unbearable.
“Been thinkin’ about you all damn day,” he mutters, voice thick and dark as molasses, rough from restraint he’s quickly losing. His knuckles brush against your thigh, then tighten, holding you in place as he leans down, his breath hot against your neck. “Thinkin’ about what I was gonna when I finally got my hands on you.”
Your skin blooms with warmth beneath his touch, and he grins against your neck, the edge of his teeth grazing you just enough to make you squirm. He growls low in his throat, that itch he’s been fighting nearly all day clawing its way up to the surface with a vengeance.
The primal urge inside of him screaming to claim claim claim take take take mate mate mate breed breed breed.
You tilt your head to the side with a soft sigh, freeing up more space for him to nose along your skin. “Is it time?”
Logan's breath catches as your question hangs in the air, thick with anticipation. The soft simplicity of it ignites the wildfire burning in his gut, every ounce of restraint slipping away like sand through his fingers.
“Yeah, baby,” he growls, slipping his fingers under the worn cotton of your shorts, feeling the bare skin beneath. “It’s time.”
You shift, hands going to the buttons of his flannel like you’re going to take it off. Logan stops you, taking your wrists in his free hand.
“Don’t,” he breathes, shaking his head hard enough that his hair flows with it. “Leave it on.”
The thought of you covered in his scent, of his scent mixing with yours to claim you on a level only he can discern sends his mind buzzing.
You look up at him with those wide, trusting eyes, and something in him cracks wide open. The tenderness of your gaze pulls at him, like a tether pulling him back from the edge, but that heat still smolders in his blood, fierce and unyielding.
Logan runs his thumb along the racing pulse of your wrist before he drops them. His hands venture lower, fingers pressing against the inside of your thigh, tracing a deliberate path that makes your body tremble under his touch.
You let out a shuddering breath, the scent of your arousal swirling through the air is enough to make him crave more.
In one rough tug, Logan yanks you towards the edge of the bed as he falls to his knees. Your hips held tight in his hands as he lurches forward, burying his nose in the soft junction where your leg and inner thigh meet.
He inhales deep, greedy lungfuls of your scent. A guttural growl rumbles through his chest, his eyes screwing shut at the sheer amount of too much that courses through him. He feels dizzy with it, high on the pheromones pumping from you in waves.
You’re soaked already, the wet fabric of your shorts melded to the shape of your cunt. He can’t help but run his nose along the slick seam of you, reveling in the way your legs twitch on either side of his head, in the short gasp you let out.
“Logan.” Your voice is nothing but a mewl, pleading and desperate.
“Missed you,” he rasps, his voice rough, almost unrecognizable. The edge of need in him makes his hands shake, sliding up your thighs, urging them even further apart as he settles between them.
Logan’s fingers dig into your skin, he lets his thumbs brush up, hooking them into the waistband of your shorts to tug them down your legs in one sharp yank. He groans at the sight of you completely bare, no underwear.
“Fuck, look at you,” he grates, his thumb coming down to slip through your dripping cunt. Your hole flutters desperately around him, needy little clenches like it’s trying to suck him in. “She’s all ready for me, huh? Been waiting for me to come home and give her some attention?”
“Please,” you whimper, your voice thick with longing, the sound going straight to his head, clouding his thoughts. 
Logan’s pulse races as he watches your body arch instinctively toward his touch, the desperate need in your eyes igniting the raw urges coursing through him.
He can’t deny you; he never could. You’re a feast laid out before him, and he’s starving.
Logan leans closer, letting his tongue flick out to taste you like he’s wanted to since he left for work this morning. 
“Fuck,” he breathes, closing his eyes and losing himself in the moment. He licks a broad stripe from your entrance to your clit, savoring the way your body responds, the way your legs tremble and your hips twitch against his mouth, seeking more. “Tastes like fuckin’ heaven, sweetheart.”
The taste of you is intoxicating—sweet and tangy, flooding his senses with every drag and swirl of his tongue.
Logan can’t help but moan against you, the sound vibrating through your body as he dives deeper, his nose nudging against your slick entrance as he shakes his head back and forth like an animal—rubbing the plush skin of your inner thighs red and raw with each rough drag of his coarse beard.
Every flick of his tongue sends a shockwave through you, and he revels in the sounds you make—each whimper, each moan, a siren’s call urging him deeper. He laves his tongue around your clit, sucking it gently, pulling at it with his lips as you writhe beneath him, begging for more. 
He keeps your thighs spread wide, two strong hands pinning them to the mattress so he can devour you just the way you deserve, the sharp dig of your heels into his shoulders only spurs him on.
Your hands bury themselves in his hair, tugging him closer, and he groans into you, letting his tongue delve deeper, seeking out every bit of sweetness he can coax from you. 
It’s pure sin, each sound you make, each shiver that runs through you as he takes his time, drinking you down like a man starved. 
The ache in him intensifies, his own need growing, pulsing. He’s hard, has been hard since he walked through the front door.
His cock strains against the zipper of his jeans, need pulsing in time with each pump of his blood through his shaft, circling around the base, threatening to expand even without the tight grip of your pussy surrounding him. His hips jerk up on their own volition, desperate for any friction.
“Just like that, Logan,” you gasp, voice breathy and trembling with pleasure. 
The way you say his name—raw, desperate—makes his blood run hotter. He grips your thighs tighter, anchoring you to the bed as he drinks you in, wanting to lose himself in you completely.
Logan pulls away just long enough to catch his breath, looking up at you with lust-drunk eyes, drinking in the sight of your sweaty cheeks, your heavy-lidded gaze, the way your chest rises and falls with each shuddering breath.
The pulse of his cock intensifies, urging him to speed things along. The base desire of his own instincts is getting harder and harder to ignore under your adoring stare.
He feeds his fingers into your clenching hole with no warning, a satisfied smirk tugging his lips up at your sharp gasp. He runs his tongue along his bottom lip, the entire lower half of his face still shining with your essence.
Your cunt swallows him, two thick fingers sinking into the velvety heat like it’s nothing.
Logan groans as he feels you clench around him, your walls fluttering and drawing him in deeper. “That’s it, baby,” he mutters, his voice hoarse with need. “So fuckin’ ready for me, so ready for daddy’s fingers in your pussy.”
Your mouth drops open in another devastatingly desperate noise, your hands twist his hair roughly, soft breasts rising and falling each time you gasp for air. The dim light of the sunset filters in through the blinds, highlighting the curves of your body, slick and shining with a thin sheen of sweat.
Every clench of your walls around his fingers shoots a thrill straight to his cock, making him ache with the urge to bury himself inside you. The overwhelming need to take you completely, to mark you and fill you, pulses through his veins until he feels like he might explode.
But he’s not done tasting you yet. Not until you’re practically dripping onto the sheets.
He lowers his mouth back to your core, sucking your clit into his mouth as his fingers pump faster. The sudden intensity makes your thighs shake around his head, and he grins against you. He wants to see you fall apart—wants to feel it.
“Logan—please, I…” You can barely get the words out, voice breaking as your whole body strains against him, desperate and needy.
The wet slap of his palm against your spit soaked cunt is loud in the quiet of your bedroom, blending with the loud keens that fall from your parted lips. He crooks his fingers, rubbing at that soft, spongy spot inside of you.
“Come on,” he mutters, slick lips brushing against your clit as he speaks. “Give it to me, baby. Show me you're ready for my cock."
He drags the sharp edge of his canine against your pulsing clit with barely any pressure, and you're coming.
Your whole body tenses, back bowing off the mattress as you let out a broken cry of his name. The bite of your nails digging into his scalp feels harsh enough to draw blood, a feeble attempt at grounding yourself against the onslaught of pleasure. 
Your trembling thighs tighten around his shoulders, gripping him like a vice as your shaking cunt gushes around his fingers. Logan groans at the feeling, eyes slipping shut as you drench his wrist and chin in your juices.
Even then, he doesn’t let up, fingers pumping relentlessly as he draws out every pulse, every aftershock of your climax, every tiny spray of your release splashing against his wrist. 
He’s lost in the feel of you—slick and trembling under his hands, the scent of your release filling his lungs, thick and intoxicating.
You slump back against the bed, body limp and spent. His own need is a driving, aching force now, clawing at his insides, demanding more.
He slips his fingers free from your dripping heat, dragging them through the wetness coating his chin as he licks them clean with a growl, savoring every taste.
“Good girl,” he purrs, voice thick with pride and satisfaction as he pulls back, leaving your thighs twitching in the wake of his touch. But he still isn’t finished. Not even close.
You barely have time to catch your breath before Logan crawls up the bed, his eyes locked on you, pupils blown with need. He looms over you, hands planting on either side of your head. His cock grinds against you through the rough denim, and you can feel just how thick and hard he is, throbbing through the fabric, demanding to be freed.
With a low groan, he shifts his hips, dragging his bulge along your soaked cunt, sending another jolt of pleasure racing through you. His hands are all over you, gripping your waist, hot and possessive.
“Feel that?” he asks, pressing his lips the wild flutter of your pulse, the need to sink his teeth in the soft skin of your neck raises the hair on the back of his neck. “That’s what you do to me baby. Got me hard as a fuckin’ rock, just aching to be inside you.”
Your arms circle his shoulders, clawing at the fabric off his shirt. “Need you inside me, Logan. Please, want it so bad.”
The pure need lacing your words, your scent calling out to him, the way he can feel the front of his jeans getting soaked through with the slick pouring from your cunt all pull him deeper into the recesses of his hind-brain. 
The mounting desperation to stuff you full of his cock finally reaches a fever pitch.
With a deep growl, Logan rears back as far as he can bear, just enough to tear his shirt over his head before he fumbles with the heavy buckle of his belt to free his aching cock.
He shoves his jeans down, boxers quickly following until there’s nothing separating him from the cool air of your bedroom. His cock springs free, hot and flushed an angry red color, drooling from the tip enough that it drips down to stain the pretty floral sheets of your bed.
Your eyes zero in on him, mouth dropping open at the sight. His cock so heavy it doesn’t curve upward to slap against his stomach, instead it hangs down to sway between his thighs as he moves closer. 
Your legs spread as he nears, slick covered thighs parting to make room for him to slot between them. So obedient, so good, so well trained.
Logan takes himself in his hand, nearly wincing at the blazing temperature of his skin. He secures his hand around the base, squeezing where his knot threatens to pop before he’s even got in you.
He slips the angry head through the folds of your cunt, slapping it against your clit with a wet ‘thwack’ sound. He can feel the way it twitches and shakes, just as desperate as him.
“Look at that,” he mutters darkly, eyes glued to where he’s laid his cock flat against your stomach, leaking pre-come all over your soft skin. “How’s it gonna fit, baby?” He shifts his hips, sawing his length back and forth to see just how deep in you he’ll be.
Your glassy eyes drop, a broken moan passing through your slack lips when you take in the sight. Your hips rise off the bed, grinding your cunt along the seam of his heavy balls, along the prominent vein trailing up the underside.
“Don’t worry, baby,” Logan grits out, eyes hooded and dark as he watches you grind against him. “You’re gonna take it all. Gonna make you feel every last fuckin’ bit of me.”
He groans, gritting his teeth as he presses in further, each inch a battle against the tight, molten heat that grips him like a vice. Your body shudders as he fills you, your slick warmth pulling him deeper and deeper, and he sinks down until he’s fully seated, his hips flush with yours. 
The pressure is mind-numbing, your walls clenching around him in rhythmic pulses that make his vision blur. He stills for just a second, savoring the way your body stretches around him, hugging him in a way that feels like it was made for him alone.
Logan watches your face as you adjust to the stretch, your brows pinched together, each breath coming fast and shallow, your eyes glazed with pleasure.
Then, your hands come to his shoulders, nails digging little crescent moons into his skin as you nod your head, ready.
It’s all the confirmation he needs. His hips pull back before he slams in again, the force of it jolting your whole body. He presses his forehead to your shoulder, teeth bared as he muffles a snarl against your skin.
Logan thrusts again, and again, and again, hips setting a merciless pace as he watches the way your breasts bounce with each thrust, each little shudder.
His mouth waters with the need to taste, to sink his teeth into your supple skin hard enough to pierce clean through, hard enough to scar.
Sweat drips down the length of his spine, across his brow. It mats down the hair scattered over his chest, his dog tags slick with it when they bounce off his skin with each thrust. The grip of his hands tightens on your hips, it’s taking everything in him to hold back and yet he knows you’ll still bruise tomorrow. 
Pretty hues of dark purples and yellows in the shape of his fingers, ones he’ll catch you admiring in the bathroom mirror, pressing your own fingertips into them to feel the dull ache—to remember this moment.
“Made for this, aren’t you?” he rasps, his voice dark and possessive. “Made to take me, to be mine.”
The words barely leave his mouth before he’s bending down to capture your lips in a searing kiss, swallowing your cries as he drives into you, pushing you both closer to that sweet edge.
“Fuck, Logan,” you gasp, breaking the kiss as your body trembles under him. “Can–ah!–can feel you in my stomach…”
Your hand drops from his shoulder, slipping between your bodies to rest over the sweaty expanse of your belly. Logan’s eyes follow your path, a feral growl bursting from his chest before he can stop it.
He’s transfixed by it, sure that if he pressed his hand to the soft skin of your lower stomach right over your own, that he’d feel it. Feel the way his cock punches up against your insides, so deep it's like he’s rearranging your guts to make room.
“Fuck.” His voice is nothing but a gravelly rumble, hoarse and dark as midnight. His hips speed up impossibly faster, chasing the feeling of your clenching walls choking the length of his cock so tight he thinks it might snap off at the base.
The flimsy headboard of your bed slams against the wall, creaky mattress springs screaming under his ministrations.
You feel like salvation, like the first rays of light after too many years spent in the dark.
He feels it with each kiss of his cock against your cervix, in the way your lips fit in the junction of his neck, in the red welts your nails leave on the skin of his back. He feels alive, truly alive, for the first time in decades.
“Say my name,” he grates, his hand cupping the back of your neck, coaxing you to look up at him, lips close enough to taste the heat radiating from his skin. “Tell me who you belong to.”
"Logan," you gasp, your voice breathy, edged with desperation as he pushes you closer to the brink. "Yours. Only yours."
A broken, shaky noise falls from his lips as he buries his face in your neck. He mouths at your skin desperately, presses his nose to where your scent is the strongest. 
Flashes of his release spraying your insides play behind his closed eyes, thoughts of drenching you so thoroughly that it has to take only forcing his hips to slam against the rippling muscle of your ass like you have your own magnetic pull. He feels it building, the slow swell of his knot presses against your folds, ready to burst.
“Come on, honey,” he begs, thumb coming down to rub slow circles over your slick clit. “Come with me, soak my cock. Show me how much you love it, how much you love me.”
Pathetic little uh uh uh’s fall from you with every thrust, broken up only by the breathy whines of his name as he pounds into you hard enough to push your body higher up the mattress. Finally, with a loud roar, he stuffs his growing knot inside of your cunt. 
Logan’s teeth sink into your neck before he can even think twice about it, the thick spray of his come filling you as his hands pull your hips down even further over his cock. He needs to be as deep in you as possible, to press forward until he can’t anymore, until his aching balls are flush with your gushing cunt.
He watches with rapt attention as you come with a loud wail, just from the feeling of his knot slotting into place. The clamp of your thighs over his hips is nearly as tight as the way your cunt seizes around him like it’s scared he’ll leave.
He groans at the over stimulation of your cunt milking his cock. Your slick leaks around the base of him, your shaking hole plugged so full it can only slip along the creamy ring to splash weakly against his thighs and hips.
Logan licks along the spot where his teeth pierced your skin, planting one last kiss before he’s taking you in his arms and rolling onto his back atop the mattress. The plush comforter sticks to his skin, your own sweaty body slipping against his as he tries his best to not jostle you too much while keeping you stuffed full of his cock.
He holds you to his chest until your breathing evens out, until your body stops trembling on top of his, until you’re nosing along the column of his neck.
“Logan?” Your voice is tiny, hoarse and scratchy. He feels your hand drawing absent minded shapes along the skin of his stomach. A circle, a star, a figure eight, a heart.
“Yeah baby?” he says, pressing his lips to the crown of your head, eyes slipping shut at the content feeling that spreads through him.
“Love you,” you murmur, voice soft but sure, the words slipping out without hesitation.
It’s the first time you’ve said it today, and hearing those three words from you sends warmth flooding through him.
Logan shifts slightly, pulling you even closer, his hand moving to the back of your head, cradling you with a kind of tenderness he used to think he’d never be capable of. “I love you too, darlin’. More than you know.”
Your body relaxes against him, the lingering effects of your shared intimacy still buzzing through your limbs, but now there’s a sense of peace, of safety, and a deeper connection.
He can feel the way your fingers curl lightly against his skin, the quiet smile that must be tugging at your lips as you press a kiss to the side of his neck.
And in that moment, with everything settled around him, Logan knows that this, right here, is everything.
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questforgalas · 27 days ago
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Storm Blue Eyes and A Scottish Brogue: Reasons Simon Riley Came Back to Life
For @daredaredoodles!! Happy Ghoapmas!!! Here is some very oblivious and very yearny Ghost for you!! Oh, did I mention lots of fluff? :) I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it!!!
Thank you @forsaire for hosting!!!!
Ao3 link
Summary: It was supposed to be a holiday season like all of the others - nights filled with reports, and a base haunted by a Ghost while everyone wandered home. Three knocks on Simon's door change those plans entirely.
Words: 5K
No CWs, just tooth-rotting fluff and Gaz so done with these two
It was supposed to be quiet tonight. An intimate date between Simon, the desk in his room, and the pile of reports that magically remain the same height regardless of how many hours are put towards them (a detail Captain Price never misses). Does Simon happen to write a little slower to aid that magical spell so that he has a proper excuse when Price inevitably comes knocking on his door and asks why he hasn’t filed for leave again this December? Possibly, but that little detail belongs between Simon and the twenty minutes during which he contemplates which words to use instead of “infiltrate” and “detonation”. 
He should have known nothing ever goes according to plan. Three familiar knocks rapping against the door certainly proved that right.
Cut to Soap MacTavish standing on the other side, a smile curling his lips and azure eyes all the brighter against the navy jumper wrapping across his broad chest. Words were said, something about a night out which made sense since Soap wore dark jeans that seemed made specifically to torture Simon, and there was a glint in Soap’s eye not dissimilar to a child’s on Christmas morning. 
