#please be a temporary au name.... Please be temporary..

[azureasterart]

Gladion hates parties and shit his mom makes him wear clothes he hates and he has to be around people. But Moon is here and tomorrow's her birthday so maybe he won't run off somewhere and hide,,,,, ig,,,,

[vypridae]

have my designs for them

[the-sky-queen]

Pull the strings and I will perform . . .

CAN WE MIND CONTROL THIS BOY PRETTY PLEASE?

[navybrat817]

Deep in the Woods: Part 1

Pairing: Soft!Dark Lumberjack!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Fic Summary: A relaxing getaway in the woods may become your permanent home when you catch the eye of a lumberjack.

Series Masterlist | Part 2

Chapter Summary: You encounter your grumpy temporary neighbor while attempting to chop some firewood.

Chapter Word Count: Over 3.3k

Chapter Warnings: DARK AU, bits of MCU canon, cheating mentioned (reader's ex), grumpy x sunshine trope, invasive behavior, reader is too trusting, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning and a bit rude at first, okay?), more warnings to come.

A/N: A new dark AU inspired by @darkficsyouneveraskedfor 's ask. ❤️‍🔥 Thanks to @targaryenvampireslayer for cheering me on! ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby , but any and all mistakes are my own. Bucky edit by the beautiful @nixakimbo . Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

The sun shining in the sky was deceiving as you hauled a large piece of wood to the tree trunk. It was chillier than expected, and the cold would only get worse once the sun went down. Your cabin had heat, but you'd be stuck if it went out and you didn’t manage to chop some firewood. Making a fire you could handle. Chopping wood?

That was another story.

“Okay,” you smiled, setting the log upright and adjusting your gloves before you grabbed the axe. You gripped the handle tight, raising it above your head. “I got this.”

The blade hit the log almost dead center. Unsurprisingly though, it barely pierced the wood. You hunched over, tugging at the axe, nearly losing your balance in the process. “I still got this,” you huffed, shaking out your arms and swinging again.

The next swing went deeper, but only by an inch. The swing after that, you nearly missed completely. Sweat beaded on your forehead, your body warming despite the chill in the air. After a moment, you dropped the axe and stared at the log with your hands on your hips. It was nowhere near split.

“I don’t got this,” you sighed.

“Who the hell are you?��� a gruff voice asked from behind you.

Your heart leapt to your throat as you spun around, and it raced even faster when you spotted a figure just a few feet away. He was a large man, and one of the most handsome men you had ever seen. He would likely tower over you if he stepped closer. His dark hair hung messily past his shoulders, while his perfectly trimmed beard gave him a rugged edge. The flannel he wore strained against the biceps of his muscular arms, one of the shades of blue matching his thunderous eyes.

Was he glaring at you?

“Hi,” you smiled, trying to sound friendly as you gestured toward the unchopped log. “I was just trying, and failing, to chop some firewood. I hope I'm not disturbing you.”

He kicked a small twig away with his boot. “I didn't ask what you were doing. I asked, ‘Who the hell are you?’”

Your smile slipped. Maybe he was local and didn't like outsiders, though something about him seemed familiar. “Oh, yeah. Right,” you said, giving him your name and nodding to the cabin nearby. “Mr. Hunter rented the place out to me. I’m staying for a couple of weeks. Just got here this morning.” You hoped the place wasn't double booked.

He relaxed a fraction, but his glare didn't disappear completely as he took out his phone and dialed a number. You heard a ring as he put it on speaker. While he tapped a foot impatiently, you weren't sure what to say or do.

“Howdy, neighbor,” a raspy voice answered on the other end.

“Did you rent out your place?” he asked, keeping his eyes on you when your face got hot. You wanted to yell that you wouldn't lie about something like that, but that didn't seem like a good idea.

“Yeah. Pretty lady. Paid in full upfront. Clean background, too.” You looked at your feet. It was weird to listen in even though it was on speaker. And did he say “clean background”? What did that mean? “Why? Is she-”

The man hung up the phone. “Didn't think he rented his cabin out anymore,” he said more to himself than you.

An awkward silence filled the air. “Yeah, well, apparently he does. I booked it a couple of months ago and he left a code to get in and some instructions for the place,” you explained, trying to smile again as you looked around and breathed in the fresh air. “It’s a really nice place and the view up here is gorgeous, like something out of a photograph. Do you live nearby?”

He grunted and jutted his chin out. “My cabin is the next one over to the left.”

“That’s nice,” you smiled more, grabbing the axe again. “And it was very interesting meeting you, temporary neighbor, but I should try to finish this up.”

Before you could blink, the man was directly in front of you with one hand on the handle. He was even bigger up close. “If you’re thinking of taking another swing at that log, don't,” he barked at you, snatching the axe from your hands. You weren’t sure if it was his tone or him grabbing it from you that made you flinch. “This isn't a toy, it’s dangerous. And from the looks of that log you have no business trying to do that to begin with.”

Your cheeks burned again. It was bad enough that this guy didn't take your word for staying at the cabin, but the last thing you needed was for some stranger to lecture or humiliate you, and a grumpy one at that. “Yeah, well, if my cheating asshole of a boyfriend hadn't been balls deep in his colleague, we wouldn't be having this conversation. He'd be out here chopping firewood and I’d be inside cooking, which is something I'm actually good at, thank you very much,” you snapped.

Your tone surprised him enough to let you take the axe back. “I didn't…” he trailed off when you held up a hand.

“You don't know me and that’s fine, but I’m trying to be friendly and that's more than you can say,” you continued, his nostrils flaring. He didn't have to be nice to you, but he didn't need to be rude either. “And not that it’s any of your business, but I'm stuck here by myself, I’m trying my best to make it work, and I don't need some random stranger out here giving me a hard time for no reason.”

Your eyes burned as he stared at you, but you squared your shoulders and held your head high. You spent enough time crying over a prick who wasn’t worth it and you refused to shed another tear because you deserved better than an unfaithful asshole. And you sure as hell wouldn't cry in front of some hot grump with a chip on his shoulder.

The man’s pensive look dissipated more of your sudden anger and his tone softened considerably when he asked, “You’re really out here by yourself?”

You tensed up. It wasn't smart of you to broadcast that you were all by your lonesome. “Yeah, for now,” you said, your voice softer, too. Maybe you could convince a friend to stop by for a day or so. “I know I’m not good with an axe, but I tried. I just wanted some firewood in case the heat went out for any reason,” you said, your shoulders sagging. “So if you don't mind, can I please finish up?”

He nodded, taking the axe more gently this time. “Let me,” he offered, your eyes wide at his change in demeanor. “And step back. I don't want you to get hurt.”

Once you moved out of the way, he lifted the axe and split the log down the middle with expert precision. With his view on the task at hand, you swept an appreciative gaze over him. The guy was a bit of a grump, but he filled his jeans out well. “I’m sorry I snapped at you, mister,” you told him, getting a grunt in response. “My problems aren't your problems and I didn't mean to get so defensive about my lack of wood chopping skills.”

“You can call me Bucky,” he said, grabbing another log. “And nothing to be sorry for. I didn't exactly lay out the welcome mat for you.”

“It’s… Wait, Bucky.” Your eyes widened in realization. “Bucky Barnes?”

He froze before he brought the axe down again. “Heard of me?”

“Of course I have. You helped save the world,” you smiled. Years back, an alien warlord had wiped out half of the population. Not only did a group of heroes called the Avengers help reverse the wipeout, but they stopped the monster with the help of many others across the galaxy. Bucky was one of those people. No wonder he seemed so familiar. “You’re a hero.”

A tortured one at that. You remembered seeing a few articles about him. A former prisoner of war turned brainwashed assassin turned hero. He was pardoned for the crimes committed while was brainwashed, and rightfully so in your opinion, and he went on to use his skills and expertise to help others.

What was he doing out here in the woods?

“Not really a hero anymore,” he said, brushing his hair back with his forearm. “Now I’m just a lumberjack who values his privacy.”

“Oh.” That answered your question. “I guess valuing your privacy explains why you didn't roll out the welcome mat,” you teased, wringing your fingers together. You felt kind of bad again for snapping at him. Given his past that you were aware of, it made sense why he would've been suspicious of someone new popping up near his home.

He stopped to glance at you. “Guess it’s my turn to apologize,” he said.

You blinked, not wanting to lose yourself in his deep gaze. “No need. I figured you were just a local who didn't like new people around.” You smiled at the pile of wood he made. “I think you chopping firewood for me is the perfect apology. You saved me a lot of time and trouble.”

He hummed, putting the blade in the tree trunk once he finished. “You said you cook?” he asked, wiping his gloves on his jeans as he faced you.

“Yeah. I actually have a stew keeping warm right now,” you replied, shifting on your feet when he stared you down. “Are you hungry? I made plenty.”

“Sure,” he shrugged.

“Okay.” Your smile faltered when you walked toward the cabin with Bucky close behind. Was it a good idea to invite him in when you didn't exactly know him? The guy was a hero though. No reason to be suspicious.

The aroma of seasonings, beef, and vegetables greeted you as you opened the door and set your gloves on the entry table. “If you don’t mind taking your boots off, that was one of the instructions,” you told him, removing yours and hanging your coat on the hook.

While the cabin wasn’t large, it was in great condition. It was also extremely clean and tidy. The guy who owned it likely didn’t want dirt on his floors.

“Yeah, God’s kind of picky about that stuff,” Bucky said, putting his gloves on top of yours. You caught a glimpse of his metal hand, but you quickly looked away. It wasn’t polite to stare.

“Wait. The G in G.B. Hunter stands for God?” Your brows pinched as you walked toward the kitchen. “What the hell does the B stand for?” you muttered to yourself.

“That’s really what it stands for. He’s a bit of a strange guy, but a good neighbor when he’s here,” Bucky said, following close again. He was practically on top of you. “So, your boyfriend. He-”

“Ex-boyfriend,” you corrected him, inhaling deeply as you lifted the lid from the warm pot. The scent brought a smile to your face and pushed a bit of the bitterness away. “What about him?”

Bucky grabbed a couple of bowls from the cupboard. He knew where the spoons were, too, so he was at least somewhat familiar with the place. You weren’t sure how that made you feel. “How long were you two together?”

“Almost a year,” you replied. A waste of about twelve months and it wouldn't be fun to start over again.

He set the bowls on the counter before he grabbed a couple of drinks, sweeping a look over you. “Did you catch him cheating?” he asked curiously.

You froze, the image of your ex scrambling to cover himself and his colleague up as you walked in taking over your mind. You had to blink multiple times to make the image go away, but it didn’t stop your stomach from turning. “Yep,” you answered, your throat tight. Why did he want to know? “Tried to give me some lame excuse that it wasn't what it looked like, but I slapped him and said we were done. I can forgive a lot of things, but cheating isn’t one of them.”

“Loyalty is a good trait to want in a partner,” he mused.

“It is, but it’s a trait he didn't have apparently. At least we didn’t live together,” you continued, taking a breath. It hurt and felt good to talk about it. “We were supposed to come up here for a getaway and I debated cancelling the reservation, but I figured it would be a good way to clear my head.”

The kitchen felt warmer and you figured it was because you were close to the stove until you realized Bucky was right at your back. You went rigid when he inhaled. Maybe he was just smelling the food. “I’m sorry you had to go through that,” he whispered, his breath hot against your ear.

You gripped the ladle until your hand ached. “Not your fault,” you whispered, keeping perfectly still. If you moved forward, the stove would burn you. If you moved back, you’d be right against him. It was a small kitchen, but there was no reason for him to stand so close.

You didn’t exhale until he moved to set the drinks on the table. “You got a job?” he asked.

Clearing your throat, you nodded, thankful for the change in topic. “Yeah, data entry. Not too exciting, but it’s decent pay and I don’t have to go into an office or deal with traffic.” You scooped a generous portion of stew into a bowl for him, just in case he was really hungry. “As long as I have my laptop and an internet connection, I can get the job done.”

“Must be nice,” he commented, but it sounded more admirable than sarcastic. “You said you and your ex didn’t live together. Do you have a roommate? Pets?”

You side-eyed him. The tone was casual, but what was with the multiple questions? “I live alone because my apartment is about the size of a shoebox,” you said. It was cozy though and yours. “Nice thing is the rent is cheap. Sad thing is the building is pet free.”

He took out his phone as you got your bowl ready. “I have a cat,” he said, shoving the phone close to your face. It was a photo of a beautiful white cat sitting by a window. It was endearing picturing a burly man holding such a delicate creature. “Her name’s Alpine.”

You smiled at the image. “She’s really beautiful. I’ve always loved cats.”

He smiled a little, too, but it went away as fast as it appeared. “She’s very particular with people, but you’re welcome to meet her.” He took the bowl from your hand to carry them to the small table nearby. “She might like you since you’re sweet.”

Heat rolled up your neck. “That’s nice of you to offer, but I wouldn’t want to impose,” you said. It wasn’t like you had any plans during your time there, but he had done enough by chopping the firewood for you.

His jaw ticked. “If it was an imposition I wouldn't have asked.”

“Oh, I wasn't trying to imply anything,” you promised, your stomach twisting in knots. It wasn't your intention to upset him.

“Are you allergic to cats?”

“No, I’m not,” you answered.

He set the bowls on the table and leveled you with a hard stare. “Then I think you should meet her,” he said, pulling out a chair for you. It sounded more like an order than a suggestion. “Sit.”

You hesitated before you sat down. “Okay then,” you said. Maybe he was trying to make up for being rude earlier by welcoming you in some capacity. “Does tomorrow work?”

His lip curled up in a smile, giving you a nod, too. “Tomorrow. Early afternoon,” he replied, taking a seat. How did he still look so big sitting down? You watched him blow on a spoonful of stew before he took a bite, his eyes shutting with a groan. It was a deep, primal sound and you shouldn't have liked hearing it. “This is… really good.”

You beamed, unable to help yourself. You took pride in your cooking. “I’m glad you like it,” you said, digging in, too. “So, you said you’re a lumberjack now. How long have you been doing that?”

He hunched over a bit as he took a few more bites, like he hadn't eaten all day. “About nine months. Tough mission happened and I had to walk away from it.” He shrugged dismissively. Did the mission have a bad outcome or was it just the straw that broke the camel’s back? It wasn’t any of your business. “Came out to the woods with Alpine, started chopping down trees to work out some of my frustration, and it somehow became my new job. The woods suit me better than the city anyway.”

“Yeah? How so?”

He shrugged again. “It’s quiet, peaceful. No judging or prying eyes,” he answered, pushing the now empty bowl away. It almost sounded like he was hiding from the world. “And I don’t mind working with my hands. Can chop trees down pretty fast and it doesn’t take long to get the logs to the sawmill. Even built some of my own furniture in my place.”

“You build your own furniture? That’s so cool,” you smiled. It took a moment, but he smiled back a little. “Being a lumberjack sounds like hard but satisfying work,” you added. You admired him for being a hero, but also for his new, humble lifestyle.

“Yeah, it is.” He leaned back in his chair, rubbing his stomach. “This might be rude to ask, but you wouldn’t mind making us lunch tomorrow, would you? I can cook, but it’s nothing like yours.”

You bit the inside of your cheek. Part of you took it as a compliment that he liked your cooking, but something in his stare made you want to squirm. Could it be the assumption that you were going to have lunch with him when all he said was that he wanted you to meet his cat? “I don’t mind,” you smiled. Maybe the guy was a bit lonely and just wanted someone to share a meal with. You could sympathize with that. “Anything in particular you like? If I don’t have it, I can go to town and-”

“Surprise me, doll.” The chair scraped along the floor as he pushed himself up, towering over the table and you. “And don’t bother going to town. Whatever you have here to cook, I’ll eat it.”

“I’ll surprise you then.” Your brows pinched as he went back to the kitchen. He walked around like he owned the place. “Oh, help yourself,” you said when he stopped at the stove for another bowl.

He paused to look back at you. His blue eyes looked a shade darker and you couldn’t help but shiver. “I plan to,” he stated.

You gave him a smile, discreetly patting your pants pocket to make sure you still had your phone on you. It wasn’t like you needed to call anyone for help, but you were all alone and had to be careful. You were still going to have a nice time though. It would be a relaxing trip and you could catch up on reading, relaxing, whatever you wanted.

Besides, Bucky was nearby just in case. The guy didn’t seem to have a complete sense of boundaries, but he wasn’t a bad guy. He was a hero. You didn’t have anything to fear.

Right?

Oh, our reader did herself no favors by answering truthfully that she's all alone. I wonder how Bucky will play this... Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[comatosebunny09]

cotton candy clouds | sylus

summary: you guilt-trip sylus into taking you to the carnival. you get caught up in more than just the festivities, hidden feelings finally coming to light. genres: romance, fluff, minor angst warnings: kissing, unrequited (not really) feelings, tender touches, pet names, incredibly self indulgent, profanity, cheesy af, fuck fate notes: limerence au, but a little less pain. now playing: siren guitar - carlos carty

Well, it seemed like a good idea. 

Until it wasn’t. 

You see, the boardwalk wasn’t too far of a walk from your bungalow. You saw the Ferris Wheel gleaming in the near distance from the passenger window of Sylus’ rental. Caught sight of it on the ride back after spending the morning with him.

The carnival beckoned to you. Taking you was the least Sylus could do after torturing you with restricting dresses and uncomfortable heels all weekend. And he could sweeten the deal by winning you a plushie and stuffing you full of cotton candy. 

Sylus relented with a chuckle, pulling the car into the carport. Good on you for suggesting you travel on foot to the boardwalk after you dropped your bags at the house. He looked like he wanted to contest you, gaze turned skyward like he knew something was amiss. Instead, he shrugged and settled his dark shades onto his face, following your lead. 

The carnival was lively. 

It smelled of funnel cake, smoked turkey legs, and lubed machinery. People milled about, their glee staining the stratosphere. Carnies coerced you into trying for prizes. You had an armful of colorful plushies with a grin to match by mid-afternoon, courtesy of your boss and his impeccable aim. 

If you hadn't known any better, you swore you were on a date. But you knew that could never be, given the state of your relationship and your position in Sylus’ life. 

You were halfway through a candied apple when Mother Nature decided, ah, that’s enough fun. 

The sky, once a bright cyan with a golden sun pinned to its center, gave way to ominous, dark gray clouds. Thunder followed, and eventually, the nimbus clouds opened up to pelt the boardwalk below with its glacial downpour.

You scattered along with the other carnival goers, Sylus in tow, the spoils of your endeavor forgotten. On the race back to the bungalow, he grabbed your hand, and you laughed like two carefree adolescents as he tugged you across the sand to your temporary lodging. 

You were breathless when you reached the porch, shoving into the warm sanctity of the entryway with a “Hurry, hurry!”

It was quiet inside. 

The light pouring in through the sliding doors and windows illuminated the stilled space. Your teeth chattered as Sylus helped divest you of your clothes in the living room. Such a gentleman, his gaze never dipping past your collarbones as he tore his sweater from his shoulders. He left you briefly, taking his warmth with him to light a fire beneath the mantle. 

Clad only in your undergarments, you pawed at him, giggling amid your shivering when he came back to drape you in an oversized throw. 

He led you to the high-pile rug in front of the fire. Sat down cross-legged, drawing you into his lap. He shrouded the pair of you in the throw blanket, his arms encasing your middle, hands smoothing over your arms to ward off the cold.

For a while, you sat like that, watching the fire kindle. Chuckling, panting, and existing in the moment until your shared quivering abated, and only the rhythm of your even breaths, the crackling fire logs, and distant waves crashing against the shore colored the air. 

Even now, you sit like this, still housed in Sylus’ lap and arms, his chin notched in the hollow of your shoulder. He absently rocks your body side to side, his occasional pleased hum vibrating your spine.

You’re no longer a sopping, chattering mess. You’re much warmer than before, Sylus’ proximity causing your cheeks to prickle with heat. You don’t want to disrupt the mood that’s descended onto your shoulders. Ignore the complicated thoughts and feelings that burble to the surface, threatening to bare themselves in the face of your peace. 

He feels too good. Smells even better, the scent of his cologne easing the tension from your shoulders. And a glance at him in your periphery reveals his lashes fluttering, eyes closed in what you assume is contentedness. You study him for a beat or two, ingesting the peachy tone stippling his cheek and the pretty curl of his lips. He looks so boyish and unguarded this way, his hair falling into his face, and you find yourself wanting to see this side of him more often.

“You look like you want to say something,” he teases through a smile, thumb cruising over the skin of your belly.

You shake your head no, eyes wide like you’ve been caught rifling through the cookie jar. 

His hold on you stiffens the slightest. “Am I making you uncomfortable?” He moves to pull away, but you quickly ensnare his wrists with your hands, quietly imploring him to stay. He acquiesces, holding to you a little tighter. Nuzzles a little more affectionately, inhaling deep the warm aroma of your skin.

“What’s on your mind,” he queries on an exhale, tenderness lancing through his question. He almost sounds like he’s afraid to scare you off. Afraid to let you go, swept up in the spell of the moment and the sensation of your body against his.

Your lips pull into a rigid, thoughtful line. Your pulse thrums in your ears, and you rub cautious thumbs over the veins pulsing in Sylus’ hands as you study the geometric patterns of the rug. Sighing, you figure it’s best to broach the subject now rather than let it fester.

“Is this alright?” you timidly ask. Uncharacteristic of you, but in light of everything that’s transpired since he whisked you away on this impromptu vacation, you’ve become even more confused and unsure of yourself.

Sylus shifts, drawing back until you feel his eyes on the side of your face. In the corner of your vision, he cants his head quizzically, lips parting.

“What do you mean?”

The angle is awkward, your neck straining. But you turn as best you can to look at him, and the puzzled pinch of his brows makes your chest tighten. 

“I mean, us being this…close. Is it really okay?” Your question hangs in the air like the pop and fizz of the fire. You watch his Adam’s Apple bob whilst he swallows, and he scrutinizes you, the cogs in his mind slowly turning. 

“Is this a problem? Because if I’m making you uncomfortable, sweetheart—”

“Sylus, that’s…that’s not what I mean.”

He watches your lips tremble. Expression still reads like he has no idea what you’re on about. He strokes up your arm, encouraging you to elaborate. With another weighted sigh pushing through your nostrils, you relent.

“I mean, like…what the hell are we doing here?” Try as you like to mask your frustration, bits and pieces of it leak into your words. You clench your fists in your lap, brows furrowing as your eyes burn and glaze over with the threat of tears. “Why did you bring me here? The last few days have been so… wonderful and confusing, and I—I just wanna know where I stand with you.”

The past weekend with your boss has played out like a dream. 

It began when Sylus snatched you away from the arctic darkness of the N109 Zone in favor of something brighter, more low-key. Wanted you to take a load off after employing you for so long. To show his appreciation for you laying your life on the line for him each day.

He bought you gifts at every turn. Said things that thoroughly derailed your perception of him. Touched you in ways that, although weren’t sexual in nature, lit a fire within you and gave you an inkling of hope. Hope that he cared for you as much as you pined for him despite his history with the Hunter. 

You knew it wasn’t right to covet him like that. But you couldn’t help yourself, and how he’d been behaving since you arrived on the island only worsened matters. He treated you like a lover more than his subordinate, and you needed—no, deserved—an explanation for the sudden shift in tone. 

“I thought it was obvious,” he half-chuckles, shaking his head whilst pinching the bridge of his nose. 

As if you’re the problem here.

You make a sound. Maneuver yourself in his lap to get a better look at him, fixing him with a perturbed look. Explain, demands the quirk of your brows. 

“Well, it’s been brought to my attention that maybe I haven’t been completely clear with my intentions.” 

Sylus shifts you around in his lap until you’re straddling him, your legs framing his hips, wrists instinctively crossing behind his neck. He drapes his arms about your waist, a wide, possessive hand at the small of your back to hold you in place. He peers at you with all the softness of the world, and from your vantage point, you make out the amber flecks nestled between the crimson wash of his irises.

He tilts his head, quietly studying you. Turning over the right words in his mind. “I care about you.” His voice is low and abrasive, but the crackle of it sparks in your chest like steel dragged across a flint stone. 

Your breath hitches, and you watch him with widened eyes and parted lips.

“I care about you. Maybe more than I should. Perhaps more than I deserve to, but I do. And you mean more to me than mere words can illustrate.”

Great. Now you feel absolutely horrible amid the butterflies piling in your stomach. “Sylus—”

He chuckles sardonically, glancing off to the side. “I thought that by bringing you here, I could make it inherently clear how I feel about you. No distractions. No outside forces. Nothing standing between us.”

Unconsciously, you gather his cheeks into your hands. Lure his gaze back to yours, and the look in his eyes makes your stomach somersault. You’ve never seen him so wounded. Like he fears your rejection, yet he’s determined to set the record straight.

Sylus’ voice steeps a few octaves when he closes in, his warm breath fanning over your lashes. You feel dizzy like you would collapse if not for his virile arms keeping you fastened to him. 

“Fate be damned,” he whispers. Molds his hand to the nape of your neck, fingers easing up into the delicate hair that resides there, and you shiver when his gaze slacks to your lips. “You were an oversight—a pleasant oversight. A detour in my plans that I didn’t anticipate. A detour I don’t regret taking.”

His lips graze yours, and you’re panting as pleasant tingles ricochet up your spine.

“You occupy all of my thoughts.” Sigh. “You ruin me,” he husks, sealing your chest to his. “I don’t want anyone else but you. And I know your mind has more than likely convinced you otherwise. But I’m here to say that I truly…” He draws back to kiss the tip of your nose. “Honestly…” Brands the corner of your mouth with the languid drag of his lips. “—pine for no one else. You’re the only person I want in this lifetime.”

“Sylus,” you halfway sob in the slither of space between your mouths, every nerve in your body trained to the feel of him.

“Yes, sweetheart?”

You swallow thickly, your mouth dry, your mind fogging over. “You gonna keep waxing poetic, or are you gonna kiss me?”

He snorts out a laugh at your impatience, cupping your jaw with a tender, sweltering hand. “There is nothing I would like more,” he breathes, luring you closer for a taste of your lips. 

[lunaa-runee]

Ryomen Sukuna gets a new nanny for his son.

Minors DNI. WC: 4.9K

CW: Noncurse AU, DILF!CEO!Sukuna, smut, creampie, implied multiple rounds, kinda mean Sukuna, Sukuna is not great with feelings, broken promises, Yuji is Sukuna's son, there will probably be a part 2 to this story

You glanced up from the crumpled slip of paper in your hand, which bore the address of your new employer. The sleek glass building loomed ahead, reflecting the sunlight in a dazzling display. The hum of the city filled the air, heightening the nervous flutter in your stomach. Taking a deep breath, you pushed through the heavy revolving door, entering this new chapter of your life.

As you entered, you spotted a security guard. He was in his 40s, wearing a simple uniform and donning a hat with bits of his salt and pepper hair sticking out at the bottom. The man offered you a slight smile and said, "Can I help you, ma'am?"

You nodded, "Yes, please. I’m here for Ryomen Sukuna.”

"Could I see your ID miss?" You pulled out your wallet, pulling out and handing over your ID to him. He examined the card silently, peering at you occasionally before turning his attention towards the computer. You nervously twiddled with your fingers as you waited. "Thank you miss l/n. You'll want to take the last elevator down the hall to the right. That is the only one that can take you to the penthouse. Mrs. Ono will meet you at the door."

He handed your ID back. "Okay, thank you."

"Of course, good luck miss. You're gonna need it," he whispered the last bit. His words made you hesitate, a sense of apprehension settling in your gut.

You found the elevator waiting for you. As you stepped inside, you pressed the button to take you to your destination. As the elevator began to rise, a wave of anticipation washed over you, and you instinctively rubbed your sweaty palms against the worn fabric of your jeans.

The elevator's ding announced your arrival, the doors opening to a breathtaking atrium. You stepped, your eyes taking in the stunning entry. A lofty ceiling with a domed skylight flooded the space with natural light. Exquisite stained glass cast colorful patterns on the cream-colored walls, creating an enchanting atmosphere like something from a Bridgerton book.

"Miss l/n?" Your eyes snapped to the double doors opposite the elevator. You had become so mesmerized that you hadn't even paid any attention to the large double doors that entered the residence. A sweet-looking woman in her late 40s or early 50s stood in the doorway. Her outfit was plain, with regular jeans and a tucked-in red polo, with black hair and a few white hairs slicked back into a tight bun. Her smile was genuine as she greeted you. "You're here! I was beginning to believe Mr. Sukuna had scared off every possible nanny the agency had to offer!"