Ah, so, Price was picking up the tab. 
As Soap stands in the hall, punctuating his pitch to coach the lieutenant out of his room with perfectly placed smiles and a wink or two anyone else would find gratuitous but Simon found infuriatingly endearing, Simon swaps his hoodie for a black jumper, grabs his jacket, and has the door locked just as Soap says, “‘nd it’s not tha team without ma favorite lieutenant.” 
The calendars say “December”, but the unseasonably warm air makes the jacket hanging over Simon’s arm feel like overkill, making him contemplate turning around and throwing it through the door, but instead he rolls up the sleeves of his jumper. In the corner of his eye, he sees Soap watch as the fabric folds back and reveals Simon’s forearms - corded with muscle, covered in scars, one completely inked over. 
Simon wanted to tell himself that the way Soap ogled at the skin didn’t make his own feel a size too small. He wanted to tell himself the way Soap’s Adam's apple bobbed and the dusting of pink at the tip of his ears didn’t match his own. He wanted to tell himself he wouldn’t tuck this moment away safely in the gilded chest labeled “Moments He Can Pretend” that he stored in the safe recesses of his heart. 
He wanted to tell himself all of that, but unfortunately, that would make Simon a liar. 
Soap rambles on about some combination of some chemicals that Simon doesn’t understand a lick of - he’s just happy he remembers to nod at points that seem right for it - and they walk side by side through Hereford. 
“What fresh hell is this,” Simon mutters, the revelry from the pub greeting their ears when they’re still a block away. 
“Don’t fret, Lt.” Soap nudges him with his shoulder. “I’m sure it’s just ol’ Gerry with tha music up because he finally accepted he cannae hear for shit.” 
It was, in fact, not Gerry with the music up. 
The Green Pony quite literally glows on the corner. Green garland lit with soft, white lights frames every window, and electric candles flicker at the streets. Two wreaths adorned with a red ribbon bow hang on the dark wood doors, and through the windows, matching garland and lights line the entirety of the bar. A large tree pulls it all together, lighting up the far corner much to the chagrin of some patrons looking for a secluded corner away from the crowd. 
They shoulder their way through the entry and are immediately sucked into the chaos that is the Green Pony operating over capacity. Behind the bar, Gerry, the owner, a man who Simon is convinced was born in this pub, slings pints and jabs faster than any of the youngsters helping alongside him, and when he catches sight of the two men, he throws a lazy salute and points in the direction of their usual table. They break through the crowd, and the sight of Captain Price and Sergeant Kyle “Gaz” Garrick greets them at their usual booth. 
“Well fuck me,” Gaz says as they approach. “Good to see ya Ghost, but you just lost me 20 quid.” 
“Pay up,” Soap holds out his hand as he scoots in besides the other sergeant. Gaz grumbles something about “unfair advantages” as he fishes out his wallet, and hidden under a black medical mask, a smile pulls at the corner of Ghost’s lips. A terrible bet by Gaz, really. Might as well be the title of Simon’s memoir: 
Storm Blue Eyes and A Scottish Brogue: Reasons Simon Riley Could Never Say No.
 Gaz of all people should know this, and Simon’s pretty sure Soap does do. 
Simon settles in next to Price who silently nods in a way of greeting, but Simon doesn’t miss the way his mouth curls up in a smile around the lip of his glass. “Never become predictable, Sergeant. Easier to kill that way,” Simon offers. Two pints sit unclaimed on the table. Simon grabs one while nudging the other towards Soap. “‘nd have some respect. I’m worth at least 40 quid.” 
“Sound advice, sir.” Gaz tips his glass to Simon then takes a strong swig. 
The rounds disappear and reappear over and over. The older patrons begin to make their way home, thinning the crowd some but not enough to avoid Simon’s shoulder - large enough to breach the end of the booth - becoming a human bumper now and again. Someone’s hijacked the jukebox, and Mariah Carey’s been serenading them about Christmas for the past twenty minutes. Price said his goodbyes a round ago, but not before assuring “Yes, sergeants, the tab will still be open,” and he threw that look to Simon that said “They’re your circus now”. 
Now, Gaz sits at the table, chocolate eyes glassy under the lights, and a finger absentmindedly circles his pint. A dopey smile sits on his lips, and every few minutes he mumbles along to Mariah before she drowns in the din of the crowd. A word hasn’t been spoken between them since Price left - an understood respect by Gaz who knows Simon’s need for silence as much as Soap’s need to fill the air - and Simon wishes he could enjoy it. He wishes he could give Gaz that much. Instead, a dainty hand attached to a brunette he faintly recognizes from base is demanding all of his attention. 
Moments ago, Soap delivered their newest round with a thunk, earning a curse or two from Gaz who saved his pint just in time, but instead of sliding into the space next to Simon - a space he occupied as soon as Price said his goodbyes - he grabbed his pint and beelined to the bar. There, a brunette waited. They were familiar, that Simon was sure of, and Soap kept flashing that smile that Simon was desperate to be turned on him. 
And then the hand. The hand gripped Soap’s bicep, gave it a squeeze, and a laugh, airy and bright followed. The hand remained. That smile flashed brighter. 
Simon hated that hand.
She was pretty enough. Glossy hair, high cheekbones, an ass Simon assumed would be appreciated by the right eyes. Eyes that weren’t azure blue and rivaled the bays of Islay. Any eyes except those. 
The hand slides from Soap’s bicep and cups his elbow. Simon’s knuckles have gone white. He really hated that hand. 
“Ghost, mate,” Simon hears from across the table. “Bruv, that glass is about to lose whatever battle ya’ve picked against it.” Simon tears his gaze away from that hand and sets it on Garrick who, bless him, doesn’t flinch. “Mind tellin’ me what that poor glass has done to you?”
“Don’t know what you’re on ‘bout,” Simon answers and sets his eyes back on that hand that’s smartly retreated back to its owner. Lucky her, she gets to keep it. 
For now. 
Soap’s pint is forgotten on the bartop, he says something to the brunette, and the cute crease that appears when the Scot is trying to puzzle out an equation is between his brows. Simon adores that crease. His hands itch to smooth it out and fight whatever has caused it. 
He misses the questioning look on Gaz’s face and when he follows Simon’s gaze. He misses when the sergeant puts two and two together, but what he doesn’t miss is the sigh that’s pulled from Gaz’s chest and the thunk of the sergeant’s forehead against the thick, wooden table. 
“Ya’ve got to be bloody kiddin’ me.” Stunned, Simon watches as Gaz thunks his head one, two, three more times, then snaps back up. His face is nothing but anguish. “Talk to him.” 
“What?” Simon smartly replies. 
“Talk. To. Him.” Gaz accompanies each word with a thump of his pint as if hammering them into the wood would hammer them into Simon’s confused brain. 
“Talk to who?”
“Bloody ‘ell!” Simon thinks Gaz is being a bit overdramatic, what with throwing his hands in the air and acting as if Simon is the densest person in this pub. Problem is, Simon has no idea what he’s supposed to be grasping. The sergeant rubs a hand down his face, and once he’s collected himself, the stare he throws at Simon pins him to the booth. “Talk to Soap. I’m beggin’ you, Ghost. Talk to him, and save us all from havin’ to keep watching you two dance around each other like a bunch of school boys who don’t know what a crush is.” 
The words make sense. Well, they make sense that they’re words, and they’re going in one ear. But not all of them are processing and some of them are going right out the other ear leaving a jumbled tangle of words like “Soap” and “you two” and “crush” that are rattling around in the empty space of Simon’s mind. Yes, it makes sense that Garrick just said something, but the implications are mad enough that he has half a mind to order him to a psych evaluation at once. 
“Might’ve finally lost it, Garrick. Imaginin’ things now.” It’s really all he can muster past his lead laden tongue. 
Crushing on Soap, well, that was as easy as breathing. But crushing is too trivial a word, wasn’t it? Crushing was what you did on the schoolyard when the brain hadn’t learned the words that threatened to burst from your heart. Crushing was soft glances across a room and sheepish smiles dripping with honeyed words. Crushing wasn’t a deep seeded trust that you’d make it home alive as long as that one person was beside you. Crushing wasn’t intimate knowledge of a body learned in the lowlight of safehouses while rough hands guided needles through skin. Crushing wasn’t hushed confessions in the dark as you accepted your mortality.
No, Simon did not have a crush on Soap MacTavish, because a crush was too simple. A tapestry of moments woven from a tarmac to now - the bar lights catching the hidden caramel strands of Soap’s mohawk - blanketed along Simon’s very being, and no longer could he ignore that his British heart had a Scottish flag planted firmly in place. 
And because life loves to remind Simon that he is not a man destined for gentle touches and even gentler words, he watches as the brunette grasps Soap around the forearm and leads him out of the pub. “Told ya,” the words taste more bitter than he intended. “Imaginin’ things.” 
Gaz tracks the pair through the crowd. “I’m the best interrogator on the team,” he says. Simon’s brow shoots up, and he’s about to question what the hell that has anything to do with this when Gaz holds up his hand and continues. “I’m the best interrogator on this team. I can read body language at a level that, often, I wish I couldn’t. The amount of people’s secrets that they don’t even know but I know is a burden I’m cursed to carry.” Pint abandoned and a finger getting closer and closer to Simon’s chest, Gaz continues. “I don’t know what the hell ‘appened in Las Almas…well I do, I read the report, but I mean between you two. I noticed it the moment we stepped into Ale’s safehouse, and it’s only gotten worse since. We, the 141, are a team. Price and I are teammates. You and I are teammates. Johnny an-”
“He doesn’t want anyone callin’ ‘im Johnny.” Amusement dances across Gaz’s eyes, and Simon knows he fell into his trap. 
“Exactly. Anyone except?” Gaz takes Simon’s glare as confirmation. “All I’m sayin’ is, Soap and you? You’re more than teammates, Ghost. You’re the best in the world - as much as I ‘ate to admit it - not because of hours of training together or years of missions. It’s like you two are one soul, it’s absolutely mad to watch. And it’s not just on missions either. Ya both have a starin’ problem, that’s for sure. Though neither of you would know because it’s always when the other isn’t lookin’.”
“We - what?” Simon can’t fit Gaz’s words into his understanding of his relationship with Soap. 
“The heart eyes? At each other?” Gaz flutters his lashes, and Christ, it actually gets a chuckle out of Ghost, as annoyed as he is. “Ya’d think for someone whose eyes are the only part of his body he shows, you’d be better at schooling them, but I swear I’ve seen those lines at the corners actually melt whenever Soap walks into the room.” 
Oh, Gaz is proper teasing now, and Simon wants to smack the smirk right off of his face. He wants to tell him he’s delusional and that he can’t accept the image Gaz is spinning because it means taking the feelings he keeps packed away in that gilded chest in the safe corner of his heart and laying them all out there. Yet, the denial never comes, and instead, he feels his traitorous mouth curl up.
Is that…relief easing his chest? 
Gaz’s face softens. “Remember the first thing ya told me when I joined the team?” 
“Our job doesn’t guarantee tomorrow,” Simon says automatically. “Take the good moments while ya can. Don’t know ‘ow many ya’ll have.” 
“Maybe time to start takin’ your own advice, huh?” 
“Who’s advice we takin’?”
Gaz and Simon jump at the new voice, both reflexes fast enough to keep the pints from spilling over. Simon peers up, and his heart stutters. There stands Soap with cheeks rosy from the cold, and Simon has well and truly lost it because he desperately wants to loop his arm around Soap’s waist and tuck him into his side to keep him warm. 
“Just Ghost’s words of wisdom,” Gaz supplies easily. 
“Ah, only an eejit wouldn’t listen to the Ghost.” Soap stares down at the table, and he clears his throat before he continues. “Actually, Lt. I - I was hopin’ I could pull ye away?” He rubs the back of his neck, and the red on his cheeks spreads to the tips of his ears. “Unless ye don’t want to! Dinnae me - mean to interrupt, probably discussin’ something - never mind I…”
“Relax, Sergeant.” At the sound of Simon’s voice, Soap’s shoulders drop and his breaths come easier. He meets Simon’s gaze, and Simon has never seen this look in those storm blue eyes. Timid. Unsure. Bashful? “Was just finishin’ up. Garrick, ya good?” 
Gaz waves him off. “Out of ‘ere. Your dark cloud is bringin’ down the festive mood.” He throws them a wink and stands from the table, smoothing out his jumper as he eyes six feet of muscles and a jawline that could break glass leaning on the bartop. Instead of walking around them, Gaz cuts right between Simon and Soap, and just before he steps away, he leans into Simon’s ear. “Talk to him.”
The hour hasn’t cooled the air so Simon and Soap opt to wander through Hereford instead of hailing a cab. Simon blames the beer and Gaz’s words buzzing in his ears, but he feels attuned to every one of Soap’s footfalls and every sway of his arms. The street is empty, plenty of room to stroll, yet the two of them walk with barely a hair between them. A tug Simon will always follow, and maybe Gaz hasn’t completely lost it, because Soap does too. 
But because Simon can never make things easy for himself, he says “Where’s the brunette?” 
Soap looks at him, face scrunched and that crease is between his brows. It would be so simple to reach out and gently smooth his thumb along it. “Wha’ brunette?” Soap asks because he can never make it easy for Simon, either. 
“The brunette at the pub. Seemed…cozy.” If a sniper took him out, Simon wouldn’t complain. 
“Cozy?” An incredulous laugh circles around the word. He’s really going to make Simon spell it out. 
“Ya. Cozy. Thought, well, -” Simon picks at the nonexistent lint on his sweater. “Thought she was makin’ good company.” 
Soap is silent, and it’s making Simon’s skin crawl. He focuses on his steps, one in front of the other. He creates a new mission right then: get back to base, say goodnight to Soap, and not emerge from his room until everyone has left for the holidays. He has rations hidden in his desk, he can make it until then. 
“Oh, Simon,” Soap says softly between them. 
They don’t speak for the rest of the walk, but there’s a spring in Soap’s step, and whatever millimeter of space that had existed between them is eaten up entirely by the Scot. When they arrive on base, Simon prepares his goodbye, ready to go down his hall while Soap goes down his, but when he turns to depart, Soap grabs his wrist and guides Simon with him. 
They arrive at Soap’s private room. The Scot jumbles his keys, nearly dropping them on the ground, and struggles to get them into the keyhole. Simon thinks to point out that the process would probably be easier if Soap just let go of his wrist, but call him weak because that touch is more intimate than any stitch Soap has put in his body. 
Finally, the lock turns, Soap pushes open the door, swiftly kicks it closed, and the two of them stand in the soft glow of the lamp on the bedside table. 
He’s been in Soap’s room plenty of times before, but this, this moment is different. A delicate thing Simon could almost hold in his hand, and he hopes that door never opens again. Hopes that they can stand here away from the responsibilities and the enemy bullets and bask in the warmth of this thing between them. This thing that Simon prays to a God he doesn’t believe in that he’s no longer imagining and is ready to stop ignoring. Since the pub he’s felt exposed, as if every emotion he’s tried to hide away for the better part of a year is now written across his skin for a pair of azure eyes to read. As he spies the rapid rise and fall of Soap’s chest, he thinks he’s not the only one.
Words sit on his tongue, but just before they tumble from his lips, he pulls them back. He’s pictured this moment 1000 different times and 100 different ways. None of it practiced. He has to get this right. He takes a breath. He has to figure out a way to tell Soap that if he wants to take the plunge, Simon is on the ledge with him, but he also wants to leave the door open so that if he’s misread everything, nothing needs to change between the two of them. The jumper is beginning to cling to his back.
But it’s Soap who speaks first. “I got ye somethin.” 
“Ya got me somethin’?” Simon repeats back.
“Aye. It’s - one second.” Soap steps around him and rifles through his jacket. When he straightens, a dark rectangle is in his hands. He holds it out to Simon who has lost all function of his arms and stares at the object. 
“What is it?” 
“A present.” 
“A present?” 
“Holy ‘ell, Simon. Yes! A present! Ye know what a present is, aye?” 
Simon is only more confused by the answer. Soap shoves the rectangle into his chest, and Simon’s brain catches up fast enough to wrap his hands around the object that he now realizes is a thick, wooden box. 
“For me?” Seems his brain hasn’t moved past two word sentences though. 
Soap rolls his eyes and his hands plant his hips. “Yes, it’s for you. It’s what I was talkin’ to Heather about.” 
“Heather?” Christ, Simon needs his brain to wake up. 
“Aye, Heather. The lass at the pub. She helped me get this.” 
“So, ya weren’t -” Simon feels his ears burn. “Ya weren’t…flirting?” 
Soap’s eyes widen for half a second, and then he tries to hide a startled chuckle with a cough as he looks down. Simon’s pretty sure he hears “Fuckin bampot” mixed in there. When Soap looks back up, he seems shy, almost embarrassed, cheeks back to that pink that’s starting to drive Simon wild. “No, Lt. Heather gets handsy after some pints, but I wasn’t flirtin’ with her.” Azure blue locks him in place. “I had someone else in mind for that.” 
Bloody hell. Simon’s first instinct is to retreat. Flirting wasn’t wholly a new thing between them. They’d lost comms privileges on more than a few missions with Price - Gaz never had the power to pull the plug though he always made his grievances known - but it was all coy, innocent, dangling off the edge of friendly banter. None of it was ever so brazen, so laid out in the open. But here was Soap, taking the first step, leaving a small part of himself bare, waiting to see what Simon would do with it. 
“You didn’t have to,” Simon says, holding up the box.
“I wanted to.” It sounds so simple coming from those lips. 
Simon’s jacket joins Soap’s, and he holds the box in both hands. What he mistook for black is actually a deep, rich mahogany polished by an expert hand. The box easily lays in his palms, and he’s acutely aware of Soap watching him as he lifts the lid. Simon’s breath catches.
The inside is lined by a black silk, and nestled in the middle lies the most beautiful knife he has ever seen. He can tell that the blade is of the best steel, a straight spine across the top meets a point sharp enough to tear through his toughest gloves. He runs his thumb along the edge to the heel and revels at the ease with which it knicks his skin. 
Where the blade is all wicked grace, the handle is a work of art. Stunning black onyx catches the light as Simon delicately lifts it from the box. At first glance, it’s smooth, but when he rubs the stone with his thumb, he catches other carvings. He moves to the bedside table, and when he holds it under the lamplight, Simon nearly drops the knife. 
Sapphire blue and rich hazel streak through the black stone, tangling together perfectly. Simon turns the handle. On one side is a blue bar of soap. It matches a doodle Simon has seen on scraps of paper left in briefing rooms and napkins in the mess and on the corners of his reports when a certain sergeant comes to visit. He flips it, and on the other side is a hazel ghost. Another doodle Simon has spied on the pages of a journal kept close to that same sergeant’s heart.  
“Do ye like it?” Soap shifts on his feet. He’s rubbing the back of his neck again, and Simon fights back a laugh. 
The absurdity of it all, that Soap could be nervous right now. 
No. Not Soap. Not anymore. 
Johnny. His Johnny. He’s always been his, from the tarmac to now as Simon stares, gobsmacked, at this immortalization of them in stone. At this declaration of every intention and feeling and dream Simon’s been too afraid of. Johnny’s blue streaking through the darkness, dancing perfectly with Simon’s hazel. Ghost and Soap always side by side. He decides right then that he’s done tucking the feelings away in that gilded chest. He’s done with moments that live only in his fantasies. He’s done pretending he’s ok with it being just Ghost and Soap forever and that he hasn’t craved Simon and Johnny. 
So yes, it is absolutely absurd  that Johnny could be nervous right now.
“Heather’s da used tae be in tha service ‘nd makes these custom now. I ken you’re picky about the blades. Think I drove ‘er up the wall goin’ back ‘nd forth makin’ sure it was the best -” Johnny is rambling, and he’s looking everywhere except at Simon. If he was, he would have seen Simon reverently place the knife back in the box. He would’ve seen Simon rip the medical mask off of his face, and he would’ve seen Simon eat the space between them in two strides. If he was, he would’ve been ready when Simon cupped his face, and crashed their lips together. 
Simon has no idea what he’s doing. He doesn’t know how to do soft and gentle. He doesn’t know how to exist in a space where there’s acknowledged interest that’s so much heavier than a tumble in a bed. He doesn’t know how Johnny MacTavish, full of joy and thunder and blazing glory, found his way into Simon’s endless darkness. But Johnny kisses him back and grips his jumper, and Simon’s heart is no longer his own. 
“Hi,” Johnny says once they catch their breath, and Simon can feel the smile against his lips. 
“Johnny,” Simon mumbles, and it sounds like a prayer. He pulls Johnny closer and feels the strong muscles of his arms circle around Simon’s waist. He cradles Johnny’s face, thumb softly rubbing against the stubble on his cheek, and he leans in again. This, Simon thinks, is his own personal version of heaven. 
They’re pressed together now, chest to chest, and Simon is certain he’d be fine dying right here. 
“How long?” Johnny asks, and he leans into the palm of Simon’s hand. 
“Fishin’ for compliments, Sergeant? B’neath you.” There’s a swift slap on his shoulder. Simon nuzzles into the crook of Johnny’s neck to hide his smile.
“Awa’ an bile yer heid.” There’s no bite in the words. “How long?” 
“Las Almas,” Simon admits against his skin. “The way you looked at the rig when the missile ‘it. I couldn’t look away from you. Still haven’t been able to.” He pulls back just enough to rest their foreheads together. “And when I saw Graves bullet ‘it…well, not even Price would’ve been able to keep me from huntin’ him down.” 
“Hells bells, Simon. That was over a year ago!” 
Simon ignores the outburst and kisses a rough, uneven scar barely hidden within the sergeant’s hairline. Johnny’s newest, only a couple weeks old “But then Makarov -” It takes a moment to fight past the lump in his throat. The arms around his waist tighten.
“In the hospital, I promised meself - “ Johnny turns his face into Simon’s neck, “that if I made it out, if I got one more shot, I was done runnin’ from ye.” He pulls back, freeing one hand and brings it up to cup Simon’s cheek. “While I lay in that bloody bed, all I could think was, ‘Ye didn’t get tae tell him. Ye didn’t get tae tell him, and now he’ll never know.’ So let me tell ye now.” Johnny cups beneath Simon’s jaw, forcing him to meet his gaze. “I love ye, Simon Riley. In this life and the next, I will always love ye. God help any sorry soul that ever tries to take ye from me, because I will burn this world tae tha ground until I find ye. I don’t know how long this life is willin’ to give us, but I’ll take whatever it’s generous with as long as it’s with ye.” 
And well, Simon isn’t quite sure what to do with that. 
There’s a jumble of emotions rattling around in his heart threatening to spill into his gut if he thinks too hard about it. He’s aware that Johnny is staring at him, adoration and patience swimming in stormy blue, and his hand is softly carding through the curls at Simon’s nape. He remembers Johnny back on that tarmac - nearly two years ago now - brash and cocky and willing, and wonders what would have happened if he’d known how his fate was written, how his own heart was on the line. If he had known on that first mission what that annoying sergeant would come to mean to him, what would he have done? Would he have kept Johnny at arm’s length, protecting him from the jagged mess that is Simon’s darkness? Standing there, basking in the glow that is his Johnny, he doesn’t think so. He doesn’t think he could have. 
Simon threads a hand in the back of Johnny’s mohawk - it’s beginning to flirt with deregulation - and snakes the other around his waist. “Take the good moments,” he mutters in the space between them. 
“Aye,” Soap says, smile bright in the lowlight. “Take the good moments.” 
So, they spend the evening trading lazy kisses and honeyed words. At some point, boots are forgotten and jumpers join a pile in the corner. They tumble into bed, legs tangled, and even as sleep takes them, not an inch of space is allowed. Johnny’s breaths fan across Simon’s chest, deep, content. Sleep is pulling at Simon’s lashes, but he fights it a little longer. In his last moment of consciousness, he grazes a finger along Johnny’s hairline, catching on the rough scar, and he thinks the memoir needs a title change: 
Storm Blue Eyes and A Scottish Brogue: Reasons Simon Riley Came Back to Life. 
And in the morning, there’s a folder waiting on Price’s desk. He sips his coffee, picks it up, and smiles at the familiar weight. When he flips it open, there’s simply a location: Glasgow. 
“Merry Christmas, Simon,” Price says and watches a jeep pull out of the base.
Johnny is singing Mariah at the top of his lungs, and Simon doesn’t remember the last time he was this content. The mask is forgotten on the desk in his room, and a new knife is tucked by his side. They turn onto the highway, Glasgow waiting, and Soap lays his hand out between them. 
Simon can feel it, the wispy end of a filament stretching between them. The past collisions and the future moments. He can see it, that future laying on the other side. That future full of lazy kisses and even lazier mornings. Of days together, never questioning if the other walks through the door. Of Christmases in Scotland and maybe a cabin one day, too. For now, they have to make due with stitches in safehouses and easy touches in helis. Stolen kisses in private rooms and hidden words between the commands. 
For now, he reaches over and takes Johnny’s hand.
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wangxianficfinder · 9 months ago
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Fic Finder
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1. Hey! I am looking for a fic that's about WWX and LWJ being happily married, happily adopting children, and I think JC wants to reconcile? The children all have "Si" as the first character of their name, because Lan Elders questioned them being LSZ's siblings? Or something? I think LSZ arranged the children to "suddenly" appear in front of his parents too and they are oblivious but JC finds out and is surprised how sly LSZ is? They have a house in the outskirts of Cloud Recesses I think. Thank you so much!
FOUND? ❤️ Attempting the Impossible by Ariaste (T, 36k, WangXian, JC & WWX,  Post-Canon, Yunmeng Bros Reconciliation, Adoption, Family Fluff, Kid fic, Family drama, Fluff)
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2. turning to you for this person's hour of need
i swear ive read this fic before also but i cant remember,,,, theres more info in the comments as well about how it Might be librarian/(equally scholar) lwj & they might be post grad. also he might be quoting mary oliver (but they speculate it theyre mixing fics) @revellingfate
FOUND! Lans Never Kiss and Tell by FeelsForBreakfast (E, 30k, wangxian, Modern, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Humor, LWJ FUCKS, wwx and lwj are both like ‘I could never be the one for him :(’, and all their friends are like ‘you freaks deserve each other’, Mutual Pining, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, modern diaspora au) they said they found it in the twitter thread 😊
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3. hi! looking for a fic i read at some point that had a scene (i think towards the end?) where someone lets slip something about LSZ's identity in front of JC (maybe WWX is being affectionate? or Sizhui says something to him or LWJ?) and for a second they all freeze because what if JC hates him for having been born a Wen, but instead JC's reaction is something along the lines of "oh thank god it IS you" + checking that that's what they meant and he really *was* Wen Yuan bc JC had looked during and after the siege but couldn't find a trace of him and had hoped all these years that LWJ's mystery kid was secretly Wen Yuan but never dared ask in case he wasn't, and so finding out it really was him all along is a huge relief.
thank you!! @aroace-lukeskywalker
NOT FOUND! 江山如有待 | It Seems the Hills and Rivers Have Been Waiting by ScarlettStorm (E, 295k, OFC/JC, Slow Burn, Post-Canon, (mostly), Transfem Character, WQ Lives, Fighting as Flirting, Fighting as Foreplay, qs also lives, demisexual JC, sex disaster jc, Femdom, switch rights, Eventual Smut)
FOUND! Build Your Home (on a landslide) by John_lzhc (T, 55k, LSZ & WWX, JC & WWX, WangXian, LSZ & LJY, Post-Canon, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family Feels, Families of Choice, PTSD, Flashbacks, Grief/Mourning, best boy LSZ, Hopeful Ending, canon typical references to genocide, JC & WWX reconciliation, Family Dynamics, Fluff and Angst, Trans Male Character, Trans WWX, Alcohol, Implied/Referenced Alcohol, Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied Pregnancy, Implied Miscarrage, Happier Than It Sounds, WWX is the best teacher, WangXian forshadowed, Gratuitous use of the word "fuck", Found Family, Romance, Getting Together, Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn, Panic Attacks, Anxiety, Dissociation, Mental Breakdown, Teaching, LWJ being horny on main, Menstruation, grief and mourning, Marriage Negotiations, moderate shenanigans, asexual LJY, LJY third generation gremlin, soft italicised 'oh' moment) There's an encounter like this with JC near the end of the 3rd part.
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4. hello. i was trying to find this fic but now am unable to but it's modern au where wwx tells lwj that if they aren't married by 30, they will marey each other but just as they start hitting 30 wwx starts dating someone (i don't remember if it's mianmian or someone else).
FOUND? By 30 by x_los (T, wangxian, Modern, Accidental Marriage, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Friends to Lovers, Didn't Know They Were Dating, Mutual Pining, Fuck Trees)
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5. Ugh I'm sorry but I have a really vague one >.< I remember that Wwx is staying with Lwj post (cql?) canon and they are kind of together but haven't slept together yet. It goes on for a while and one thing I remember is that when they do finally do it it's a hot night and a summer storm is happening. Thanks! @yilingweiclan
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6. hii!! i need help finding this fic where wei ying finds or adopts (?) a bunny and then throughout the story he names the bunny/bunnies (?) pun names related to pop culture. it was a modern au and at this point of the story wangxian is already in a relationship(?)
thats all i remember from this fic. thank u in advance for ur hardwork <3
FOUND! Postcards from the Horizon by The Feels Whale (miscellea) (T, 7k, wangxian, JYL/JZX, JC/WQ, WIP, Epilogues, yunmeng bros reconciliation, rabbit acquisition)
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7. hello, pls i am rooting for this
Can anyone find a fic abt HuaLian being WWX parents, and it is Canon divergence? I feel like I ever read it, but in the same time i dont know 😭😭😭
FOUND? 🔒 a warm coal in the hearth of our hearts by eccentrick (T, 46k, XL & WWX, HC & WWX, SQX & WWX, hualian, Found Family, fluff with plot, Fluff and Angst, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Disabled Character, Ableism, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, WWX Isn't Adopted by the Jiāngs, slow burn found family, Gender Stuff brought to you by SQX, HuaLian Adopt WWX, Married HuaLian, Post-Canon TGCF, Kid Fic, TGCF Spoilers) I'm sure there are so many, but this is the one I thought of first. Wwx living on the streets and finding shelter in an abandoned temple. Will make you feel a lot of big feelings.
FOUND? Hua Xianle by Tiffany_Guinne (Not rated, 249k, hualian, wangxian, TGCF, Not Jiāng Family Friendly, Madam Lan Lives, Not JFM & YZY Friendly, Bad Parent JFM, Bad Parent YZY, overprotective hualian as parents, WWX is good at feelings, WWX knows self preservation, and self love, WWX NHS and JZX are friends, Not JC Friendly, No Golden Core Transfer, Canon Divergence, Ghosts and Gods are wrapped around WWX's fingers, LWi is a Panicked Gay, WWX is kinda sickly, WWX is not named Wuxian, HuaLian Adopt WWX, WWX has selective mutism, PM is the uncle that teaches you how to flirt, Grandfather JW, MNQ is the grandmother then?, SQX is the aunt/uncle that spoils WWX, all of them spoils him actually, They have a competition on who will be the fave uncle or aunt, and this is a story about how A-Ying disses HC on a daily basis just to make fun of him, he loves his adie though, no HC is harmed in the creation of this story, i can't say the same for the Jiang though, Creepy JFM, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, HUA YING DOES NOT GET RAPED!, Can't say the same for some unwanted...people, Don't like, Don't read, This starts of mild and fluffy though, WIP)
FOUND? let this soul be your whisper by merthurlin (T, 28k, hualian, wangxian, post TGCF canon, post first siege of burial mounds, canonical character death, canon divergence, found family) has Xie Lian take in Wei Wuxian for three years before his 3rd ascension.'has Xie Lian take in Wei Wuxian for three years before his 3rd ascension.
FOUND? Narrative of Strength by erosophic (T, 67k, hualian, wangxian, WWX & XL, WWX & HC, FX & MQ & XL, JC & WWX, FengQing, Canon Divergence, HuaLian Adopt WWX, Found Family, Fluff and Angst, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, XL takes WWX as a disciple, Protective XL, Protective HC, Adoption, Kidnapping, Attempted Kidnapping, QR being QR, Serious Injuries, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon-Typical Violence)
If all else fails, searching the Hualian adopt wwx tag on ap3 might get you something
~*~
8. Hi! I am looking for a fic where everyone except Wei Ying is a shifter. However, during the attack on Lotus Pier, Wei Ying shifts into a Phoenix/Feng Huang, a clan that was destroyed years ago. He has powers to heal others and so Jiang Fengmian orders everyone in Lotus Pier to keep it a secret. He was also pregnant and gave birth to A-Yuan. Any leads will be much appreciated! Thank you in advance😊 @lilaccamellia
FOUND? Changes by Duochanfan (Not Rated, 80k, WIP, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Drama, Mpreg, Shapeshifters AU, Sunshot Campaign, Baby LSZ, Angst with a Happy Ending, JGS is a warning unto himself, Past Miscarriage, Good YZY, injuries, Death of people, Not anyone we like)
~*~
9. For the next FF, I'm looking for 2 fics: (A) burial mounds arc, yiling Wei sect fic where they advertised cultivators could come perform the burial rites of their sects to lay to rest their dead from the resentful masses in the burial mounds. I think this made them a legit sect. (B) I'm not sure why but LWJ married WY, possibly to protect him? WY was severely injured by zidian and he was bedridden while LWJ was sent to the indoctrination. The one scene I recall is WY made a talisman that exploded a Wen attacker's head.
9A)
I've read 9A! Can't find it now, but perhaps additional info will help: there's a rouge cultivator hanging around the burial mounds, who turns out to be Madame Lan, and I think Lan Qiren recognizes her while on a visit to lay to rest Lan ghosts? Later he brings over LWJ and LXC for a reunion.
FOUND? Claiming Life from Death by MarbleGlove (E, 24k, WWX & WQ, wangxian, Golden Core cultivation and theory, Canon Divergence, the wen remnants survive, the burial mounds settlement survives, Pining WWX, Rumors, lying is forbidden but what is truth, Past Rape/Non-con, LQR is trying his best, Porn With Plot, Light Bondage, missing core reveal, YLLZ WWX)
9B)
FOUND! 🧡 To have and to hold by Moominmammashandbag (M, 78k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Major character injury, CQL verse, Happy Ending) the head exploding is in ch 13
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10. hellooo! i just opened my x app (twitter) and found a short art/comic story where child!wangji suddenly became a bunny and then found that he's at the back of the jingshi (there are other bunnies) then child!wuxian came and saw bunji. i think thats the part 1/5(?). when im about to read the thread, its all gone. im been scrolling thru my feed but i cant find it. can u guys help me find it? thank you so much in advance!
FOUND! twitter thread i think is this!
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11. Hey,
Can you help me find a fic. I don't really remember much except that the yiling city (or burial mounds ) was like well- developed and a flourishing place. Hope you can find the fic @mayavsworld
FOUND? 💖🔒 love, in fire and blood by cicer (E, 360k, wangxian, Canon Divergence, YLLZ WWX, Arranged Marriage, political scheming, Gratuitous Domesticity, Mutual Pining, EXTREME SLOWBURN, the inherent eroticism of the forehead ribbon, The Mortifying Ordeal of Being Known, neither wwx nor lwj want to be Perceived, but sorry kids! it’s gonna happen!, rated E but the the NSFW stuff doesn’t begin until chapter 19!, bottom LWJ in chapter 20 and 27) Has a well developed community in the burial mounds?
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12. Hi! Wishing the mods to have a wonderful day
I need help finding a fic, could you help pls?
It was a Wangxian one shot that took place in modern settings, specifically it was about wangxian having (adopting?) a baby during quarantine and not telling their family & friends until they are invited to a party/reunion and they just… bring the baby, surprise!