You offer a quick bow. Her words remind you of the doorman's comments. How many nannies has this man employed? "Uh, yes. Hello. You must be Mrs. Ono?"

"I am!" The woman ushered you in, "Come in, please. I'm so happy you're here."

Entering the home, you are welcomed by a spacious entryway with high ceilings, similar to those outside. The apartment features a modern design, with a large staircase leading to the upper level on the right. Just beyond the stairs is the living room, which boasts floor-to-ceiling windows offering a stunning view of the city of Tokyo.

"Welcome! My name is Asami Ono, I am Mr. Sukuna's house keeper," she chuckled. "How about a tour?"

The tour went well, but the condo turned out to be larger than you had expected. It featured a spacious kitchen, living room, and dining room. There were four bedrooms, one of which was yours since you would live there as a nanny. The home was simply decorated and appeared staged, not lived-in. There wasn't even a single photo displayed.

On the tour, you discovered that Mrs. Ono was only meant to be a part-time housekeeper. However, with the sudden departure of the last nanny, she took on the temporary role of caring for Yuji, Ryomen Sukuna's son.

"And here," Ms. Ono paused at a door at the end of the hallway on the second floor. "Is your room."

She opened the door, revealing a spacious bedroom. You entered and placed your luggage by the door, taking in the room's appearance. The room had hardwood floors with a simple gray rug at its center. To the right was a plush queen-sized bed, and to the left was a door that led to a bathroom.

"You have your own bathroom, and Yuji's room is down the room across the hall. Do you have any questions?"

"When will Yuji and Mr. Sukuna arrive?"

"Yuji's at a friend's today. I thought it best that we get you settled in before you meet him," she said simply. "Yuji is a sweet boy, but he can be a handful. As for Mr. Sukuna, his work keeps him busy, but I am sure you'll cross paths with him eventually."

"I see," you hum. This wasn't the first job you had taken with parents that made themselves scarce; it was common in your work.

"Well, if you have no other questions, I will leave you to settle in." She nodded toward the desk in the corner of the room. "Everything you need to know, like Yuji's schedule and food preferences, is on the desk for you. I'll be downstairs preparing dinner if you need anything."

You spent the next couple of hours unpacking and familiarizing yourself with everything you needed to know about your newest client. There was little information about Mr. Sukuna that you didn't already know: he was a single dad and the CEO of a large corporation. Most of the information focused on his son, Yuji. The provided picture showed a young boy with pink hair and a bright smile. According to the schedule and details, he was just your average 4-year-old.

When you made your way downstairs, the sun had begun to set. A delicious and comforting aroma filled the air as you entered the kitchen. "It smells fantastic in here."

Mrs. Ono gave you a warm smile as she continued to stir the contents of the pot. "Good, I hope you're hungry."

"Mrs. Ono, I'm home."

Mrs. Ono wiped her hands on her apron and gave you a small smile before peeking her head around the corner toward the entryway. "Yuji," Mrs. Ono called out. "I have someone I'd like you to meet."

Yuji entered the kitchen, his eyes falling on you with interest. He paused; you could already see the whirlwind of questions he was bursting to ask you behind his bright eyes. "Hello, I'm Yuji."

"Hello Yuji," you crouched down, meeting him at his eye level before smiling. "My name is F/N L/N, but you can call me F/N if you would like."

Mrs. Ono patted Yuji's mop of pink hair as she spoke. "Yuji, this will be your new nanny."

Yuji tilted his head. "Do you like to paint?

"I love to paint," you giggled as you watched Yuji's expression transform into pure excitement, his smile bright as he buzzed with joy.

The evening unfolded smoothly. Mrs. Ono left shortly after dinner, eager to return home to her husband. Yuji was put to bed not long after that.

After spending a few more hours in your room, unwinding and watching a movie, you finally decide to call it a night. You go downstairs to the kitchen for a drink, noticing the light is still on as you go to the kitchen for a drink. Did you forget to turn it off before?

As you rounded the corner to enter the kitchen, you suddenly stopped. Leaning against the counter was a large man. His eyes were closed, and the back of his head rested against a kitchen cabinet. His arms were crossed over his broad chest, as he held a glass of whiskey in his right hand. You could see the black lines of tattoos peeking through his thin dress shirt, and you recognized the familiar shade of pink hair.

Was this Yuji's dad?

Lost in thought, you accidentally bumped into the side table by the kitchen entry. The man's eyes snapped to you.

"Who the hell are you?" he snapped, standing to his full height. His beautiful yet intimidating eyes burned into you from across the room. His lips pressed into a tight line as he waited for your response. "Well?"

You flinched at his harsh tone. "I-I'm the new n-nanny."

Setting down his drink, he saunters towards you. His eyes, intense and unwavering, never leaving you. He reminded you of a predator, and you were the prey.

"So you are my son's new nanny," he said, circling you. "Let's hope you're more competent than the last one."

The familiar beep of your alarm jerked you awake. How was it already morning? You had gotten very little rest, as your mind was filled with thoughts about your new employer—some less than pure thoughts.

With a groan, you threw your covers off your body to begin your day. 

The first thing you did was start the coffee. It would be a long day, and you needed every bit of energy you could get. The sound of the front door caught your attention just as you started breakfast. Conflicting emotions of excitement and a tinge of fear struck you at the possibility of Ryomen Sukuna rounding the corner.

“Hello,” disappointment floods you at the sound of Mrs. Ono’s voice. 

You shake off your disappointment, returning to your task at hand, before calling out to Mrs. Ono. “Hi. I’m in the kitchen!”

The older woman walked into the kitchen smiling, setting her bag on the counter. “Good morning, dear! How was your first night? Did everything go alright?”

“Yes,” you replied. “Yuji was perfect.”

“Ah yes, not surprising. He’s a good boy.”

You nod in agreement, but your thoughts wander to your peculiar encounter with Yuji's father. Despite the briefness of your interaction, you couldn't help but notice the stark contrast between father and son. "Mrs. Ono," you start, feeling uncertain. "Could you tell me more about Mr. Sukuna?"

Mrs. Ono raised a brow, “did something happen?”

"No," you replied almost too quickly, trying to avoid eye contact as you pretended to concentrate entirely on the pancakes you were making. "Well, kind of. I met him last night."

The air grew tense. At first, you were worried you had done something wrong.

“What did he do? Did he say something?” Her normal cheerful tone shifted to something teetering on anger. Still, it was clear the anger was not directed towards you. The response confirmed your suspicions of a possible issue between Ryomen and the previous nannies. 

“He didn’t actually do anything,” you explain the brief interaction to her.

“That man,” she huffed. “Mr. Sukuna is a complicated man with very high standards, especially regarding his son. This has resulted in…difficulties in keeping a long term nanny for Yuji.”

“What kind of difficulties,” you inquire. A feeling of apprehension blooming. 

“If one thing goes wrong, the nanny would be out for some of the most ridiculous reasons. Things such as Yuji getting a scrapped knee at the park or Yuji being upset over something the nanny couldn’t control. Some have just quit, too, after meeting Mr. Sukuna. He can be a bit intimidating, as you can imagine, and temperamental.”

You could imagine. “Why is he so difficult then? How do you handle it?”

“Mr. Sukuna didn’t have it easy growing up, I’m afraid, but that’s all I can really say about that,” a pained expression on her face. “I've known him for many years, and I know under his tough exterior he is a good man who wants the best for his son.”

Your thoughts swirled at Mrs. Ono’s words, leaving you more curious about your employer. You peered at the clock; it was well past 7 a.m. now. “I should wake Yuji; I wouldn’t want him late for school.”

“Did you make pancakes?” You and Mrs. Ono looked at the kitchen entryway. There stood a sleepy-looking Yuji, still in his pajamas and clutching his teddy bear.

“We sure did,” you said with a significant smile, holding the stake pancakes. “Hope you’re hungry." 

Yuji's face brightened at the sight, and he rushed to his place at the table, eager to have breakfast.

You had developed a soft spot for Yuji in just two short weeks of working for the Sukuna's. He was a ray of sunshine in your eyes; his contagious optimism never failed to bring a smile to your face. Even at such a young age, Yuji displayed so much selflessness. He became your little helper, always going out of his way to help you with chores, cooking, shopping, etc.

“No,” Yuji laughed as he saw your version of a dog you had painted. 

“What do you mean no?” Tonight, you and Yuji were spending a night in, Yuji begging for an arts and crafts night. You had agreed to set up the kitchen table with paint, crayons, and glitter. The works, really.

“That’s not a dog!” He giggled, bringing his paintbrush to your canvas. “That looks like a yucky blob.”

You fake gasped as you clutched your chest. “Good sir, are you saying I’m horrible at painting?” He nodded, a shy giggle coming from the young boy. In one swift motion, you pulled Yuji into your lap, tickling his sides. The young boy laughed as he wiggled in your grasp. “Take it back.”

“No,” he yelled. 

The exchange continued until the sound of a cleared throat made you freeze. Standing in the entryway was Ryomen. His expression was as unreadable as ever, but his eyes had an unusual softness. You hadn't even noticed the door opening; how long had he been standing there?

“Daddy!” Yujji cheered as he sprung from your lap, launching at his father's legs, causing Ryomen to tense. “Daddy, miss l/n, and I were making some art. Can you come paint with me, please?”

“I’m not really a painter, Yuji,” his father responded.

“That’s okay, miss l/n isn’t very good either but she’s still painting!”

“Yuji,” you exclaimed.

Yuji snickered, a small huff escaping Ryomen’s lips. “Please daddy? Pretty please daddy,” Yuji begged. 

“Fine,” he sighed. Yuji cheered as he took his father’s hand, leading him to your table. 

Watching Ryomen Sukuna, a figure known for his massive and intimidating presence, sit cross-legged on the floor was a sight to behold. He was surprisingly gentle as he painted together with his son. This version of Ryomen contrasted sharply with his usual fierce demeanor.

This unexpected moment of tenderness was heartwarming. It took every ounce of restraint not to grab your phone and capture the scene before you.

“What,” Ryomen spat. “Do I have something on my face?”

Heat flooded your face as the tender moment came to an abrupt halt. You hadn’t even realized you were staring. Shaking your head, you said, “No. Sorry, sir.”

His lips moved into a smirk, eyes scanning your own work. “Tch. Yuji was right. You really can’t paint."

Like father like son.

What began as arts and crafts evolved into a movie as time passed. To your surprise, Ryomen chose to join in.

You had made a large bowl of popcorn for the three of you to share. You settled on one side of the couch while Ryomen took the other. About halfway through the movie, Yuji grew tired; it was well past his bedtime, so it was no surprise. He curled up on his side, his head resting on your lap and his feet touching his father's thigh.

As the end credits began rolling, you gently ran your fingers through Yuji's hair. "I guess it's bedtime," you whispered, turning your head to face Ryomen.

Your breath caught in your throat as you noted his intense stare. While there was no warmth in his features, something in his eyes hinted otherwise. “I should get Yuji to bed.”

“No,” he said firmly. You watched curiously as he stepped towards you, bending down to pluck Yuji from your embrace. “I’ll do it.”

You swallowed hard as you watched the two walk away before shaking yourself from the daze. There was still cleanup to do, and it seemed like a good distraction.

You were about halfway through washing the dishes when Ryomen walked in. “He’s in bed.”

“Good,” you spoke, not looking up. 

You expected him to leave, but to your surprise, he walked towards you, grabbed a rag, and began to dry the dishes. You started to protest, but Ryomen quickly hushed you, and a comfortable silence settled between you both.

It felt so domestic.

"Yuji seems happy," he spoke suddenly.

"He's a happy kid," you agree. "A good kid actually. He always wants to help everyone with everything."

"I don't know where he gets that from," Ryomen grunted as he dried the last dish. When you looked at each other, there was a heavy silence as your gazes met. Suddenly, Ryomen reached out, his warm hand cupping his cheek. His thumb delicately brushes under your eye. A surge of electricity coursed through you at the touch.

"You had paint." He pulled his hand back as he spoke but kept his gaze locked with yours. He moved closer to you, his warmth enveloping your body. You craved even more closeness from him, yearning for his touch and the chance to touch him in return. But just when you thought it might happen, he stepped away and cleared his throat. "It's getting late, you should probably get some rest."

"R-right," you agreed, embarrassed at your taboo thoughts. "Goodnight,".You quickly retreated to your bedroom, needing to create as much distance between yourself and Ryomen as possible.

Things changed after that night. Ryomen began to be around more, coming home occasionally in the evenings. Sometimes, he would join us for dinner or a movie. These visits were never planned; he would simply show up. You don’t think you’ve ever seen Yuji as happy as he is now. With each interaction, you see Ryomen in a new light. The man you once thought was intimidating now shows a softer side with his son.

During these times, Ryomen's attitude towards you shifted as well. It wasn't uncommon that you would spy his eyes on you, that devilish smirk gracing his lips. Or when you would pass him something, his touch would linger, leaving you wanting more. And when Yuji was put to bed, Ryomen would always come down and help you tidy up no matter how much you protested.

It seemed so natural.  

As the weeks went by and the seasons shifted, the fall play approached. Yuji proudly announced that he had been cast as the Big Bad Wolf. Yuji was over the moon about it, and the next time he saw his dad, Yuji made him a pinky promise that he would go see him perform.

A few nights before the play, you sat at the kitchen table, putting the finishing touches on Yuji’s costume for the next day while sipping wine. Ryomen had come home for dinner and taken over Yuji’s nighttime routine, for which you were very grateful.

“Yuji’s asleep,” Ryomen said as he entered the kitchen. You hummed in response, watching him grab a glass of whiskey before sitting opposite you. As he sipped his drink, you couldn’t help but secretly admire the man before you. Even in his relaxed state, his presence was hard to ignore. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table while holding his drink in one hand. “The costume looks good,” he remarked.

“It better,” you snorted. “I’ve been working on it long enough.”

He chuckled. “He’s really excited about this play.”

“That’s Yuji for you. Always excited and happy, one of the many things I’ve learned to love about the kid.” You sat back, holding up the costume proudly, “Finished!”

Ryomen whistled, “Guess we have reason to celebrate.” 

You put the costume aside as Ryomen tops off your glass of wine and pours himself another glass of whiskey. You raise a brow as you return to your seat. “So we are celebrating me finishing a costume?”

“Not just any costume, but the most amazing big bad wolf costume,” he emphasizes the words "big bad" as he leans closer to you, bringing his drink to his lips.

"It's late." You stand, a slight buzz from the wine. That was your signal that staying here would lead to nothing good, especially with the hungry eyes Ryomen was giving you. "I should go to bed."

Ryomen grabbed your wrist, giving you pause as you stared back at him. His eyes pleading. "Don't go."

It's unclear who made the first move, but suddenly, everything is happening at once. Feverish hands are roaming over your skin as clothes are hastily discarded, leaving you in only your underwear. Ryomen lifts you up and wraps your legs around his waist, pulling you in for a passionate kiss before placing you on the kitchen table.

His lips moved down your body, leaving a trail of kisses from your mouth to your chest. Ryomen pulls down your bra, exposing your perked nipples. As one hand twists and teases one nipple, his mouth eagerly latches onto the other. Your back arches as the sensation takes over your body. Your legs wrap around his waist, forcing his clothed cock to hit your aching core. Your need for release is overwhelming.

"Look at you, already desperate for my cock and I've barely touched you." Ryomen mumbled against your breast.

His lips trailed down your body, leaving a trail of hot kisses and marks in their wake. With each bite and lick, his hunger only grew more intense. He hooked his fingers into the fabric of your panties, pulling them down agonizingly slowly as a twisted smile spread across his face, seeming to enjoy the power he has over you. Subconsciously, you tried to close your legs, only for Ryomen to force them back open.

"Don't," he warned, giving your inner thigh a slap.

Ryomen’s gaze intensified as he took in the sight of you sprawled out on the kitchen table before him. To him, you were like a delicious feast waiting to be devoured. His fingers trailed down your legs, causing your skin to tingle with anticipation before reaching between your thighs. Your breath caught in your throat as his fingers ran down your folds.

"So wet," he licked his lips before inserting one of his large fingers. "And tight."

Your head was enveloped in a thick fog as Ryomen’s finger pumped into you at an agonizingly slow pace. His gaze bore into your very soul, from your drenched sex to your trembling face. It was too much to handle; you had to avert your eyes before he consumed you completely.

He withdrew his finger, giving your clit a firm slap that elicited a yelp from your mouth. "Don't look away," he snarled. You turned back to face the man between your legs, his eyes burning.

"I'm sorry," you mumble.

Ryomen leans over you, his body pressing against yours as he stands. His hands are firmly planted on either side of your shoulders, and you can feel his clothed arousal rubbing against your own heat. A strangled moan escapes your lips at the sensation, causing you to instinctively grind yourself against him. His face is inches from yours, his breath warm against your skin. "If you're going to apologize," he murmurs, "do it properly."

"I'm sorry, sir."

“Good girl.” Ryomen’s satisfied grin spread across his face as he drew back, his hand tracing a slow path back to your dripping core. But he granted you no relief, only teasing grazing your clit.

You try to remain calm, but your hands tightly grip the table's edge. You crave more; you desperately need more. "Please," you beg, body trembling. "Don't tease me, sir."

"Hm, you think you deserve more?"

You couldn't believe how desperate you sounded as you replied, "Yes please, I deserve more."

"Since you asked nicely."

He pushed two fingers into you, the sensation flooding your body with pure pleasure. With each powerful pump, his knuckle grazes against your throbbing clit, sending electric shocks through you. Meanwhile, his other hand moved toward your chest, playing with your sensitive nipples. You bite your lip, struggling to suppress the primal moans threatening to escape as the knot in your belly tightens.

You were on the edge of bliss when Ryomen withdrew his hands. Before you could protest, Ryomen listed you off the kitchen table and pressed you against the kitchen counter, Ryomen standing behind you. The rustle of his pants catches your attention, but before you can see what's happening, Ryomen pushes your head down. You uttered a small cry as your face and chest pressed against the cold marble surface.

His fat head is moved up and down your folds. You tilt your head a little, catching a glimpse of Ryomen’s member. "The only place you’re allowed to cum tonight in on my cock," he growls.

Ryomen's throbbing cock plunged deep into your core, igniting a primal fire within you. Your face contorted in ecstasy as Ryomen mercilessly pounded into you with a punishing pace, the force of each thrust causing your hips to slam into the counter you were being pressed against. Pleasure and pain merged into overwhelming bliss.

Ryomen's nails press into the soft flesh of your hips. He adjusts his position, raising you so your feet are no longer touching the ground. Your body responds eagerly to his touch, arching and writhing with each deliberate movement.

Ryomen grips a handful of your hair and pulls you up against his chest, pressing your back into him. He presses his lips into the shell of your ear. "Look at you, completely fucked out. Do you want to cum, my little pet?" His husky voice sends shivers down your spine.

"Yes." You gasped, "yes sir please."

He let go of your hair and stepped back, giving his hands full access to your throbbing clit. His fingers rubbed circles on it as he thrust into you more vigorously. Your screams of pleasure are uncontrollable as he hits depths within you that have never been touched before. You cling to the edge of the counter, your face buried into the crook of your arm, trying to muffle your lewd sounds.

Finally, you were pushed off the cliff. The force of your release almost unbearable as shockwaves rippled through your entire body, causing your cunt to spasm uncontrollably. Through the haze of pleasure, you could hear a string of curses escaping from Ryomen. Still, your mind was too occupied with the overwhelming sensations to process anything else. He continued to fuck you relentlessly, each thrust bringing you to tears from the overstimulation. But just when you thought you couldn't take anymore, he gave a harsh thrust, fully pushing into you as you felt his warmth fill you.

You stayed in that position for a moment, feeling Ryomen pull out, his cum dripping down your leg.

Your legs felt weak, making you unsure if you could even stand. But before you could attempt it, Ryomen scooped you into his arms and headed towards the stairs with a mischievous smirk. "You didn't think I was finished with you?"

You felt the ache in your body as you woke up in Ryomen’s bed. The man had fulfilled his promise, and you had spent several hours in his bed before succumbing to exhaustion. The fog of lust and alcohol cleared, and reality hits you like a ton of bricks: you had slept with your boss. A wave of panic overcame you. You immediately slipped out of his bed, fearing his reaction if you had stayed until he awoke.

You sat on the edge of your bed, thoughts swirling about what would happen in the morning. Footsteps in the hallway made you sit up as fear gripped your heart. There was a knock at the door, and you held your breath, knowing who stood on the other side. "Y/n," his voice sounded uncertain.

Sliding off your bed, you moved towards the door, opening it just enough to see Ryomen. There was a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes. The hesitance etched on his face was not something you had seen from him before. "Good morning, sir."

"Listen," he rubbed the back of his neck. "About last night-"

"It was a mistake," you blurted without thinking. You didn't want to hear what he had to say, your heart aching at the list of potential things he would say. "I'm sorry; it was very unprofessional of me."

Ryomen's face twisted in pain, his fist clenched tight, knuckles white. "A mistake, right," he said. He turned to return to his room but paused. In an icy tone, he spoke, "Make sure to clean the kitchen before Yuji wakes up."

If it had been two days since you last spoke to him. Two days since you had slept with him. Now, here you sat alone, watching Yuji's play. No sign of Ryomen anywhere in the crowd.

As the final bows concluded, you noticed Yuji scanning the crowd with his eyes. They brightened when he spotted you, but his smile faded as he looked around you. You instantly realized he understood that his dad had broken his promise.

tag: @zezedoesshit

[cheolism-archive]

OH, AGONY

✰ — teaching assistant & boyfriend!lee jihoon x f!reader ✷ — summary: when you both find out that your boyfriend, lee jihoon, will be the ta for your classic literature class, it is agreed your relationship will take a temporary pause . no public dates, no pda; and, most tragically, no sex. nothing that can give away the truth to your relationship. only, it really is easier said than done. or: four times you and jihoon totally didn't have sex plus one time you did. ✰ — wc is approx. 14.5k ✷ — genre: TA au, secret relationship au, forbidden relationship au, smut ✰ — warnings: spanking, pussy spanking. derogatory language (f receiving), pet names (baby (f receiving), hoonie). rough sex, unprotected sex. masturbation (f&m) and sex toys. penetrative sex. extreme levels of delusion as to what "qualifies" as sex or not; jihoon and reader bully one another. talk pertaining to the greek tragedy oedipus rex (self-blinding is mentioned as it pertains to oedpius but not discussed in detail). ✷ — rating: 18+ ✰ — note: this fic represents two delusional adults. they are both consenting to what is going on. this fic is not an accurate representation of what is and not considered sex. also the word count may be scary, but i promise it is pretty much all smut. this fic is part of @camandemstudios first ever collab, back to school with seventeen. please make sure to give the other works lots of love!

“we have to set up rules,” jihoon announced a week before classes were to start. he closed the zoom tab, which he had preciously been using to talk to the classics professor he was ta-ing for this semester, kicking back from his desk. 

“rules,” you said, peeking over the top of your book. it was hotter than hell outside, the sort of heat that suffocated and made you feel as if you were being wrung like a wet towel. inside, however, you had a blanket tucked around your body and socks pulled up to your calves. 

jihoon wandered over to the thermostat. he frowned, reaching and dialing it down once again. if he was going to pay for air conditioning, he believed, he was going to be cold in the comfort of his own apartment. 

“it’s not fair to other students that you’re dating your ta,” he said. 

“if this is literally you breaking up with me –”

“don’t be dramatic,” jihoon chided, crossing the room to you. he picked up the edge of the blanket, slipping under and pressing his toes against your feet. “i didn’t say that. i just mean that we shouldn’t advertise our relationship to everyone.”

you closed your book, keeping your forefinger inside to mark your place. “just keep it a secret then. can’t be hard.”

“we can’t let anyone know,” he enunciated. “for real. the professor doesn’t even know. if he did, he’d reassign me.”

“then we just don’t say anything.”

“you shouldn’t stay the night.” jihoon laid his arm over the back of the couch, inviting you to cuddle into his side without him verbally giving invitation. you abided, shifting to rest your head on his thick bicep. “and no dates.”

you huffed. “jihoon, i don’t know if it’s really that serious.”

he scoffed back at you. black bangs hid his eyes. “they could accuse me of favoritism, accuse you of academic dishonesty. we need to treat this seriously.”

“maybe i should just request to change to a different section.”

“too much work.”

“oh,” you laughed, reaching over and pinching at his side. jihoon flinched, instinctively slapping at your hand. “and pretending we aren’t dating isn’t.”

“that’s why we need rules.” you kicked out the blanket, pulling it from jihoon; he grumbled, snatching it back. “don’t be a hog. anyways. we need rules so we can stick to a strict routine. that way we don’t lapse in judgment or anything.”

“so no sleepovers,” you recited, “no dates. what else? no walking to class? no kissing?”

jihoon leaned his head back against the couch, exposing the length of his pale neck. you let your eyes linger. “sleepovers, dates. no meeting in public unless in a group setting.” 

you let out a great sigh, pushing the blanket from you. snatching your bookmark, you stuffed it into the novel you had been reading. “so we’re strangers.”

“yes,” jihoon confirmed. “easy enough.”

you gasped, mouth dropping open. “easy!”

jihoon bit at his lip, and you could tell that he was already regretting his choice of words. but he wouldn’t back down – that wasn’t in his nature. “easy,” he said. 

“fine,” you hissed. you left the couch, retrieving your backpack. you brought out your notepad and pen pouch. “no sex, either.”

“what –”

“if it’s so easy,” you retorted sharply, walking back to the couch while ripping out an empty page of your notebook, “then no sex won’t be a problem for you, mr. lee. i mean – it needs to be believable, right? no getting caught.”

jihoon grimaced, moving to a sitting position on the couch. “yeah. believable.”

“we write it down,” you said, taking back your spot next to jihoon. you opened your pen pouch, letting the pens and markers spill out onto the coffee table. “we write it down and shake on it. it’s a contract.”

jihoon hesitated. “this is a little severe, don’t you think?”

you shook your head. “nope. can’t let anyone know, yeah? otherwise i’d be academically dishonest, wouldn’t i?”

jihoon grabbed your paper, creating a bullet point. “i really don’t think this is necessary.”

“but you do,” you shot back. “i mean. you were the one to bring it up all serious-like. no kissing, no sleepovers, no sex. the whole five yards, lee jihoon.”

“but a contract –”

“oh? so you’re wrong?”

jihoon huffed, pressing his lips into a firm line. “fine. no dates, no marks, no pda.”

“and no sex.”

“and no sex.”

W E E K  O N E

your eyes immediately catch onto jihoon as soon as you walk into the classroom, and while you really should’ve guessed that he was going to play dirty – because as hard as he tries to maintain an indifferent air, jihoon is just as weak of a many as any – you didn’t realize he would be playing this dirty. 

he’s wearing black trousers that fit to his thighs and ass, cinched tightly at his waist by a thin leather belt. his white dress shirt is loose around his neck, the first button undone. your eyes, unwillingly, smooth over the silver chain that winks out from underneath his shirt, alongside the harsh lines of the white tank-top he wears underneath the dress shirt and you feel, horribly, a strike of want hitting you. 

jihoon turns to you. “hello,” he says, voice perfectly neutral. his eyes don’t stray from your face despite the fact you’ve worn his favorite jeans, the ones that cling at your own ass and show off flashes of skin underneath rips strategically placed; rips jihoon has made worse over the months of being together, slipping his fingers underneath the loose threads to touch your skin. 

“go ahead and take a seat,” jihoon instructs, gesturing about the room. the desks are all modern despite the discussion taking place in the historic – well – history buildings. the desk shifts underneath you as you try to slide in, bottom of your water bottle clanging against the hard surface, and wheels carting across the marble floor. 

you stretch out your legs, staring at jihoon unabashedly. it isn’t a sin for you, the student, to be attracted to the teaching assistant. and so you look him over, watching as he turns this way and that way, trousers showing off the plush of his ass and shirt showing the wide line of his shoulders. 

you are jerked from your admiration of your boyfriend-turned-teaching assistant by a large man hurrying to the desk next to you. he’s jihoon’s opposite in almost every way: he’s easily a foot taller, and his skin is a gorgeous dark bronze that seems to draw emphasize to the bulge of his muscles. 

the man slides into the desk. it’s comically small for him, his knees hitting the underside of the desk. the desk moves as he situates himself, prompting his backpack to fall over from where he had propped it. 

“shit,” he mumbles, reaching down with one long arm, biceps bulging rather nicely, to righten the backpack. “stay up, please.”

rather endearingly, to top it all off, he has a lisp. 

he glances at you, eyes apologetic beneath his curly bangs. “sorry. not my day today.”

you huff a laugh. “i don’t know if it’s anyone’s day, let alone week.”

“true,” the man says, grinning. his teeth are white, his canines more pronounced than most people’s. “hey. i’m mingyu.”

you introduce yourself. “are you a classics major, then?”

mingyu wrinkles his nose. “no offense to classics, but i’m doing something interesting.”

“yeah?”

“business.”

you let out a loud laugh, startling not only yourself but the people around you. mingyu grins triumphantly, tongue flicking out to run alongside his teeth. you hide your smile behind your hand, trying to quiet your laughter. jihoon, you notice, is frowning at the two of you. 

“so interesting!” you say. “definitely a major filled with the best.”

“the very best,” mingyu agrees. 

the two of you continue chatting, conversation flowing naturally. he’s charming, you think, charisma practically radiating off of him.  you don’t miss how your boyfriend watches the two of you more often than not, not engaging in conversation with any of the entering students who greet him so he could keep an ear open on your conversation. 

jihoon starts class as soon as the electronic clock on the classroom computer switches to three on the dot, the projection cast onto the board. 

“first thing’s first,” he says. he leans a hand against the table set at the front of the room, though it, too, is on wheels and skirts a little as he puts weight against it. “my syllabus, you’ll find, is stricter than professor burns’s. if you come in after the clock hits three, you’re tardy; you’ll contribute to all discussions in this class, and if you don’t you’ll forgo any participation points; if you miss three classes in a row, which translates to nearly a month of absences, your grade will automatically fall to a fail and you will have to take not only this discussion over, but professor’s burns’s lecture as well. 

“if,” jihoon continues to say, voice a rasp, “you find any of this in contradiction with professor burns’s syllabus, you are more than welcome to email the both of us and address it.”

the class is silent as jihoon grabs a piece of white chalk. naturally, despite the gleaming projectors and furniture on wheels in the building, nearly every classroom is a remnant of the late 19th century: chalkboards; coat hooks; door and window frames made of real wood. 

“remember to use proper emailing etiquette when contacting anyone in the college,” jihoon announces. he begins to write on the board, chalk tapping against the black surface as he decorates it with his chicken scratch. “and to address me as mr. lee. there is a pdf uploaded to our discussion course detailing how to address certain faculty members within the college for you to browse and keep.”

jihoon steps back from the blackboard. there he’s written the title of the course, ancient grecian dramas. 

he runs a hand through his black hair, pushing back strands. “we’ll begin properly next week, once professor burns assigns the first drama for reading. i recommend printing out the reading and annotating, practicing close reading. that way when you come to discussion we can go over your notes as a group and analyze the text further.

“now. we’ll begin today by doing a writing exercise. i want you to tell me what you think of when you think of ancient greek dramas. this will also be how i take attendance – so make sure to do it.”

you rifle through your bag, pulling out your notebook. next is your pen pouch, though the surface area of the desk is hardly large enough to fit your notebook. pouch, and water bottle. 

“you can email it,” jihoon clarifies after a moment of silence. “make sure you label it accordingly.”

hurriedly you pull out your laptop, pushing your pen pouch aside and setting it on top of your notebook. you shift in your seat as your laptop boots back up, and you can’t help but glance up at your teacher’s assistant.

jihoon, being a classics major and your boyfriend, has introduced you to ancient greek plays before. it’s not like you’re completely foreign to the subject; he’s dragged you to more than one play in order to get some assignment credit, notebook on his thigh as he jotted down notes in the dark of the theater. 

sometimes he takes to reading to you different passages – especially those that move him or he thinks are particularly ridiculous. he pours over the text religiously, like a priest would the gospel; analyzing every line, drawing meaning from the colors of robes to what isn’t being said at all. he looks at these little black words on white pages, words written thousands of years ago, and is simply transported into another lifetime. 

it’s endearing; it’s special. 

the first time you had noticed him, jihoon had been surrounded by pages of a poem. later you’d learn it was by some jeffrey guy from the medieval period and was about a group traveling for worship. whatever it was, didn’t matter. 

what had mattered was him. 

he was disheveled. the white printed-out pages of the poem were scattered along the table in the university library, the uniform black-and-white pages interrupted by annotations written in colors of the rainbow. the highlighters and pens were scattered themselves, abandoned by post-it notes stuck to every page. 

he had three empty energy drinks in front of him. the hood of his hoodie was pulled up over his hair, the black fabric matching the dark circles under his eyes that told you he had been at this for far too long. 

you had gone and got him a water; brought it back to him. listened to his theories about color, about how he thought it meant something; how this poet had chosen every word so carefully there’s no way that color didn’t mean something. 

you, a distinctly not literary fanatic, had not understood; you still don’t. 

but his eyes always light up and his voice begins to carry this urgency that betrays his adoration for the art, and you just can’t help but let yourself get caught in his orbit. 

so you open up an email and begin to write.

Mr. Lee, 

My boyfriend is a Classics Major, so when I think of Ancient Greek Dramas I think of him. He’s shown me quite a few, and we’ve attended more than a handful plays

you shift in your seat, thinking. as you move, however, your arm knocks against your pen pouch and sends it to the floor. 

the noise as it hits the floor isn’t as thunderous as it would have been if your water bottle had struck it, but it’s still loud enough for you to wince. it breaks the still of the room, your classmates shifting in their seats and throwing glances at you. 

before you could move from your seat, mingyu is. he’s quick to grab your pouch, smiling gently at you as he offers it. his hands are so big they span the length of the pouch, a beautiful golden tan that only seems to boost his natural beauty. 

“think you dropped this,” he says in a harsh whisper. 

you bite back a laugh, teeth digging into your lower lip as you smile. grabbing the pouch from mingyu, you whisper back a quick thanks. 

you glance up towards the front of the room as you settle back into your seat. jihoon is looking right at you, frowning, arms crossed over his chest. his white shirt isn’t fitted, and it struggles against his bulging biceps as he crosses his arms. 

for a moment you just look at him, taking in your boyfriend’s form; how the shirt clings to his arms, trousers to his thighs. 

there’s a dinging noise of an email landing in an inbox, and then jihoon is moving from the front of the room and around the table to his laptop. 

you return to your email. 

Mr. Lee, 

My boyfriend is a Classics Major, so when I think of Ancient Greek Dramas I think of him. He’s shown me quite a few, and we’ve attended more than a handful plays. A lot of them are different than what I’ve expected. Some of them seem like they came right from Ancient Greece; others are more modern. I have noticed Ancient Greek plays seem to be more twisted than what a modern author may come up with. 

Sometimes I don’t understand really what a play is about. It gets all muddled, especially when they don’t change the words for a modern audience. Still, my boyfriend is super sweet and helps me along. 

you hesitate for a moment, and then you sign your name. opening a new tab, you pull up a bookmark and add one last finishing touch beside your name. 

– °˖✧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚✧˖°

you are more exhausted than usual. 

it’s as if all of the good vibes and rest you had managed to scrape together over the summer break were eradicated in one day. as soon as you managed to get to jihoon’s apartment you were discarding everything; shoes at the door; backpack next to the couch; bra onto the floor. 

his bed was perhaps the most comforting place you knew besides his arms, and so you slunk towards it. you made quick work of your pants, one knee pressing against the mattress as you shook your other leg, jeans flopping to the floor dramatically. 

you followed suit on jihoon’s bed. 

burrowing into his sheets, you couldn’t help but breathe him in. he was a hot sleeper, and so more likely to sweat during the night. his sheets smell like his sweat, though not the stinky sort he gains from his daily workout. instead, it's the natural musk of him that permeates your nose, deep and distinctly lee jihoon. 

you allow yourself to drift. nothing exists besides jihoon’s bed and you. 

then the door to his apartment is opening and closing, a voice with a slight rasp calling out to you. 

“here!” you call back, voice slightly muffled by the sheets. you press your face against them again, eyes fluttering shut. 

jihoon slowly makes his way across the apartment. he mutters something about your discarded clothes and backpack, but you pay it no mind. jihoon pauses when he enters his room, and you can practically feel his eyes on you; roaming the bare expanse of your back, the supple flesh of your thighs. 

“good day?” you kick out a leg, wiggling your toes. 

he makes a humming noise, and then he’s stepping further into the room. 

“long one,” he says. “forgot how fucking awkward everyone is on the first day.”

you shift, moving your face so you could watch him. jihoon crosses to his dresser, fingers messing with the cuffs of his white dress shirt. you can see the moment he gets the button, the fabric sagging around his wrists. 

oh. 

sitting up on the bed, you watch as he begins to work on his other cuff. he peers out the window, chatting as he does. 

“professor burns is the usual,” jihoon announces. “hasn’t changed in the – what? five years i’ve been here? i swear she rambles like no one’s business. if it wasn’t my job to babysit the students and not her, i’d say something – but fuck, you know?”

once he’s undone the buttons on the cuffs of both of his sleeves, jihoon begins to work on the buttons falling down the middle of the shirt. his fingers are deft and quick as he presses them through their holes. 

you can’t help but think of his fingers on you. how nimble and skillful they are against your skin; how he dances them up and down your flesh as he presses kisses against your skin; how they seem to know just where to go and just what to do against your body, rubbing at your nipples and pinching at the undersides of your tits to get reactions from you. 

because fuck, jihoon’s fingers –

sometimes even watching him write you can’t help but get horny. how his fingers grip his pen, how he spins it around his fingers absentmindedly. how they alleviate pressure on the pen as he writes and stops. watching him write, sometimes you can’t help but think about his fingers at your clip, a harsh presence as they rub down on you once moment and gentle the next, fingers skimming your clit as they massage the gummy area around it. 

watching his clever fingers as they make quick work of the buttons on his shirt, you can’t help but yearn. your eyes see nothing but his fingers; ears hear nothing of his conversation. it’s just you and jihoon’s hands and the way your cunt clenches, pussy leaking into your panties. 

then jihoon’s pulling off his dress shirt, and he’s wearing a tank top underneath. 

you want to scream. 

not to say jihoon doesn’t look good in a tank top. because he does. fuck, he does. you always find yourself admiring jihoon’s shoulders and arms when he’s in a tank top no matter what sort of mood you’re in. 

(one instance in particular you had been full of energy, ranting about a coworker who didn’t know what she was doing and had been kept around for far too long. and then you had looked up at jihoon and let your eyes selfishly roam over the broadness of his back, the curves of his bulging arms as he cut up meat. all sense had abandoned you in that moment, and before you knew it you were grabbing at his shirt and pulling him to you, tongue running along his skin.

not exactly your proudest moment, but.)

maybe the combination of his trousers and tank top shouldn’t be as sexy as they are, you think hysterically. his tank top his tucked into his pants, and, torturously, his fingers reach down to pull the hem free. the hem of his tank top settles around his hips, showing off just a sliver of skin. 

jihoon raises a hand, running his fingers through his black hair as he continues to talk about something-or-other. 

and his white tank top rises up his stomach. 

you can see the hairs that lead from his belly button down, down, down. you can see the pale expanse of skin that you know is soft and smooth to the touch. you can imagine your hands pressing against his skin and sliding underneath his trousers; can imagine the restrictiveness of his trousers as you tuck your hands into his underwear, fingertips skimming alongside the base of his cock. 

you’ve never pretended to innocent when it came to lee jihoon; never pretended your mind didn’t run wild with salacious thoughts. 

and you weren’t going to pretend now, because – 

because in your mind your hands were rubbing at the base of his cock, mouth at his collar and licking along his collarbones. he was moaning in you ear, soft and breathy, and you were moving down onto your knees, your own fingers unbuttoning his trousers. 

jihoon reaches down, fingers swiftly pushing off his socks. “hey, by the way, i sent you an email response to your attendance discussion for today.”

you don’t speak, eyes roaming over the expanse of his back, still covered by fabric, like a starving man before a feast. 

jihoon peeks at you. “it was sweet.”

“yeah?” 

he doesn’t say anything else. jihoon’s eyebrows raise, silently prompting you. 

you let out a loud, horrible groan that tears at your throat. the insides of your thighs are warm as you move across the bed to grab your discarded phone, the wet fabric of your panties catching against your skin, cold and shocking. 

jihoon begins to chatter once more as you swipe on the email notification. he’s quiet in public but you can’t help but treasure how talkative he becomes afterwards; how all the little snide comments he’s kept to himself are let loose. 

you look at the email. 

you furrow your brows. you look over it again. 

I am glad to see at least one of the students in our discussion section will not be a complete novice to Greek theater. I hope after this semester you will be able to engage with your boyfriend in a more informed matter when it comes to his passions. 

However, despite how sweet your email was, I do have to remind you to please stick to proper email etiquette. Your use of – °˖✧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚✧˖° is highly unprofessional, and I urge you to not include such things when emailing any staff or faculty or teaching assistants. For this misconduct, you will be deducted a point from your discussion grade for today. Please keep this in mind for the future. 

Well wishes, 

Mr. Lee

your jaw drops open. 

“you fucking deducted me for my emoticon?!” 

“we agreed to be strangers,” jihoon reminds you. he removes his pants. you can’t even find it within yourself to be horny. the warmth of your cunt is overtaken by the red-hot anger that licks through your veins. “and it’s inappropriate to send your ta heart and sparkle emoticons.”

“it’s a fucking – oh my god,” you reach towards the top of the bed, fingers grabbing the corner of his pillow. you tug it to you. “it’s not that serious.”

jihoon steps out of his pants. his thighs are thick and pale, and when he turns towards his closest you can see how snug his black underwear is against the supple curve of his ass. fleetingly, because you are angry at his audacity, you allow your eyes to follow the curve of his asschecks and how the band of his underwear rests low on his hips. 

“teaching assistants and students aren’t to have any sexual relations,” jihoon recites. “it’s contract. if something happens, your little not-that-serious emoticon is evidence.”

you grab the pillow fully, swinging it around your body and at jihoon. it hits him in the middle. he lets out a soft noise of surprise. “you’re such an ass.”

jihoon shrugs. “we signed a contract, baby.” 

he tucks his thumbs underneath the waistband of his underwear, and then he’s pulling them down his legs. you don’t even have it in you to look away. you marvel at his naked lower half. his cock, thick and flaccid, hanging between his thighs. the dusky color of it; the dark hairs that travel from underneath the hem of his tank top to the base of his cock. 

jihoon pulls on a pair of grey joggers, concealing his cock and thighs from your eyes. “listen. i don’t want to be the bad guy. but we really can’t be risking anything.”

his cock is covered and he’s talking about something entirely different, but you’re still thinking about his dick. you’re still thinking about his dick as he walks from the bedroom, bare feet softly hitting the hardwood floors. 

you trail two of your fingers along your bare thigh. his dick, flaccid and thick in your hands. it feels like it’s been forever since you’ve had your hands or mouth or fucking cunt around his dick; forever since you last pressed your thumb against the slit of his cockhead, since his raspy, gentle groans were being pressed into your skin. 

you skim your nails along the soft insides of your thighs. 

it’s not like you’re sexually depraved. you and jihoon just had sex the other day. but there’s something about this, the situation, being strangers, that makes you feel as if you’re starving. 

your fingers move to your panties. you let your nails delicately linger alongside the lips of your cunt through the fabric, little sparks – little pieces of glitter, almost – making your toes curl. 

fuck lee jihoon, you think, and then you’re sliding your forefinger down between your pussy lips. you don’t move the fabric of your panties. leaning back against his bed, you let your finger drag down and push up, your wetness soaking your panties. 

his bed envelopes you as you lean back. tilting your hips up and bracing your feet against the mattress, you add another finger to the stimulation of your pussy. you let your fingers grow rougher, let them dig in slightly to the sensitive area around your clit. 

your fingers find your hole, stretching the fabric of your panties to reach in. 

“fuck.” 

your eyes flutter open – when did they shut? jihoon is standing at the entrance to his room. his long hair is pushed back from his face by a black headband. in one hand he holds a metal water bottle. 

his eyes are wide, his sweet lips parted as he stares at that spot between your thighs. 

jihoon shuffles further into the room, placing his water bottle on top of his set of drawers. you’ve begun absentmindedly petting your pussy, once again dragging your fingers over your clit lazily. 

jihoon presses his knees against the foot of his mattress. 

you hum, twisting your wrist. you press your thumb against the side of your clit, your fingers dipping once more to your hole. this morning you had chosen to wear a pair of pink panties. you don’t regret it now. you’re so soaking wet that you know jihoon can see the shape of your cunt through the fabric. 

your fingers begin to contract. you massage your pussy through the fabric leisurely, rhythmically. you drag your thumb down from your clit to meet your fingers, press your fingers down to barely sink into your hole. 

jihoon lets out a deep noise. he braces his hands against the mattress, makes a motion to crawl towards you. 

“no,” you say, words slightly slurred. “no. one point, remember?”

jihoon’s brow furrows. 

you reach down with your other hand, legs spreading wider. with your other hand you pull at the flesh of your pussy lips, offering your fingers more space to work with. you shift your hand, making sure to keep one lip in place. your other hand – the one with soaking fingertips – strokes up and down, up and down, up and down. 

jihoon’s hand settles on your ankle. you kick out. “no sex, yeah?”

jihoon lets out a strangled noise you’ve never heard from him. 

you let your eyes fall shut. you can feel the weight of his gaze on you. letting out a soft breath, your fingers begin to glide up and down your cunt more quickly. 

you begin to focus on your clit more. your hand that was holding your cunt lips moves up, focusing on baring the area around your clit. with your other hand you begin to stimulate the direct areas on either side of your clit. you are still working through your panties, but you’re so wet that the friction is almost nonexistent; your fingers just slide, massaging into the flesh. 

you begin to set a rhythm. you rock your forefinger and middle finger against the sensitive area around your clit. you rock once; twice; then you’re dipping your fingers down the length of your cunt, down to your hole; you drag them back up, and begin your elaborate play once more. 

it’s somewhat treacherous. it would be easier if it was jihoon. you would be able to fully relax back into the bed, just have to lay there and take it. 

but: no sex. 

so you slowly build up a climax, toes curling and chest arching up. it’s not sudden, not unexpected. it’s a slow climax that has your cunt tingling, head dropping back against the pillow. 

you continue to slip your fingers against your clit, dragging out your climax, continuing through it. 

eventually you come back to yourself. 

your wrist hurts; your fingers are cramping. discomfort takes over you more than lust, and so you relax your body back into the bed, hands moving from your pussy. 

and you look at jihoon. 

your boyfriend drags his gaze up from your pussy to your face. one of his hands is wrapped around his cock. he hasn’t taken it out of his joggers, just as you hadn’t taken off your drenched panties. you can see the thick outline of it through the grey fabric. the dusky head of it rises from the waistband of his pants. 

his hand disappears into his pants. you can see his knuckles as he drags his hand down the length of his cock. you pay special attention as his hand reappears, thumb bullying the fat head of his dick. 

you hum, stretching your arms above your head. you extend one of your legs, the other leisurely arching against the mattress. 

you let your hands wander along your chest. you aren’t doing it to stimulate yourself but to draw jihoon’s attention. to help him along, you suppose. 

his eyes follow the trailing of your fingers. one of your hands cradles a tit, the thumb of your other pinching a nipple against your forefinger. 

eventually jihoon lets out a groan, dropping his head. short spurts of cum pulses from his cock, soaking his hand. jihoon continues to fuck his fist through it, hissing and letting out breath moans. 

you feel sedated; satisfied. so does he. jihoon crawls up the length of the bed to plop next to you. he doesn’t cuddle against you. he just lays his body next to you, thick muscle of his arm against yours. 

“no sex,” he breathes out. 

“no sex.”

W E E K  F I V E  

you are going to murder your teaching assistant. 

the halls of the history building are nearly vacant save for the lone straggler. lee jihoon has his office hours late enough in the day to where most classes are over. most everyone’s day is over. 

but you are far from being done. 

the ta offices are tucked back with the professor offices, closed off behind a heavy wood door that matches the old style of the rest of the building. you get to the door a few minutes before his office hours officially start, glaring down at the screenshot on your phone. 

While your writing response over Medea is sufficient, I am loath to remind you to use proper citations in the responses. Otherwise it will be considered plagiarism. As a warning, your letter grade for this assignment will fall a whole grade. 

again: you were going to murder him. 

why couldn’t he just let you off with a warning? why did he immediately jump to taking your grade for the assignment down? he was being completely unfair and you weren’t going to stand for it. 

the clock on your phone switched to a minute closer to his office hours. 

still five minutes away. 

whatever. 

you reach out for the door knob, twisting the cold metal in your hand. the door is heavy to open, but you jam your shoulder against it and swing it open. 

the teaching assistant office is a room with three desks pressed against the wall on each side. there’s hard, uncomfortable chairs; two sockets in the entire room. 

and lee jihoon, sitting in one of the chairs with his cock in his hand. 

immediately your boyfriend flinches, eyes wide as he looks towards you. once jihoon sees it is, in fact, you and not some poor student walking in to request help. 

then, like you weren’t even there, jihoon turns away and begins fucking into his hand once more. 

you hurry through the door, shoving it shut behind you and pushing in the lock. 

all the while you don’t look away from jihoon. 

his teeth sink into his lower lip, and his head tips back to reveal the long column of his pale throat. his black bangs fall around his face, not obscuring a single centimeter. 

jihoon’s hand works quickly, furiously, over his dick. precum drenches the head. when he drags his hand down he hisses, face wincing. 

you move across the room, shrugging your backpack onto the ground. 

the assignment and grade having left your mind entirely, you kneel before jihoon. he peers down at you, eyebrows raised wearily. “no sex,” he reminds you. 

“no sex,” you agree. 

you raise your hand to your face. it’s the easiest thing to spit into your palm, to replace jihoon’s hand with your own. as soon as you squeeze around his dick jihoon lets out a low, raspy noise. 

his cock is thick and perfect in your hand, the heavy weight of it tempting. you want it in your mouth; want him to be fucking his cock down your throat. 

instead you let him fuck your hand. you move your hand down. the slide is slightly rough, your spit and his precum not quite enough. jihoon likes it, though; you know he does. his breath is harsh and labored, his eyes squeezed shut. 

you twist your wrist as you move your hand towards the head of his cock. you press your thumb into the slit of his dock. 

“gonna cum,” he warns you. 

then you think back to your letter grade. 

meanly, perhaps even cruelly, you drop your hand to the base of his cock and squeeze, cutting off his orgasm. jihoon lets out a startled, irritated noise. 

“my assignment.”

“fuck,” he grumbles, one of his hands raising to push back his bangs. “are you serious?”

“let me off with a warning,” you say. you keep one hand around the base of his dick, tight and trapping. your other hand goes to his balls. you hold them, thumb gently swiping over the flesh. 

jihoon’s breath shutters in his throat. 

“a warning,” you demand. 

“fuck,” he says again. “fine. a warning.”

triumphant, you let a large smile take over your face. you begin to move your hand once again. 

W E E K  N I N E 

“now that you’ve finished properly with oedipus rex,” jihoon begins, rounding the table at the front of the classroom, “let’s get some opinions. raise your hand if you enjoyed the play.”

more hands than not raise around the room, including mingyu’s. you shoot him a betrayed look. the past nine class weeks the two of you had been close, sitting next to one another during lecture and discussion. you traded conversation and thoughts more often than not, using one another to bounce ideas and theories. 

and for him to have enjoyed the play? 

jihoon moves to lean against the desk. he crosses his arms over his chest. this time he’s wearing all black. it seems to lengthen his figure, stretch him out, as well as broaden the line of his shoulders. 

he looks good. 

“let’s get some opinions on people who didn’t like the play.” immediately his eyes are on you, calling out your name. “you didn’t enjoy the play.”

traitor. 

you shift in your seat. “uh. no, not really.”

“why?”

you were going to suffocate him in his sleep. 

“it’s rather –” you break off, searching for words. you weren’t the literary student; he was. “i don’t understand him, i guess.”

jihoon tilts his head. “him? sophocles? or oedipus?”

“oedipus,” you clarify. 

“can you explain a little further? what exactly don’t you understand?”

you bite down on your tongue for a moment, trying to gather yourself. the classroom is silent as you wait, unintentionally putting pressure on your shoulders as you realize they were all waiting for you to speak up. 

“he – oedipus – he’s sort of stupid, isn’t he?” someone chokes behind you. you ignore them, looking at jihoon. despite him putting you on the spot like an asshole, he’s still your boyfriend. his face isn’t harsh, isn’t judging as he watches you struggle for words. for a moment he isn’t your ta – he’s your boyfriend. he’s your boyfriend and you’re having a plain, casual discussion. “i mean. he knows the prophecy. but he just does whatever he wants anyways? he’s just – he’s got no common sense.”

jihoon hums, tapping his fingers along his forearms. “so his arrogance has made him entirely unlikable to you. are there any redeeming treats, do you think?”

you shake your head. “it makes him deserve his ending, i think. he thought he was above it all.”

jihoon nods. “i see. remember that argument for your paper. that’s a big question that needs answered: does oedipus deserve his ending? you could analyze that further and get a pretty solid base for your essay.”

he begins to question other students about whether they liked the story or not, leaving you alone. the remainder of class flows as such, ending with jihoon gently urging everyone to write down their thoughts to revisit for the essay. 

you gather your things and put them into your backpack. mingyu loiters next to you, hands stuffed into the pockets of his dark jeans. 

“what’re you doing after this?” he reaches down and grabs your backpack after you’ve zipped it up, slinging it onto his shoulder. “wanna hit the library? we could bounce some more ideas around.”

smiling, you begin to agree. 

jihoon calls your name, having gathered his own things and lodging his foot in the heavy wooden door, keeping it ajar. “do you mind coming with me to the office for a minute or two? i want to talk about what you’ve said during class.”

you swallow back a sigh, throwing jihoon a firm-lipped smile. mingyu swings your backpack back off his shoulder, handing it to you. “good luck.”

you make a face at him. mingyu doesn’t know the true nature of the relationship between you and jihoon, but he does know that you’ve visited jihoon during office hours more than once. not a week has gone by without you setting foot into the little ta office, setting your printed-out versions of whatever classic the class was working on. 

“print every story out,” jihoon had advised, voice carrying that air of superiority he always seemed to gain when the two of you were sat in the dark office. “mark it up. it’ll help you pay close attention to every line.”

jihoon leads you to the ta office, weaving through the throngs of students making their way through the marble halls. you sort of want to reach out and grab onto his shirt, just to ensure he stays visible. but you don’t. 

another ta is in the office, steadily working away at their own homework. she throws a smile at the two of you as you enter. “hey, jihoon.”

“hey.” he crosses into the room, setting his laptop in front of the chair that he had, only a few weeks ago, received a rather satisfactory hand-job from you in. “your office hours are over, aren’t they?”

the other ta nods. “yep. just working now. never seems to end.”

jihoon settles into the wooden chair, flipping up the screen to his laptop. he had to change it from the selfie the two of you had taken during a hike, matching dandelion flowers tucked into your ears. now a mountain range greets him. “we’re gonna be discussing oedipus rex.”

“won’t be a bother to me!”

you push over a chair close to jihoon, the feet of it scraping against the floor. 

“pull out your notes,” jihoon says. he pulls up his own version of the play on his computer; they’re scans of his own copy, scribbles and highlighted passages littering every single page. “we’ll go over what exactly prompted you to think this way about oedipus. it’ll help you get a real solid foundation for the essay.

“so,” he says once you have your notes spread out. “oedipus is a flawed character. there’s no doubt about it. the stage directions themselves reveal as much.”

as he talks, raspy voice droning on and words blending together in your mind, jihoon’s foot begins to slide across the floor. you can’t help but look at it, watch it. his black leather shoe moves from in front of him, slowly, silently, gliding across the floor to nudge against your own shoe. 

“he does whatever he wants, that’s what you said?”

you nod. 

“during discussion you mentioned that he knew the prophecy and ignored it,” jihoon says. his foot now fully rests against yours. it’s just one point of contact, and yet it seems to electrify you; warm you up. you can’t help but focus on it, like a cat watching a bird through the window. 