I WAS 90% sure it was called “Quarantine baby” but I can’t for the light of me find it. At this point I just want to know if it was deleted or I’m misremembering something. Anyway thanks for all your work! @neko-in-gotham
FOUND! What is on my kitchen table? by tigerlilly3224 (G, 3k, wangxian, LXC/NMJ, Modern, A/B/O, Family Fluff, Family Feels, Cute, Alpha LWJ, Omega WWX, Alpha JC, Alpha LXC, Alpha NMJ, Alpha LQR, Post Mpreg, Pandemics, Family Bonding, Siblings JC & WWX, Protective LWJ, Parents WangXian, Soft WangXian, Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Fluff and Humor, LJY Being LJY)
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13. I've read this fanfic around 2021 and I forgot the title. I barely remember the details about it but I know it's good and I want to read it again, and it was an incomplete work way back so I'm wondering if it's completed already. It's about LWJ and WWX (participating?) in this kind of survival in the (purgatory?) and like they faced challenges under that and striving to survive until the very end to find their way out... really forgot the complete details but I swear it was good
NOT FOUND and from our own/live to ourselves by betweentheheavesofstorm (M, 105k, wangxian, Modern, Fantasy, Reality TV, Arctic Survival, Blood Magic, Blood and Gore, Getting Together, Pining, Angst with a Happy Ending, Self-Harm, Bloodletting, Hurt/Comfort, Slow Burn, Animal Death, Hunting, Mild Sexual Content)
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14. Hi, I hope all is well with you.
I'm looking for 2 fanfics.
A - is wangxian, where lwj convinces wwx to return with him to gusu and remove his resentful energy and in return he will give a piece of land near the Cloud Recesses to the Wen Remnantslive in. but what lwj doesn't know is that resentful energy is the only thing keeping wwx alive. when trying to remove it he almost kills wwx and if wen qin hadn't been there it was very likely that he would have really died. Upon accepting LWJ's proposal, WWX knew he was going to die and asked LWJ to be the one to remove the resentful energy. has a happy ending.
B - lwj is a courtesan in a brothel near the tombs and wwx goes there for lwj's music to calm the resentful energy within him. when lwj calms the energy wwx returns to seem human. it's a fic where the monsters from the tombs come out to fight the wens and wwx is the patriarch of these monsters from what I remember.
thanks. @lilianeheart
14A)
FOUND? decay by antebunny  (G, 16k, wangxian, Canon Divergence, Angst, Misunderstandings, Miscommunication, big sister WQ just wants her stupid little brother WWX to take care of himself, warnings for WWX's typical level of self-care, Fix-It, Angst with a Happy Ending, the fluffiest ending, Hurt/Comfort, Podfic Available)
14B)
FOUND? start by pulling him out of the fire by tidemakers (T, 15k, wangxian, Creatures & Monsters, Canon-Typical Violence, Body Horror, Mild Gore, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, POV LWJ, YLLZ WWX, Identity Porn, Identity Reveal, Hurt WWX)
~*~
15. What I remember is toward the end of a time travel story after defeating wen ruohan, wei wuxian is confronted by mend yap who was sent back by accident. Thing was that wei wuxian wasn’t actually one of the people sent back he was just told about it and he has to sit and stall while meng yao tries to turn him against I think lan xichen. I think it ends up with wei wuxian getting injured and knocked out after meng yao is stopped (still in wrh’s throne room)
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16. Hello There! Hope you are doing good!! I read this fic a long ago Idk where i found it. In which WWX unintentionally adopts a dog and as we know WWX and His naming skills. he accidently named the puppy "Hey". There was some scenes with JL too about how to train the dog. It was post canon I think. please help me find this fic. thank you!!! @vbhardwaj-reads
FOUND? Imprints by Lisa_Telramor (G, 47k, wangxian, accidental puppy adoption, Humor, Panic Attacks, phobia recovery, Post-Canon, JC & WWX Reconciliation, Poor Life Choices, because WWX has trouble putting his mental health first, Self-Acceptance, don't face your phobias the wei WWX does it, that would probably make the trauma worse, jumping through mental hoops to combat phobias, Developing Relationship, fluff with a side of anxiety lol, WWX adopts a puppy, Dogs)
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17. Hello!
I am desperatly looking for a fic about Jiang Cheng and Nie Huisang. I literally cannot find it anywhere. It was post canon mostly, they were hooking up or sth and Huisang was dealing with resentful energy in his region and being chief cultivator. at some point Jiang Cheng broke it off, they only saw each other in passing on conferences and then huisang had qi deviation. wangxian was there trying to stop it but ultimately jiang cheng sort of brought him back. if you know this fanfic or anyone who i can ask i'll owe you my life @pandemonium39
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18. Lost fic!! (Also tw for mention of SA)
It was a modern au, wei ying ran away as a teenager and lz bumps into him at a market, WY is with the wens and also has a close relationship with xue yang (they are kinda ex's) and then it turns out the JFM had attempted to assault WY as a teem and madame yu blamed WY, and JC and JYL and LZ are all in a group chat where they talk about WY and how much they miss him
FOUND? 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, Hurt/Comfort, Panic Attacks, past wwx/jfm, Past Rape/Non-con, Past Abuse, Rape Recovery, transphobic violence, Victim Blaming, Past wei Wuxian/others, allusions to past self-harm)
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19. Hiiiiiii!! I was looking for fic where I think Madam Yu kills Wei Ying and then Lan Wangji finds his soul? And I think somehow the Lan convinces Wei Ying to confess about what Madam Yu did to the Jiang siblings. And Wei Ying was sure that it won't go well but confessed anyway and Jiang Cheng didn't believe him. That's all I can remember.
And Thank you so much for all your work!! @yilinglaobunny
FOUND? I'd give anything to hear you say it one more time by Unicornelia96 (T, 54k, wangxian, Major Character Death, Angst with a Happy Ending, No Sunshot Campaign, Angst, Reincarnation, Character Death, Sad LWJ, LWJ Needs a Hug, Suicidal Thoughts, POV LWJ, POV Multiple, but mostly LWJ)
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20. Hello! I wanted to ask about this one fic where I think the entire Lan clan traveled back in time or at least had an idea of future events and so, during the Cloud Recesses Arc, they were super kind to Wei Wuxian cause they knew that Lan Wangji was going to be marrying him at some point. Lan Wangji was horknee gripping all the way when Wei Ying and him sparred and Lan Qiren was exasperated while Jiang Cheng was confused throughout the whole ordeal.
FOUND? 🔒💖 Flawed and Free by Vrishchika (E, 18k, wangxian, major character death, time travel fix-it, dark gusu lan, dark LWJ, dark LXC, not JC friendly, temporary character death, angst, hurt/comfort, WIP)
FOUND? Cluster of Clouds by Nika_Raven_Celeste (T, 20k, wangxian, LQR & WWX, JC & WWX, time travel, post-canon lans time travel, cloud recesses study era, confused WWX, soft LQR, soft LWJ, not JC friendly, not YZY friendly, genius WWX, horny LWJ, oblivious WWX, WIP)
~*~
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mrfancyfoot · 18 days ago
Text
Plots & Prosody: Prompts
Raphael x Evie (f!OC)
.
- Bite of Cold -
"Just because Raphael must dispose of the many enemies standing between him and his rule of the Hells doesn’t mean he needs to be wasteful.
Or: Raphael presents Evie with some nice, new hides of his enemies furs to fight off the chill of winter that has come to Baldur’s Gate."
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Prompt: Warming the Chill
Happy Solstice! I’ve been ill (again) and wanted to write something warm and seasonal between some other stuff.  This installment swings kinda wildly from dark power fantasy to cute fluff to dark/very suggestive romance. :)
.
Rating: M / NSFW
Word Count: ~2k
Timeline: Plots & Prosody, Part II - Canon
Tags: POV Raphael; Evie (She/Her Pronouns Used; Has Fox Features); Hellhounds; Dark Romance; Fluff; Indulgent Schmoop; Date Night; Story Time; ❄️ Seasonal Gift Giving 🎁; Raphael’s Theatrics; Raphael Has a Praise Kink if You Look Close; Raphael's Thinly Disguised Size Kink; Devil is Smitten; Only Soft For Her; Devil Courtship
Warnings: Violence & Gore (Skinning an Animal); Murder; Possessive Raphael; Voyeurism; Highly Suggestive Sexual Content (Referenced PiV and Oral - No Sex "On Screen," but Raphael's gratuitous in his language)
Main Fic (Rated E/Varied): AO3 + Tumblr | Master List (contains related prompts)
[Quick Context: After being isekai'd by the nautiloid, Evie spends most of Plots & Prosody Part I (Game Events) “befriending the devil,” yet denying him her soul.  Once things settle after game events, Evie goes about her new life kick-starting her business and re-inventing modern-day things. As somewhat of a demi-ro cinnamon bun, she remains oblivious to Raphael's attempts at courting her and chalks many of his more questionable behaviors up to cultural differences.]
Part of my devil courtship series.
❤️ Thanks for reading! :3 ❤️
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It wasn’t often that he fouled his own claws with the mind-numbing task of dispatching pitiful devils but a pair in particular had caught his eye as they skulked about through the shadows, searching for weaknesses and information among his forces to take back to their master.
Winter was blanketing the City of Baldur’s Gate and through the strife and ruinnous magics, a brutal cold had descended upon it.  He recalled the frequent shivers and complaints of the chill from his little fox. Until it was safe to do so with Avernus fully under his reign, he could not move her more permanently into the heat of his home and embrace.
But…
Being a provider of warmth in another manner was the next best option as he continued to woo her.
“You should feel honored.  Your pathetic hide shall now grace another - a gift for the future Archduchess!”
Snapping jaws and sharp claws were no match for him.
He admired the dense, rippling fur of the hellhound within his grip, its toothy maw wide and long tongue lolling about in a manner belying more life than its owner.  Its brethren lie broken and motionless at his feet.
With a surgically careful claw, he sliced and rent the hides from pungent, bloody flesh, uncaring of what became of the mass of slaughtered carcasses dropped to the dirt.  Thrilling, though, it may have been, to skin them alive and shrieking, he decided against chancing anything less than perfect for his gift through their struggles.  Raphael now thought only of how best he should present them to her.
The only challenge due him in this battle had been in avoiding unduly marring the hounds as he struck them down.  A successful endeavor for the hunter!
He had his spoils delivered to a skilled furrier.  After three days' time, he paid them a visit to inspect and collect the final products.
What awaited him were two glossy, soft pelts of midnight black fashioned into a pair of blankets and a scarf that retained their hellish heat and would repel even the harshest of winter chills.
He ran a hand over the finished furs.
Magnificent.
.
.
Wishing to bypass the tedium of being made to wait in her receiving room by her housekeeper, yet still invoke that mystique of a courtly suitor, he arrived, instead, just beyond her balcony doors.  With the curtains drawn open, he was able to silently spy inside her bedroom.
Evie was seated at her vanity readying herself with her back to him.  For their evening out, she had donned a conservative, green, velvet dress and blackened, sheer stockings.  The sash around her slender waist was bowed above the dense fur of her tail, the tip of which swayed just above the floor.  Her fingers worked quickly to thread strands of curling auburn hair into a braid, pinning it behind her ear with a matching bow.  
She did like her pretty collection of hair bows and clips and combs.  
They lent to the air of flirtatiously chaste innocence that he knew merely guised the seductive vixen beneath.  He would look forward to peeling away the layers like gift wrap to reveal the pale flesh beneath later.
Now, as practiced…
He rapped sharply on the glass causing her to whip around in surprise.  The fox lept from her stool and rounded her bed, unlocking the bolt and twisting one of the knobs to push open the door.
She looked up at him with a bright smile and waggle of her tail.  “Hi, there!  Come in, come in.”
“Good evening, my dear,” he returned as he took the door from her and closed out the chill behind himself as he entered her room.  
“A bit early today, yeah?” she teased as she returned to her vanity and prised open a small tin.  “I was just finishing up, though.”  Her finger rubbed a balm into her lips.
A quiet sound directed his attention to an odd contraption sat upon her bedside table that hadn’t been there when he visited the prior tenday.  A large glass container was filled with gently gurgling water and misting it into the room at intervals.  “A new apparatus of yours?”
“A humidifier!” she exclaimed with pride.  “My skin’s gotten so dry with the cold, and I picked up a bit of a morning cough from the dry night air.  It’s helped quite a bit!  Keeps the plants happy, too.  Since I don’t have a giant pool in my bedroom and all.”
He smiled at the ribbing but frowned as another thought occurred to him.  Avernus was inhospitably dry and his pool of restoration served multiple purposes to create comfort within his home, but her bedroom provided there was isolated from it.  His hospitality could not be found wanting by his intended.
“It is a clever thing.  Next you visit my House, let us devise a solution for your quarters.”  Though he could merely provide himself, he did love listening to the unique ways her mind worked.  And allowing her to aid in such decisions bonded her closer to all that would soon be hers.
“It is pretty dry there, too.  I can just make another,” she shrugged.
“I believe we can do better for a more permanent fixture.”  He regathered himself and straightened.  “But that is a distraction for another time - I did arrive early for a reason.”
“Oh?”  Evie canted her head, curiosity piqued.
With a grin, Raphael strode to stand in front of her fireplace, closing her curtains with a snap to set the desired atmosphere.
He heard her quiet gasp, “Story time!”  She picked up her vanity stool and moved it closer to watch raptly.
“As the Avernal sun cast shadows about the desolate land, sneaking from between the depths of ruddy mountain and cliffside, I did spy a pair that moved,” he began his captivating tale.  “Hellhounds!  Intelligence gatherers working fleet on their feet for Archdevil Zariel.  Monstrous canid devils with coats of blackest pitch and glowing maws that spit and drool fire.”  The fire behind him sparked forth embers with his words and she jumped, her eyes wide.
“I, of course, could not allow such beasts to cross the line of battle and weasel their way around my forces!  Away, I lured them, to an outlying crag, whereupon I descended in ambush from the very shadows through which they moved.”  He dimmed the fire and drew forth a clutch of flaming embers into his fist held up in mimicry of one of the hounds’ flaming mouths.
“Though they howled and thrashed their claws about, neither was any match for my might.  But!  As I fought, I took the utmost care to preserve them whole.”  He dropped the embers from his hand and they fell glowing to the floor as they extinguished.  “My enemies were soon crumpled - dead at my feet with nary a scratch upon them thanks to my diligence.”  Arms spread wide, he dipped into a brief bow to signify the end of his short performance and heard her begin to clap.  He then held a finger aloft to pose his question that halted her applause, “And whyever should I have bothered to expend such effort, you may ask?”
He approached Evie, falling to one knee as he brought forth one of the furs with a flourish.  Her lips parted in shock as he draped it about her shoulders.
Dainty hands rose to clutch and pet along the fur in wonder.
“For you, my dear, to chase away the bite of the harsh winter chill that has befallen this city.”
She looked from him to it, appearing unsure.  “For me?  This is…them?”  Torn on the gift?
Smirking at her form swallowed within the dark fur, he replied, “It is, indeed!  Hellhound hides retain their magical properties to produce heat.”  His hand rose again and the rest appeared neatly folded upon her bed.
“Better than letting them go to waste, I suppose,” Evie reasoned to herself as she eyed them, a means to justify acceptance of the gift.  Silly woman, were animals not routinely hunted for their furs and hides and any other parts deemed of use?  These curs should be honored to be repurposed thusly! She brought the fur to her nose and inhaled contentedly.  “It smells like you.”
Inwardly, he thrilled at her obvious approval.
With the fur cloaked around herself, she stood and walked to the bed.  Standing in front of the other furs, Raphael watched as she pitched forward and planted her face into them.  “So warm!” she crooned happily as she rubbed her cheeks against the furs.  “We should go before I fall asleep like this,” Evie warned.
With reluctance, she stood and shook her head.  Pivoting on her heel, she marched to him and threw her arms wide.
Though he was becoming used to her affectionate mannerisms, her sudden embrace was still unexpected.  But not unwelcome.
“Thank-you for the gift and thinking of me, Raphael,” she said into his chest.
“But seriously, we need to go before I doze off.”
He pushed the pelt down from her head. “Mm, should you look closer, there is a scarf atop that pile, so you may still enjoy it when we step out.”
“A scarf!”  Evie pulled away and bounded back to her bed to properly inspect the others.  She unfurled the hound fur from herself and laid it out on the bed.  Picking up the scarf, it was quickly wound around her neck.  “You thought of everything!”
Brimming over with fiery pride and ego, his eyes followed her as she flitted about her room adding rings to her fingers, a bracelet to her wrist, grabbing this and that to shove into her purse - all the while continuing to be very vocal with her praise.  If they did not soon depart, there would be another reason they would not be leaving this room.
.
.
Raphael tipped his head back and closed his eyes, enjoying the crackle of the fire and the quiet of a city blanketed by snow.
Beneath the warmth of pillowy covers and new furs, the softness of her bared body pressed against his.  He yet felt the phantom touches of her lips upon his neck and the scrape of her claws across his scalp; heard the echoes of her whimpers and cries; tasted her essence on his tongue.
Impatient was he for her to rouse once more.  His hunger and thirst for her had not yet been sated.
This had been an eventful night of dining, music, and coaxing the fox into the lively steps of a dance.  How he had revelled in the surreptitious glances of envy, lustful stares, and covetous glowers that his date drew.  He commanded her attentions; those bright, glittering eyes ever upon him.  Did she know the desires and appetites she stirred within others?  That every giddy shake of her tail, twirl of her skirts, and murmured moan of delight around the fork passing her lips hardened another member, wetted another sheath?
He could hardly restrain himself to wait until they had returned to this room to lay his claim to her body.
Evie slept soundly at his side, ignorant to the growing number that approached him for her favor, for her access - to use and abuse.  Ah, the wicked and craven fantasies that deluged their tiny minds!
His fingers slid absently through the mussed curls of her hair as he mused personally acting on some of the inspiration gleaned.
They would never know the aroused blush of her heaving bosom, the prick of her fangs, nor the pulsing squeeze of her quim. It was his name she called as she writhed impaled.  It was his seed that now painted the walls of her sacred vault and soaked the sheets beneath them.  None but he would know her softness.
For he was a possessive devil.
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tadpolesonalgae · 1 year ago
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Modern!Amarantha x Fem!reader: Human Centipede[*]
A/N: I’ve been listening to the song Red Flags on repeat and it made me think modern!Amarantha would totally be a true crime girlie and would watch horror to relax :)
Also, I can’t explain it, but I hate the word dildo so much. Like, it just sounds weird :’/
Warnings: sex pill/sex pollen vibes, cross-contamination (do not do this, pls), mean domme!Amarantha, face-riding, sex toys.
To this day, you have no idea why she’d taken an interest in you.
It’s not even that you feel dissatisfied with your features—she’s simply devastatingly beautiful. Armed with a dazzling smile and provokingly intellectual mind, you fell fast. And hard. She’s so smart, it never ceases to amaze you. You still don’t fully know her university course, but you’ve gathered it’s something to do with biology—or chemistry…what’s the difference again?
She’s incredibly well-spoken, clearly having grown up with a thorough education, often dancing rotations around you whenever you engage in conversation, then also often having to slow down, using words more familiar to you. She’s never impatient with your lack of knowledge over your own vocabulary. Honestly, she seems to enjoy explaining things to you—getting this glint in her eye whenever you ask her to explain yet another word.
Either way, you’d worked up the nerve to ask her, half expecting to have been strung along for an ego boost, or some light amusement. Yet, when you’d voiced your request, hands trembling behind your back, she’d accepted!
You could have vomited with relief, but thankfully managed to keep your stomach in check before her cultivated beauty. You would now get to hear her introduce you as her girlfriend—her girlfriend. You nearly burst with blind adoration for her the first time she voiced the title, a wild warmth heating your cheeks as you shook her coursemates’ hands.
But that had been a few months ago—seven, to be precise—and things were going astonishingly well. A few arguments here and there, but that was to be expected, and they seemed to be sorted out with remarkable ease. Often ending in both of you leaving for a few hours, returning to apologise, then you being shoved into her bed—sometimes yours, but usually hers.
Now you’re ringing her doorbell, requesting entrance to her accommodation. It was another one of her date nights, which meant you would inevitably end up cowering beneath a blanket as she watched one of her gratuitously bloody horror films with rapt attention. Sometimes she was a little scary—but maybe it was a little attractive. Very attractive.
She pulls you in for a kiss, and instantly you’re melting into her body, the carnations forgotten as her lips slant over yours, and you moan softly. She pulls away, eyes glinting as she thumbs away a slight smudge of her lipstick that’s been stamped on your lower lip.
It takes a moment for you to emerge from your dazed state, raising the bouquet for her to take. “I thought it might be time for new ones,” you smile at her, a small shudder traveling down your spine as her eyes settle on yours, nails scraping over your knuckles. “How do you do this every time?” She asks over her shoulder as she swishes down the hallway to give the flowers some water. “You always seem to know when the last ones have begun to wilt.”
You laugh absently, gaze narrowing on her ass as she walks away from you, oblivious to your wandering mind. Can she blame you though? In a pretty red dress like that, the hem barely reaching her mid thighs, the sleeves going off the shoulder to display the elegant sweep of her neck, a glittering necklace designed to appear as crystallised blood drops hugging her throat. “Maybe I just have a sixth sense for it,” you joke, removing your shoes as you follow after her to the open-plan floor.
Casually, you slide onto the sofa, instantly nestling into the plethora of pillows and blankets that smell of her shampoo—detergent. Fresh cotton and linen. “What have you selected to haunt me with tonight?” You ask, dread already coiling in the pit of your belly. The only upside is she usually lets you bury yourself into her through the duration of whatever horror she feels like, generally followed by a strange form of aftercare, consisting of her talking and explaining her work to you. Which is honestly quite fun: it takes your mind off the film and you get to learn more about her. A win-win, if you will.
“It’s one of my favourites,” she calls, returning to the section of the floor dedicated to the sitting room. “A masterpiece of art, in my opinion.” You offer a shaky smile, thankfully taking the glass of water she’d brought you, “what’s it about?”
“The premise?” She asks. You nod, assuming it’s the right word for whatever you’re asking. “German doctor sews three people anus to mouth.”
You cough into your drink, hurriedly setting it down as you wipe your mouth, turning to stare at her, “and it’s a horror film?” Her lips quirk, and heat washes down your spine, “you sound surprised.” You swallow, eyeing her nervously from the sofa, already fearing the movie—and it has’t even begun.
“So it’s not pornography?” You hedge. The description just sounded a bit…well, there are lots of people in the world. Her smirk turns wolfish, eyes glinting. “I suppose it depends who’s watching, doesn’t it?” You gulp, shifting beneath the blankets. It’ll only be a few hours, you hope. You can last a few hours for her, you’ve done it before.
“It sounds pretty graphic, Am…” You fret, peeking at her over the blanket. She rolls her eyes, mouth still set in that grin of hers that you know means she’s going to enjoy every second of your squirming. “That’s the point. Now settle down, and enjoy it.” Her sharp tone implies enough about what she’ll do to you afterward. And maybe it makes you desperate but you sigh, doing as she says. You miss that gleam in her eye as she watches you follow her orders without much regard for yourself. Promising indeed. How lucky she is to have found such a willing participant in her games. A lovely, little guinea pig.
————
You spend most of the film squirming back into the sofa, but she doesn’t snap at you once for disturbing her. Instead, you catch her eyes on you at multiple points, observing you quietly. If you had a sound mind, you would have found it unnerving. But you don’t, so you end the film with wetness coalescing between your thighs instead.
“What did you think?” She asks, smiling faintly at what must be your slightly pallid complexion. You swallow nervously, searching for a way to speak well of her chosen film, without lying. “The costume design was lovely. Special Effects too…woah. They really…did that, huh?” You give her a shaky smile, hoping that’ll end her questioning.
It seems satisfactory, because she leans forward, arms wrapping around your waist. You follow happily, crawling into her lap as her hands settle on your hips, bringing her mouth to your own as her lips slant over yours.
Heat gathers quickly between you, perhaps spurred on by your need to forget the content you just consumed by her will. Her teeth find place in your lower lip, and you whimper, hands moving from her shoulders to push at the neckline of her sinful dress.
She pulls back, keeping you still as you pursue her needfully. “Will you do something for me, pet?” She asks softly, her mouth just out of reach of your own. “Anything,” you sigh, gaze latching to hers. She holds a pill before you, and you nearly go cross-eyed to focus on it, “I want you to swallow this for me.”
You take it from her, plucking the small button shaped tablet for you to examine. Not that it does you much good. “What is it?” You ask curiously, shifting in her lap—reminding yourself of the ache between your thighs. “An experiment,” she answers. Your eyes flick to hers warily, “it’s something you developed?” She nods.
“And it’s gone through those preliterary rounds? Of testing and stuff?” She’d mentioned something like that once. Maybe it had been stationery rounds…? Did stationery have two meanings or three? And was it spelt with and E or and A? Amarantha would know.
She nods again, but smiles as if she knows you’re talking out of your ass. You hesitate, considering. If it’s been properly tested…maybe it’s okay then. Surely she wouldn’t give you something unless it’s guaranteed to be fine. Still…
“What does it do?” You ask, eyes raising to her keen set.
“I thought it could be a surprise,” she counters smoothly. A surprise… So it has to be good then. Kind of, at least? You bite your lip. If it would make her happy, then you guess…
“You don’t have to take it,” she sighs, sounding mildly disappointed as she reaches to take it from you. “No!” You exclaim, putting it on your tongue for it to dissolve before she has the chance to remove it. You want to make her pleased, and you trust her, so it’ll be fine.
She grins, eyes widening marginally with feminine pleasure at your unthinking obedience. “Good girl,” she murmurs, cupping your cheek, lust dancing in her gaze as she takes you in.
You have no idea what you’ve just done, and it sends a thrill down her spine. That you’d satisfy her request so mindlessly—yes, you’re perfect for her. With your eagerness to please her, she couldn’t have dreamed up a better partner for her experiments.
It shouldn’t take long to start working, especially since she knows you’re already anticipating being thrown into her bed—looking forward to it. She does so hope you’ll enjoy this as much as she will. Getting to see you all flushed and messy, panting and sweating as you writhe on her bed, pleading for the slightest brush of relief from her.
Oh yes, she’s going to enjoy tonight.
———
“Am…” you whimper into the darkness of her apartment. “Am, please.”
She cocks her head, watching you with barely concealed delight. It had acted quicker than she had thought, but that gives no complaints on her end. “What do you want, pet?”
You whimper louder, squirming on her bed, completely naked, save for the thigh-highs she’d clothed you in before starting. And the blood red rope binding your forearms together at your back. And also the rope shackling your calves to your thighs. All together, she’s gotten you lying on her bed in the dark, spine arched to make room for your arms and legs that have been tied beneath you.
She steps forward a pace, and you keep your thighs spread and still as she trails her fingers down over your abdomen. She traces some imaginary swirls over the sensitive skin, your muscles flexing beneath her nails. “Please touch me,” you beg, breathlessly, panting into the night. “Hmm? You want me to touch you?” You nod frantically, holding back from bucking your hips, raising to meet her finger tips.
“I don’t know about that, pet,” she hums, clearly amused by your desperation. You could sob from the ache that has you soaking her bed sheets, duvet long ago tossed to the floor. “Am…” you pant, head tossing to the side with the effort of keeping your body still as her fingers dance over your thighs. “Am, please…please.”
“Convince me,” she says, retracing her hand and you whimper, vision blurring as your hips buck. Maybe if you can get upright you can spread your legs enough to get some friction from her mattress. “Why should I give into you? I don’t want to encourage bad behaviour, pet.” Your eyes open as they locate her form, brows furrowing as sweat begins to push up through your skin.
“I know you didn’t enjoy the film. You hate horror,” she explains, folding her arms so that her tits are plumped up. You swallow, a fresh wave of arousal dripping from your heat. “Isn’t that right, pet?” You whimper, squeezing your eyes shut as your head falls back into her pillow. But— “Yes, ma’am.”
You can practically envision the way she shivers at the title. She loves it when you use it without her having to ask, namely because it signifies you’ve already reached the point that you’ll do just about anything she asks. Complete submission.
“That’s right, and yet you pretended to like it, didn’t you?” She crawls on top of you, and you whimper when the clothing of her dress scrapes across your sensitive nipples. “Dirty, little liar, aren’t you?” Even in the darkness, you can tell her eyes are gleaming. She’s looking for a reason to punish you.
You shake your head, “no! I liked it, I swear!” She tilts her head to the side, smiling slightly, and you arch your back a little more, the soft weight of her breasts pushing onto you. “Yeah? You liked it?” She asks, leaning closer. You flush with need, wishing your arms weren’t constrained. “Yeah…a little scary, but good. I liked it, Am.”
Her eyes narrow as she looks down at you, weighing your answer. All too suddenly, she smiles, removing herself from your body and tears brim at your lashes. “Am, please!” You whine, hips bucking at the loss of contact. She shushes you, walking over to her TV. “You said you liked it,” she supplies, still smiling from the other end of the room. You nod, though she can’t see you. “Well, you’re in luck, pet,” she drawls, and the beginning of a film starts playing. “There’s a second one!”
You could cry, sob, scream. From pleasure, pain, and an absence of both.
“Oh, don’t pull that face, I’m done teasing you now,” she laughs, but it’s sinister, and you can’t help the feeling that she’s lying somehow. No way it’s over that easy. “Of course, you’re still going to have to work for me, pet.” Yup. There it is. But at least you know the catch now; hopefully it won’t trip you up.
She walks back over to the bed, and you bite your lip to suppress a moan as her eyes lick between your thighs, drinking in the sight of your glistening heat. You open your legs a little wider in response, inviting her to touch you in any way she wants. Her lips quirk, but she moves to her bedside drawer, pulling out a—
“I’ve cleaned it, of course. Cross-contamination, and all that.” She’s caught off guard by a kick of pleasure as you have the audacity to look mildly disappointed. Dumb, little thing. “You want me to use it first?” She asks, arousal clouding the edges of her vision. You’re so, so perfect.
You nod your head frantically and it’s enough to have her resolve fracturing. She sighs, resigned, as she sets the dildo on the bed, enjoying your attention as she pulls the tight, red dress over her head. Your mouth goes dry; your cunt goes hot as you take her in, devouring every inch of her perfection.
Her lips fashion themselves into a smirk as you take in her lacy red underthings: a matching set. “You know I like to prepare,” she drawls, prowling onto the bed. She settles at the foot of the mattress, so she has a lovely view of the hot mess between your thighs. “Open a little wider for me, would you?” She asks, grinning. You follow her order obediently, spreading yourself so she’ll be able to get to you, should she want. You hope she does.
“That’s it. Good girl.” The praise settles in the pit of your tummy, adding to the already unbearable heat between your legs, bubbling away.
Your skin goes hot, then cold, as she places the toy beneath her, going up onto her knees. Her eyes lock on yours, mouth parting in a quiet breath as her fingers slip into her wet heat. The sounds are obscene for the start of what is bound to be a long night. Her digits locate her clit with innate ease, circling a few times before dipping down, experimenting with how wet she is.
It seems it’s satisfactory as she brings her hand back up the front of her body, trailing silvery lines of arousal over her skin as she cups her breast. “You’d better be enjoying the view, pet. This is especially for you,” she grins, flicking her fingers over her nipples as she lowers herself enough so the toy is nestled between her thighs. It’s barely past the tip, but you’re already so turned on by the sight of her being so sexual with you that your mind goes dizzy.
Amarantha laughs slightly, taking in your awed expression. “You always get that look when you see me. Like you’d do anything to have your mouth on me at all times.” You nod eagerly, whimpering at the statement. That idea sounds really, fucking appetising right now. She chuckles at your response, how enthusiastic you are about enjoying her.
A wicked light gleams in her eyes as she begins sinking down onto the toy and you watch as it fills her up. “Maybe I should look into finding ways to keep your warm, wet mouth attached to my pretty cunt? Would you like that, pet?” You don’t have it in you to be ashamed as you nod again, too high on arousal and the promise of pleasure to care about the indignity. “Yeah? Want to be my little centipede, hm?” You don’t care anymore, you just nod. Nod to everything she says in the hopes it’ll encourage her to move onto you faster and satisfy the ache between your thighs.
“That’s my girl. So desperate for me, aren’t you? Do anything I asked you to, wouldn’t you?” She drawls, finally settling on the bed, the toy beep inside her heat. She looks down, noting the same. When her eyes lock on yours, there’s something more animal in her gaze, something sharp and wicked. Honed and bladed. Her lips lift in a feline curve, “ready for me, pet?”
You put your teeth in your lip as you bite down a moan, waiting for her to move, nodding. She smiles, lifting off the dildo as she crawls up your body. One hand tangles in the hair at the back of your head, tugging you upright, guiding the tip to your mouth. “Go on,” she goads, still smiling, “have a taste.”
You don’t need to be told twice, eyes locking on hers lustfully as your tongue flicks out, latching your mouth over the head of the toy, tasting her on your tongue. You moan, brows curving upward as you silently plead for more. She smiles, pushing you back into the bed. “You want something better? Something more intense? More pleasurable?” She drawls. “Yes! Please, Am! Please, please!”
Amarantha laughs. “Open wide, pet.”
You don’t hesitate, tongue lolling out, awaiting her soft, wet heat to grace your mouth. Instead, she pushes the base of the dildo between your lips, teeth fitting into the divot between the small suction pad and the beginning of the toy comfortably. “I didn’t say who it would be more pleasurable for, love,” she grins, swinging her leg over your head, hand tangling in your hair so she can watch as she sinks down onto your mouth. “Besides, isn’t this so much better? You get to watch me fuck myself on top of you. You can watch as this pretty thing sinks deep into my pretty cunt. Isn’t that what you want?”
She grins, knowing you can’t reply. “Just think about it, pet. I’m already dripping over you. This toy’s going to be swallowed up before you even know what’s happening, and then it’ll be like what you’re used to. You get to have your pretty face between my legs, while I get myself off on your mouth.” She tightens around the toy as she hears your muffled whine. You’re panting deeply, body being ravaged by that lovely little pill you’d so mindlessly taken.
“And then, when it’s nice and wet, I’ll put it inside of you. Won’t you like that, pet? Having me so deep inside of you? Like I’m filling you up with my come? Imagine me coating your insides. Won’t that be lovely?” Your eyes practically roll back as she winds her hips over the dildo, settling low enough her wet heat presses down onto you, and you indulge.
It’s just like she said: she’s dripping, her arousal collecting every time she slides down on the cock, letting it trickle into your mouth, collecting on your tongue. “Yeah? Is that better, pet? Enjoying it more now?” She taunts, clit pressing onto your nose. You nod, if only because you know it’ll feel good for her.
Amarantha moans at the movement, thighs going weak as her full weight settles over you and you could swear you’re in heaven. Her heat encasing your senses, her fingers in your hair, knowing her muscles are going weak from pleasure—pleasure that you’re helping provide. “Such a good girl, aren’t you?” She whispers softly, eyes peeking open to look at you. “So good at getting me off, huh?” She laughs to herself. “My little centipede,” she coos.
God, you hope that name doesn’t stick.
Outside the bedroom, at least.
She nods to herself, “I think that’s enough, don’t you?” Then she’s raising onto her knees, leaving you feeling cold as she removes the dildo from your mouth. She turns on your face, so she’s looking down at your bound body. “Ready for me, pet? Ready to have me inside of you? Inside your pretty little cunt?” She asks, a honeyed lilt to her words. “Yes!” A plead and confirmation in one, feeling like you could sob as she presses the tip of the toy at your entrance. The idea of it being inside of you, so soon after having been used by her…the world spins a little.
“Stay with me,” she orders, tapping the head of the object on your clit. A startled moan spills from your lips, making her chuckle. “There you go, swallow it up.” She pushes the warm head inside of you, and you spread your thighs wide, raising your hips as much as you can. One of her hands wraps beneath your shin, helping to move them out from under you.
Tears slip from your lashes as she fills you up—at last. Arousal spills down your thighs as you mix together, deep inside your cunt. “Yes, yes, yes,” you breathe softly, over and over.
“Good girl, keep taking it. Take it all—yes, that’s right.” You could sob when it’s fully inside of you, touching those sensitive spots that make you tighten. “Ready, now? Ready for some fun?” She asks from above you, and you can hear how needy she is, having been the one to watch as she pushed the used dildo into your pussy.
“Yes, ma’am,” you whimper, barely more than a soft exhale onto her inner thigh. “Perfect,” she murmurs, just before settling down onto your mouth. You open on autopilot, tongue darting out to taste her because you need her flavour, need to feel her, need to have her in your stomach. You moan against her soft, wet heat, pushing your wet muscle against her entrance, flicking it over her clit.
You cry out when her fingers begin oscillating gently over your bundle of nerves, landing soft taps and careful strokes to stimulate you while pushing the toy in and out. “Stop pleasuring me, and you won’t get an orgasm, pet,” she breathes lowly, the threat coming out clear as day. “I can force you to give me as many highs as I want with you all wrapped up like this. You don’t need to do a thing,” she warns, grinding over your mouth. “All I need to do is take a seat on your face and strap a vibrator to myself and you’ll be drowning in my cum.”