“but he doesn’t,” jihoon says. “he thoroughly believes his parents to be the king and queen of corinth. according to oedipus, and forgetting the context we ourselves know, he has escaped his fate.”

his words fade out. jihoon’s hands settle on his keyboard, a single finger absentmindedly tapping at a key. it’s not hard enough to do anything. it’s just a simple tap, a fumbling gesture. 

his shoe shifts. he presses his foot against yours from toe to heel. 

the other ta in the room begins to collect her things. you listen to her as she moves about, closing her laptop and shuffling papers. 

jihoon shifts in his chair. his knees spread out. his trousers strain, just slightly, against his thick thighs. the barest sliver of pale ankle slips out from beneath his trousers, his black socks hidden beneath the leather lip of his shoes. 

the ta opens the door; closes it behind her. 

“his character is one the citizens of greece would have identified with – at least the ones in athens,” jihoon says, and then he’s turning his face towards you. feeling rather caught, you meet his eyes. “so why do you think he deserves his ending?”

you furrow your brows. you’ve gone over this. “because he actively chooses it through his arrogance. he ignores the prophecy.”

jihoon sighs, lips pursing together. “you haven’t paid attention to a single word i’ve said.”

your mouth falls open a little. “i have!”

“haven’t,” he corrects. 

jihoon stands from the chair. you miss being able to see the skin of his ankle. he crosses the room, hand falling to the door knob. he locks it. “i think we need to work on your attention span, don’t you?”

your mouth goes dry. he begins to unbutton the cuffs of his black shirt as he moves back across the room. he pushes up his sleeves, shoving off his thick forearms. “jihoon?”

jihoon sits back in his wooden chair, legs automatically spreading out. one of his hands rests on the armrest of the chair, while he set his elbow on the other, using it to prop up his head. jihoon raises his brows at you. “well?”

“what?”

he sighs, as if burdened. “take off your pants and underwear.”

you snap your head towards the door. after verifying no one had magically walked through, you look back at jihoon, hissing his name. “what are you going on about?”

“we need to work on your memory,” he explains matter-of-factly, voice taking on that arrogant lilt he so often gets when in this room. jihoon likes this, you think; likes being in a position of power over you. likes being able to boss you around; able to tell you what to do. 

with one last glance at the door, you stand from your wooden chair. jihoon watches unabashedly as you work your pants down over your ass. you leave both your jeans and underwear on the hard floor of the office. 

jihoon pats his thigh wordlessly. 

you feel heat rush towards your cheeks. you’ve sat on his thighs before, have ridden them before. but it felt so fucking different to be lowering yourself onto the thick muscle in a university office, your hands on his shoulders to steady yourself, the backs of your hands lightly brushing against the wood of his chair. 

you don’t do anything for a moment other than just sit on his thigh. the fabric of his pants is like silk against your skin, and you can’t help but slowly, hesitantly, rock your hips down onto him. 

jihoon’s hands go to your hips. he tilts his head back, the curls framing his temples brushing against the corners of his eyes. 

“now,” he says, “you think oedipus ignores his prophecy.”

you look down at your boyfriend, pouting at him. “you’re punishing me because i have a different opinion than you? about some old play?”

jihoon presses his lips together. then his hand is coming down sharply on your outer thigh, the sound acutely piercing your ears and reverberating in your head. he rubs roughly at the skin after, thumb swiping against the patch of skin as it turns violent with anger from his slap. 

“because you’re ignoring the text,” jihoon says. his hand slides from your thigh around to your ass. his fingers dig into your asscheek, contemplating the weight of it. “it’d be one thing if you had actual evidence that wasn’t in conflict with what sophocles was telling us.”

“if you’re trying to get me wet,” you say, thumbs tapping against his shoulders, “i’m not sure this is the way to go.”

jihoon moves the hand that was on your ass back to your hips. he squeezes the flesh beneath his hands, and then he’s slowly leading you into a rocking motion. it’s not much, but there’s enough connection between your cunt and his thigh to have a gentle swell of lust licking at your pussy. 

“don’t be smart,” he says. 

“you act smart all the time,” you snap back. you keep rocking your hips. “why can’t i?”

he scoffs a little, nails slightly digging into your skin. instead of any pain, they send a little spark of heat through you. “i’ve got degrees in this,” he explains. “i’m literally allowed to talk about this.”

“now,” he says, “oedipus never ignores his fate. he says as much. he believes polybus and merope to be his parents. when he becomes doubtful, he confronts them: ‘. . . i went to mother and father, questioned them closely . . . so as for my parents i was satisfied . . .’”

for a moment you’re speechless. and then you let out a loud laugh despite yourself. “you little fucking nerd, reciting oedipus rex to your girlfriend while she’s rubbing herself on her thigh.”

jihoon’s jaw tightens. he moves, hands on your hips pushing you up and off of him. once you’re standing, he joins you. as soon as jihoon is on his feet he’s pushing you around, moving so your bare ass is against his front. then he pushes further, pressing your body against the table in front of you. the edge of your table reaches your upper thigh, and so it’s easy for jihoon to place his hand against the middle of your back and press you until your front is firmly against the surface of the table. 

as soon as your chin is touching the cold table, jihoon is bringing his hand down sharply against your ass. you can’t help but let out a startled shout, body jerking from underneath him. 

“be good,” he murmurs, hand now gentle as he rubs at your skin in apology. “listen to your ta. trying to help, baby.”

“you’re being mean,” you say, toes curling against the frigid office floor as his hand travels to rest against the curve of your ass. 

“wouldn’t have to be if you’d be good,” he says. jihoon moves his hand down, the tip of his forefinger gliding against the area where your ass and thigh meet. “you gonna be good for me?”

you shift, moving one of your arms so you can rest your face against it. forehead pressing against your forearm, you nod. 

“good. now oedipus believed polybus and merope to be his true parents. he was still desperate to avoid the prophecy, so he abandoned his princely title and corinth. he wanted to be free of it, baby.”

his fingers tip inwards. your entire body tenses as his fingertips press alongside your folds. he doesn’t do anything further; doesn’t insert them. instead he just keeps them there, absentmindedly shifting his hand. 

“he is arrogant,” jihoon absconds, allowing you a single point. “we see that in the beginning. ‘. . . the world knows my fame: i am oedipus.’”

jihoon waits for a moment after quoting the play. when you don’t do anything other than let out a shaky breath, he rewards you. jihoon slowly moves his fingers against your cunt. he trails his fingers up and down your length. he maps out the full expanse of your pussy. his fingers slide up over your hole, which was now leaking and clenching properly. he brushes his digits over your clit almost clinically, giving it no more attention than the rest of you. 

“but he doesn’t ignore the prophecy. he believes he’s foiled it until he forces the shepherd to tell his story. he refuses to stop; refuses to listen to reason. he’s arrogant, yes, and hurtles straight towards the horrid truth of his parentage and marriage without a second thought.”

jihoon slowly, tortuously, slips a single finger into your cunt. his finger isn’t so thick to cause any discomfort. instead your pussy welcomes it, clenching around the digit. you can’t help but bare down on his finger, hips searching for more.

later you’ll remember to be mortified by the fact your boyfriend got you wet while talking about sophocles. 

but now you press your eyes shut, fingers lightly scraping against the surface of the desk. 

jihoon pushes his finger all the way inside of your pussy. you can feel it when it’s fully in, his knuckles scraping against your flesh. 

you cart your hips back, trying to get his finger to graze that special spongey place. 

“be good,” jihoon says, and then he’s retracting his finger from your cunt entirely. 

you let out a small gasp, brow furrowing. you turn your head to peer back at him. “hoonie….”

jihoon laughs at you, and then he’s lowering himself to press his chest along the line of your back. jihoon presses a kiss to the corner of your lips, one of his hands still holding tight to your hips. “you’re so cute when i’m fucking you,” he says, mouth moving against your cheek as he speaks. “you always get so cute. what is this?”

you pout at him. jihoon presses another kiss to your cheek, and then he’s standing. 

this time jihoon slides in two fingers. you frown, insistently pressing your forehead against your forearm as the stretch of his fingers slightly burns. it’s not unpleasant, of course. just a gentle burn that signals the walls of your pussy stretching to accommodate him. 

“there,” he says, satisfied. “now. where was i?”

he’s silent. you realize he’s waiting for you to speak, to prove you were listening. 

you let out a strangled groan, trying to think back. he had a single finger inside of you and it wasn’t enough. you try to think. you try to think of a single word to say that isn’t fuck or more; try to think despite the way jihoon is slowly angling his fingers towards your front, pressing them up. 

you can’t help but press your thighs together in anticipation. 

jihoon clicks his tongue, and then he’s pulling his fingers out. you let out a whine, trying to push yourself away from the desk. 

both of his hands go to your shoulders, keeping you firmly against the surface. “stay still,” he warns you. “i know you have a listening problem but i didn’t think it was this bad.”

there’s a rustle of clothing behind you. “don’t look,” jihoon says. “keep your face against the table.”

you can’t think of a reply, can’t think of anything to do other than what he says. you wonder if you should feel ashamed of how easily you become compliant for him. 

“oedipus doesn’t ignore the prophecy,” jihoon restates, and then he’s pressing his front against your ass. he’s taken off his pants and is just in his underwear. you can feel the shape of his thick cock against your ass, can feel it’s hard length along you. “he just believes polybus and merope when they say they are his true parents. there’s no harm in that. anyone would want to believe it when the people who raise them say they are their true parents.”

jihoon rocks his hips against you. his hands are holding your hips still as he, essentially, humps against your ass. 

“so in that regard your argument has a fallacy,” jihoon announces. 

a fallacy? 

you want to say something biting about how he’s able to even think about fallacies and arguments when he’s humping your ass, but then jihoon is returning two of his fingers to your pussy and you elect to keep silent. 

“he is arrogant, though,” jihoon says. he pushes two of his fingertips into your hole. you clench hungrily around them as if your pussy was trying to suck them in. you wonder if you’ve always been so – so whorish for him, or if it was a recent development from not having been properly fucked in nine weeks. 

“his pride is something that transcends time,” jihoon carries on. he doesn’t press his fingers any deeper inside of you. he rests the tip of his ring finger just barely against your clit. he doesn’t move it either; just rests it there, taunting. 

“everyone can think of a political leader who is too arrogant for their own good,” jihoon says. “it’s a tale as old as time. sophocles set the precedent with this story. a king on top of the world who listens to no one, only to be brought down to his knees by fate.”

jihoon begins to slide his fingers in. he does it leisurely, slowly, as if he has all the time in the world. 

“the evolution of his character is a fascinating one,” jihoon says, his ring finger leaving its place to instead rest against your hole. he doesn’t slide it in. you want to buck your hips back and force it inside. “arrogance to being humbled in every sense of the word. he is only wise until he can no longer see; only sees the truth once he is blinded

“do you remember,” jihoon says, “what he says after he blinds himself?”

you shake your head against your arm. his two fingers are nearly settled entirely inside of your pussy. you want them so deep inside of you that you can feel them in your throat. 

involuntarily you clench around his digits. 

jihoon clicks his tongue. his fingers stop moving in you. “what did i say? be good. none of this shit.”

you let out a little whine, your free hand curling into a fist. “sorry,” you say, unable to keep your voice from pitching up in desperation. “i’m sorry, hoonie.”

“say you won’t move,” jihoon instructs, voice seemingly detached. “say you’ll be a good girl for me and won’t move.”

your lower lip wobbles. you feel somewhat humiliated like this: your front pressing against the surface of a ta desk, shirt rucked up along your stomach and bare toes curling against the marble floors of the university history building. your boyfriend pressing all up against you, fingers stuffed into your cunt, telling you what to do as if you were some pathetic whore, desperate for a cock inside. 

but, because you are exactly that, you repeat his words, feeling wetness trickle from your pussy. “i’ll be good,” you whimper out. “i won’t move. i’ll be a good girl.”

jihoon lets out a quiet, nearly-silent huff of laughter. he retracts his fingers from your pussy, and immediately you’re feeling panic strike you. 

“be patient,” he chides you as you begin to press back against him. three of jihoon’s press against your hole. “be a good girl.”

jihoon pushes his three fingers into your pussy. you let out a high keening noise like a wounded animal, eyes squeezing shut and cunt eagerly drinking his fingers up. they’re nothing like his dick, aren’t as thick or delicious, but they’re something. 

the stretch burns and you wiggle absentmindedly, relishing in it. the burn is acute and hot and you yearn to press into it, to take more and more and more. 

“good,” he says once all three of his fingers are stuffed inside of you. “you look pretty like this, baby. you know that?”

you whine. you don’t move. 

jihoon’s three fingers press up, and when they bump against your bundle of nerves you can’t help but wiggle back, searching. 

“do you remember?” he repeats. “what’s the first thing oedipus says after he’s blinded?”

you shake your head. you don’t know how he expects you to think about anything. you feel as if you’ve been strung along, as if he’s been tugging at a chain and you’ve been stumbling behind him. 

“‘oh,” jihoon quotes, and then he’s lowering himself to press against you. his mouth it against your ear, his fingers shifting within your pussy due to his change of position. when he speaks again you can hear his voice as clear as day despite how he murmurs, and it’s as if he’s wrapped entirely around you; as if he’s consumed you. “‘oh, the agony! i am agony.’”

jihoon presses his fingers back into you so the tips of them were pressing against your pleasure spot once more. 

“he’s felt true agony now,” jihoon explains. he keeps his fingers still now. “he’s an icarus fallen to the earth. his wings of wax have melted. he’s a king with his word left in crumbles; with his queen dead and children made of sin. he’s nothing.”

jihoon’s nose presses against the shell of your ear. “his arrogance was his destruction. can you tell me more about it?”

you open your mouth to speak. you can’t. and even if you could, it isn’t as if your brain is working. there’s nothing inside of your mind. the lust, the desire, that takes over your body is so big it swallows up everything else and renders you dumb. 

jihoon huffs out a laugh, mean. “fine. at least do this to prove you’ve listened to me: tell me the first thing oedipus says after becoming blind.”

you feel as if he’s surrounding you. you can feel jihoon’s weight along your back, can feel his fingers inside of your cunt, stretching you out. you feel so keyed up, so ready for something. not something – him. you want jihoon. you want him carnally. you want his dick stuffed inside of your pussy. you want his mouth on your neck; want his hands on your tits. you want him pressing your face into the desk and drilling into your pussy. 

you open your mouth. an embarrassing noise comes out. 

“come on,” jihoon says. “you can do it.”

“‘oh,’” you breathe out, trying to remember the exact words. “oh, agony! i’m — i’m agony!”

jihoon must judge your vague quotation as good enough. he moves off of your back, and you can’t help but whine, wanting his weight settled against you once more. 

his hand shifts inside of you. 

he slides his fingers out. you can feel your cunt resisting the slide, pussy clenching down on his fingers. 

“hoonie,” you beg. 

“be good,” he chides you. “remember. no sex.”

and then jihoon is thrusting his fingers so forcefully into your pussy that you can feel the sting as his knuckles hit your ass. the sharp noise of skin hitting skin rings out. you can barely process it before he’s withdrawing his fingers and fucking them back in just as quickly. 

jihoon finger-fucks you harshly, as if it were his dick he was shoving inside. your ass jiggles with each thrust back in. you whine and cry, and you can feel your ass begin to smarten from the sting. but you still arch back and meet each thrust of his fingers eagerly, craving the pleasure-pain. 

it’s rough and you can feel the orgasm, that string he had been messing with for what seems to be hours, begin to tighten. 

“want,” you pant out, fingernails scraping against the desk. “want you, hoonie. please, please, please.”

“beg, baby.”

you let out a cry. there’s tears at the corners of your eyes. “please, hoonie. i want you. want you, want you. i want you, hoonie.”

your voice breaks off, tight with emotion. 

jihoon lets out a curse, and then he’s dropping behind you. jihoon shoves your leg up, and you follow suit, placing your knee on the able and giving him access to your pussy. jihoon shoves a hand against your thigh, keeping it in place on the table. 

his mouth licks a stripe from where his fingers plunge into your pussy to your clit, taking that aching muscle between his lips and suckling. 

when you orgasm it’s harsh and loud, fluids gushing from your pussy and soaking jihoon’s face. he takes you into his arms, pulling you to the floor with him and pressing kisses to your face. 

“good girl,” he murmurs, voice raspy and comforting. the office is drenched in the smell of pussy – of your pussy – and his nose shines with your release. he ignores it, his clean hand pushing back stray strands of hair from your face so he can press a sweet kiss to your nose. “good girl.”

W E E K  T H I R T E E N

you think, fleetingly, that you’re not being fair. 

but then you remember that girl – girl, because she can’t be any older than eighteen, fresh out of high school and far too young to be sniffing around your boyfriend – and how she pressed close to jihoon as she showed him something on her computer, and you can’t help but think you’re not being harsh enough. 

with that in the forefront of your mind, you ease the hot pink dildo in your aching cunt. you can feel fluid gush from your pussy, a slick combination of your own desire and the generous amount of lube you had massaged onto the dildo. 

the stretch burns, stretching the walls of your pussy. it’s a stark, acute contrast to the three fingers you used to stretch yourself, and you couldn’t help but arch your back up off of jihoon’s couch, toes curling and mouth dropping open. 

you can feel the fluids leak down your pussy, sliding along the curve of your ass. 

good, you think. sink into the fabric of the couch so from now on, whenever he sits here, he has to smell your cunt. 

your hand stills once the base of the dildo is flush against your ass. you shift, hips tilting as you try to relieve some of the sting. 

you stretch out for your phone, glancing at the time. the dildo is pushed from your pussy by the movement. 

jihoon will be home any minute. your hand returns to the dildo, pushing it back into your pussy. your cunt sucks it in, eager and greedy. 

clenching down on the dildo, you can’t help the thrill of satisfaction that shoots through you. you feel so delightfully full, as if some part of you was a gaping hole that needed to be filled. 

well – 

you suppose that line of thought isn’t too wrong. 

you grab the dildo, fingernails digging slightly into the jelly-like texture. you slide the dildo from your cunt. despite how much lube you used, despite how wet your cunt is, the dildo still is slow to slide out, your pussy clamping down to try and keep it in place. 

you pull it out until just the tip of the dildo is pressed against your hole. your juices glint evilly on the dildo, a long, thick string along the side of it. 

slowly you ease it back inside. you tip your head back, foot pressing down on the cushion of the couch in an attempt to mentally steady yourself. it’s a dragging sensation that has impatience licking at your brain, trying to push its way to the forefront. 

you pump the dildo in and out, in and out, until you are satisfied that the burn from your pussy stretching to accommodate it is no more. 

you draw it out. 

and then you force it back in, sharp enough for the gelatin balls to slap against your ass in a poor mimicry of the real thing. 

your free hand goes to your tit, framing a pebbled nipple between two of your fingers. you massage it, pull it, as you harshly fuck the dildo in, soft pants escaping your mouth as your body begins to ignite with pleasure and the wanton desire for more. 

you can’t help but want. it’s as if the desire is written into your dna, lining the fabric of your entire being. you want to be fucked, want to be thrown onto your front and taken from behind; want jihoon fucking his fat cock into your pussy in one swift motion, forcing your pussy to stretch around him. 

you want jihoon. 

you could devour him, you think as you crook the dildo up towards the front of your body, searching for your g-spot. you would devour him whole. you would take and take from him until he’s entirely yours, body and soul. 

the lock to the door clicks. you hurriedly bring the fingers messing with your nipple up to your mouth, licking at them before taking the nub between them and rolling. 

the front door to jihoon’s apartment swings open, your boyfriend stepping through. his eyes immediately catch on you, naked and wanton. 

“what – fuck –” he shoves the door shut behind him, loud and firm. “what the fuck are you doing?!”

you slide the dildo from your pussy, slow and torturous, ensuring he’s watching. jihoon’s eyes, naturally, flick down to your pussy. the dildo is still slick with fluid, and you can where the more dense of your fluids stain the pink of the dick. 

“what are you doing,” he repeats, dropping his leather bag to the floor. 

“taking matters – ah,” you moan out, massaging your gummy g-spot with the head of the dick. “taking matters into my own hands, jihoon; what else?”

his hands go to his shirt. jihoon hurriedly pushes at the buttons of his white dress shirt, letting it fall to the floor after he’s done. his trousers follow suit, and he leaves them behind with his shoes and socks. 

“what are you doing?” you grin at jihoon toothily, echoing his words. “no sex, remember?”

jihoon moves towards you regardless. he had done his hair that morning, gelling it back. now a few stray strands frame his temples, giving him a perfectly disheveled look. his tank top does nothing to conceal his collar bones, the line of his shoulders proud and wide. 

his hands find your thighs. he separates your legs, baring your pussy entirely. 

you still your hand, just keeping the dildo snug inside of you, refusing to move it further. “what are you doing, jihoon?”

“looking,” he retorts, eyes dancing around your body as he takes you in. you think you look like some perverted creature, carnal desire and desperation written onto every centimeter of skin. 

“don’t touch,” you chide him, moving an leg from his grasp. jihoon tightens his hold on the other as you press your foot against his chest, lightly pressing in a piss-poor attempt to push him back. 

jihoon rolls his eyes at you, nose crinkling and mouth twisting into a sneer. 

“oh,” you breathe out, sheathing the dildo fully inside once more. his eyes meet yours. you let a grin take over, unable to help but tease him. “‘oh, the agony! i am agony!’ isn’t that right, hoonie?”

for a split second you can see shock take over jihoon’s features, catlike eyes widening. a strike of triumph hits you, feeling as if you are the cat that got the canary. 

but then jihoon is grabbing the dildo from your hand. he pulls it out, the slide making your mouth drop in a gasp and body arch up off of the couch. 

“h – hoonie –!”

“agony,” he hisses, and then jihoon is shoving his boxers down to his knees. 

his cock bounces from his underwear, slapping against the fabric of his tank-top. it’s thick and angry, and when he runs his hand along it, rubbing at the head, a thick marble of precum leaks from it. 

“no – no sex,” you say, voice hoarse as you subconsciously keep your eyes on his cock. you’ve been starving for jihoon’s dick for so long, and here it is, thick and pulsing in front of you. 

and like a starving woman in front of a table overflowing with food, you eagerly welcome jihoon’s dick when he presses the tip against your hole. you spread your legs, knees knocking against his hips as he presses against you. 

jihoon keeps his dick in hand, not entering you. he rubs his dick up between your folds, a soft curse escaping his lips at how wet you are. once he’s at your clit he stops, rubbing the head of his dick against you. 

“fuck –” your voice is taking on a whining tone, and you can’t help but fleetingly wonder what happened to you showing jihoon who’s boss, making him witness just what he’s missing. but that thought is gone from your mind as soon as it enters, and instead you’/re pleading with jihoon. “please, hoonie – please fuck me, please.”

he sighs, the tip of his cock pressing against your hole. still, he doesn’t enter you. “i thought we agreed on no sex,” he says. “no sex until the semester is over.”

you cry out, hips trying to shift upwards and force his dick inside. jihoon pulls back. “please – put it in. it won’t count – won’t count if you don’t cum in me, yeah? won’t count if i don’t cum around your dick.”

jihoon lets out a loud, shivering groan that seems to release from the depths of his soul. 

jihoon presses his dick into your cunt. the head pops past your entrance, and then he’s sliding home. 

your pussy takes jihoon eagerly, sufficiently prepared by your fingers and the dildo. his dick is just slightly thicker than the dildo, and so there is a pleasurable sting that burns at your core. it’s not horrible, and you let out a moan as you cant your hips up. 

jihoon doesn’t stop pressing into you until his balls are against your ass. his hands are on either of your legs, keeping you spread for him. jihoon uses his grip on you to push himself back, bringing his cock out of your cunt slowly. the drag of his dick is delicious, is everything you’ve been missing for months. 

you’re not sure if this is just because you haven’t been fucked appropriately since august and it’s in the middle of november, but you feel completely overwhelmed by jihoon. 

his cock feels so good inside of you. it’s thick and warm, and when he shifts his dick presses up towards your core. his blunt head presses against your g-spot, and you can’t help the little mewl of approval that escapes you. 

“feels good,” he breathes out. his eyes flutter, nails digging into your skin. “you feel so fucking good.”

jihoon pulls his hips back, leaving your pussy save for the tip of his dick. he lingers, the fat head of his dick keeping you plugged. 

when jihoon thrusts in, it’s rough and well-aimed for your g-spot. you let out a shrill noise, eyes rolling back. you don’t know if sex has ever felt like this before – if you’ve ever felt so overwhelmed just by a single thrust. 

your hands scramble, grabbing at the couch. “hoonie!”

he slides out; fucks back in. 

jihoon’s pace is rough, as if he’s making up for lost time. as if he’s determined to mold your pussy back into the shape of his dick. he uses your pussy, uses you. he uses your cunt in an almost detached way, as if you were some random fuck and not his treasured girlfriend. 

eventually jihoon is pulling from your cunt with a strangled moan. his dick is drenched with your fluids, thick strings decorating it like lewd jewelry. jihoon palms his dick, and then he’s thrusting into his hand once, twice, thrice before he cums onto your stomach. 

he lets out a moan, a gasp of your own joining. his cum is thick and hot. you want to shove it into your pussy. 

jihoon’s hands go back to your thighs, and then he’s dropping to his knees. 

“can’t wait to fuck you,” he groans, “can’t wait to fill you up. as soon as finals are over, you’re mine. got it? you’re mine.”

then his tongue is licking a stripe up from your cunt to your clit, and all other thoughts leave you. 

W E E K  S I X T E E N

the lecture hall, just like most of the rest of campus, is nearly deserted. 

you had left your apartment as soon as the email about your final grade dinged your phone, delight and want immediately turning at your stomach. you had been looking forward to this day for months: the day you and jihoon were finally free to fuck (and publicly be in a relationship, but that wasn’t the most pressing matter at the moment). 

jihoon was at the front of the large room, talking to the last stragglers of the exam he had to oversee. you rush down the steps, unable to help the broad smile on your face. 

your boyfriend looks up as you thunder down the auditorium, and you catch the moment his own face breaks out into a wide grin. 

he calls out your name as you step off of the last step. 

the student he’s talking to waves goodbye, and you take the spot where he had been standing. 

“hey,” you say, unable to keep your smile tamed. “how’s it going?”

jihoon rolls his eyes at you, folding his arms over his chest. this close to him you could smell his cologne, the sharp smells of amber and vanilla. he was wearing his white dress shirt again, though this time it was dressed up with a simple black tie. 

“glad it’s over,” jihoon murmurs. 

you glance around the room. there’s two girls at the back, talking excitedly as one of them packs up their things. 

“took you forever to grade the exams.”

jihoon scoffs. “as if. you turned it in last night at midnight.”

you shrug. the girls begin to make their way out of the room, calling out good-byes to jihoon. 

“all things considered,” he says, raising a hand in acknowledgement towards the girls, “this semester wasn’t so bad.”

you laugh at him. “it’s been agony to me,” you say, knowing how loaded the word is for the both of you. 

the heavy wooden doors shut solemnly behind the girls. it’s as if a switch flicks off in jihoon’s mind. his eyes visibly soften before you, his smile taking on a gentler shape. 

“i missed you,” he says. he doesn’t say anything else; that isn’t jihoon’s way. he’d write a thousand poems for you and keep them locked away. he’ll say three words, i missed you, and his meaning will include a hundred other things: i love you; i adore you; i want you close to me always; you bewitch me. 

“i missed you, too,” you echo, hoping he feels the weight of your simple response. 

jihoon keeps his face passive as he opens his arms, and you go easily into his embrace. you burrow your face into his neck, breathing him in. he wraps his thick arms around you, pressing you close to his body. 

for a moment the two of you just exist in this little universe. 

jihoon is the first to pull away, though he doesn’t go far. as if magnetic, you tilt your lips towards him, meeting his mouth halfway. 

the kiss begins gentle and solemn. it’s the end of a sentence, finishing the semester, which had been filled with tension and desperation, with a sweet embrace and soft lips. 

you separate your mouth from his. you skim your lips along his chin, following the edge of his jaw. you trace the edges of his face with your mouth, trying to memorize the shape of him. 

“i missed you,” you say again. 

jihoon is silent. he sinks a hand into your hair, cradling the back of your head. he guides your face back to his, his lips pressing a long kiss to yours. 

this time when jihoon kisses you it’s firm. his mouth is insistent against yours, devouring you in a way that leaves you breathless. he presses you back, his tongue sliding past your lips. 

jihoon walks you backwards until your thighs are bumping against the table. he keeps your head still, tongue licking into your mouth and exploring. 

his free hand slides beneath your shirt, grabbing at the flesh of your hip. 

“hoonie,” you say, pulling back from his mouth. jihoon hums, pressing kisses to the corner of your mouth. “want you.”

“got me,” he returns. 

despite his gentle words, jihoon’s hands move quickly against you. he tosses your shirt and bra aside, mouth attaching to your neck as soon as you are bare. his hand slides down to the waistband of your pants, fingers dipping past it. jihoon presses open-mouthed kisses to your skin, eager to reefamiliarize himself with your body entirely. his nips at the curve of your tit, and then his mouth is suckling at a pebbled nippple. 

you whine against him. you run your hands overh im. you feel the curve of his own pecs, feel the flat plane of his stomach, still hidden by his shirt. you tug at his tie, and then you’re molding your hand against his straining erection. 

jihoon groans against you. “careful,” he says. 

“we shouldn’t get too carried away,” you return. your fingers find the button of his trousers nonetheless. it’s the easiest thing to pop it through the hole, loosening his pants. “we should go home. anyone could walk in.”

“‘oh, the agony,’” jihoon says, and then he’s turning you around and pressing you against the table. 

he’s quick to pull your pants and underwear to your ankles. jihoon helps you step out of them, leaving them in a discarded mess by the leg of the table. 

he smooths his hands over your legs and thighs as he stands, his tough heavy and warm. jihoon positions you; slides his hand along your leg and pushes it up onto the table, foot dangling over the edge. 

he slides two of his fingers inside of your pussy. you clench down on the intrusion, biting down on your lip. 

“don’t –” you sigh out, turning over your shoulder to look at him. “i’m ready.”

jihoon blinks at you for a moment, and then he’s cursing. “slut,” he says, though his lips twitch up into a grin. 

he doesn’t bother undressing all the way. you can feel the fabric of his pants bunch against your ass when his cock is buried deep inside. his cock stretches you so delightfully. you feel as if you’re finally whole after an eternity of missing something. 

maybe you really are a slut. 

jihoon slides his dick out slowly, making you feel every centimeter of his cock. the glide is nearly on the side of too-dry, but your eyes roll back nonetheless, nails scraping against the wood of the table. 

“fuck,” he breathes out, and then he’s punching his dick back into your pussy. 

you rock forward on the table, the edge of it digging into you. you don’t mind it. instead you push back, meeting his thrust. 

“missed you,” jihoon says. you wonder if he’s talking about your pussy. you wouldn’t blame him if he was: you missed his cock, afterall. 

you missed out his dick feels within you, heavy and stretching you out. you missed how he fucks into you, how his hips slap against your ass. you missed the sting of him fucking you, the sting of skin against skin coupled with the electric sparks of pleasure that shoot through you when the blunt head of his cock hits your g-spot. 

jihoon fucks you as if you were reuniting. which, you suppose, you are. he fucks you as if he’s treasuring each thrust, as if he’s making sure each rock of his hips is perfect to make up for lost time. 

you can feel the fabric of his shirt when jihoon presses his front against your back. his black tie dangles beside your face. he uses his weight to keep you against the table, his hips picking up pace. 

he practically jackrabbits into your pussy, hips frantic. 

“missed you,” he says, and then he’s grabbing your face to press another open-mouthed kiss to your lips. there’s no finesse: it’s just as messy as the way he fucks you. spit slides from mouth to mouth, tongues meeting and tangling. 

he’s devouring you, you realize. he’s gobbling you up, owning you inside and out. 

jihoon reaches down, his fingers finding your clit easily. he slips his fingers against your clit, the wetness of your pussy making the glide easy. his fingers against your clit are just as frantic as his hips fucking into you, and the combined sensation brings your orgasm crashing down around you more quickly than you would like. 

he slows his hips to a stop as you cum around his cock, whining high at the back of your throat. it’s overwhelming. you haven’t cum around his dick in months. his cock stretches you still, and every minute shift of your hips back against him has his dick pressing against all the sensitive places. 

“good?” his voice is raspy against your hair. 

you nod. 

jihoon pulls back, and you hiss at the feeling of his dick leaving your pussy. 

he doesn’t stay gone for long. jihoon maneuvers you onto your back. he grabs each of your thighs, holding them up and baring you to him. you can feel the juices of your release as they slide down your cunt. 

he thrusts back in. immediately you’re tossing your head back against the table, eyes rolling back. your toes curl. 

jihoon hooks your legs over the crook of each of his arms, and then he’s setting a harsh pace once again. his grunts are loud againsts the quiet of the room, the slapping of skin against skin sending heat rushing up towards your face. you feel too high strung, feel as if your neurons and electrons are buzzing around underneath your skin. you want to move away from his cock and how it tortures you, pressing against your g-spot as sensitivity rears its ugly head; you want to fuck down onto his dick until you’re unable to walk. 

when jihoon cums, it’s copious. it’s too much. you feel his dick throb within you as he spills, filling you with hot seed. it’s so much; you want more. 

jihoon pulls his dick from your pussy only once he’s finished. he isn’t done with you, though. 

he slaps his palm against your cunt, the sensation acute and electric. 

you want to cry. you don’t want him to ever stop. 

jihoon slaps your cunt again, and then he’s hooking three of his fingers inside of your pussy. he thrusts him inside in the same fashion he did his cock: harshly, roughly. the sting of his knuckles against your flesh isn’t unlike the sting of his hips. 

when you cum, it’s with a loud sob. he presses the fingers of his free hand against your clit, rubbing it once more while his fingers keep pressing up against your g-spot, relentless in his mission of wringing you dry. 

after it’s over, you hold out your arms. 

jihoon gathers you into his embrace easily, pressing a kiss to your forehead. you know you should hurry and dress, know that it’ll be a matter of time before someone wanders into the room. 

you don’t care. 

instead you just bask in the attention of your boyfriend, forehead pressing to his shoulder. 

[ktownshizzle]

Masterlist

My name is K and this is the byproduct of my Min Yoongi and Bangtan Sonyeondan brainrot.

Please remember all stories herein are purely fiction. I do not claim to know BTS irl. I put warnings in every chapter. Please be guided by them, so you can have an enjoyable reading experience. I do not have an upload schedule. I will turn on my requests soon, but for now please enjoy my ongoing and completed stories below.

About Me | WIP update | Buy me a ko-fi

Join my permanent taglist

Requests are closed as of 11/08

Minors DNI

Wild & Free

Status: Completed

Part 1 | Part 2

Summary: Everybody says they want to marry Min Yoongi. But what if he only wants to say 'yes' to you. Alternatively: While on the last leg of their PTD tour, Yoongi discovers there was such a thing as drive-thru weddings in Las Vegas - spontaneous, wild, exciting - something his pretty little brain can't seem to process having lived the last decade of his life planned to perfection by his management team, which includes you. When he goes down a rabbit hole of Youtube videos about The Little White Wedding Chapel (Omo! Michael Jordan got married there!), he starts getting all sorts of ideas - all of it starring him and you. Genre: Fluff, Angst, Eventual Smut, Childhood friends to lovers, Idol!au, Coworkers to lovers (reader is a HYBE employee)

Terms & Conditions

Status: Ongoing

⋆.˚ Series Masterlist ⋆.˚

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 Teaser | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6

Summary: Managing Min Yoongi as one of your encoders during his alternative military service should’ve been simple. He is quiet, punctual—and can apparently type as fast as he can rap! Not to mention the fact that he is easy on the eyes and keeps wanting to help you. You’ve signed an iron-clad NDA, detailing the full terms and conditions of his temporary employment, so you’re supposed to keep things professional, but what happens if neither of you wants to? Genre: Fluff, eventual smut, co-workers to lovers, office romance, idol!au

Love & Lullabies

Status: Ongoing

⋆.˚ Series Masterlist ⋆.˚

Teaser | Part 1 | Part 2 Teaser | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 4.5 | Part 5

Summary: What begins as a simple favor for your best friend Namjoon soon pulls you into the rhythms of Yoongi’s life—afternoons spent caring for his son, late nights filled with candid conversations, and a connection neither of you thought you needed. You’re fresh out of a long-term relationship with an ex who didn’t want a family with you, so did you really just stumble into a life you’ve always dreamed of? (Thank god Namjoon isn’t the only one who’s clumsy.) Alternatively: It’s 2025 and BTS is prepping for their comeback. All members seem to have gained muscle weight from their time at camp. But Min Yoongi has gained a different kind of weight—an 8-pound baby and a fuck-load of responsibility. Genre: Fluff, Angst, Smut (tbd), idol!au, Acquaintances to Lovers, Reader is Namjoon’s bestie

Friends & Fools

Status: Completed

Click here

Summary: You and Yoongi have always been just friends—inseparable since childhood, roommates in the city, partners in navigating life’s chaos. At your high school reunion, the questions start: Are you two finally together? Uh, no. But as the night goes on, and Yoongi looks at you like that, hmm—has everyone else seen something you’ve been too scared to admit? Genre: Fluff, Suggestive, non-idol!au, best friends & roommates to lovers

A Christmas Encore {Holiday Fic}

Status: Completed

Part One | Part Two

Summary: You never thought you’d see Min Yoongi again, not in this lifetime, not in this place. He left years ago with big dreams and bigger talent, trading snow-covered Seollim Hollow for the city lights of Seoul. But now, with the cultural center—the heart of your hometown—on the verge of being sold to a soulless corporation, you’ll do anything to save it. When Yoongi appears on your doorstep, it feels like a miracle wrapped in regret. But as the two of you work together to save the center, old promises resurface, along with feelings you thought you’d left behind. Can you trust someone who was never meant to stay? Or will you just get hurt again? Genre: Childhood Friends to Kinda Lovers to Kinda Strangers to Friends to Lovers (WHAT?! Yeah I got dizzy too) Second chances basically, Fluff, Smut, Mild Angst, Very Hallmark

Let Me Love You {Song fic Drabble}

Status: Pending

Click here for the Preview

Honey & Citrus

Status: Completed Read here

Summary: You haaate your job, but at least there’s this sexy eye-candy at your favorite cafe to distract you from your miserable 9 to forever grind. Your simple, casual nods with him, turn into a silent caffeine war when, after his small act of kindness, you buy him his coffee—and he refuses to let the favor go unanswered. Suddenly, you’re locked in a daily battle of who pays first, and just when you think you’ve reached a stalemate, fate (and a very nosy barista) throws in a twist you never saw coming.

That Tricky Hickey

Status: Completed Read here

Anonymous asked: Very specific request: Yoongi and you are into each other except he doesn't make it obvious. You guys are complete opposites (you're extroverted and emo and he's introverted and into rap). Your bff is dating Jimin. You + maknae line + Yoongi go on vacation. Long story short Yoongi gets mad that they're flirting with you and he proceeds to get drunk. The boys have to wake you up to take Yoongi to his room and put him to bed because he keeps asking for you. Yoongi asks you to sleep in his bed with him and gives you some pjs. He then starts marking your neck and confesses to liking you and you put a subtle stop to it because he is drunk and rub his back so he can fall sleep (fluff ). The next morning he sees your neck and is mortified but you decide to be bold and straddle him (whatever smut you want to write) and yeah that's pretty much it. I've never made a request before but it's my take of the classic there's only one bed to share situation :) You're very talented and I love your writing!

Nerd & Nerdier

Status: Ongoing Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

Summary: Moving in with two introverts should have been easy. Not when it’s Min Yoongi and Jeon Wonwoo, who decide they both want you. Unhinged, awkward, and nerdy as hell, they proceed to compete for your attention in the most unnecessarily dramatic fashion that culminates into a… rap battle.

Sweet & Spicy

Status: Completed

Read here

Summary: Turns out some cravings are just so hard to ignore. Genre: Fluffy fluff, idol!au, strangers to ?, Reader is ARMY

Yet to come

Yet to come

Yet to come

Yet to come

Yet to come

Banners by the uber talented @glossdebut

[hoffmansgirl]

A LITTLE BIT SCANDALOUS ...

... BUT BABY, DON'T LET THEM SEE IT

♡  🕋  ᪤  𝓘𝗡𝗧𝗥𝗢  𔘓 !  #  𝗗𝗨𝒞𝗜𝗡𝓖. .. . 👛 ᯤ ა

★̶̲ ‟ . .. . bratty!stepsister!reader

␥ ‎○˳ bratty!stepsis reader that caught nicholas' eye the second she walked in into his house. the pure hatred they had for each other is not something that went unnoticed by their parents. fighting about the most stupid and littlest things imaginable, the constant hatred and venom soon turning into something different — deeper. something that went beyond their control and beyond their parents' notice.

␥ ○˳ maybe it was the way she carried herself so effortlessly — maybe it was the unmissable similarity between her and nicholas' personalities. her playful remarks, his teasing replies, the not-so-innocent touches under the blanket, supported by nothing but the pure hate they had for each other. or at least that's what they thought, at first.

␥ ○˳ bratty!stepsis!reader that walks around the house with nothing but her — his — t-shirt on when nicholas' friends are over. the subtle swaying of her lips, bottom lip caught between her teeth as she hears one of her stepbrother's friends comment on how hot of a stepsister he has.

␥ ○˳ bratty!stepsis!reader that, for some unknown reason, always finds herself in her stepbrother's bed every single night. with his hand covering her mouth and his gravelly voice whispering not-so-sweet nothings into her ear while he pounds her into the mattress, she can't help but feel it's riiight where she belongs.

␥ ○˳ nicholas taming his lil bratty!stepsister!reader just for her to be a complete bitch the day after, and after... and after.

␥ ○˳ bratty!stepsister!reader that's the only one that can actually get nicholas to listen — if he's in the mood to do so. with his cock twitching in his pants and knees digging into the marble bathroom floor, mouth devouring her as if he's a man possessed, he can't help but surrender completely to the woman above him.

␥ ‎○˳ as much as he hates to admit it, he loves it — he sees it as a challenge. forbidden, but so tempting. annoying, but oh so good when he can finally bury himself to the hilt and let go, paint his little stepsister's walls white — claim her as his for no one but them to know.

␥ ○˳ bratty!stepsis!reader that belongs completely and totally to nicholas, and nicholas, that belongs to his little stepsister. no matter how many people recur in her and nicholas' beds every few days, somehow they always find themselves tangled in each other's sheets by the end of the night.

‣ ✮ . . now playing .ᐣ into you — ariana grande. temporary fix — one direction. stargirl interlude — the weeknd (feat. lana del rey). diet pepsi — addison rae. do i wanna know? — arctic monkeys. dirty little secret — nessa barrett. you right — doja cat & the weeknd. like i would — zayn. if walls could talk — 5 seconds of summer. buwyg,ib — ariana grande. no shame — 5 seconds of summer ++ more .ᐟ

𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐀𝐔 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐍. stepcest. cheating. perv!nicholas. rough name calling. manhandling. pain kink. somnophilia. dacryphilia. veery public sex. impact play. blood kink / blood. switch nicholas/switch reader. mutual pining. sneaking around. graphic smut descriptions (as per usual with my fics). › ⊂ will be updated ⊃ ╰ minors do not interact. ᘒ ˖˙‹𝟯

⎯ ɞ requests for STEPBROTHER NICHOLAS X BRATTY!STEPSIS AU are open. please don't steal my ideas, concept or any part of this au. this is pure fiction, remember that before sending hate in my inbox.

for: @urlitttlevenicebitch @iamsebastiansstan i love you 🤍 @greengoblinswifey @blackynsupremacy @chavezwifeyy @nickchavezs @nicholaslut @darlingnikkisixxxx @niteskysx (please let me know if you'd want to be on this au's taglist) ♡

[from-m-izzy]

diving in | tbz eric sohn

“you said you wanted to surf with me. Let me show you something while I’m at it.”

pairing » the boyz eric sohn x fem!reader

trope/au » established relationship, non-idol au!

genre »​ smut 18+ (PLEASE MDNI!!) 🔞 (kinda) surfer eric, some fluff

word count; estimated reading time » 1970; ~8 mins

warnings (lmk if i missed anything!) » dom!eric, sub!reader, public sex (on a surfboard in the ocean, quite far away from the rest of the crowd), praising (reader receiving), dirty talk (not explicit), begging (reader to eric), pet name (baby girl, pretty girl), nickname (buff puppy; reader to eric), fingering (reader receiving), marking and kisses on skin (reader receiving), reader has medium-long hair, reader wears a bikini, eric is shirtless, eric and reader are the same height, eric implied to have a bigger build, orgasm denial (once), cum tasting (eric to reader)

navi/masterlist!! 🤍

happy birthday bubba @mosviqu 🥰 just a little something for you 🫂 thank you for proofreading and helping with warnings last minute @sanaxo-o 🥰

In between your chaotic university schedule and unhelpful teammates in your group work, came Eric's idea to take a day at the beach. You're more than enlightened at the idea, already sorting the day's wardrobe in your head.

Now, the toasted sand tickles between the crevices and around your bare feet, but you don't flinch, feeling your muscles relax instead. Your exposed stomach and back bask in the sun, delightful at the kiss from the sun. Eric walks beside you, his right hand protectively landing on your waist, pulling you closer to him; reminding the others around you to stop looking at your lower cheeks and upper chest which makes him scowl.

"You're looking hot but I hate how others can see you like this." Tucking his hand on the aide waistband on your bottoms and letting the material slap your skin.

You raise an eyebrow at him, your head dipping and rising at his exposed chest, "Speak for yourself, you buff puppy."

There and then comes Eric's light and golden smile that had you since day one, that only seemed all the more attractive with the limited skin contact that you share due to your light blue bikini and his pink swimmers. For Eric, it's the fact that the sight of you like this makes him want to take you right then and there, but he needed to stay civil in the public place.

You made your temporary post in the crowded space, spreading your beach towel and your belongings under the beach umbrella that you recently bought. Eric sticks his surfboard onto the sand next to where you would be sitting, creating more walls from the setting yet still scorching sun. You both settle in, popping off the cap of your sunscreen.

"Need help?" Knowing well enough that you will accept it.

A generous amount is applied to his palm and Eric guides you to sit between his spread legs as he begins applying the lotion starting from your shoulders and along your spine. You should've known that he was plotting something for even though you couldn't see the spreading grin on his face, his hands did all the talking. From the curve of your shoulder, coming to curve to your chest.

Slightly turning your head around, you shoot him a raised eyebrow but he feigns a straight face. His fingers go beneath the shoulder strap, following the line to your breasts. At least, you thought he would be groping you over the clothing but were proved wrong when your hardened buds were between his fingers that swiped and tugged making your back straighten.

"E-Eric---" Looking around at the oblivious children and parents. You couldn't help but squirm into him, the tip of his finger now circling your sensitive buds.

A hand flies to cover your mouth and Eric only shoots you a smile at the way your lips tremble in pleasure. "Good girl." Oh, he's crazy to call you that in public. "Looking all pretty for me."

"Oh..." His fingers tap teasingly towards your clothed mound, making your legs close instinctively. Eric clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth in disapproval, to which you shakily open your shaking legs once more to him. You know where this is going and you should probably keep some public dignity but how could you when the length of his fingers covers your slit, brushing you in an upwards motion, proud of the dampening fabric that he's created?

Your head falls back onto his shoulder, gasping for the air above. The whimpers that you let out are now clearer and closer to your boyfriend’s ears and once again, it takes Eric everything to not turn you around, tug both your underwear down and guide your surely pooling arousal around his hardening part.

But he’s got better ideas than what you both usually do behind closed doors. The fact that you’re gripping onto his forearm, gasping for air and his touch despite only having a minimal amount of coverage to the world around you makes the idea in his head all the more interesting to try. Without another word, Eric retracts his arm, scooting backwards before standing up.

Your furrowed eyebrows contrasted with the cute jut of your lower lip as your head turned, eyes following to see him retrieve his surfboard from the sand, tucking it below his arm. Eric winks at you and before you can protest your disappointment about the building orgasm, he crouches eye level with you, stealing a peck from your lips. 

“Come on,” he tilts his head towards the body of water, “you said you wanted to surf with me. Let me show you something while I’m at it.”

You couldn't see through that mischievous smirk and that annoyingly charming wink sent once again. Even though you rolled your eyes and heaved a heavy sigh, he knew that you would accept the hand that he has put out for you. Just like before, his fingers curve around the side of your waist, the surfboard from before under his arm as you both make your way to the crowded ocean.

At first, everything is civil. You both cupped your hands together to splash the salty liquid on each other’s faces, innocent and beaming in the summer. Eric would use the board as a barrier from your attacks and in turn, you would shout at how unfair he was being in the fight. The cooling water around you and the way the sand below you would most probably get between your feet when you walk back. The particles of sand would also be around your body, stuck between the gap between your bikini and your skin. But it’s fun and spending this time to just forget about your priorities is great, especially when you can do it with the love of your life. 

It’s true when people say time passes by fast when you have fun for with each passing splash to each other’s faces, the sun sets and the temperature drops even more, and Eric’s love and warmth for you becomes all the more evident. As you have fun together, you’ve reached a part of the area where it’s more secluded. The laughter of the families, squealing children and somewhat worried parents were quite a distance---it’s enough for you both to be moderately loud together; whatever those noises may be from. Eric pulls his body onto the floating board, legs straddling on each side, eyes forward towards the horizon and sunset. You gazed up at him with adoration, resting your arm onto the unoccupied part of the board as you gaze at the scene too. 

He admires the scenery in front of him, alternating between that and you next to him still in the water. You're left still in the water until he acknowledges you once more with a kiss, slotting his lips between yours. His thumb and index trap your chin, controlling the flow of the kiss. Eric smiles at the swipes of his tongue that would make your eyes slightly roll back. Your hands grip his thigh, slightly pushing him down in an attempt to dive into the kiss further. To the shaky movement, Eric tightens his hold on your chin, separating your wet lips with an innocent shake of his head.

“Don’t make me fall, baby girl,” He warns you softly. “Come here.” He pats on the board in front of him, instructing you to get on the board with minimal movement. 

Because of your lack of experience with the surfboard and everything about surfing, it was a little bit of a struggle to get on the rocky surface. The natural waves didn’t help you either. But Eric’s skilful balancing skills, tilting his upper body to the opposite side of the board of where you are to maintain his drying hair eventually made you both succeed in sitting together to watch the sunset in his arms. With his hands on your waist, he pulls you and himself closer, loving the feeling of your exposed back on his defined chest.

You exhale at the feeling, leaning and putting your weight onto him. To be honest, you could fall asleep to the sound of the waves, Eric’s humming and the way his thumb caress your skin. But Eric did not want you to fall asleep---he wanted the opposite of your snores and relaxed brain. His hands start to trail down, following the downward curve of your thigh, again towards your core that you couldn’t tell if it was your arousal or the sea. You gasp at how he didn’t bother to tease you from above your underwear, tugging cloth to one side, inserting one finger straight into your pooling hole.

“You can be louder,” he encourages the whiny moans that you started to voice, “They’re all away from us.” Referring to earlier when you were in a ‘more’ crowded place. 

Eric made use of his mouth, opened lips landing on the area between your neck and your shoulder. He makes his mark along the slide, sucking open-mouthed kisses while his fingers start to increase the pace, driving you to your wave. Your thighs start shaking, just like your ragged breaths and the slight thrashing of your head resting laid on his shoulder. Just like he wants, your voice becomes louder, not only because you’re right next to him but because you’re starting to not care about the setting you’re in.

“Keep still,” he reminds you of the uneven surface, “if you keep moving so harshly, you won’t be able to cum.” With this, his hand that has tugged your underwear away lets go and the elastic slaps to his retracting hand increase its pace and stretch your hole as he inserts another finger.

Your hands grip his wrists, hazy eyes gazing down to see the trembling of your thighs that have started to grip the blue board as you feel the increase of your release building up. Eric syncs your moans to the plunging of his fingers inside you. The tip of his fingers reaches your sweet spot, hitting that spot each time to leave you all the more breathless. Another finger is inserted and you can’t help but lean almost all your weight onto Eric now, losing your mind at how Eric constantly hits the spot that he knows all too well.

“Faster,” you beg to compensate for the orgasm he took away from you earlier. “Please don’t stop.” 

Eric complied with your request, turning his head towards the crook of your neck and littering soft small kisses to the back of your ear. Each time he pulls away from another peck comes another encouraging praise from all the “You’re taking me so well” to the “My pretty girl” to the dirtier words that encourage to finally coat his fingers with a layer of you. He didn’t stop at your orgasm, letting the surge of relief travel all over your body, only beginning to slow down when your breathing normalises. 

Eric’s gaze on your side profile is adoring, his hand coming back to cover your spent core. His face comes up to nudge and trace along your jawline and he lets out a soft chuckle. “You alright?”

You chuckle back, turning your head to nudge your nose against his, “Yeah. You?” He nods and kisses you still with a wide smile. “Amazing balance you have here, Mr Sohn.”

“I know,” he wiggles his eyebrows playfully, “I am amazing.”

You couldn’t argue with that statement. Eric Sohn is the love of your life after all.

“You know what else is amazing?” You raise an eyebrow at the question. Eric gives that mischievous smirk again, lifting the three fingers that made you gasp for air a few minutes ago, “Open up.” 

Diving in once more.

navi/masterlist!! 🤍 tags (send a dm/ask if you would like to be here!): @deoboyznet 📢❤️ @k-labels 💙🤍 @k-films 🤎🎞️ @kflixnet 📺🍿 @sanaxo-o

[nanaminokanojo]

ACCIDENTALLY IN LOVE | Sukuna X You | CHAPTER INDEX I /PROLOGUE (Part 1-68)

-meet cute? a cheesy musical number? forget it! love makes itself known to you through a minor car accident, a broken arm, and a treacherously charming temporary chauffeur

CHARACTERS: sukuna x you/reader | jjk characters (uraume, gojo, geto, shoko, nanami, choso, maki, nobara, mei-mei, etc.)

GENRE: full-length smau + prose | bad boy x good girl | college au | a lot of firsts | aged-up characters | strangers to lovers | smut | fluff | angst | ooc depictions - soft sukuna ftw

TW/CW: strong/mature language | adult content so mdni on some parts | mentions of alcohol and/or smoking | mentions of injury, promiscuity and bullying | pet names because they're cute with 2D men | toxic behavior | will add more if something arises

AKI’S NOTES: Reblogs and likes are very much appreciated, and I actively respond to comments as well as Asks. Also, if you’re interested, I will include you in the tag list. Just message me through whatever avenue you’re most comfortable with. Happy reading!

MASTERLIST

A/N: Yup. Intrigue and a video right off the bat.

CHAPTERS: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15

16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 | 27 | 28 | 29 | 30

31 | 32 | 33 | 34 | 35 | 36 | 37 | 38 | 39 | 40 | 41 | 42 | 43 | 44 | 45

46 | 47 | 48 | 49 | 50 | 51 | 52 | 53 | 54 | 55 | 56 | 57 | 58 | 59 | 60

61 | 62 | 63 | 64 | 65 | 66 | 67 | 68 | CHAPTER INDEX II

ADDITIONAL NOTES: i will be using pics and other media which would fit situations and make the smau-ness of this piece a little more realistic and entertaining when i believe it’s appropriate/fitting to the plot (as i've done with my other smau). having said that, with regard to inclusivity, i just want to put it out there that they will not necessarily be aimed as the exact descriptions to fit a supposedly generic reader nor will they be representative of a specific race or color. it’s all for the simple fact of media availability, for funsies and the fact that i don’t exclusively write in consideration of those aspects when using reader-insert characters unless i specify it. thank you for understanding.

TAG LIST: CLOSED

PLEASE READ: If you wanna be included in the tag list, please make sure that your “Exclude __(tumblr username)__ from Tumblr search and recommendations” setting is OFF so I can actually tag you guys and you'll get notifs when I update. Thank you very much.

Here's a reference for the instructions from domainofmarie. Thank you very much, my friend. This is very helpful.

A/N: I have another version of this story somewhere on the internet with different characters, and I thought, why not make it a Sukuna smau. So excited for this! This'll probably come out this weekend lol or the next if push comes to shove.

© ORIGINAL WORK BY nanaminokanojo. CHARACTERS ARE INSPIRED BY GEGE AKUTAMI’S “JUJUTSU KAISEN”. [20240514]

PHOTOS/IMAGES/GIF/FANART/ANY MEDIA CREDITS GO TO THE RESPECTIVE OWNERS.