You’re tempted to stop just so she will, but you need your own release—so badly. So you keep working, tongue flicking over her clit as she pays you the attention you’ve been dying for; craving throughout the night.
Amarantha curses lowly, “good girl, that’s it. Keep doing that and I’ll be coming on your tongue in no time. Just keep fucking going. Work that mouth of yours. Don’t you dare stop.” You wouldn’t dream of it—you want her to come as much as she does. Her oscillations tighten, adding pressure and you feel the toy bumping against those spots again. Your muscles seize in preparation, pushing your face deeper into her wet heat, wanting to have all of her on your mouth as you suckle her clit.
There’s no way your face is anything but drenched, but you find the thought appealing: having her scent, her slick on your skin as proof of her pleasure. Pleasure you’ve served her. It’s enough to have you tipping over the edge. By the feel of it, she’s going with you, grinding herself over your mouth as arousal drips off her, coating you entirely as she curses again and again. You allow her to move as she wants, riding your face, sticking your tongue out as it swipes over her clit until she’s calmed down.
She allows the toy to slip out of your sopping cunt, flopping on her mattress as she pulls off your face. She’s panting, lipstick a little faded, but looking as appetising as ever. You want her to do that again. Want to flip her on her back so you can go down on her, show her how much you love her.
“How’re you feeling, pet?” She pants, swinging off your mouth so she’s at your side. “Am…” you breathe, looking at her needfully, “please, untie me.”
She seems a little disappointed at that, “tapping out?” Her eyes eagerly track the rise and fall of your chest, skin gleaming with sweat. “No way in hell. But I need you on your back, Am,” you pant, looking at her with heat in your eyes that tells her exactly what you want to do.
It’s the quickest she’s ever obliged a request you’ve made in bed before, and she’s never been more proud of an experiment than tonight. It’s justified, to her—even if you’re the first trial run, and she’d lied to you, you’d still taken the pill without asking the right questions. And the outcome is fine. More than fine, even.
The pill is doing exactly what it’s supposed to, and now you’re working her to orgasm after orgasm thanks to her hard work in her lab. A fitting reward, having the power to turn you into her little sex slave whenever she wants. And all she needs to do is give you that faked look of disappointment; you’ll be coerced into anything.
Taglist: @myheartfollower @tcris2020 @mali22 @amygdtjhddzvb
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ao3feed-adaleon · 5 months ago
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saturday mornings
read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/PNgC5KY by pink_strawberry_kisses sent in from tumblr [ask from anon] okay but, aeon quickie in the morning before the kids wake up… they know they might not have much time but they’re 📯 anyways Words: 3454, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Series: Part 3 of Aeon blurbs, drabbles and one shots Fandoms: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse) Rating: Explicit Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Categories: F/M Characters: Leon S. Kennedy, Ada Wong, aeon children - Character, aeon twins - Character, Original Characters Relationships: Leon S. Kennedy/Ada Wong Additional Tags: Fluff and Smut, Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Smut, Shameless Smut, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe, married with kids, Gratuitous Smut, Morning Sex, Morning Cuddles, Lazy Mornings, Post-Resident Evil 6, Post-Resident Evil: Vendetta, Oblivious Leon S. Kennedy, Leon S. Kennedy Loves Ada Wong, Ada Wong Loves Leon S. Kennedy, Married Couple, Morning Wood, maybe squirting??, very wet, sorry - Freeform, this is gross, im sorry, Squirting and Vaginal Ejaculation read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/PNgC5KY
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steddie-fanfic-recs · 1 year ago
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Slutty Social Media
by blissedoutvixen
Rating: Explicit Archive Warning: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationship: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, Robin Buckley & Steve Harrington Character: Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson, Robin Buckley Additional Tags: Social Media, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - College/University, Semi-Public Sex, party hookups, Slut Steve Harrington, We Say With Love, Slut Shaming, but only kind of, Size Queen Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson Has a Big Dick, it's fate, Top Eddie Munson, Bottom Steve Harrington, Steve Harrington Wears Eddie Munson's Clothes, It Leads to Feelings Realizations, Steve Harrington Has a Praise Kink, And Likes to Be Called a Slut, Dirty Talk, All the Petnames, gratuitous use of the word slut, light degradation, Light Dom/sub, Kink Discovery, Subspace, Mildly Dubious Consent, Because Steve is Drunk and Eddie is High, But They are Both Sooo Into It, Soft Dom Eddie Munson, Under-negotiated Kink, Situational Humiliation, just a little, More Discussion of 90's Music Than You Would Think, Eddie Munson Has a Crush on Steve Harrington, steve is oblivious, Maybe Very Slight Dumbification, Eddie Munson is a Sweetheart, Eddie Munson Takes Care of Steve Harrington, Sub Steve Harrington, But He's Just Realizing it and Doesn't Know What It Is, Swimmer Steve Harrington, thirst traps, Gay Eddie Munson, Bisexual Steve Harrington, Steve Harrington Has Bad Parents, Exhibitionism, I spell it 'cum', Sorry Not Sorry, Steve Harrington Being Called "Princess", Babygirl Steve Harrington, Praise Kink, Crying During Sex Words: 15,495 Chapters: 1/1
Summary
"Your Instagram is kind of slutty, Steve." "What?" he protests. "No it's not!" Robin raises an eyebrow at him. "Steve, come on." Or: Steve has a really slutty Instagram presence and it's kind of ruining Eddie's life. Also, Eddie would love Alice In Chains and I will die on that hill.
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smutconnoisseur · 2 years ago
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♡ Cherry Claimed ♡
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Pairing ♡ RetiredCap!Alpha!Steve Rogers x Baker!Omega!Bucky Barnes
Word Count ♡ 4.5K
Rating ♡ E
Read On Ao3
Tags ♡ Diner AU, Non- Traditional A/b/o, Shrunkyclunks, Older man/younger man, Oblivious Steve Rogers, Gratuitous use of Cherries, Explicit Sexual Content, Everything Is Beautiful & Nothing Hurts
Summary ♡ Steve has been a simple man since he retired. Goes to the same small-town diner ‘Barnes, every day. He’s not the best cook, and it’s the warm home-cooked meals he’s missed out on.
Initially enticed by the sweet aromas drawing him in by his nose past the front bell. The family-owned restaurant is friendly staffed. But it’s the smell of sugar, ripe sweet cherries, and homemade dough that he wants. Every day he orders the same burger at the same booth.
Every day he asks for the dessert special, and every day he doesn’t get what he wants.
Square + Prompt ♡
Ⓝ ⓶ + Oblivious Pining | All Caps Bingo | Card # AC 1094 | All Caps Bingo Masterlist @allcapsbingo
Ⓝ ⓷ + Retired!Cap (Free space) | Stucky Bingo | Card # R40101 | Stucky Bingo Masterlist @stuckybingo
Ⓘ ⓶ + Accidental Scent Bonding | AFG Omegaverse Bingo | @afgomegaversebingo
Ⓝ ⓷ + Diner AU (free space) | AF AU Bingo | @anyfandomaubingo
Ⓖ ⓷ + Claiming Marks | Sebastian Stan Bingo | @sebastianstanbingo
Ⓝ ⓷ + Rimming (free space) | AFG Kink Bingo | @anyfandomkinkbingo
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Author's Note ♡ Mood-board made myself 🍒/ The wonderful art in this fic is made by : @buckymilf | graphic credit : @firefly-graphics | Masterlist | AO3 |
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terresdebrume · 10 months ago
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for the OTP ask meme: 14 and 51 for Webgott (or whichever ship where that's an interesting question/whichever you want lol)
[Ask me about my OTPs]
Thanks for the ask :D I love the questions you picked, they're difficult but in a great way :3
14: How do their personalities compliment each other? How do they clash?
So to me, the way David is portrayed in the series makes him seem like a guy that's even-tempered enough people may wonder if anything actually gets to him, who can definitely be oblivious to how things and people work (I mean, the guy is out of a war for 4 months, comes back, and it apparently doesn't occur to him that the guys he doesn't see right away might be injured or dead? Come on.) In my headcanon, part of this even-tempered-ness exists because he got lucky and is just like, emotionally solid, so to speak, but another part of it is also that I headcanon him as someone who doesn't always realize he has Feelings about Stuff, until they bubble up and he finds himself snapping about it.
(Full disclosure: my headcanon of Web is a little bit autistic-leaning, but I think his spot on the spectrum would be one where he'd go under the radar until and unless something made it impossible for him to arrange his life in a way that accomodates his needs)
Meanwhile, Joe definitely knows when he feels things, he's just generally not happy about feeling them and has a tendency to make it everyone else's problem. (Or Web's, once they get together.) I think, in a way, the reason he ribs Web constantly (seemingly especially after he comes back from the hospital?) is because he can't wrap his head around the concept of a guy who's been living the same shit Joe has and seems to be as affected by that as a a dog is affected by the theory of relativity. I think it just doesn't compute, and at least his earlier niggling is partially a scientific experiment to see if he can Make This Guy Emote.
Which of course, to Web (who is oblivious and doesn't realize his apparent mental stability in the face of Everything is odd) probably feels like gratuitous targeted harrassment until he figures out how to read Joe and realize that actually this is just an elaborate form of pigtails-pulling (or at least it becomes that after a while)
So, like. Overall I think Web and Lieb compliment each other in the same places they clash: Web doesn't know what he feels most of the time but has no issues talking about it when he does, which Joe finds both fascinating and frustrating because who the fuck rolls over on their back and bares their chest like that on a regular basis, am I right? He thinks it's breathtakingly brave stupid.
Meanwhile, Joe will bite your head off before he admits that he like strawberry cake over chocolate, actually, but because Web is already used to having to retroengineer his emotions from context clues (and he's trying to figure out why Joe hates him specifically) he ends up accidentally figuring out a whole lot about Joe that other people don't, which then gives him the necessary insight to respond to what Joe is externalizing rather than what he's saying which in turn makes him possibly the best person for Joe to hang out with.
51: What’s a non verbal way they say I love you?
Honestly? All the ways. As in, I think they probably go like, ten or twenty years without ever actually using the words, mostly because again, Joe is allergic, and by the time Web realizes it he's already been showing it for a while anyway.
I would say the most deliberate way Web says this to Joe is to get him food, especially greasy or sweet food on a semi-regular basis. Forget flowers: David knows that as far as Lieb is concerned, love is stored in the butter.
For Joe, I think when he actually tries to show affection he does it by seeking out activities that are relevant to David's interests (though not without complaining, of course). This ranges from spontaneously giving David his gracious permission to drag him to the sea so thay can go sailing, to saving for three months so they can drive up to that conference about sharks two states over.
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dhr-ao3 · 4 months ago
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Not Pretty Enough
Not Pretty Enough https://ift.tt/QoqjLYN by JillyJeanLouise Words: 8144, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Fandoms: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: F/M Characters: Hermione Granger, Draco Malfoy Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy Additional Tags: Smut, Shameless Smut, Gratuitous Smut, Vaginal Sex, Sex, Loss of Virginity, Daddy Kink, Inappropriate Use of Legilimency (Harry Potter), Inappropriate Use of Malfoy Signet Ring (Harry Potter), Mirror Sex, Pining Draco Malfoy, Oblivious Hermione Granger, Cunnilingus, Blow Jobs, Oral Sex, Face-Sitting, Nipple Play, Inappropriate Use of Wandless Magic (Harry Potter), Cock Warming, Cock Warming as Punishment, One Shot, Complete via AO3 works tagged 'Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy' https://ift.tt/Z3C5z4y September 04, 2024 at 04:10AM
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robotnik-mun · 2 years ago
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So, while I primarily jaw about Sonic stuff? I’m also a pretty avid Deltarune fan, and like most in the Fandom I got my own ideas and theories of where this is all heading to. Now, the Big Stuff has been covered a dozen times by now, and better than I could do it, so I’m gonna introduce something a little small scale.
Namely, I think I got an idea of what is up with Kris’ half of the bedroom.
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At a glance, this paints an incredibly dismal picture of Kris as a person, especially in contrast with Azzy’s half of the bedroom. It’s just a void of anything you’d expect a teenager to have- no decorations, no awards, nothing to indicate they have any kind of hobbies or interests, not even an alarm clock. Kris’ life is just an unholy, unnatural blank.
Likewise, it says nothing good about Kris’ dynamic with their family, at a glance. What kind of brother lords their accomplishments over their sibling in such a gratuitous manner? What kind of parents PERMIT something like this to occur? You’d be under the impression that Kris is blatantly neglected and overlooked, and it would seem born out by the fact virtually everyone in Hometown is more interested in talking TO Kris about Azzy rather than conversing with Kris for their own sake. The game system in the Dreemurr household has one good controller and one outdated, junky controller. Berdly even refers to Kris as a ‘fellow bluebird’, the context making it clear he regards Kris as being unremarkable and ignored as Berdly himself was prior to the Spelling Bee.
Yeah, this room seems symbolic about Kris, doesn’t it?
Only... I’m not actually sure this room being this way is why we think it is. As we learn more about Kris it becomes clear that Kris isn’t some blank slate we pilot, but someone who does in fact have interests and hobbies and all that jazz, as any teenager should. Nor is Kris actually being neglected by their family- the ‘bad’ controller is used by Asriel rather than Kris. Kris is in fact greatly loved by their family, from what we see. So why is none of that reflected in their half of the room?
I think Kris’ half isn’t like this because Kris is completely unaccomplished and lacking in things they like. I think, at one point in the past, Kris’ corner was every bit as decorated as Azzy’s... and then, for whatever reason, Kris willingly decided to just get rid of it all, and chooses to live this way for reasons that we can guess at, but will probably become clear the further along we go.
Why do I think this? Because whatever their failings as people, I have an incredibly hard time believing that Toriel OR Asgore are so negligent and oblivious that they’d allow a set up like this to persist unless it was by Kris’ own choice. I could be wrong, mind you, and I do believe that Kris’ parents are at some level unwilling to confront that Kris has problems... but I don’t think that even with that caveat that either of them is so utterly incompetent as to just allow one child to seemingly flaunt their accomplishments in front of the other like this.
And then there’s Azzy himself. We don’t know anything about how Asriel is in the present. So far the picture we have painted for us though indicates that he is in fact a good guy who cares deeply for his sibling (as well as being a colossal dork at odds with the kind of Golden Boy that the rest of the town has constructed him to be). So on that front, it seems incredibly unlikely that Asriel would make his half of the room the way it is given how it’d look for Kris. And even if the truth is that Asriel is in fact a horrible asshole (which strikes me as unlikely-but-possible), then it comes back to Asgore and Toriel not allowing this even if Asriel was covering up his actual bad intentions.
Therefore? My conclusion is that Kris, for whatever reason, has gotten rid of all the things that defined THEIR half of the room, and is choosing to live this weird, miserable existence that we see them living. Why they’re doing this, as with everything else, is open to heavy interpretation. My own suspicions range from them doing it out of sheer self-loathing, to them deliberately doing it to hide the details of their life from Us, the Player... there’s a lot going on here that indicates things with Kris go far beyond what We see, and they are privy to thinks that We aren’t. But either way, their corner being the way it is? Is due entirely to their own choice, and Toriel is simply permitting it even though its not a healthy thing for Kris to be doing at all.
In the end we’ll only know once the rest of this game is finally released (and God I hope that’s soon you seriously have no idea), but for now? I choose to believe that Kris’ life isn’t as barren as this room would indicate... they simply, for whatever reason, are unwilling to share that life with others at this point, either due to the events of the past or due to not wanting Us to see.
... I also like to think that, if this is true, Toriel is storing all of Kris’ things in the attic in the hopes that one day they’ll want it back. That however is less textual based and more Realm Of Pure Headcanon, heh.
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firstprince-ao3feed · 9 months ago
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no big deal (i love you)
by spidybi “I assume the coffee's alright?” Henry asked as if he didn’t know that Alex preferred his to everyone else’s. Didn’t stop Alex from reminding him every day. “Always is, sweetheart,” He said. Henry smiled, one Alex would prove to a jury was solely just for him, reserved just for them. They didn’t need to say anything else. That feeling that Alex couldn’t quite put into words, he had a growing suspicion that he wasn’t alone in it. But Alex was okay with the unspoken words between them. He showed it in other ways and maybe one day, the words would come to him. “I was thinking waffles?” Alex took a big gulp of his coffee, the warmth igniting every part of him and not just from the temperature. “Sounds great, dear.” The roommates that act like boyfriends but aren't even though they want to be au. Words: 6517, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Fandoms: Red White & Royal Blue - Casey McQuiston, Red White & Royal Blue (2023) Rating: Not Rated Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Categories: M/M Characters: Alex Claremont-Diaz, Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor, June Claremont-Diaz, Nora Holleran Relationships: Alex Claremont-Diaz/Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor Additional Tags: Minor June Claremont-Diaz/Nora Holleran, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - College/University, They were roommates!, Boys In Love, Oblivious Alex Claremont-Diaz, Pinning Alex Claremont-Diaz, Pinning Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor, Roommates to lovers, Idiots in Love, pre law Alex, Lit major Henry, gratuitous use of terms of endearment, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, i mean really tooth-rotting stuff, Getting Together, author forgot how to tag, author is also not british, sorry henry, but author is texan, roommates that act like boyfriends but aren't even though they want to be, no beta we die like alex's heterosexuality via https://ift.tt/Q5YzX0f
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wangxianficfinder · 1 year ago
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In the mood for...
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1. hey y'all im hoping you're having a good holiday. im in the mood for jin ling having a complex about his courtesy name. thanks, y'all are spectacular!
climbing up that coastal shelf by Sour_Idealist (T, 15k, JC & JL & WWX, JC & JL, JC & WWX, JL & LSZ, JL & WWX, Post-Canon, Mutually Unrequited Forgiveness, JC & WWX Reconciliation, Family History, Generational Trauma, Discussion of Canonical Abuse, Awkward Attempts at Communication, mentions of past JC/WQ, Fairy is a good dog) This is for #1 but it's not the focus of the entire fic, just the second section
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2. Hello! In the mood for canon setting time loop fics? Not just going back in time once, but someone is stuck in a loop over and over again. Preferably Wei Wuxian-centric, but it could be any character. Love this blog, thank you all! @gloriousclotpole
the cycle of regret by KouriArashi (T, 14k, WangXian, Groundhog Day, Fix-It, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Alternate Canon) LWJ is the one stuck in the loop
Wearing Down Every Bone by CSHfic, VSfic (E, 30k, WangXian, Groundhog Day, Time Loop, Temporary Character Death, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Canon, Case Fic, Curses, Pining, Getting Together, Time Travel, Night Hunts, Hurt wwx, Mystery, Angst with a Happy Ending, Use Your Words, Mutual Pining, Depression and Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, gratuitous use of empathy) I have something that's post-canon rather than strictly canon, but still deserves a mention I feel
Pocketful of Soul by Jenrose (T, 182k, WangXian, Time Travel Fix-It, Canon Divergence, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, BAMF MXY, MXY Lives, Genderfluid MXY, MXY Backstory, POV MXY, If At First You Don’t Succeed Try Try Again and Again and Again, Wangxian Speedrun, times three because time travel, Found Family, Genius MXY, Genius WWX, Not particularly JGY friendly, CQL-based) Pocketful of Soul by Jenrose is probably not what people expect from time loops but it is time loops nonetheless
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3. Do you know good fics where Yu Ziyuan got some karma for the way she treated Wei Wuxian? Bonus if her husband got some karma too (even if he never mistreated directly Wei Wuxian, he didn't stop his wife to abuse him)
🔒If Wishes Were Donkeys by NightOwl1 (M, 101k, WIP, WangXian, SVSSS, Time Travel Fix-It, Case Fic, Mpreg, Fluff and Humor, Dysfunctional Jiāng Family, Bad Parent YZY, WangXian Get a Happy Ending,   Period-Typical Homophobia, Crossdressing, LWJ and WWX Have a Breeding Kink, It’s All The System’s Fault, Post-Canon, Cloud Recesses Study Arc, Warning: JGS, Good Uncle LQR, LWJ and WWX Are LSZ’s Parents, Inappropriate Humor, Family Feels)
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4. Hi! Itmf where lan wangji and Wei wuxian are in an established relationship and suddenly lan wangji goes back in time. ❤️❤️
The Second Hand Unwinds by trulywicked (E, 25k, wangxian, JYL/JZX, Time Travel Fix-It, not JC friendly, not Yúnmèng Jiāng Sect friendly, not Jiāng Family friendly, not YZY friendly, Time Travelling LWJ, Protective LWJ, Fluff, Minor Angst, Minor Character Death, JGS is his own warning, Wooing, LWJ is romantic af, Inventor WWX, Genius WWX, Cloud Recesses Study Arc, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Protective Gūsū Lán Sect, Supportive LXC, Good Uncle LQR, WIP)
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5. I love all time travel, but could I ask for fics where the person time-travelling isn't wwx? I'd love for the person to seize the opportunity to make sure that wwx experiences less (or none!) of the Horrors haha
🔒💖 The blame game by apathyinreverie (T, 13k, wangxian, LXC & LWJ, LSZ & WWX, WWX & WQ, LXC & WWX, canon divergence, time travel fix-it, possessive LWJ, oblivious WWX, fluff, siblings, romance, golden core reveal, golden core fix-it) Lan Xichen travels back to just before Wei Wuxian liberates the Wens and supports him.
Lynchpin by ShanaStoryteller (Not Rated, 103k, WangXian, JC & WWX, Time Travel, Fix-It, Lynchpin [PODFIC] by Opalsong, [PODFIC] Lynchpin by Gwogobo) the one travelling is JC, to the moment he and LWJ find WWX after Burial Mounds
The Second Hand Unwinds by trulywicked (E, 25k, wangxian, JYL/JZX, Time Travel Fix-It, not JC friendly, not Yúnmèng Jiāng Sect friendly, not Jiāng Family friendly, not YZY friendly, Time Travelling LWJ, Protective LWJ, Fluff, Minor Angst, Minor Character Death, JGS is his own warning, Wooing, LWJ is romantic af, Inventor WWX, Genius WWX, Cloud Recesses Study Arc, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Protective Gūsū Lán Sect, Supportive LXC, Good Uncle LQR, WIP) link in #4
Resilience. by Vrishchika (T, 7k, wangxian, time travel, not JC friendly, golden core transfer fix-it) JC & LWJ are the time travellers
Time, Time, Time by skeletonofaplant (G, 44k, wangxian, JYL/JZX, LSZ & WWX, JYL & JL & JZX, LJY & LSZ, Time Travel Fix-It, Burial Mounds Settlement Days, Identity Porn, Identity Reveal, Angst, Fluff, Junior Quartet Dynamics, Time Travelling Junior Ensemble, Junior Ensemble Shenanigans, Humor) The Junior Quartet time travels
A Matter of Time series by mrcformoso (E, 70 k, WangXian, Time Travel Fix-It, POV LWJ, POV JC, Dark LWJ, Manipulation, Grooming, WangXian Get a Happy Ending, Consensual Underage Sex, Except problematic please read warning in first chapter, Blood and Violence, Insane LWJ, Manic LWJ, Conditioning, WWX is a Lán, Minor Character Death, Confused JC, Golden Core Reveal, Good Friend NHS, WWX Isn’t Adopted by the Jiāngs, Abusive Jiāng Family, Jiāng Family Bashing, Jiāng Family Critical, POV NHS, Dark NHS, Anal Sex, Marathon Sex, Dual Cultivation, Qīnghéng-jūn Lives, LWJ Has a Big Dick, WWX Self-Lubricates, Plot Twists, Porn With Plot, Scheming NHS, Manipulative NHS, BAMF LWJ, BAMF WWX) Dark!LWJ time travels & sets out to ensure WWX has a happy life
A Narrow Bridge by FrameofMind, Jo Lasalle (Jo_Lasalle) (E, 700k, WangXian, Time Travel Fix-It, Canon Divergence, Slow Burn, Getting Together, First Time, Pining while fucking, Burial Mounds Settlement Days, Angst with a Happy Ending, CQL Verse, almost everybody lives/almost nobody dies, epistolary-ish, canon-ish side pairings, radishes) LWJ time travels. Features an interesting price for the second chance
💖 With Surgical Precision by metisket (T, 20k, WQ & WN, WQ & WWX, WangXian, Time Travel, Families of Choice, sibling bonding through murder) WQ time travels
💖 Lessons relearned by Iamnotawriter (T, 44k, WangXian, LQR & WWX, Not Madam Yu Friendly, Time Travel Fix-It, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon-Typical Violence, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Inventor WWX, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, No Golden Core Transfer, YZY Bashing) LQR time travels
Never Again by Hauntcats (T, 67k, WWX & WN & WQ, JC & WWX, wangxian, graphic depictions of violence, major character death, Canon Divergence, Angst, Golden Core Transfer Fix-It, Time Travel Fix-It, Not JC Friendly, Dark, BAMF WWX, mentions of abuse, Not Everyone Dies au, XY doesn’t have a happy ending) Technically WWX does time travel in this, but only after WQ does
Regrets by antebunny (G, 38k, wangxian, miscommunication, misundersandings, time travel fix-it, temporary character death, angst w/ happy ending, fluff, hurt/comfort) Both LWJ & WWX time travel
The Wild Geese’s Tomb by The Feels Whale (miscellea) (T, 66k, WangXian, Time Travel AU, fixit, Temporary Character Death) several people time travel, including WWX, but it's LWJ pov
somehow, someway, we all get to someday by Stratisphyre (T, 76k, CSSR/LQR/WCZ, LQR & Madam Lan, LQR & CSSR, wangxian, JYL & LXC, Madam Lan/OFC, Canon Divergence, Role Reversal, Canon-Typical Violence, Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn, Parenthood, Not Everyone Dies AU, Threesome - F/M/M, Family Feels, Not JFM Friendly, Not Lan Sect Friendly, past emotional abuse, Demisexual Character, Inclusive discussions of reproductive rights) it's lqr who goes back
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6. Hii! For the next itmf, do you guys have any f1 recs? Thank you!
Set the pace by Lunarieen (T, 20k, WangXian, Modern AU, Coffee Shops & Cafés, Sports, Getting Together, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, mentions of an accident (nothing graphic), 5+1 Things, Light Angst, Slow Burn, Formula 1)
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7. For the next intmf could you do any of your favourite there was only one bed or fake dating fics?
Just the best pining from both sides and the angst of lying in bed next to the boy you like!
The Simplest Way Forward by harriet_vane (E, 70k, WangXian, Modern AU, Accidental Baby Acquisition,Kid Fic, explicit in much much later chapters, green card marriage (but not really), pining for your own husband, endless pining, Slow Burn, Happy Ending, Nothing else bad or traumatic happens to the baby, [Podfic of] The Simplest Way Forward by knight_tracer)
You, Asleep and Dreaming by etymologyplayground (M, 9k, WangXian, LWJ POV, 5+1 Things, Literal Sleeping Together, Sharing a Bed, Cuddling & Snuggling, Intimacy, Getting Together, Fluff, Post-Canon, Undressing, wwx's 'angry lwj' kink)
abort retry fail by aroceu (E, 21k, wangxian, amnesia, married WX, internalized homophobia, handholding, smut, canon-typical kink, fluff & humor, SBWY)
Always Knew You Were Magical by jeyhawk (E, 25k, WangXian, Modern with Magic, Curse Breaking, Case Fic, Sharing a Bed, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Pining, Resolved Sexual Tension, Masturbation, First Time, Blow Jobs, curse fic, College/University, True Love's Kiss, Attempted self harm under the influence of a curse)
the moon lives in the lining of your skin by sarahyyy (M, 9k, WangXian, Modern AU, College/University, Friends With Benefits, Misunderstandings, Oblivious, Pining, Mutual Pining, Love Confessions, Sharing a Bed, Roommates)
cut through the clouds, break the ceiling by tardigradeschool (G, 2k, WangXian, Modern AU, Love Confessions, Drunken Confessions, Sharing a Bed, Pining, Fluff)
call me home and I'll build you a throne by ana_cp (E, 51k, WangXian, Post-Canon, Post-CQL, Canon Compliant, Cloud Recesses, Getting Together, Developing Relationship, Gūsū Lán Juniors Dynamics, Touch-Starved, Non-Sexual Intimacy, ... and then Sexual Intimacy, Nightmares, Hurt/Comfort, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, WWX Has a New Golden Core, Farmer WWX, Chief Cultivator LWJ, Mutual Pining, Communication, Quietly Falling Into a Married Life, Light Angst, (because they don't think they deserve each other), Wholesome, POV LWJ, POV WWX, Sharing a Bed, WWX's Birthday, Semi-Public Sex, Inventor WWX, Jealous WWX)
The answer has always been yes by Magnolia822 (E, 6k, WangXian, Modern AU, College/University, Friends to Lovers, Pining, Sharing a Bed, Bisexual Male Character, Frottage, Sexual Tension, Unsafe Sex, Getting Together, There Was Only One Bed)
End Racism on the OTW - Adventures in Pet Sitting by raitala (E, 63k, WangXian, background NieLan, Modern AU, Mild Hurt/Comfort, obscure animal facts, Artist WWX, Maths Nerd LWJ, POV LWJ, comphet lwj, Self-Realisation, Coming Out, London, Sharing a Bed, Exploring Sexuality, Mutual Pining, WangXian Get a Happy Ending, Fluff and Angst, Masturbation, Light Dom/sub, Oral Sex, Frottage)
🔒 tuck me in by belovedmuerto (T, 4k, WangXian, bed sharing, Hurt/Comfort, mostly comfort, Pre-Slash, Getting Together, Nightmares, expressions of care)
Out of the Bin and Into Your Heart by Alaceron (T, 27k, WangXian, Modern AU, Fake/Pretend relationship, Oblivious WWX)
❤️ save a sword, ride a socialist by sysrae (E, 33k, wangxian, modern w magic, college/university au, fake/pretend relationship, single parent WWX, homophobia, light angst w/ happy ending, idiots to lovers, fluff)
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8. A more severely autistic lan wangji? With Wangxian, explorations of ableism,
My Boy Builds Coffins by enbysaurus_rex (Not Rated, 48k, WangXian, Coffin Maker AU, YL WWX, Location: Yílíng, LWJ builds coffins, Autistic LWJ, falling in love over a coffin, Hurt WWX, Mutual Pining, LWJ Has Feelings, Deathscapes, Death as a bittersweet community thing, accidental ecofiction, Farmer LWJ)
a new kind of silence by deliciousblizzardshark (E, 11k, WangXian, Modern AU, Autistic LWJ, Communication Disorder, Trans LWJ, Protective WWX, Pregnant LWJ, Panic Attacks, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Happy Ending, Getting Together, Oral Sex, Vaginal Sex, Soft WangXian, POV WWX)
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9. hi hiii i’ve looked through your omegaverse recs, but i’m specifically trying to find fics where wwx and lwj were both alphas pre death, but wwx became an omega when he woke up in mxy’s body. do you have any like that?
You've got me feelin' like a child now by MaggieoftheOwls (E, 9k, wangxian, A/B/O, Alpha LWJ, Past Alpha WWX, Omega MXY, not that Wangxian realize at first)
March 31st by Midshipsman (E, 3k, wangxian, A/B/O, Alpha LWJ, Alpha WWX, Omega MXY, Gender Dysphoria, Body Dysphoria, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Biting, Oral Knotting, Top WWX, Switching (kinda), Loving acceptance of your partner's needs, Trans Male Character, Light BDSM)
Tilted by BadPennyGirl, thedawnwall (M, 24k, wangxian, A/B/O, Alpha WWX, Alpha LWJ, Omega MXY, Gender Dysphoria, Sexual Tension, No Sex, Just a lot of thirsting, Canon-Typical Gender Stereotypes, Getting Together, WN is the Best Brother, Cuddling & Snuggling, Spooning, Masturbation, JC Tries, JC is So Done, Omega WN)
( Five to Seven Days by Unforth (E, 5k, wangxian, A/B/O, Canon Divergence, Vers LWJ, Bottom LWJ, Vers WWX, Top WWX, WWX in MXY's Body, Omega WWX, Alpha MXY, Alpha LWJ, Knotting, Rutting, Body Dysphoria, WWX is Kind Of Presentation Queer, Overstimulation, Multiple Orgasms, Explicit Consent) and the opposite, formerly omega!wwx is now in alpha!mxy's body )
Smoke by TenyaTrash (E, 298k, WangXian, ZhuiLing, NieLan, Drama & Romance, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Relationships, Mutual Pining, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha LWJ, Beta LXC, Alpha Turned Omega WWX, Lost Love, Omega LSZ, Beta JL, Alpha JC, Omega NHS, Sharing Body Heat, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Denial of Feelings, Scenting, Scent Marking, Primarily CQL with elements of novel thrown in, Sibling Bonding, Courting Rituals, Marriage Proposal, Protective JC, Yunmeng Brothers Reconciliation, Versatile wangxian, Married Life, Enthusiastic Consent, Family Bonding, supportive families, Divergent Omegaverse, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics)
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10. ITMF longform college au fics! slowburn and preestablished friendship preferred. bonus if there's nightmare hurt/comfort or sickfic elements, i just like when they take care of each other :) thanks!! @monstergreentea
and here comes the summertime by ribena (M, 72k, WangXian, Modern AU, College/University, Academia, this is set in America, Enemies to Lovers, Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, Slice of Life, Humor, Light Angst, Falling In Love, Found Family)
mating rituals by detectorist (E, 16k, WangXian, XuanLi, Modern AU, College/University, Humour, Pining, Getting Together, Idiots in Love)
💖 Pentimento. by orange_crushed (E, 73k, wangxian, modern, college/university au, art conservation, museums, pining, not actually unrequited love, angst w/ happy ending, misunderstandings, smut, major character injury, hospitalization, hurt/comfort, past incarceration, forgery) kind of? lots of college flashbacks?
Walk the Circle in the Other Direction by notevenyou (E, 31k, WangXian, Modern AU, College/University, High School, Coming Out, Homophobia, Bad Parenting, Alcohol, Recreational Drug Use, Vomiting, Panic Attack, Bullying, Minor Injuries, Blood, Fighting, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Oblivious WWX, honestly not as dark as the tags make it seem, bisexual wwx, WWX/MM, sex between a man and a woman)
Falling Headlong by floraidh (T, 35k, WangXian, Modern AU, College/University, skater au, First Meetings, First Kiss, Getting Together, autistic lwj)
Only Fools Rush In by justpeace (M, 22k, WangXian, Modern AU, College/University, Bisexual Disaster WWX, Asian-American Character, Banter, Flirting, Fluff and Humor, Getting Together)
But really, why? by Scrippio (T, 52k, WangXian, Modern AU, College/University)
take me home (where i belong) by scarletwanlian (E, 153k, WangXian, Modern AU, Slice of Life, PTSD, Trauma, Dissociation, Music, Strangers to Lovers, Friends to Lovers, Depression, Hurt/Comfort, Recovery, Injury Recovery, mental recovery, Mental Health Issues, Non-Sexual Intimacy, AND sexual intimacy, Literal Sleeping Together, First Time, Families of Choice, Car Accidents, Found Family, Flashbacks, Nightmares, gore elements somewhat, descriptions can get a bit gorey at times, Eventual Happy Ending, Sad with a Happy Ending, Healing, Character Study, Grief/Mourning, Survivor Guilt, Whump)
like blue flame over my fingertips by tangerinechar (T, 37k, WangXian, College/University, Mutual Pining, 5+1 Things, Food as a Metaphor for Love, lwj and jzx being reluctant bros)
🔒you are safe / loved / worthy / enough by everythingispoetry (T, 150k, WangXian, Modern AU, College/University, Social Media, Mental Health Issues, Healing, self-care, Anxiety, Hurt/Comfort, the mortifying ordeal of self-acceptance, Falling In Love, Depression, Slow Burn)
(Planning the Day) To Meet You by Bettydice (E, 61k, WangXian, Modern AU, College/University, Pining, Mutual Pining, WWX raises A-Yuàn, minimum angst, MAXIMUM GAY, Self-indulgent fluff, Slow Burn, Eventual Smut, POV LWJ, Happy Ending, Getting Together, Falling In Love, Masturbation, Blow Jobs, Hand Jobs, Anal Sex, Intercrural Sex)
Stumbling Into You by Magnolia822 (E, 39k, WangXian, Modern AU, College/University, Getting Together, Friends to Lovers, Practice Kissing, Bisexuality, Coming Out, New York City, Denial of Feelings, Mutual Pining, Hand Jobs, Jealousy, Light Angst, Fluff and Smut, Slow Burn, Past WWX/MM, Underage Drinking, Recreational Drug Use, Family Dynamics, Falling In Love, Found Family, Unsafe Sex, Minor Character Death, Grief/Mourning)
❤️ the best of you by sysrae (E, 41k, WangXian, XuanLi, Modern AU, College/University, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Mutual Pining, Getting Together, slightly undernegotiated kink, Nightmares, Panic Attacks, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, JFM and Madam Yu's A+ parenting, Dysfunctional Family, Mental Health Issues, the most tender of railings, Reference to animal attacks/animal cruelty, descriptions of past violence)
🔒some impulse of delight by handclaps (E, 20k, WangXian, Modern AU, First Time, Light Bondage)
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11. I want wangxian fics like the web series "TRANSPLANT" , it's an hospital story, about a doc, Hamed who came from a war background? He has got ultra instincts, a gifted doc, a nice kind person. He was a patient in the hospital and 2 weeks later he joined in as the doc there. The story is nice.