[cosmicmunsonwrites]

i dream about you and i

mean!rafe cameron x desperate!fem!reader

cw — reader is on period, fluff

summary — rafe is proving himself to you that he intends to be better.

authors note — once again, this can def be read as a standalone but its apart of my mean!rafe series. it can be found in my rafe cameron masterlist under au’s. please send some cutesy requests, i love them sm.

do not copy or post my work anywhere else.

you were currently laid out in your shared bed with a fluffy, weighted blanket clutched close to your chest to try to ease some of the pain you were feeling. you’d gotten your period thankfully but it was more painful than ever. you never really got cramps so experiencing them for the first time now was like literal hell. you had hot tears running down your cheeks because of it.

the obnoxious ringtone of your phone rang through the silence and it almost made you want to die at the thought of rolling over to pick it up. you groaned and reached behind blindly to grab it. rafe’s name flashed across the screen. “hello?” you answered, voice shaking.

“hey, what’s wrong? you cryin’?” his voice was soft and gentle and full of concern. “somethin’ happen?”

you sniffled and wiped your cheeks with your sleeve but it was no use as another wave of pain hit you and a choked sob escaped your lips. “no. ‘m fine. jus’ got my period,” you half-lied. you weren’t even sure why because he definitely could hear you.

he sighed to himself, knowing you were going to take the stubborn route. “well i’m on the way home now, sweetheart. i jus’ got done with work. you want me to pick anything up? food? whatever you need.”

“no,” you said quickly before covering your mouth to hide another cry. “i don’t need anything,” you managed to whimper out before clamping your hand over the lower half of your face again.

there was a beat of silence. “ok, i’ll be home soon then,” he replied. “see you in a bit. i love you.”

you took a deep breath and nodded to yourself. “i love you too,” you mumbled before hanging up. your stomach began to hurt even more and a headache began to form due to the crying.

it had only been about 20 minutes before you heard the sound of rafe’s car pull into the driveway of your shared home. the front door opened and closed quietly almost as if he was trying to sneak in but unfortunately for him, kiwi began to go crazy out of excitement.

he gently quieted her down and made his way up the stairs to where you were tucked in the bed under the covers. when he walked in, he had a red box tied neatly with a bow, a basket full of your favorite sweets and self care items resting on top of it, and a bouquet of roses in the other hand.

you quickly wiped your tears and sat up to get a better look at him, kiwi jumping up onto the bed and laying by your lap. “rafe,” you said softly. “what is all this?”

“you said you jus’ got your period and you sounded upset,” he explained while handing you your gifts and flowers. “so i got you a couple things to make you feel better.”

your lip began to tremble as you admired the basket and box of chocolate covered strawberries in your lap along with the flowers in your hands. “when did you even have the time to do all this?”

he shrugged it off as if it weren’t even that big of a deal. but it was to you and he knew that. you’d mentioned once or twice how much the little things mattered to you. “stopped at the store on the way home,” he said, a smile on his face as he watched you admire your roses. “got some food for you too. i know you’re in pain but you still gotta eat, angel. even if its just a few bites so you can take somethin’ for the pain.”

more tears began to fall at how sweet he was. he’d grown so much over the last month and you were so proud at how he’d finally stepped up and began acting right. you just really hoped it wasn’t temporary.

“don’t cry, sweet girl,” he whispered softly as he cradled your cheeks and wiped them with his thumbs. “c’mon, lets go downstairs ‘nd watch a movie or something. i still got the food down there too.”

you groaned and leaned back against the wooden headboard. you weren’t sure you’d even make it with the pain you were feeling. “i don’t wanna walk all the way down there,” you whined in hopes he’d just come lay with you in bed.

he smiled to himself at how cute you looked. he quickly looped an arm under your back and the other under your knees, lifting you up bridal style with complete ease. “let’s go kiwi. downstairs,” he told your dog. she immediately jumped off the bed and led the way down the steps.

rafe walked through the kitchen, allowing you to catch site of the bag from your favorite restaurant. your heart fluttered at the thought of him remembering considering you only mentioned it once. it was too expensive to have often in your opinion.

he softly set you down on the couch and placed a big, fluffy blanket over you. “you wanna eat now or later?” he asked, brushing your hair past your ears to get a better look at your face.

“later,” you stated quietly. “i’m not really hungry right now.”

he nodded and pressed a soft kiss to your lips. “i’ll be right back, ok? i jus’ gotta change really quick,” he said, his face only inches from yours. he kissed you once more then stood on his feet and handed you the remote. “put somethin’ on.”

you could hear him quickly jog upstairs while you mindlessly scrolled through netflix until something caught your eye. you settled on a random movie in the top 10’s just as he came back, now in nothing but black sweatpants and white socks.

he moved the blanket off of you a moment and pushed your legs apart just enough for him to squeeze between them and lay on top of you with his head on your chest, listening to the calming thump of your heartbeat before throwing the blanket over the two of you again.

the weight and warmth of his was extremely comfortable and it made the pressure in your stomach ease up a little bit. one of your hands came up to play with his hair while the other rested on his back.

“you need anythin’ princess?” he asked one last time, voice slightly muffled against your chest as he watched whatever you put on.

you hummed and shook you head. “just this,” you replied surely.

his hands slipped underneath your back to wrap around you and pull you impossibly close. in this moment, you were sure you could stay here forever.

[its-cartooncrazy]

[Image description: a list of all tarot cards in the major arcana, along with their meanings. They have been matched to a vessel from slay the princess, using the drawings from the memories page. Full text ID under the cut.]

Hello I spent like a week being abnormal about this (no I did not know the tarot cards by heart before this, yes I do now) so here is my definitive list of which princess matches which tarot card. If you disagree with me then you're wrong (joking, please feel free to tell me with your reasoning, I'd love to hear it!!)

Full list of my reasonings under the cut (scroll to the big text saying "Reasonings" to skip the ID)

[Full ID: three columns, listing first the tarot number and name, then card meanings, then the princess. They are as follows:

0. The Fool. cycle of life, birth & death, hope, optimism, childish, spontaneous, lateral thinking. The Damsel

1. The Magician. practical, success, witty, at home, central nervous system & lungs & senses, unemotional, over analyses. The Moment of Clarity

2. The High Priestess. heightened perception, unknown, mystery, occult, patience, intuition, strong independent woman, unable to control or dominate. The Wraith

3. The Empress. powerful women, creativity, growth, beauty, birth, fertility, warm, loving, sensual, enjoys life to the full. The Adversary

4. The Emperor. structure & power, competitive, achievement, authority, hierarchy, dominance. The Tower

5. The Hierophant. status quo, appearances, marriage, teaching, interpreting, structure, routine. Happily Ever After

6. The Lovers. love, romance, union, soulmates, resolved inner conflict, choice. The Wild

7. The Chariot. reward, victory hard won, don’t give up, try again, vehicles, overcoming obstacles, self discipline, hard work, focus. The Beast

8. Justice. logical decision, balanced mind, negotiation, truth, honesty, integrity. The Spectre

9. The Hermit. Solitude, thinking, introspection, learning, teaching. The Prisoner

10. The Wheel of Fortune. Fate, coincidence, luck, cycles, confusion. The Stranger

11. Strength. generous, loving, courage, conviction, optimism, resolve, generous, antagonism resolved, animals (loving). The Den

12. The Hanged Man. unable to move, temporary pause, patience, self limiting, trapped, sacrifice, wait for info. The Cage

13. Death. cycle of death & rebirth, transformation, something is ending, confronting smth alarming, major change. The Eye of the Needle

14. Temperance. balanced, adaptable, see both sides, calm, solve disputes, works well in a team, mixing opposites, blending, time. The Princess and the Dragon

15. The Devil. material world, buying love, material security, mental health, powerlessness, violence, obsession, secrecy. The Witch

16. The Tower. disruptive, violent, necessary change, enlightenment, trauma, loss, upheaval, tragedy. The Fury

17. The Star. hope, new life, fresh insight, phys or ment wounds heal, heal & inspire others, help, human rights, nature, equality. The Thorn

18. The Moon. dreams, imagination, subconscious, illusion, vagueness, deception, fear, anxiety. The Nightmare

19. The Sun. happiness & vitality, energy, confidence, children, freedom, fun, self expression. The Razor

20. Judgement. decisions, awakening, rebirth, healing, homesickness, celebrate success, self evaluation, blame. The Grey

21. The World. end of a cycle, accomplishment, journey, belonging, wholeness. The Apotheosis

End ID]

Reasonings

The Fool I put the damsel down for pretty early, just because of the childish optimism, but later I was thinking about the damsel route and why it wouldn't fit the Lovers and I said the damsel is more about how they are rushing into it. And then I remembered the Fool is about rushing in lol. I couldn't really consider anything else after that

The Magician mentions the central nervous system and lungs, so I considered putting the nightmare here for paranoids mantra, but the card didn't really fit her that well and the central nervous system is different to the autonomous nervous system anyway so. The Moment of Clarity gets this spot for her practical breaking of you, and the success it brings her. Not one of my easiest placements but I'm still pretty happy with it

The high Priestess was hard to place because she's about the occult, and powerful women who don't need a man. If only there was a princess who fit that mold... (/s if it wasn't clear) so yeah. Half the princesses were written down here at one point. The Wraith gets this spot because I found other places for all the others I guess and also because "She could not find her strength in others, so she found it in herself."

The empress is again a powerful woman, but a loving and nurturing one, who encourages growth. It was both the growth and the partnership she has that gave her the adversary

The Emperor is about hierarchy and dominance. I knew very early on that the tower would fit best here. "This one is dominance."

The hierophant is about structure, appearances, and also marriage. Happily Ever After is all about being trapped within this structure, with ties specifically to marriage. Literally tell me I'm wrong?

The Lovers. Okay. So there's a few this could be. The Damsel, with the voice of the smitten? Not really as equal a partnership, as I mentioned in the Fool section. They don't really know each other. The Thorn, where you can kiss her? Well that ignores like. The entire rest of the route so no. Happily ever after? Maybe, but I prefer her in hierophant. The adversary, with your equal partnership in kicking each others asses? Easily, but I also put her elsewhere. Ironically, the Lovers was one of the last two cards I placed, and the only princesses left were the wild and the grey, and unfortunately I couldn't agree with the drowned grey going here. The wild has you literally being one, achieving a common goal. It's not my favourite placement but I dont hate it so.

The chariot is about putting in the hard work and seeing it through, and she does make an effort to capture you (swallow you whole) and bring you to the door so she can escape. Also it's about vehicles, and she literally acts as a vehicle for you. That idea was too funny to not do tbh

Justice is one of three cards that mention balance, so I wanted one of the ones where you merge to go here. Much like the scales of justice, it is about considering all sides and picking fairly, so it had to go to the spectre, who gets justice for her murder when you help her out. The spectre was written down for like half the cards on this list though my god

The hermit is about solitude and self introspection. The prisoner, sitting in silence for millenia, felt very fitting. I also wanted the cage to be here, because the image of the hermit is him holding up a lantern, and having the cage holding her head like that would be fun, but she fit better in the hanged man so.

The wheel of fortune was one of my later picks. Fate, and also cycles. Its a little vague, and can fit with quite a few princesses, but I put the stranger here. Is it the vibes? Something about coincidences and not meeting her feels similar, but I cant put my finger on it so if you can explain please do.

Strength, but of the inner sort. The Den didn't really have anywhere better to go, I don't know if instinct matches with any of the cards. I felt confidence in ones self was pretty similar to instinct, plus it has ties to animals.

The hanged man is self restrictions. I would have liked to put the thorn here, honestly, hanging from her vines. Ultimately it was the best choice for the cage, though, and I had another good option for the thorn. Anyway, the cage can be hanging from all those chains and hooks. "This one is a body that convinced herself she was only a set of eyes." Sounds like her limits are self imposed for sure!

Death and the tower have similar meanings in that things are coming to an end, and both of them I felt were good fits for both eye of the needle and the Fury. Ultimately I put eotn here because its more cyclical, and when she was the adversary she wanted to continue fighting over and over again.

Temperance is the second balance card, specifically about blending this time. Opposites merging, solving disputes. Felt very much like the princess and the dragon chapter. "This one is perspectives bleeding into one."

The Devil is a person tricking you, but also material security. I only ever put the witch down for this one, and I only ever put her down for one card lol. The mutual trickery and betrayal in her chapter felt too fitting. "A trick behind your back, and a trick behind mine."

The tower, like I said, is similar to death in that they are both about things ending. But the tower is more dramatic, about the sudden upheaval, so I thought thematically it matched with the Fury better, who is very upset and very taking it out on you. This is one of the cards I knew the meaning of from the beginning, so unfortunately there was never a point in which the tower was matched with the tower :(

The star is hope and healing. One of many that the spectre could have matched with. (I wanted to make her star shaped wound be the star... oh well). The Thorn fits well here, if you both choose to end the cycle of violence and leave together. The star also has ties to nature, which fits with the thorns... thorns... I would have preferred her at the hanged man for her self limiting, being trapped in her own thorns, but this is also a very good choice so I'm not too mad lol

The moon is fear and anxiety. Plus the moon only comes out at night, when everyone is sleeping, when you have nightmares! But mostly it's the vagueness, mystery and anxiety stuff.

The sun being joy meant I knew I wanted the razor here from the beginning. I briefly considered putting her at death (for the cycles, and also the uh, death) but I think the dying part of her route is not actually that important? Anyway the razor is my wife and I'm glad she's enjoying herself. "She is cruelty. But she is also joy." See, shifty gets it!

Judgement is where you look back on everything and judge yourself. It was one of the last two cards to be assigned, and the wild did not fit here at all. Plus the grey sort of punishes you for your actions? It's unavoidable, is my point.

The world is accomplishment, wholeness. She is as close to becoming the goddess she truly is as any vessel ever comes. "This one sits at the cusp of awakening." Shifty says. Also Apotheosis literally means climax so I had to put her at the end of the tarot, you understand.

So yeah that's that. Thanks for reading, if you managed to get through all that. Feel free to debate different interpretations at me, I'd love to hear em!

[sukunastoy]

Only Love Can Hurt Like This, Prologue (CEO! Sukuna x Fem! Reader, MDNI)

Next Part, here!

⭐This is a redo of my story, Shameful Attraction. I've rewritten it as I originally wanted so long ago. I was trying to write it to appease people and once I let go of that and just started to enjoy the story for itself, the flow became a lot better. For those who read it before, there are major changes you'll notice upon the next upload. For those who haven't read it at all before, I hope you enjoy. <3⭐

⬇️PLEASE READ BEFORE STARTING THE STORY! ⬇️

Modern age AU, no curses. Sukuna still has his tattoos, but his face ones are carefully hidden. This story is set in Japan, and I've done my best to impliment real life into it. For example, tattoos in Japan are still taboo, and people associate them with the yakuza, so its not normal to see everyday people have them. Though I know I won't have all the details of modern day life in Japan correct, I hope you still enjoy.

Pairings: CEO Sukuna x Fem Reader Content/Trigger Warnings: This story has a lot of abuse in it. Reader is in an abusive relationship with her fiance, Toji. There are several moments in the story that highlight this including, but not limited to, acts of violence and aggression towards reader, including name calling, shoving, punching, sexual assault, being manipulated, unwanted bondage and containment, food denial, being drugged etc. Reader is thin, not allowed to eat a lot per Toji's rules in regards to her weight. If she feels like she is gaining weight, she will make herself throw up after meals. Reader also struggles through depression though often hides it through masking, however there are ocassional thoughts of suicide when some scenarios are too extreme to cope with. She's scared to leave, assumes she could never get away, so just deals with it all as she doesn't know what else to do. Wordcount: 2k+

Prologue

Present Day ~ Friday, 10:23 PM

It was happening again. There was nothing you could do to stop it. No amount of shame or fear could keep you from hiding in the bathroom at 10:23 PM, your thumb hovering over the open message icon on your phone. You knew who it was, the person you desperately craved.

The sender's name was your best friend and coworker, Yuna.

You always talked to Yuna; sometimes you even stayed with her after work was over in the affluent area of Tokyo, Roppongi Hills. There were even the rare times you'd stay overnight after work because you felt like you couldn't see each other long enough. At least, it's who your fiancé thought you were talking to and seeing. If he ever found out otherwise, well, you weren't sure you even wanted to think about what might happen.

Toji would get annoyed at you for wanting to talk so much with one of your friends, and he always demanded to know what you two did or talked about all the time, which you offered very detailed lies in response to his questions. It's not like you came to these decisions lightly. You stuck it out faithfully for almost seven years before giving up and needing someone else to make you feel like a beautiful and worthy woman again. To know someone else could appreciate you and offer excitement in your life. To not hit or yell at for everything was a huge plus also. Even if it was only temporary. Even if they didn't care about you in the same way you cared for them, you still needed whatever you could get.

Listening carefully in the silence of the night, you could still hear Toji snoring from your tiny, shared bed down the hall, and finally, your shaking thumb pressed onto the screen, closing your eyes as you felt the little bzzt of the message opening.

Swallowing tightly before accepting the message visually, you peeked an eye open and felt your face flush with a tingling heat that traveled down into your core, making your thighs squeeze together tightly as you sat on the edge of the tub, breath hitching at the photo and caption that now had you uncontrollably mesmerized.

Clicking the lock button on the side of your phone you dropped it down onto the soft rug below, your shaking hands now covering your face before going through your hair and you let out a long quiet breath.

Your heart pounded with the image in your mind, and what usually happened after you got one of these messages, there was no stopping it, and you hoped it never would.

Finally calming your nerves at the moment, you picked your phone back up, only to have that heated chill drop to your stomach again as there was another message to open now. Biting your lip, you opened it and at this point, you could nearly hear your own elevated heartbeat.

-"Aren't you going to answer me, doll? I know you're still awake."-

You covered your mouth with your free hand to try and quiet the excited breaths escaping your mouth, scrolling up slowly to review the previous message.

-"I know it's late, and to be honest, I really don't care. I want you here, need you beneath me in my bed where you know you belong. Letting a real man fuck you. You know he can't make you feel like I can." Photo attached: It was of that enormous bulge desperately trying to push through dark sweatpants that were loosely tied at the hip, shirt lifted and held up by sharp canines to show off that ridiculously built body, and sinful black tattoos that hugged the skin.-

Damn him. A quiet whine churned in your throat as your thighs clenched together more tightly in that shameful desire. He was right though. Toji could never fuck you as good as Sukuna. It was so embarrassing. Embarrassing how easy it was for Sukuna to turn you completely limp in his arms, and how quickly you'd lose yourself beneath him. Embarrassing because of how loud and lewd your moans were. Embarrassing because of how much you wanted this arrogant playboy.

Knowing another message would come through if you didn't reply, you quickly responded with the only thing you could think of at the moment, being so flustered and already getting dumb over dick through a teasing photo. -"I still have that report I have to finish this weekend, I don't think you'd be too happy if I don't complete it by Monday, Sukuna."-

As soon as you sent the message, it was as if there was an answer already waiting, and your phone almost immediately vibrated in response. -"Just stay the whole weekend with me, I don't even care anymore at this point. You can finish that here after I'm finished with you. I've already transferred the train ticket vouchers to you. The last one leaves at 10:51 pm. I'll pick you up at the station when you arrive. Just don't keep me waiting, my pretty, little thing."-

Running a hand over your forehead that felt a bit damp from nervousness, you shoved your phone into your pocket and let out a quiet but heavy breath. Having an affair with your boss was undoubtedly making you the happiest you've felt in years, but still, at the same time, it made you so frightened and ashamed. Especially since it felt like you were getting more attached to him, though you knew Sukuna wasn't looking for a serious relationship of any kind. He had made that perfectly clear. Painfully clear. You weren't the only woman in his life that he entertained, and you knew you wouldn't be the last. You were just fortunate to have his attention, for now.

He certainly knew how to make you feel like the only woman in the world though, despite knowing you were just sharing him. At least he kept his wandering eyes and flirtatious comments under check when the two of you were spending time together. Meanwhile, Toji acted like the biggest flirt in the world with every woman he encountered, even with you at his side.

Toji could be so gentle and loving when he wanted to be, but it never lasted long, and it was only when he was rewarding you for properly behaving. There'd always be something to set him off or some woman nearby he couldn't keep his eyes off of. You were certain he had been sleeping with other women for years, the way he acted around some of them proved it. Despite your supsicions, you had stayed faithful and loyal. Even through the beatings and constant derogatory things he called you. You weren't sure if it was because you had morals, or because you were terrified of him.

So long as you were obedient like a trained dog, Toji wouldn't hurt you. Mentally or physically. Most of the time you were too frightened to fall out of line, knowing how easily he could knock you out, or break an arm; something he's done before in a fit of drunken rage. He definitely scared the shit out of you, and cheating or lying like this was enough to make you shake in fear for your safety.

But, Sukuna never asked you to officially stay for several days like this at his own home. Sure, you've taken work trips together, but even though you gave yourself to Sukuna in any way he wanted, most of those were strictly professional and work related. So, as terrified as you were of your fiancé finding out, you couldn't pass up this type of opportunity. Maybe Sukuna was getting more attached to you as well? 

"I have no desire for a relationship of any kind beyond this. Don't get any hopes or ideas, I simply enjoy what we have, and it wont ever change."

Doubtful.

Even knowing his attitude towards your relationship, it wasn't always easy to keep your mind free of hopeful thoughts, unfortunately. The way he'd hold you so close or kiss you so gently at times brought such confusion it hurt almost worse than any slap from Toji.

You carefully snuck out of the apartment, praying to god that Toji wouldn't hear you. You'd have to come up with some lie at some point, but for now, you just wanted to see the man you desperately longed for. The train station was only a couple of minutes away from your apartment, so it was a quick walk down the road. Approaching the kiosk to pick up your tickets, you held the voucher barcode on your phone underneath the scanner and it printed out a set of tickets for you to board the train. 

Knowing the ride would be a little time-consuming, roughly over an hour, you stared aimlessly out the window for most of the trip, your leg bouncing in anticipation. You tried not to think of all the shameful things you were going to let this beast of a man do to you through the rest of the night, and how you craved every bit of it. It was the only time you didn't have to think or worry, you could just let Sukuna use you as he wanted. 

Nearing the destination, you clicked on Yuna's name in your contacts and took a quick selfie, angling the camera so your pushed-up boobs were clearly visible as well. Before Sukuna, you could never feel confident enough to take such pictures. Even when Toji demanded some risqué photos, you couldn't feel comfortable doing so. Sending them to Sukuna was exciting, however. Being satisfied after a few images, you attached a message, -"I'm coming. ❤"-

-"Yeah, you'll be screaming that soon enough."- he replied nearly instantly.

God, you could hear his cocky chuckle through the text. -"Please, 'cause I seriously need it. This whole week was awful."- You type out, still feeling the throbbing, dull pain in your side where Toji jammed his fist into your ribs for talking back to him. -"Yeah? Well, glad I had you come over then. I'll make sure to fuck all of the stress out of you."-

He sent another photo and you nearly dropped your phone once it popped up on the screen as you weren't expecting to see his large hand tightly wrapped around his hardened cock. You let out a near silent yet audible whimper as your eyes fixated on it. A shudder traveled through your body as you recalled how amazing he could make you feel.

You were just grateful Sukuna asked you to come over tonight, and it not be mainly for work, considering you and Toji had another fight about his past financial problems that somehow became your main responsibility to fix. At the time of your engagement when you were young, dumb, and in love, you had agreed to put all of his bills in your name and his credit debt as soon as possible so he could catch a break and start rebuilding his finances and you'd be able to help with the payments then.

Of course, through some miscommunication, you were responsible for ALL the payments now, and you couldn't keep up. To make it worse, he kept taking out new loans for who knows what and it seriously terrified you. Loan sharks were nothing to mess with. They'd give you anything you want, but if you didn't pay it back, they weren't afraid to get rough for their money. No point in calling the cops either, cause the cops were scared of them half the time too.

Seeing the city lights get closer, you let out a deep breath of suspense, knowing within the next few moments or so you'd be getting fucked stupid in one of the very expensive, luxury penthouses of the seductively, dominant man you met only a few months ago.

You knew the moment you had literally run into him while rushing down the sidewalk, causing his hot morning coffee to spill onto you and all over his expensive suit that things were going to change in your life, even if just for a little while.

End Prologue

I hope you enjoyed! <3 I'm happy to actually be writing this story again. I truly LOVE comments so please leave some! They make me smile so much. ヾ(•ω•`)o

I'll do my absolute best to keep this story updated, unlike before. I promise!

Next part, here!

[coveofsecrets]

“𝙷𝚒𝚍𝚍𝚎𝚗 𝙱𝚎𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝙻𝚒𝚙𝚜”

-> Platonic! Yandere! Whitebeard Pirates x reader

-> Warnings: small descriptions of violence, attempted kidnap, implied reader having an abusive family, drugging (didn’t actually happen), tugging on self’s hair, possible ooc-ness since this is my first time writing for Whitebeard pirates

-> Word Count: 4.5k words

-> This was HEAVILY inspired by @rollinouttahere-writes’s vampire Ace au!!! Most of the ideas/hcs(?) here is from them. I just felt really inspired from their au, so I wanted to write this!!! If anything seems historically inaccurate, please let me know! Also, even if it says Whitebeard Pirates, it’s… mainly just. Thatch. I love him too much <3.

─── ✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰*.:｡✧*.｡:｡*.｡✱ ───

"Eat up."

A bowl is held out to you; one full of thick liquid and solid things, contents sloshing inside of the container as it’s moved towards you.

"I haven't cooked human food in a long time, but I largely remember how to make it, so it shouldn't be too bad."

The person holding the bowl of soup gestures in your way, silently asking you to take it.

Honestly, it doesn't look bad.

In fact, it looks delicious.

Filling, too.

An orange color, bits and pieces of meat and vegetables peeking through the liquid, soup bubbling due to the soup’s warmth…

Your stomach rumbles.

The one across from you tilts his head, lips pulling into a fang-bared smirk as his black eyes raise in knowing mirth.

Despite the aching in your midsection, you look away from the man, pushing the soup away from yourself- a bit too rough, with how some of it has spilled out.

"No thanks," You grit out, poorly concealing your distaste for the vampire. "I… have rations in my bag."

A laugh is all that comes as a response, the soup pushed towards you to the point it invades your vision.

"Not to be rude, but your bag looks near to empty," He points out, "Whatever you've got in there won't last you to the next town."

He's right.

He's right and you know it.

He's right, you know it, and you know that he knows.

The only things being a half-eaten apple and a reusable water bottle in your traveling bag, it doesn’t take a genius to guess there’s not much in there.

...you wanna rip your hair out.

A scowl making its way onto your face, you practically bare your teeth at the one before you.

"So? I have no reason to accept food from you, Thatch. For all I know, this shit could be drugged! Hell, I wouldn’t even be surprised, because all you’ve ever done for me is make my life more difficult than it needs to be!”

Well, Thatch is not the main aspect of your headache.

Rather, he's a part of that problem.

A ginormous, powerful, and vampiric problem.

To frame what’s been going on, it all started a long time ago (a year), in a run-down establishment you managed to find for temporary shelter (a gas station off to the side of the street), where you met a man who had the look of a person with nobody to call his own family (he seemed lonely), standing in wait to sacrifice a part of what was to his name (he was waiting for the customer in front of him to stop arguing with the cashier).

Since you also needed to sacrifice a part of your dignity, you were behind him.

Thus, with the two of you bored, interaction sprouted- quite beautifully, in fact. A stem of a topic took place, leaves of conversation forming, and flowers of bonds blooming.

It was nice.

Ace, as he called himself, was nice.

Being one of the first people you talked to after moving out, that guy was... pretty cool.

A warm fire, heating up your palms and sending its head across your body, letting you find comfort from the stormy winters outside.

Until the fire turned hot, scathing, forcing you to pull your hands back before the skin burned off from the muscle.

"Thirteen?" Ace echoes, "That's a young age to be traveling. Do your parents know about this?"

To that, you stiffen, and the man seems to piece together a bit of your situation, moving on from his question.

“You don’t have to answer that, but… going exploring at a young age probably isn't good for you. Lots of people would love to hurt a young thing like you.”

You sigh, "I know, I know… but, I just… can’t necessarily find anybody to travel with? I mean-” A laugh is forced out of your throat. “I don’t think any other thirteen-year-olds are exploring the world. Plus, l've been fine so far, haven't l? I'm in one piece."

Ace's eyebrows furrow. "Haven’t you been only going around for a month? That's too little time to make any sort of assumption. I'm not saying you should go back to your parents, though.”

Oh.

You feel your shoulders droop.

Well that's nice to hear.

“Then what are you saying?”