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12. Fics where
A) wwx and/or lwj is a biker?
B) wx like to dance together like in a lazy afternoon, or after a soft beautiful date, or on their wedding day, or when a yuan is baby talking.
12B)
Across the street to another life by danegen (M, 99k, WangXian, Modern AU, unleashed au, Family Fluff, Set in America, Hurt/Comfort, Past Child Abuse, Addiction, Crime, Amnesia, Ableist Language, another fridged mother, POV Alternating, past wwx/ofc, past wwx/omc, Medium parent YZY, A-Yuan is wwx’s biological son, Musicians, Happy Ending) this fic is mostly very angsty but there is one very cute wangxian dancing scene. Good fic though
For Once In My Life by Selenay (M, 7k, wangxian, Modern, Dance AU, Strictly Come Dancing Fusion, Dancer WWX, Violinist LWJ, Ballroom Dancing, Established Relationship, Romantic Fluff, the inherent sexiness of being lovingly cared for, Podfic Available) might like For Once in My Life; It's a sequel to a longer fic (also great!) where wangxian are dance partners on a reality show, but this part is mostly about them practising a dance together at home, so it could fit the request.
Just Ask Me To Stay by mrcformoso (M, 21k, wangxian, Former JZn/WWX, Minor LXC/NMJ, Minor JYL/JZX, Modern, Dancer WWX, Musician LWJ, Roommates, Best Friends, Friends to Lovers, Break Up, Post-Break Up, Recovery, Family, Realizing Your Best Friend is the Love of Your Life, WWX Has Self-Esteem Issues, And LWJ is not having it, Sex as Self Worth Reaffirmation, Fluff, Light Angst, Anal Sex, Anal Fingering, Oral Sex, Domestic Fluff, LWJ Has a Big Dick, WWX Has a Breeding Kink, Size Queen WWX, Belly Bulge, Porn With Plot, WWX Has Friends, LWJ Has Friends, Hurt/Comfort, Romantic Comedy, Cute, Feel-good) WWX is a dancer and he dances on good days and LWJ dances with him.
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13. for the next ITMF,
a) (wangxian's or any) future child/ren time travel in the past
b) boashan sanren is present/involved in the storyline (like she went down her mountain, being with wwx, or any)
c) secretly married wangxian (pref. modern)
thankyouuuuuu!!!
13A)
Time, Time, Time by skeletonofaplant (G, 44k, wangxian, JYL/JZX, LSZ & WWX, JYL & JL & JZX, LJY & LSZ, Time Travel Fix-It, Burial Mounds Settlement Days, Identity Porn, Identity Reveal, Angst, Fluff, Junior Quartet Dynamics, Time Travelling Junior Ensemble, Junior Ensemble Shenanigans, Humor) link in #5 Also works for this request as LSZ time travels
Baby Of Mine by pupeez4eva (G, 3k, wangxian, time travel, humor, canon divergence, everyone lives, gusu school days, family)
Ardent Desires by crestre (Not rated, 6k, wangxian, Time Travel, Canon Divergence, A/B/O, Fluff, Attempt at Humor, Mpreg, Fix-It of Sorts)
13B)
Become Tomorrow by ShanaStoryteller (Not Rated, 39k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Cloud Recesses Study Arc, WWX is BSSR’s disciple) WWX is BSSR's disciple
Can't Tell Me Nothin by natacup82 (T, 35k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Everybody Lives, Family Feels, Communication, BAMF Women)
Ghosts Shouldn’t by ShanaStoryteller (Not Rated, 15k, WangXian, Grief/Mourning, Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending)
13C)
Love Me Just A Little by mostlynonsense (travelingpsycho) (T, 16k, WangXian, Modern, Family Feels, Fake Dating (But Married), Happy Ending, Established Relationship)
Me and my husband (we are doing better) by like_a_bird_that_flew (G, 5k, WangXian, Modern AU, Yanli's POV, Fluff, Coming Out, Family Feels, Light Angst, Attempt at Humor, Established Relationship, Unresolved Emotional Tension, It's mostly super fluffy though dw, Family, Romance) secret marriage
Here everyone knows you're the way to my heart by like_a_bird_that_flew (T, 4k, WangXian, Modern AU, Coming Out, Angst and Humor, Mostly chill though, Family Feels, POV Alternating, Established Relationship) secret relationship (not married yet)
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14. Hello, would you be a dear and suggest me some fics? I'm in the mood for fics where there's little wwx and little lwj, but especially little wwx being adorably cute and getting a lot of love. Even more lovelier if little lwj got interested in little wwx early on. Basically I want kiddos wwx & lwj. Thank you very much and have a nice day, dearest.
Noodle-Xian and Fluff-Ji Series by meyari (G, 10k, WangXian, JFM/YZY, Kid Fic, Shifter, Fluff, Dragon WWX, Bunny LWJ, bunny lwj, Shifter AU, dragon wwx, Discussion of Serious Injury, discussion of curses) Also very fluffy (literally and figuratively) with animal transformation
#FreePalestine | a birthday treat! by gentil-minou (Flyingsuits) (G, 7k, wangxian, Pre-Canon, Canon Compliant, Different First Meeting, Kid Fic, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, WWX's Birthday, Birthday Fluff, Friendship, Childhood Friends, Street Kid WWX, i wish there was a tag for fluffy angst:, you'll want to laugh and squeal through the tears at the same time, i would give the entire world for little a-ying i swear it, LWJ was born ready to care for and feed and nurture and love WWX)
a hop, skip, and a jump to you by gentil-minou (Flyingsuits) (G, 6k, wangxian, Magic AU, Witches, Shapeshifting, Rabbit LWJ, Rabbit WWX, Fluff, Childhood Friends, Just two bunny boys growing and learning together and being just so gosh darn cute, Tooth-Rotting Fluff)
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15. I’m in the mood for a fic with a Wangxian marriage gone wrong. Like Wangxian is perfectly happy but the cultivation world is not and try to kill them about it. @apparently-i-am-an-adult
Concord by Deastar (T, 41k, WangXian, Arranged Marriage, Gūsū Lán Sect Rules, Depression, Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending)
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16. Hello and thank you as always to the incredible mods and hive mind community of Wangxian Fic Finder! I've got an ITMF request:
With Wei Wuxian being the undeniable powerhouse of the Sunshot Campaign, it makes sense that Wen Ruohan would make an effort to take him off the board, one way or another. ITMF fics where Wei Wuxian is targeted by the Wens during Sunshot: he's lured into a trap on the battlefield, targeted by an assassin in camp, an attempted kidnapping, whatever. (No Jiang sibling bashing please). Excited for the recommendations! @flamingwell
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17. hiii! itmf for possessive lan wangji? thank you!
A Matter of Time series by mrcformoso (E, 70 k, WangXian, Time Travel Fix-It, POV LWJ, POV JC, Dark LWJ, Manipulation, Grooming, WangXian Get a Happy Ending, Consensual Underage Sex, Except problematic please read warning in first chapter, Blood and Violence, Insane LWJ, Manic LWJ, Conditioning, WWX is a Lán, Minor Character Death, Confused JC, Golden Core Reveal, Good Friend NHS, WWX Isn’t Adopted by the Jiāngs, Abusive Jiāng Family, Jiāng Family Bashing, Jiāng Family Critical, POV NHS, Dark NHS, Anal Sex, Marathon Sex, Dual Cultivation, Qīnghéng-jūn Lives, LWJ Has a Big Dick, WWX Self-Lubricates, Plot Twists, Porn With Plot, Scheming NHS, Manipulative NHS, BAMF LWJ, BAMF WWX) link in #5 Also works for this as LWJ is about as possessive as you can get
🧡 Stunted, Starving Juvenility by TomatenMark (E, 712k, WangXian, WIP, Fix-it of sorts, Talisman master WWX, Not JFM Friendly, Study Arc, Getting together, Fluff and Angst, Engagement) LWJ is pretty possessive in this
That Time Wei Wuxian Fell In Love With His First Officer And Didn't Even Realize by seungchxn (E, 9k, WangXian, Star Trek Fusion, Captain WWX, First Officer LWJ, Vulcan Mind Melds, Vulcan Kisses, Fluff and Smut, Eventual Smut, Anal Sex, Anal Fingering, Hand Jobs, Hand & Finger Kink, Alien Biology, Mind Meld, Mutual Pining, First Time, First Kiss, Falling In Love, True Love, Soulmates, Accidental Marriage, Unrequited Love, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Oblivious WWX, WWX is a Little Shit, WWX is Bad at Feelings, Possessive LWJ, LWJ is Whipped, LWJ is a Panicked Gay, The Inherent Eroticism of Holding Hands)
Teacher's Pet by anobtra by (animeobsessedtrash) (E, 43k, WangXian, Modern AU, College/University, Age Difference, Professor WWX, Student LWJ, Degradation, mild stalking, thigh riding, WWX Talks Dirty, Frottage, Mutual Masturbation, Anal Sex, Anal Fingering, Bottom LWJ, Top WWX, Coming Untouched, Orgasm Delay/Denial, LWJ is a Brat, Consent is Sexy, Begging, Hand Jobs, Blow Jobs, Exhibitionism, Voyeurism, Teasing, Hair-pulling, Semi-Public Sex, Masturbation, Consensual Sex, Rough Sex, Dry Humping, everyone is of-age, Barebacking, Possessive Behavior ,Porn With Plot, Jerk Off Instructions, Service Top WWX, just a lil bit Protective LWJ, Pining LWJ, Light Humiliation, Possessive WWX, Bottom LWJ/Top WWX, Possessive LWJ, Intercrural Sex) pls mind tags!
Howling for You by Runningbarefoot (E, 8k, WangXian, Fluff and Smut, dragon lwj, fox wwx, Possessive LWJ, Dom/sub Undertones, Fantasy, Biting, Anal Sex, horny wangxian, not really explicit I'm just playing it safe, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, kidnapped WWX, Happy Ending, Attempt at Humor, Twitter threadfic, Porn With Plot, dramatic declarations of love, shameless wwx, Light-Hearted)
These Mortal Treasures by ChilianXianzi (T, 9k, WangXian, Fantasy, Canon Divergence, Dragon LWJ, Rogue Cultivator WWX, Possessive LWJ, Domestic Fluff, implied eggpreg, Dragonji's hoard is 1 (one) weiying, The Cultivation World's canonical fuckery, eggyuan!, Gift Giving)
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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!***
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glapplebloom · 2 years ago
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A Scooby Doo Series without Scooby Doo…
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First new series of the year and let’s make it a series that actually premiered in 2023. It is a Mindy Kaling take on the origins of Scooby Doo. I don’t know who Mindy Kaling is (unless you were a wrestler my knowledge on actors is extremely limited), but if this writing is anything to go by I may not like her work. And it’s not because it’s a race-swap thing. It’s because it doesn’t really seem to respect the source material it’s doing. So let me take you through the episode so you can decide for yourself if you want to watch this or not.
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The first episode begins with a gratuitous shower scene of naked girls (including Daphne) talking about how the first episode tends to have gratuitous sex scenes to hook viewers. It’s one of those jokes. Also, these girls are all likely under 18. Then Velma attacks Daphne while wearing a disguise. Of course, anyone who knows it is Velma. Apparently the two used to be friends but not anymore. And the disguise was because she didn’t want to shower with the other girls. And they find a dead body in Velma’s locker room.
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Velma is the prime suspect because the show wants us to think she’s weird and the cops (Daphne’s Lesbian Parents) are incompetent and not because we first see her attacking Daphne unprovoked. So to not be sent to jail, Velma has 24 hours to solve the mystery. But she gets panic attacks because apparently her mother went missing on Christmas because she got so good at solving mysteries and her mother disappeared to get her a new Christmas gift.
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Fred is your stereotypical privileged white guy who doesn’t seem to remember Velma’s name or even race and despite that, Velma has an obvious crush on him. We find out Velma’s father remarried the Malt Shop owner and the entire School now knows she’s the Prime Suspect. Like it is extremely hard to find a likable character so far. But after storming out of the Malt Shop (she was forced to work there), she finds Fred again.
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In a surprising move, he listened to Velma’s story and even remembered her name. But baby steps as he leaves when a car comes seemingly to run them over. But it was a false alarm as it was Norville, the Shaggy stand-in of this series. He’s hardcore crushing on Velma and she’s so oblivious to it, she thinks his confession is a joke. I totally expect a scene in the later series of her explaining how someone is unable to notice someone who obviously likes them and its Velma saying this to Norville.
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Anyway, he has a potential clue. The victim had his camera because he asked her to take pictures. So whoever likely has a camera is the likely culprit. And since her step-mother got a new camera when they couldn’t afford it, she thinks it’s her. But when she finds baby pictures, we see another Panic Attack that her Step-Mother identified and helped pull Velma out of it. We then revealed Velma’s memories of her mother are not accurate and she likely just left them. After trying to (admittedly) look hot and Fred of all people sticking up for him (yes, I know what I said) a confrontation with Daphne makes Fred Velma’s next suspect.
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After breaking into his house, she finds the camera. While she didn’t see any “steamy” pictures of Fred with someone else, there were pictures. Fred is apparently a late bloomer, so he hides his shame. And before he can do to Velma what he could do to the victim, the cops come in and shoot him in the legs. He gets arrested because it looked like it was a murder scene when in reality Fred was going to write a check for secrecy and to keep the evidence. It ends with Velma thinking her mother did care for them and she is out there somewhere when they find another dead body with the same MO.
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Overall, there is a good show in all this. The animation looks really good. Velma’s voice actor is really good and could be a great Velma in the future, there are some extremely small hints of greater depth with these and I think there was at least one funny joke. But unlike the Powerpuff Girls reboot, I don’t think it's worth trying to comb through it to find. A lot of the jokes are pretty bad. Like Norville saying “I don’t like drugs” and the scene pauses . Or “yeah, I heard rumors I’m a lesbian”. It’s like the most surface level Scooby Doo jokes surrounded by pointless violence and meta jokes. If you changed the characters names, maybe it could be better, but as a Scooby Doo property it’s not a good fit.
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And since everyone is comparing it to Harley Quinn, you know why the extreme difference between the source material and the show works? Because EVERYONE is insane in that series. Joker, Harley, even Batman and Gordon are nuts in the comics and it makes sense for the direction they’re going. Velma is a smart character who claims is good at solving mysteries but even with the panic attacks doesn’t really show she’s all that good. I bet I can predict the culprit in the end of the series: her mother who wanted to frame her family.
This is why I created One Shot. Because I gave it a shot, and now I’m going to ignore it for the rest of my life outside people posting out of context clips on Twitter or youtube.
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mix it up a little bit
like, I get it, shipping is often just the most engaging, you want fics filled with tension and I don't want every aspec character to be a mom friend or a big bro or depicted as heartless either, but show me variety, show me that those characters are being weird about it, let them have non-standard relationships, just a crumb of relationship anarchy, please
a couple that fucks, but they just don't catch feelings for each other, no jealousy plot, maybe they go exclusive for safety and convenience reasons, perhaps they're even roommates, but they don't care for that hand holding shit, if somebody asks them if they are or will date/ "be official" at some point, they're like "nah, not into that" and they just vibe, it's just slice of life with a good helping of smut, they can netflix and chill, but they have a rule about staying out of each other's way in the kitchen, they don't kiss outside of the bed, neither of them wants anything "more"
a super mushy touchy-feely married ship but they don't share a bed, in fact, they have separate bedrooms because they need all that space to themselves to got good sleep at night, different blanket needs, they have date nights every week and waltz on the regular, all their friends think they're disgusting and tell them to get a room, meanwhile they're of the variety that finds exchanging spit gross and mostly keeps it at little pecks for goodbyes and greetings, they make up for it in quantity
dude who's just there in the poly ship, like, he's just hanging out, but they would never leave him out, he's not even helpful, it's just their critter that chews through some wires but they still love him
ship that is gratuitously indulging in a weird niche kink but it doesn't involve actual intercourse at any point
co-dependent besties that get very unhealthily possessive, but don't have any intention of dating each other, just hate the idea of the other dating someone, gotta be each other's most important people, you will not leave me ...right?
meet cute - developing relationship type scenario but instead of romantic tension the thing growing is the conviction that they'd rather be friends, but they don't know how to naturally transition from the weird stage they're in to that and they're surrounded by people excited about them finally having a love life and what if they can't do that now that they set up the flirty expectation at the beginning
parody of mutual pining cliches where a friendship is almost ruined because of a misunderstanding where they're both scared that the other has a crush and they avoid confronting that because rejection will most likely put distance between them, but they don't want to date, but they don't know how much longer of this tension they can handle, they just want things to be how they used to be. The anxiety makes them act stupid and further the spiral. Outside people are obviously not helping the case. Someone probably tells them they're just oblivious to their own feelings and stressing out so much because they do care. Maybe this is actually an autistic horror story sold as a comedy.
it is absolutely so absurd how shipping culture has made people feel like every single aroace character must be romance and sex favorable and its a normal thing to insist to real aspec people that its not disrespectful to mass headcanon every aspec character as favorable. yes yes youre very woke for knowing that aros can date and aces can have sex but maybe its not cool that you cant handle a character that doesnt want those things and should be understood in a way that isnt via a pairing
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