“I’m saying that it’s best to stick with a group, for now.” He reaches a hand up, rubbing at the back of his neck. “And assuming you don’t exactly have anybody to travel with, how about traveling with me for a bit? I’ll introduce you to this group I’m with. They’re pretty groovy, been with them for a few decades-”

Decades? This guy doesn't look a day over nineteen.

"-and they’re absolutely wonderful.” As he speaks about his buddies, you notice how Ace’s tone has gotten softer- warm, like the sun retreating into the mountains to offer the people underneath it respite from its fiery wrath. “We’re like a family, always taking care of each other and making sure we’re not too reckless. Pops makes sure it’s that way.”

Pops???

"If you stay with them, you'll be safe. I'm sure they'll treat you nicely. Whaddya say?”

Expectantly, Ace looks at you, a kind smile on his face as he waits for your answer.

The only thing you can answer with is silence, as you ponder his proposal.

The Whitebeard Vampires…?

Vampires??

You've heard about certain groups that go around.

Traveling groups, to be more specific.

Some are wannabe hippies who only do drugs and preach about love and acceptance as a joke, others are dangerous gangs that hurt defenseless people in order to fulfill whatever sick desires they have.

The Whitebeard Vampires, though…

You can vaguely remember hearing about them every now and then; small whispers among townspeople, newspapers bored (usually old) individuals read, and WANTED signs brought up on TV.

So really, all you know about them is that they’re popular, and also illegal- any other information is now up to you to imply.

Vampires... mythical bloodsuckers, right? I don't exactly know what the 'Whitebeard' stands for, but ‘vampire' could imply something more sinister, like blood…

All of a sudden, the smile on Ace's face doesn't look friendly anymore.

No longer the setting sun, it is now the star that rises from the mountains, preparing to enact scathing hot violence for the denizens of its green empire.

Yeah, no. I'm not taking any chances.

Hesitantly, you smile.

"I, uh, appreciate the offer, but I'm good!" Is your answer.

Your newly made acquaintance’s face falls.

You feel as if a mistake has been made.

Before you could remedy the situation, though, Ace is quick to speak.

“Listen,” Your name is huffed out. “I don’t think it’s a good idea to keep on travelling alone. Being absolutely straightforward with you, I’m worried. I mean, any sensible person would be. Imagine seeing some eight year old out by themself- you’d be worried, wouldn’t you?”

“I guess, yeah, but I’m not eight?”

Why is he insisting after I said ‘no’?

Ace sighs, “You’re right. You’re not eight, but to me, somebody who’s a lot older than you, you seem that way- and seeing you all alone, it’s worrying. Staying with the Whitebeard Vampires is the best choice for you; you haven’t been travelling for long, and you’re likely unaware of the dangers out there. You could get kidnapped, or maybe worse. You’re lucky to have been safe so far, but who knows what could happen later? Hell, right when you leave the store?”

This is uncomfortable.

Deciding that turning him down politely won’t work anymore, you decide to be firm in your response.

“Listen, I really do appreciate the offer, but I’m fine. Plus, as much as it was fun talking to you, I barely know you, so why would I join some group I don’t even know about?” As you speak, the previous calm you felt is erased, stress taking over once more.. “You’re making me uncomfortable, and I’d appreciate it if you’d stop.”

The older one’s mouth snaps shut.

For a moment, you feel relieved, but it’s soon burnt away when his expression turns steely, lips spreading into a thin line and eyes narrowing in a way that seems like he’s thinking of something you won’t like.

Before he could say anything, though, the customer in front of him finally, finally stops arguing with the cashier; he’s next in line to come up, and he turns back to the cashier, leaving you relieved that was the end of that.

Alas, God is real and he hates you.

Not even five seconds of stepping out of the store pass when your wrist is snatched and, all of a sudden, you’re being yanked across the street.

Wha-?!

The lights of the gas station blur by you, and you can barely see who is dragging you along in the dead of night.

You’re in an unfamiliar place, with nowhere to go home to, and you don’t even know who has you in such a tight grip.

You don’t know anything.

All these unknown variables, uncertainty in this very situation, unknown whether you’ll live or not, what might happen if you live, what might not happen if you die…

What’s going on-!

Your heart is seized by the cold hand of fear, and you’re not able to even think as a scream rips itself from your throat-

“STOP!”

You plant your feet firmly into the ground, trying to take your hand back from the thief.

Who is-?!

Your thoughts, an intelligible mess of screeching banshees, can’t do anything for you.

They can only drown in the sea of variables, flailing around to grab onto something, only for your thought’s oxygen supply to run out, running on the little rationality it has left.

All you can rely on is your body, activating your flight or flight, forcing your veins to feel as if they are pulsing. They beat and thrum against your skin; begging, pleading with you to escape the muscles that trap them and flee.

Flee, far away from the threat.

Flee, far away from the man who’s kidnapping you.

Flee, far away from…

“Don’t panic, I’m not gonna hurt you. I’ll just take you to see the Whitebeard Vampires, and you’ll see for yourself that it’s okay!”

The voice makes its way into your mind, a clear bell within the roar of screams in your head.

Recognizable, known, recent.

Ace?

His tone, calm and encouraging, does nothing to ease the fear running across your spine- in fact, his tranquility is only making everything worse.

I was right about my bad feeling!

The grasp on your heart only becomes tighter, stomach dropping to the pits of your midsection, vision becoming blurry with the terror you’re supposed to feel.

Uncaring of anybody who might turn to see the spectacle playing in this gas station, a sob escapes your lips.

“No, no, no! I don’t wanna!” You almost shriek, “I don’t wanna see your crew, I don’t wanna! Let me go- LET ME GO!”

Another fruitless yank from your side, another fruitful tug from the other side; you’re almost sent stumbling, having to catch yourself before face planting.

Ace, his voice a bit more rough now, continues to speak against your fright. “It’ll be okay, really! Cmon, just give it a- chance-!”

With a grunt, he tugs on your arm again, and you can’t do anything but follow.

“It’s for your own good,” Your name is said through a bite, “I’ve got food inside, so you’re not gonna go hungry!”

What the hell is he saying-?!

“Does that matter?!” You cry, “Let go, let me go-! I don’t wanna go-!”

Before you could prepare to tug at his arm again, somebody shoves the two of you apart- an old man, you think, coming to your rescue.

He turns, yelling at Ace; the words are unknown to you, as you took the opportunity to escape.

Ever since then, you’ve met all sorts of people from that gang of his.

A samurai looking as if he’s from the Edo period, a doctor dressed as if he time traveled from the Black Plague, and a swordsman seeming like he was there when the British colonized India.

Without fail, when they found you- whether by individuals or them in a group- they have tried to recruit you into the same group Ace is in.

Threatening, coaxing, or storytelling; many tactics were implemented to try and take you in as one of them. The storytelling almost worked on you once.

Grand adventures the Whitebeard Pirates go on; exploring land nobody dared set foot on before, collecting treasure that shines brighter than all of the stars in the sky, and experiencing freedom unbound by any rules or regulations…

If it weren’t for the fact that they seemed like a dangerous bunch, you would’ve joined.

And, also, if they weren’t vampires.

…yep.

Apparently, the name Whitebeard Vampires was meant to be literal.

Whitebeard for the name of their leader, and Vampires for the fact that everybody in that crew is a one of those bloodsuckers.

You learned it from that fancy, British-looking guy a few months back… what was his name again? Vest? You don’t really remember. All you could focus on was the revelation that the mythical beasts you’d wet the bed over as a child were real.

Snapped out of reminiscence, Thatch’s voice brings you back to reality.

“Listen kid, I know that our methods may seem…” The vampire pauses. “Unorthodox, but it comes from a place of concern.” His tone is, for a creature such as him, surprisingly soft.

Almost fatherly.

It… it almost reminds you of, when you were young, how your dad would crouch down to be eye-level with you, gently explaining why you should or shouldn’t do something.

“All we know is that you refuse to go to your home, and we’re not going to question it, but we want to see a kid like you safe and happy.”

…you feel small.

“You don’t know anything about me. You don’t know if I’m happy out here.”

A pathetic defense from you, but Thatch takes it as a real one.

“You’re right, we don’t. All we know is that you’re some kid who’s sticking it out on their own. You could be happy, but my crewmates have noticed how they see you suffering, whenever they find you. Throwing up, blood on your face, or a bone broken… isn’t that reason enough to be worried?”

In front of you, fire crackles, shadows flickering across his face.

Through that dancing, one expression remains clear:

Worry.

“We’re not trying to harm you, kid. We’re just trying to help. I’m just trying to help, especially now. I mean-” A small chuckle, “I don’t think you’re going to make it far with that injury of yours.”

It doesn’t take a genius to guess he’s talking about the nasty gash on your leg, caused by the chance encounter with a humanoid wolf thing.

You bring your leg close to you; a pathetic attempt to hide your injury. “shut up,” you mumble, “I can make it just fine.”

The cook raises a nonexistent eyebrow. “Really?” He leans forward. “Just a few minutes ago, didn’t you collapse when trying to stand?”

To that, you say nothing, letting silence occupy the both of you for a bit.

Soon, Thatch sighs, “Listen, just… take the food, kid. We’re not trying to harm you.”

“How am I supposed to know?”

You feel so, so small.

The man speaking gently towards you, stern yet kind, can’t help but make you feel as if you’re a child learning how to regulate your emotions for the first time.

You hate it.

You hate it so much.

Who does he think he is, treating you like some sort of kid? Some sort of- of- dependent, needing an adult to hold their hand and keep them safe from all the dangers of the world!

You’re not like that.

You’re far from that!

You’re independent, you’re strong; hell, you’re not home right now because of your strength!

So who does he, the man who’s been making everything miserable for you, think he is, huh?!

“Ever since I’ve started travelling…” Your voice, a low growl, soon rises to a yell. “You lot have been nothing but trouble for me! First, I have to deal with randoms trying to kidnap and sell me for profit, then constant injuries ‘cause of falling down and breaking something, and now, I have to deal with you lot?! For the past year, everywhere I go, you guys are always there! All I wanted-” a rough wheeze, “All that I wanted was just to get away from my parents, but you just have to fuck everything up!”

You’re not sure why you’re being so emotional right now.

Maybe it’s due to the throbbing in your leg that’s travelling all the way to your head, or the stress of the trip that’s only built up from its starting point.

Either way, you’ve opened your lips, and now, Pandora’s Box can’t be closed.

“I hate it- I hate it all! I hate how you’ve made everything worse- I hate you! I hate you and your stupid crew, and I’d wish you all would go die!”

If you were in less of an emotional state, you would’ve noticed that the forest has gone quiet due to your volume.

“Out of the frying pan, and into the fucking sun, I guess! First I had to deal with parents who won't respect my basic rights, and now I have to deal with vampires who want to suck my blood?!”

Like a pressure cooker that’s exploding, you continue to yell at Thatch, uncaring of any consequences that might follow.

He deserves it, after all- he and his stupid crew deserves it, for making your life a living hell!

“I thought I’d be happy, y’know! I thought- I thought that after getting kicked out-”

The event is fresh in your mind.

Painfully vivid, you can remember being in the house you’ve grown up in, with your parents in the living room you’re so used to; you all were screaming at one another, throwing things, calling each other names, and exchanging fists until you were thrown out, told to never show your face here again.

No matter how long it’s been, the memory still hurts when you think about it.

Like the tears in your eyes, it still stings.

“-that I’d be fine, that- that I could stick it out. But now… now, I have to deal with everything that wants to kill me!”

At this point, you’re screaming at the vampire.

The horrible vampire, who says nothing as you break down in front of him- who looks at you with such warmth, eyes full of kindness for the screaming teenager in front of him.

The evil creature, who’s lips upturned are nothing if not compassionate, treating your problems as if they are real.

The monstrous thing, whose expression reminds you of your mother’s.

“Not just your stupid crew,”

You violently jab a finger in Thatch’s direction.

“But everything! Faeries, centaurs, and other people, too!”

A sharp pain comes into your scalp.

You’re tugging on your hair.

“I thought- I don’t- I don’t know what I was thinking!”

What am I even saying?

What’s coming out of your mouth, is now indecipherable to your ears.

Covered up and muffled by the heavy weight of your stress, brain muddled by all of it coming to crash down on you all at once, you don’t know what you want to say.

All you do know is that you want to scream.

So you do it.

You scream, cry, and wail at him with all of your might, screeching your grievances towards the monster that dares sit by you, as if he’s your friend!

As if he deserves to act like somebody that has your best intentions in mind, when in reality, all he wants to do suck your blood and then throw your corpse out to the rest of the mythical beasts that exist, letting them rip your remains apart.

He’s no different than those other monsters.

He’s no different than the faeries that try to steal your life, no different than the centaurs that want to make you a flattened mess of broken bones and burst organs, and certainly not any different than the rest of his kind that wants to drain you of your blood.

He’s no different.

So you throw everything you have at him.

You throw all of your insults, your trauma, your stress onto him.

Maybe it’s to make him understand what you’ve been through because of him so that he and his crew stop harassing you.

Maybe it’s because you need somebody to listen to your woes, to hear you out on all that’s been harming you since you’ve started to travel.

You don’t know.

All you know is that by the end of your fit, you’re a mess.

A weak, exhausted, vulnerable mess, able to be toyed with by the demon in disguise.

Yet, to your surprise, nothing happens to you.

Nobody roughly grabs you, hurts you, or even so much as laughs at you.

The only thing that happens is that the smell of soup wafts over to your nose, making an excess of saliva build up in your mouth.

“Seriously?”

Your voice stuffy as you speak, you lift your head up; Thatch is sitting next to you, the bowl of soup held closer.

To answer, the vampire warmly- gently, like a cool rain of shower dabbing your skin- smiles at you.

“That breakdown of yours probably took a lot out of you. It’s good to regain your energy.”

…you hate how much he reminds you of his parents.

Before everything went bad, at least.

When your dad would give you those carefree, easy grins, hoisting you over his shoulders to let you see over seas of people; your mother right next to him, laughing with your amazement of the scenery before you.

You miss them.

You miss them a lot.

Even if it was, in a sense, your own choice and fault you got kicked out, you can’t help but want to go back to your old house.

To experience what was already experienced, to feel the warmth you’ve felt before, and most importantly…

To be loved, like you were once before.

What’s done is done, though, and the actions you’ve taken have led you to your predicament.

Stuck with a vampire, who probably drugged your food so he can kidnap you and suck your blood later.

But…

…For these past few hours, he’s been nothing but kind.

At any moment in time, he could’ve just killed you- snapped your neck and drained you of your blood- with your bad leg and exhausted state, you wouldn’t even be able to run.

Thatch didn’t do any of that.

Throughout your tirade, he smiled kindly at you as he listened, not interrupting once, even when you slandered he and his crew.

Hell, he even made you food.

The vampire, who can’t taste human food, decided to make something edible for you.

He’s from the same crew as all those other vampires, but… maybe you should give him a chance?

Maybe.

Possibly.

…

A quick ‘screw off’ flying off your mouth, you snatch the food from Thatch, contents inside shaking with your hands.

Hopefully it doesn’t take like shit.

He did say he hasn’t cooked this kind of thing in a while…

Hesitation grabbing hold of your phalanges, you have to force yourself to move past it, lifting the wooden bowl up to your lips so the liquid can shyly touch your lips.

…huh.

The broth dances over your tongue, blessing its taste buds with the faint taste of chicken as slides down your throat, soothing the strained muscle with a sweet lullaby, your belly warming up from the gentle fire it carries-

…huh!

This is… this is one of the best meals you’ve ever had!

Mm!

And without a second thought, you scarf the thing down.

Practically chugging the dish, you allow the chicken to go down with little chewing, the other fruits (tomato? Lettuce??) adding a lovely harmony to the lullaby.

Oh, how delicious!

Truly, this is wonderful cooking; cooking that should be brought to the best chefs in the world and praised for its superior taste.

Off to the side, you hear the cook laugh, a ‘slow down, you’re gonna choke!’ leaving him.

You find yourself caring less about his warning.

All you can care about is this dish from the Gods, granting a blessing of survival and flavor to you, allowing you to live and enjoy what you’re eating.

Whatever god out there exists, thank you.

Within too short of a timeframe, you finish your soup. Your stomach is filled and pleasantly warm, your body once again able to produce energy for you.

Yet, all that energy is transferred to the action of closing your eyes, exhaustion washing over your body.

That breakdown you had must’ve taken a lot out of you…

“How was it?”

A hand wraps around your shoulders, and you’re pulled close to Thatch, the person’s chest used as a support pillar for you.

You hum, “It was good…” hands coming up to try and push against him, not appreciating the close contact. “Really good.”

…you can’t… push away.

You’re too weak.

Within the swamp of your mind, something sharp pricks into the mud.

You could be too tired to push away, but… it’s odd.

You have nothing to fight with.

No energy.

None.

The pricking turns into a full-on stab, creating a hole within your consciousness.

I have no energy.

“Why am…”

The words die on your tongue, syllables too heavy to force through your teeth.

Oh no.

This isn’t normal.

The lack of energy isn’t normal.

The way you can barely speak isn’t normal.

The way everything around you has become blurry, Thatch’s face nothing more than a mesh of colors, isn’t normal.

He did something.

He did something.

He did something to your food-

You feel yourself shift, the white coat of the cook all you can see.

He-!

Your teeth grit. “You…!”

“Shh…” Thatch interrupts, “Don’t worry, don’t worry. I’m not… hurt y… didn… ythi…”

What the hell…?

Whatever he’s saying is gibberish from the sea floor of your hearing; all the while black dots slowly accumulate your vision, brain begging to leave the cage of your skull-

No-!

No matter how much you fight, you fall unconscious, pliant to whatever Thatch plans for you.

-

“Damn…”

Looking down at your form, Thatch winces.

“You’ve really been through it.”

Sunken eyes, broken leg, permanently-knitted eyebrows…

How did you manage to live this long?

The cook hums, holding you a bit tighter against himself.

Facing so much danger, all on your own… he didn’t even need to drug your food. You just- fell asleep after eating his untouched cooking, because you were that tired.

And starving, possibly.

…god. He hates that thought.

Though, he supposes that doesn’t matter now.

From now on, you’ll be safe in Pops’ care.

Never again, will you have to think if you’ll have only a singular meal today.

Never again, will you have to worry about whether or not you’ll survive the next day.

Never again, will you have to recover alone from the mortal danger you faced yesterday.

Not as long as you’re with Pops.

[wangxianficfinder]

In the mood for...

LINK LIMIT HAS BEEN REACHED

Jan 19th

~*~

1. hi!! itmf a fic where

a) wen wei wuxian! or even partially wen friendly fics i suppose? i've read most stuff tagged under wen wei wuxian but feel free to recommend if u have one you really like even if it has that tag!

b) modern/college aus with a similar vibe to Red Chrysanthemums for Wei Ying/A Soft Storm by AvoOwO (strongly recommend!!). doesn't have to have such dark themes necessarily but the relationship between wwx and jc & others. Lan Zhan vs the Jiang Siblings series by phnelt is another (more lighthearted) example of what i mean! sorry ik it's vague.

c) a social media fic! preferably with the whole twitter/other social media set ups and all that fun stuff like Second Wind: An Idol Survival Show by moeblobmegane

tysm for all u do u guys are amazing!!!

1A)

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

Loneliness Knows My Name by Jaywalker_Holmes, Treef (T, 208k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Eventual Happy Ending, Unreliable Narrator, Hurt/Comfort, Fix-It of Sorts, mutual idiots)

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

Sunset, Sunrise by Ariana Deralte (ArianaDeralte) (T, 59k, WWX & WRH, WangXian, WIP, Time Travel Fix-It, Crack, Temporary Character Death, sorry I killed a-Yuan for a few paragraphs before the time travel, WWX is a Wen, Genius WWX, WRH gets to rewatch the series as a treat, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, in this house we acknowledge that all the sects have flaws, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, WWX Has ADHD, Bad Parents JFM & YZY, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Autistic LWJ, Loss of Limbs)

All Things Belong by kuroi_atropos (M, 93k, WRH & WWX, WangXian, WWX is a Wēn, Abuse, Whipping, Manipulations, Warning: WRH, Smart WWX, Possessive Behavior, Warning: JGS, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Past Rape/Non-con, Society Level Victim Blaming, Victim Blaming)

1C)

Grandmaster of Meme-onic Cultivation by Hades_the_Blingking (T, 75k, multiple ships, Chatlogs, chatfic, Texting, Comedy, Canon Compliant, Crack, Memes, Humour, JGY is best bitch, i am afraid of when LXC finally snaps, XY is a highly cursed person, NHS is still mvp tbh, chatroom fic, Polyamory, Lots of it, Not Everyone Dies, Additional: please do not eat or drink reading this enough people have choked x-x)

call me, beep me by myung (T, 39k, WangXian, MM/WQ, JC/WN, JYL/JZX, Social Media, Modern, Actors, Celebrity, Chatting & Messaging)

cookin' up a storm, piece of cake by livinginaworldofnoise (G, 9k, WangXian, Modern, Social Media, Baking, the dumbest comments u have ever seen, WWX being a troll for nearly 10k words, LWJ suffering the most that any recipe blogger has ever suffered, Baker LWJ, WWX is a Little Shit, Crack, content warning for absolute unhinged nonsense, told in the form of recipe comments and emails, Epistolary, Unconventional Format)

life, drama and action by Akai__hana (G, 13k, WangXian, JYL/JZX, Modern, Actors, singer LWJ, actor WWX, Social Media, Fluff and Humor, Established Relationship, Crack)

r/relationships by vespertineflora (T, 8k, WangXian, Modern AU, Social Media, Viral Reddit Post, Pining, Crushes, Friends to Lovers, Awkward Flirting, Romantic Gestures, Romantic Comedy, Love Confessions, Kissing, Happy Ending, r/relationships [podfic] by someplacelikebolivia)

🔒 人過留名 | Reputation by dragongirlG, PandaReads (DrPanda99) (T, 5k, JL & LSZ & LJY & OYZZ, JL & WWX, Social Media, Gusu Lan Juniors Dynamics, Humor, Chinese diaspora, Secret Identity, College/University, Modern Setting, Podfic & Podficced Works, Podfic Length: 30-45 Minutes, Mandarin speaking reader, Fic & Podfic)

~*~

2. any fics with the housewife and provider husband dynamic? (either of them could be the househusband, idrc i just want this dynamic) @ashxi-wx

crimson blue by cherrywhiskey (E, 138k, WangXian, Modern AU, Arranged Marriage, Angst with a Happy Ending, Marriage of Convenience, genius WWX, Not Jiang Family Friendly, Supportive LQR, Bottom LWJ, Eventual mpreg, Protective WWX, BAMF WWX, caring LWJ, Soap Opera, with plenty of telenovela tropes, like scheming in-laws, sizzling drama, Angst, Romance, AND SO MUCH LOVE & DEVOTION, Power Couple Wangxian, they're smitten with each other, WWX × LQR bonding, soft LWJ, but he's also got a temper, WWXs debt & duty factor is heavily focused, it's a bit whumpy initially, but Very Very Happy ending, let me show you what WWX's love looks like)

the end of And They Have Escaped The Weight of Darkness by cosmicmilktea (T, 10k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Amnesia, Screw the Cultivation world tbh, The Lan precepts deserves better, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Social justice boyfriends wangxian, Happy Ending) link in #15

~*~

3. Hello🥰 I was wondering if you had some kind of Post-Canon fanfics comp? Or Post-Canon fanfics recs? I looked through your fic comps list but, if it does exist, I couldn’t find it. If it doesn’t exist, could I ask for you fav post canon fanfics for the next itmf? Happy endings please!!! And the cutest wangxian the better!

Thank you luv, you’re doing gods work!

Bitter Plants Bearing Sweet Fruit by Kryal (M, 83k, wangxian, graphic depictions of violence, canon-typical horror elements, Worldbuilding, Desert, Misuse of Historic Setting, Original Character Death(s), Case Fic, aftermath of canon, ridiculously long author notes, Established Relationship, Nothing Explicit But Shameless Innuendo)

a safe pair of hands by occultings (microcomets) (E, 11k, WangXian, Mutual Pining, Hurt/Comfort, Whump, Body Worship, Post-Canon, Case Fic, Sharing a Bed, Getting Together, First Time, Curses, Intimacy, Touch-Starved LWJ)

And Yet Here You Are by cosmicmilktea (T, 10k, WangXian, Post-Canon, Domestic Fluff, Cloud Recesses, settling down, Separation Anxiety, Teacher WWX, very light angst, Chief Cultivator LWJ)

call me home and I’ll build you a throne by anaphoricae (E, 51k, WangXian, Post-Canon, Canon Compliant, Cloud Recesses, Getting Together, Developing Relationship, Self-Indulgent, Gusu Lan Juniors Dynamics, Touch-Starved, Non-Sexual Intimacy… and then Sexual Intimacy, Lán Juniors Gossiping about Wangxian, as a treat, Nightmares, Hurt/Comfort, Domestic Fluff, WWX Has a New Golden Core, Farmer WWX, Chief Cultivator LWJ, Mutual Pining, Communication, Quietly Falling Into a Married Life, Light Angst, Wholesome, POV LWJ, POV WWX, LWJ in braids agenda, Sharing a Bed, WWX’s Birthday, Semi-Public Sex, Cold Springs, Inventor WWX, Jealous WWX)

How to Keep Your Diplomatic Asset Close (and Your Wei Ying Closer) by His Excellency by misscam (M, 4k, WangXian, Getting Together, Fluff, Smut, Humor, CQL!verse, some inspiration from the novel)

hunters seeking solid ground by Attila (E, 23k, wangxian, Canon Compliant, discussion of canon character death, Hurt/Comfort, Nightmares, bed sharing, Getting Together, Yearning, Literal Sleeping Together, Really Excessive Amounts of Hurt/Comfort,[Podfic of] hunters seeking solid ground by exmanhater, hunters seeking solid ground by Attila [Podfic] by Rhea314 (Rhea))

If It’s You by etymologyplayground (T, 1k, WangXian, Fluff, Reunions, Getting Together, Kissing, Literal Sleeping Together, Cuddling & Snuggling, Post-Canon, Sexual Tension)

I’m Going Out (Gonna Make A Name For Me And You) by cosmicmilktea (T, 16k, WangXian, Post-Canon, Chief Cultivator LWJ, Power couple Wangxian for social change is my kink, People being nice to WWX is my kink, LWJ and I have that in common, Mentor WWX, intersect relations, cultivation sects, Slow Burn, Like seriously it's very slow, Sickness)

Linger in the Sun by etymologyplayground (T, 39k, wangxian, JC & WWX, Case Fic, Intimacy, Curses, Canon Compliant, Post-Canon, Cuddling & Snuggling, Getting Together, Romance, Sexual Tension, Scent Kink, WWX Loves To Teach, wangxian are married, Fluff, nonsexual intimacy, Scars, Sharing a Bed, Nonverbal Communication, this is HEAVY on the symbolism, Translation in Russian)

Nice work if you can get it by deliciousblizzardshark (M, 11k, WangXian, Protective LWJ, Genius WWX, Post-Canon, Fluff and Humor, Getting Together, the make people respect wwx agenda, Chief Cultivator LWJ, Soft WangXian, Hand Jobs, Blow Jobs, a very very small amount of smut, also a possessed squirrel)

爱不释手; never let me go by yiqie (E, 68k, WangXian, Case Fic, Blood and Injury, Demons, Body Horror, Mystery, The intrinsic horniness of wound tending, Yearning 2: The Electric Boogaloo, [Podfic] 爱不释手; never let me go by argentumlupine, 爱不释手; never let me go [podfic] by esbielle)

You’d Break Your Heart to Make It Bigger by vesna (mrsronweasley) (E, 32k, WangXian, soulbonding, First Time, Case Fic if You Squint, Fools in Love, soul boning, soft fools in love, Pining while fucking)

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)

build me no shrines by occultings (microcomets) (M, 54k, WangXian, Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, First Time, Getting Together, Confessions, Sharing a Bed, Hair Washing, Sentient Burial Mounds, Case Fic, Post-Canon, CQL Compliant, Hurt/Comfort, Whump, Light Angst, Flashbacks, mild body horror, foot   washing, Happy Ending, Non-Sexual Intimacy, …then sexual intimacy, [Podfic] build me no shrines by flamingwell)

~*~

4. Do you have any Wangxian fics that discuss classism? Like any that are about/mention how often Wei Wuxian is treated because he's the 'son of a servant'.

🔒 Fine Men of High Rank by Deastar (E, 3k, WangXian, Xuanwu of Slaughter Cave, Class Issues, Cuddling, Hurt/Comfort)

made for each other by KouriArashi (T, 118k, JYL/NMJ, WangXian, JC/WQ, LXC/JGY, LXC & NMJ, NMJ & NHS, JC & JYL & WWX, Canon Divergence, Romance, Developing Relationship, Slow Build, Matchmaking, Mutual Pining, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Food as a Metaphor for Love, Sibling Bonding, Class Issues, first half is fluffy but then, Sunshot Campaign, Canon-Typical Violence, Child Abuse, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Protective Boyfriends, Happy Ending, Not Everyone Dies)

Chronicles of Sect Leader Wei Wuxian by Muggle_Diary (E, 115k, WangXian, JYL/JZX, JFM/YZY, CSSR/WCZ, MM/LXC, NMJ/QS, WQ/OC, OFC / OFC, JC / OFC, Sect Leader WWX, BAMF WWX, BAMF LWJ, Genius WWX, Inventor WWX, Different First Meeting, Canon Divergence, Minor Character Death, First Time, First Kiss, Anal Sex, Sex Toys, Explicit Sexual Content, Sexual Tension, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Rough Sex, Sexual Assault, Child Abuse, Child Death, War Hero WWX, Sunshot Campaign, No Golden Core Transfer, WWX Leaves the Yunmeng Jiang Sect, Cultivation Sect Politics, Original Character(s), Wen Remnants Live, Abusive YZY, Abusive Jiang Family, Bad Parents JFM & YZY, JC Bashing, YZY Bashing, JFM Bashing, Yunmeng Jiang Sect Bashing, JYL & JZX Live, Jiang Family Bashing)

🔒 in the shadow of moonlit flowers by Reverie (cl410) (T, 56k, wangxian, LXC/NMJ, Cloud Recesses, LWJ & NHS Friendship, Developing Relationship, POV LWJ, Minor Injuries, Autistic LWJ, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, aka the Madam Yu warning, Genius WWX, Light Angst And Hurt/Comfort, WWX Protection Squad, Gusu Lan Sect, Slow Burn, Protective LWJ, LWJ-centric)

~*~

5. Do you have any fics where Wei Wuxian is the drunk one? There are so many confessions where Lan Wangji is drunk, but I'm curious if there are any where Wei Wuxian is the one drunk.

~*~

6. Hello!! for the next ITMF, are there any modern au fics where the cultivation world is a secret? sort of like in Lan Sizhui and the Whispers of the Lost by Vulpeculate

~*~

7. Hello! Happy 2025! I'm here for the next In the mood for! I'm craving a really angsty scene of the twin jades... I just really need Lan Zhan laying it out on Lan Xichen after the truth is out, because I think Lan Xichen is more focused on the fact that he killed JGY and helped killing NMJ and not of the big part he played on everything that went on with WWX and the Wens and also how he betrayed LWJ. @lostandmessedup

~*~

8. Itmf fics that explore the time when meng Yao hid lan xichen after he escaped cloud recesses. It feels like there should be more great fics about this but I haven’t found them. Especially for JGY/LXC falling in love and JGY making different choices!

walk away from the sun by KouriArashi (M, 107k, LXC/JGY, LXC & LWJ, WangXian, LWJ & JGY, LXC & NMJ, Canon Divergence, Angst, Family, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Developing Relationship, Grief/Mourning, Politics, supportive brothers, supportive husbands, Canon-Typical Violence, Lan Family Feels, Everybody Lives, Eventual Happy Ending)

and he sang about the stars by hauntme_then (M, 29k, WangXian, Brotherhood, Growing Up Together, Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, Angst, Grief/Mourning, Canonical Character Death) The MY hiding LZC part is part of a more in depth LZC POV fic, but it is a poignant and detailed part. I should also warn that the fic is dark and will not hit the last part of your request about different choices. But the LZC POV is very good and exploratory.

~*~

9. Heyo are there any fics set in the untamed universe where Wei Wuxian comes back to lan when and the juniors and its just him and Lan Zhan having so much sexual and romantic tension? Like you could cut it with a twig, like super thick in the air and the juniors are just tired of it, so they decided to do something about it or Wangxian figure it out on their own? Please let me know, and I hope you have a nice day or night😁 @yasssbassss

A Dramatic Reading by pupeez4eva (Not Rated, 5k, WangXian, Humor, Post-Canon, Public Confessions, oblivious wangxian, The Juniors accidentally write Wangxian fanfiction on a cursed scroll, Everyone suffers the consquences, Getting Together)

Far Away You Are by cqlorphan (E, 17k, WangXian, Post-Canon, Getting Together, Misunderstandings, cleared up by juniors ensemble, Explicit Consent, Bottom LWJ. Top WWX, but i’m sure they switch about it, Multiple Orgasms, Fluff and Smut, with a little angst - as a treat)

Linger in the Sun by etymologyplayground (T, 39k, wangxian, JC & WWX, Case Fic, Intimacy, Curses, Canon Compliant, Post-Canon, Cuddling & Snuggling, Getting Together, Romance, Sexual Tension, Scent Kink, WWX Loves To Teach, wangxian are married, Fluff, nonsexual intimacy, Scars, Sharing a Bed, Nonverbal Communication, this is HEAVY on the symbolism, Translation in Russian) link in #3

tell some storm by qurbat (G, 31k, wangxian, JC & WWX, LSZ & WWX, NHS & WWX, Post-Canon, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, liberal amounts of outsider POV, the legend of wangxian, how to create a romance epic for dummies)

🔒 The Absolutely True Story of the Yiling Patriarch: A Manifesto in Many Parts by aubreyli (T, 19k, WangXian, In-Universe RPF, Romance Novel, LJY’s sense of justice, OYZZ’s sense of romance, Featuring a surprise appearance by WWX’s oft-absent sense of shame, Look the ducklings just want their sort-of dads to be happy okay?, And it’s not like WWX or LWJ are doing a good job of ensuring their own happiness, LJY rejects canon reality and substitutes his own, highly relatable actually, Post-Canon Fix-It, primarily drama-canon with cameos from novel-canon, The Absolutely True Story of the Yiling Patriarch: A Manifesto in Many Parts by aubreyli [Podfic] by Rhea314 (Rhea))

~*~

10. Hello! I'm itmf any A) Wangxian fics that are funny, and b) good uncle lqr fics in post canon!

10A)

Once upon a moonlit night, in Gusu by naqaashi (E, 1k, WangXian, Fluff and Crack, Humor, Suffering LQR, LQR is So Done, JC is So Done, Outdoor Sex, Married WangXian, Established Relationship, Shameless Smut, Shameless WangXian, Post-Canon, LQR Metaphorically Qi-Deviates, Poor LQR, Gremlin WWX, Petty LWJ, WangXian Being Cringe, Public Display of Affection, Accidental Voyeurism) Just read this one last night and it was very funny, especially the second half. #prayforLQR

Important Distinctions by nagi_blue (T, 5k, Gen, Fluff and Crack, [Podfic] Important Distinctions by semperfiona_podfic (semperfiona)

Transcend by covalentbonds (Not Rated, 7k, WIP, WangXian, Post-Canon, Fluff and Humor, Smut, YLLZ WWX is prettiest fight me)

🔒 and in the spring i shed my skin by wvlfqveen (T, 11k, WangXian, Modern with Magic, Professors, Shapeshifter LWJ, Not Quite Necromancer WWX, Mutual Pining, WWX being an oblivious idiot, Fluff, Love Confessions, yunmeng trio, Family Feels, get JC therapy 2020, Kissing)

are you my wisdom tooth? because i'd like to take you out by yellowcarnations (G, 3k, WangXian, Modern, Established Relationship, Fluff, Humor, this is like drunk LWJ but leveled up to the max, its not ooc if u blame it on the anaesthesia)

The Late Great Custody Debate by stiltonbasket (G, 9k, WangXian, LXC/NMJ, JYL/JZX, JYL & WWX & JC, Modern, Domestic Fluff, baby a-yuan, Single Parent WWX, LWJ is a confused rabbit owner, nielan are married, nhs is: xoxo gossip girl, Custody Arrangements, engagement fluff, Confused WWX, WWX voice: if i'm the one with the kid why are you suing ME for child support?, LWJ kills his own love life in the worst way, Happy Ending)

The Bunnies and The Roomba: A Love Story by Nikki373 (T, 6k, WangXian, Fluff, Humor, Idiots in Love, Getting Together, Happy Ending, Siblings, Siblings Try and Are Trying, Modern, College/University, ,It's kinda more grad school adjacent, 1 if by phone; 2 if by text; 3 if by mouth, Kisses, Romance, Falling In Love, LXC is the eternal captain of the good ship Wangxian)

Covered in Bees by ScarlettStorm (T, 8k, WangXian, Modern AU, Beekeeping AU, Meet-Cute, Comedy, Fluff, Bees, come for the flirting, stay for the bee facts, and the bee puns)

10B)

No Strings Attached by stiltonbasket (G, 3k, WangXian, LQR & WWX, NieLan, Canon DivergenceFix-It, LQR is a good uncle, wwx is much smarter than he looks, and by that I mean he's a genius, Smitten LWJ, Golden Core Reveal) Chef's kiss.

🔒❤️ Joy In the Midst of These Things Series by Glitterbombshell (T/G, 53k, WangXian, Angst with Happy Ending, Post-Canon, Teacher WWX, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff)

Seasons of Falling Flowers by merakily (G, 40k, WangXian, LQR & WWX, LQR & LWJ, Canon Compliant, Post-Canon, Character Study, Introspection, In-Laws, Golden Core, Emotional Baggage, Family Bonding, Protective LWJ, Good Parent LQR, LQR has feelings, LQR & WWX become friends)

someone like you by Basingstoke (G, <1k, wangxian, Future Fic, Cloud Recesses, Teacher WWX)

Overwhelming Enthusiasm by Shadaras (M, 1k, LQR & WWX, LQR & LWJ, WangXian, POV Outsider, Aftermath of Violence, Coitus Interruptus, Good Uncle LQR, Nerd WWX, Family Feels)

Menace by MnemonicMadness (T, 7k, LQR & WWX WangXian, Hurt/Comfort, Hurt WWX, BAMF WWX, Downplaying an Injury, awkward comforter LQR, reluctant matchmaker LQR, Humor, Pining WWX, Good Uncle LQR, Self-Sacrificing WWX, POV LQR, LQR is stressed, And also secretly a softie, Post-Canon)

Inconceivable by merakily (G, 3k, WangXian, LQR & WWX, post-canon, fluff, humor, in-laws, chief cultivator LWJ)

🔒 Five Shades of Home by DrPanda99 (G, 13k, wangxian, post-canon, Chinese New Year, grief/mourning, hurt/comfort, introspection, homecoming, domesticity, JC & WWX reconciliation, good uncle LQR, dumblings)

Deeper Seasons by piecrust (G, 8k, LQR & WWX, WangXian)

I'm Sorry & Thank You by Iamnotawriter (T, 12k, WangXian, LQR & WWX, Canon Compliant, Post-Canon, Golden Core, Canon-Typical Violence, lqr's epipheny, Angst with a Happy Ending)

~*~

11. Itmf fics which make your heart full just by reading how good of a book it is, like exceptional plot and writing with minimum or explainable ooc-ness, above 100k, for ex: Dispersing Clouds , and Twelve Moons And A Fortnight. Theres more but I don't remember. @jaywuji

The Shade of Old Trees by Kryal (T, 363k, WangXian, History, Canon Divergence, Modern, Slow Burn, Worldbuilding, Slow Life, Action/Adventure, Magic Returns, BAMF WWX) the author even explains all their worldbuilding and character choices

Bitter Plants Bearing Sweet Fruit by Kryal (M, 83k, wangxian, graphic depictions of violence, canon-typical horror elements, Worldbuilding, Desert, Misuse of Historic Setting, Original Character Death(s), Case Fic, aftermath of canon, ridiculously long author notes, Established Relationship, Nothing Explicit But Shameless Innuendo) link in #3

We Meet at the Thousandth Step by Admiranda, Rynne (T, 316k, WangXian, CSSR/WCZ, Canon Divergence, No Sunshot Campaign, CSSR & WCZ Live, Rogue Cultivator WWX, Different First Meeting, Night Hunts, Genius WWX, Inventor WWX, Plot, Romance, Drama, Fluff, Strangers to married, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Everyone Lives, Developing Relationship, Minor Violence, Case Fic, Mystery, Flirting, WWX’s Canon-Typical Flower Flirting, Arson, There Was Only One Bed, Getting Together, First Kiss, Meeting the Parents, Resolved Sexual Tension, Resolved Romantic Tension, WWX Is a Good Big Brother, New Relationship Bliss, Chinese Mythology & Folklore, Blood and Injury, Yiling siblings, Married WangXian, Honeymoon, Wangxian’s Baby Fever)

🔒 Building it back, stone by stone and seal by seal by KizuKatana (M, 134k, WangXian, WWX & Wen Remnants, WWX & Wen Siblings, canon-divergent, post cultivation war, nobody won, WWX starts out alone as a fugitive lone cultivator, then finds a home, then finds a family, not a reincarnation fic, just alternate reality where not everyone who was in original canon existed during the war, starting the cultivation world over from scratch, Found Family, Comfort fic, carving out a new safe home, First Time)

Birthday Party by waffles_4_breakfast (E, 102k, WangXian, Graphic Depictions of Violence, Fix-It, Canon Divergence, Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Misunderstandings, Sharing a Bed, Angst with a Happy Ending, Happy Ending, Getting Together, Mutual Pining, Canon-Typical Violence, Pining, Slow Burn, Poison, Torture, Requited Unrequited Love, First Time, Anal Sex, Anal Fingering, Rough Sex, Oral Sex, Come as Lube, Bondage, Dom/sub Undertones, Spit As Lube, Rimming, Consensual Non-Consent, Safe Sane and Consensual, Additional Warnings In Author’s Note)

🔒 and having a marvelous time by varnes (E, 108k, WangXian, Yúnmèng Siblings, Sound of Music AU, (i know!!! i know. stay with me on this.), Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, Family Feels, spies to lovers???, Protective Siblings, Sometimes You Just Want Your Dads To Admit They’re Your Dads, Angst with a Happy Ending)

A Life Without Regrets by naqaashi (M, 163k, WangXian, JFM & WWX, JC & WWX, WRH & WWX, LXC & LWJ, LQR & LWJ, LWJ & NHS, Canon Divergence, Time Travel Fix-It, Angst and Humor, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Crack Treated Seriously, Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, Rogue Cultivator WWX, Murder Husbands, PTSD, BAMF WWX, Cultivation Sect Politics, Genius WWX, Cultivation Theory, Sentient Burial Mounds, Dysfunctional Family, Grief/Mourning, Angry WWX, No Golden Core Transfer, BAMF LWJ, Angry LWJ, One-Braincell WangXian, Idiots in Love, Requited Love, Requited Unrequited Love, Soft WangXian, Married WangXian, Soulmates, Not Cultivation World Friendly, Immortal WWX, Canon-Typical Violence, Not JC Friendly, Not Yunmeng Jiang friendly, not gusu lan friendly, Immortal LWJ)

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)

Just go forward like you mean it by tawaen (M, 101k, WangXian, WWX & WN &WQ, WWX & JYL, NHS & WWX, Canon Divergence, WWx does not attend the Wen indoctrination, WWX saves Lotus Pier, Inventor WWX, No Golden Core Transfer, Sect Leader JYL, JC Has No Golden Core, Bad Parents JFM & YZY, Not JC Friendly, but he gets a happier ending than canon so don’t look here for bashing)

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

Love Song In Reverse by timetoboldlygo (T, 237k, WangXian, Amnesia, Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Falling In Love, Slow Burn, agressively mixing and matching novel and cql canon, No Homophobia, Mentions of Starvation, Parental WWX)

the problem with authority by isabilightwood (M, 139k, wangxian, qingli, Canon Divergence, Sacrifice Summon, slightly dark!JYL, wq lives because i said so, Angst with a Happy Ending, Chronic Pain, Mild Sexual Content, Top/Bottom Versatile | Switch WangXian, manipulative relationship (background xiyao))

🔒 Cultivating immortality by KizuKatana (E, 231k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Rogue Cultivator WWX, Mutual Pining, BAMF WWX, BAMF LWJ, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, unreliable narrator, Found Family, First Time, novel canon relationship dynamics) Besides Madam Yu being a bit more comically evil than in cannon, I feel Wangxian were pretty in character for the cannon divergence and afterwards.

🧡 Stunted, Starving Juvenility by TomatenMark (E, 887k, WangXian, WIP, Cloud Recesses Study Arc, Getting Together, Supportive LQR, Hurt/Comfort, Fix-It of Sorts, Supportive LXC, Canon Divergence, Inventor WWX, Possessive LWJ, Cultivation Sect Politics, Pre-Sunshot Campaign, Fluff and Smut, Burning of the Cloud Recesses, Fall of Lotus Pier, Angst, Sunshot Campaign, Not JFM Friendly, split into parts, Part 1 complete, Part 2 complete, Original Character(s)) They start off pretty in character and any deviations are pretty well explained by the situation, or can be completely interpreted as a consequence of shown off screen actions. Like I’ve read most all of this fic, and for a while now I’ve gotten the feeling wangxian wasn’t the only one affected by LQR’s rifling through the Lan’s “possibly dangerous artifacts room”. But the author’s actually really good at keeping the characters 1 feeling like human beings and 2 capturing the original feeling of the characters even when the au goes in a wildly different direction than cannon does.

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12. Hello and happy New Year!! I've been following this page since it's infancy but I've never asked before, and decided to finally give it a shot. (Hopefully I'm doing it right.) :D

I was hoping you could recommend fics.

A) Any fics where WWX raises LSZ from being a baby and they have a deep connection with each other. Best if WWX doesn't die or have to leave. Similar to their relationship in "Edge of Night" by Hobbsy3. (Doesn't have to be Single Dad WWX)

B) Also, looking for any fic where WWX goes crazy. Similarly to the fic where LWJ dies and WWX goes mad trying to revive him, he does and eventually the fic ends with both of them passing at Cloud Recesses. (Unfortunately, I can't remember the name of the fic.)

Thank you so much for all your hard work in continuing this blog after Miss Mojo's retirement. (⁠人⁠*⁠´⁠∀⁠｀⁠)⁠｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+

12A)

🔒❤️ kick at the darkness ‘til it bleeds daylight by AlfAlfAlfAlfAlf, tardigradeschool (T, 75k, WangXian, Hurt/Comfort, Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Eventual Happy Ending, Getting Together, Burial Mounds Settlement Days, Inspired by The Parent Trap (1998), Kid Fic, teen shenanigans, two a-yuans, Fluff and Angst)

it’s a long road but we’re not alone by Stratisphyre (M, 61k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies, Parenthood, Grief/Mourning, Family Feels, Reunions, Golden Core Reveal, Getting Together)

🔒 how to make your dad fall in love with your high school teacher in five steps; the complete and bulletproof guide by ravenditefairylights (T, 90k, wangxian, modern, coffee shop au, nonbinary LSZ, hurt/comfort, trauma, past abuse, past domestic violence, healing, hurt WWX, found family, hospitalization, therapy, single parent WWX, pining, teacher LWJ, unreliable narrator, chronic pain, queer platonic relationship, genderfluid WWX, autistic LWJ, fluff & angst)

my little love by mellowflicker (T, 54k, WangXian, Modern AU, Single Parent WWX, kindergarten teacher!lwj, Kid Fic, Hurt/Comfort, Domestic Fluff, Pining)

Picture Perfect by manaika (M, 22k, WangXian, WWX/Other(s), Past Relationship(s), Widower WWX, Grief/Mourning, Getting Together, Families of Choice, Family Feels, Stepfather WWX, WWX is the father who stepped up, LSZ is a Wei, Single Parent WWX, Asexual Character, Aromantic Relationship, Platonic Life Partners, it's all in the past and only mentioned/discussed when relevant, Sex-Favorable Asexual WWX, Romance, Hurt/Comfort, Modern, Past Character Death, Food Intake Related Medical Issue (not what you think))

And They Were Quarantined by thunderwear (E, 3zun, WangXian, LXC & LWJ, NHS & LWJ, quarantine fic, Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, LXC is a total slut for his roommates and he isn't even trying to hide it, Eventual Smut, Mutual Pining, Sexual Tension, Getting Together, Single Dad WWX, Long-Distance Relationship, kind of??, Fluff, almost no angst, Happy Ending, First Time, Phone Sex, switching POV, Domestic Fluff, Rabbits, little a-yuan is the best, Anxiety Attacks, Touch-Starved, LWJ gets his hug!, And Then Some ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡° ), a-yuan is best boy, A-Yuan is an agent of chaos and everyone thinks its cute, And they're right …but not for long?, NHS should never be trusted alone with kids)

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13. Hi again, you wonderful people, you! Thank you so much for all your hard work! ITMF post-canon fics where for some reason WWX has to perform Empathy in LWJ, and for the first time he sees the suffering LWJ went through in the 13/16 missing years. Bonus points if it causes him a ton of angst. @thegertie

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14. Hi, ITMF for:

A) fics where Wei Wuxian uses other weapons apart from the sword or flute (not once off either, at least using the other weapon 2 or 3 times)

B) fics where Wei Wuxian has an animal companion, preferably crows/ravens but other animal will do as long as they are prevalent

Thank you mods and community for the hard work!! Have a lovely day <3 @nyankokoko

14B)

Your love gives me Wings by SaiaiSaiko (M, 27k, WangXian, WWX Lives, MXY Lives, Winx Club Fusion, Enchantix Form, Sirenix From Winx Club, Believix From Winx Club, fairy WWX, Witch WWX, Curses, bad health, Bad Health through Curses, Spiritual Tools are Pixies, Accelerated Aging, older looking WWX, Fairy NHS, BAMF WWX, BAMF NHS, WWX in WWX's Body, JZX Lives, NMJ Lives, JYL Lives, The following tags contain spoilers, Evil JGS, Trans MXY, Self-Discovery, Misgendering, Victim JGY, Curse Breaking) is a winx club fuion where Wei Wuxian does have his fairy animal

Tamer of Darkness and Ghosts by SaiaiSaiko (T, 16k, WangXian, WIP, Pokemon Fusion, Older WWX, Younger LWJ, Older LXC, Basically everyone is older but LWJ & NHS, Younger NHS, BAMF WWX, The Wen's live, YLLZ WWX, Burial Mounds Settlement Days) ok 14 is shameles self promotion and wierd, so take it or leave it but Tamer of Darkness and Ghost is a full on Pokemon fusion WIP

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

Run Off The World by Sapphire_Roses (M, 336k, wangxian, XuanLi, SongXiao, WIP, Not Everyone Dies AU, Canon Divergence, Wen Remnants Live, Flashbacks, YLLZ WWX, WWX Creates a Sect | Yiling Wei Sect, Sect Leader WWX, Married WangXian, OCs, POV Outsider, Morally Grey Characters, (Do Take That Tag Seriously), Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Family Feels, Developing Friendships, Fluff, Attempt at Humor, Yunmeng Siblings Feels, Gusu Siblings Feels, Sibling Bonding, Pining, Character Study, Tenderness, Mild Smut, POV Alternating, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, Minor Character Death)

Odd Geometry by maziodyne (M, 116k, WIP, WangXian, ChengSang, XuanLi, QingLi, background NieLan, AU - WWX does not grow up in Lotus Pier, WWX Isn't Adopted by the Jiangs, Elemental Magic Healer!WWX, Sunshot Campaign, Post-Sunshot Campaign, Slow Burn, letter writing, romance, flirting at inopportune times, Crows, Familiars, Homoeroticism, epic divorce incoming, triple agent wq, lockpicking, communication (but does it change anything?))

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15. hi! ITMF some fics in which WWX has a medical problem that impacts him a lot. Can be modern or canon. @nao13th

Lay my body down by tawaen (M, 48k, WWX & WQ, WWX & WN, wangxian, WWX & JYL, Canon Divergence, Time Travel, Rogue Cultivator WWX, Eventual WangXian, No Golden Core Transfer, Not Cultivation World Friendly, Canon-Typical Violence, Not JC Friendly, What if WWX saw the first siege of the burial mounds and said Nope to the war, OCs, OC point-of-view for one chapter for plot reasons)

The River Brought You Here by ChilianXianzi (Not Rated, 11k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, POV Outsider, Amnesia, not JC friendly, Past abuse, Strangulation, Found Family)

And They Have Escaped The Weight of Darkness by cosmicmilktea (T, 10k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Amnesia, Screw the Cultivation world tbh, The Lan precepts deserves better, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Social justice boyfriends wangxian, Happy Ending)

Work in Tandem by MimiSpearmint (E, 23k, WangXian, Modern with Magic, Single Parent LWJ, when you just want disability-led sword lessons for your child, swordflight instructor!wwx, swordflight instructor!lwj, Fluff, give lwj friends agenda, Protective LWJ, Getting Together, Intercrural Sex, Choking, Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Implied off-screen D/s negotiations)

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

🔒 some things go forward by everythingispoetry (T, 73k, WangXian, Modern AU, Hospitals, Teenage Drama, Slow Burn, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Happy Ending)

Come Around and Stay by trippednfell (M, 160k, WangXian, NieLan, Slow Burn, Kid Fic, Found Family, Modern AU, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, PTSD, Blood and Injury, Dissociation, Angst with a Happy Ending, Musicals, POV Alternating, Baking, Yunmeng reconciliation (eventually), Friend Zoning, Literal Sleeping Together, Hurt/Comfort, Panic Attacks)

Like a Water-Worn Stone by meyari (T, 41k, wangxian, major character death, Hurt/Comfort, very little hurt, lots of comfort, Chronic Illness, Serious Injuries, Self-Medication, Disability, PTSD, Depression, Self-Worth Issues, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, aftermath of war, Aftermath of Violence, Prisoner of War, Identity Issues, Warning: Jīn Guāngshàn, enslavement (discussion of), abuse (discussion of), actually very fluffy despite the warnings)

~*~

16. heyo, are there any fics where its like modern or something and Wei Wuxian is dating Lan When but has trouble communicating with Lan When because every time he does something, he feels like he messes up but lan Zhan just loves him no matter what? Please let me know, please and thank you😁 @yasssbassss

Wei Ying and Lan Zhan are not dating in all of these but I think they have the communication issues you're describing: The Mistletoe Virgin by Vamillepudding (G, 12k, WangXian, Modern AU, Romantic Comedy, Friends to Lovers, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Deaf LWJ)

Not Just Netflix and Chill (Or Lan Zhan’s Lack of Grasp of Euphemisms) by misscam (M, 4k, WangXian, Modern, Getting Together, Humor, Romance)

Grace and a tender hand by feyburner (T, 4k, WangXian, Modern, First Date, Sickfic, Hurt/Comfort, Misunderstandings, Fluff)

🔒 California Here We Come (Right Back Where We Started From) by LizzyPanic (M, 23k, WangXian, LXC & LWJ, Getting Together, Misunderstandings, Communication, Breaking Up & Making Up, Miscommunication, Pining, Modern , America, Break Up, Insecurity)

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17. Haloo!! I read accross the street to another life like a month ago and i can't get over it 😭😭 Could you pls recommend a fic similiar?? Thanks in advance!!! @for13years-i-play-inquiry-foryou

Mask by BurningTea (M, 30k, WangXian, Rape/Non-Con, Non con tag refers to activity between WWX and LWJ which WWX believes to be consensual, Bottom LWJ, War Prize LWJ, YLLZ WWX, Canon Divergence, dubcon) Lan Zhan is captured and controlled by the Wens, similar to Across the street to another life. Please mind the tags on Mask, though.

Turn Left by kianspo (M, 204k, WangXian, LXC & LWJ, LWJ & XXC, LXC/NMJ, Canon Divergence, Fix-It of Sorts, Friends to Loverse, ventually, references to child sexual abuse, not main characters, Canon-Typical Violence, Neurodivergent LWJ, LXC is the best brother, Slow Build, Lan Family Feel, Twin Jades of Lan Feels, LWJ-centric, Twin Jades of Lan Dynamics, basically a lot of twin jades in a wangxian fic, Not Everyone Dies, Angst with a Happy Ending, they switch your honor) It's similar to Across the street to a different life in that Lan Zhan is kidnapped at a young age and leads a very different life from what is expected.

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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!***