#fic: fuck this bitch in particular

[yourlocaldisneyvillain]

i wish there was a space for actual adults within this fandom. i guess i will have to create it, even if it's just me and other five people and a shoelace. i wonder how this whole thing is gonna develop!

#personal #the entire internet but also this fandom specifically is infested with ppl whose reading comprehension is lower than a 6th grader's #can't a gal enjoy a middle-aged actress without being pestered by toddlers with pitchforks #and i know i'm the pettiest bitch but i am ANNOYED esp when i see how old these ppl are. if you're over 25 you have no excuse daskjfhg #like i have cut my audience in half at least! if not more with this fic #but i'm happy bc i'm producing content i wanna produce #i wonder how my new fics are gonna be received #after i finish “particular” i have another thing coming up that ppl probs won't like lol #but i think it's important i post it #and then we have murder mysteries and gothic horror and wooooo you know #it's gonna be fun! and a bit disturbing! #wonder if imma be dragged on twitter again lol #but i sincerely hope no one will care lol #honestly i never expected ppl to care THAT much but i guess they did #it also annoys me that a concerningly small amount seems to care abt the actual quality of writing #and i'm over here agonising about Stylistic Choices(TM) lol #i feel like it flies over ppl's heads and they just wanna read abt larissa weems fucking them with a shapeshifted dick #which okay i guess but also what abt Literature #you could do smth creative with a shapeshifting character just saying. and include your magic cocks or whatever tf you're into #ah i am fuming in vain i will just write my lil fics and hope i don't get a new influx of kys messages lol

[lordsardine]

.

#okay like sue me. sometimes i google 'neioo' just because im a nosey bitch and want to see if anyone is talking about my fics #(i just got a comment on awh and like it makes me nostalgic etc. whatever. wanted to see if anything posted somewhere prompted it) #and i havent done this in a while #so please tell me why. WHY am i cited in someone's fucking PhD dissertation #yes the paper overall is about fandom and examining hetalia in particular so it's not like out of left field #but there are two fics total cited and mine is one. AND also there is a post from my fucking neioo blog cited??? #like my book announcement one?? #and neither of these are cited directly in the dissertation just at the end #so now i feel like im going a bit insane but like okay #i have work i need to be doing and i was reading this fucking dissertation instead #wish i could turn to 15 year old me and be like 'hey there champ. you know that fic series youre day dreaming in your head #that you don't want to write down because you think no one will read it #good stuff. anyway. one day it'll be cited in a dissertation #oh and your grandmother will have read it. have a good day' #...............well. now i need to focus back on work

[scottspack]

LIKE A PHOENIX FROM THE ASHES......: UNTAMED FIC REC PART 5

WELL HOWDY YALL! HAPPY THANKSGIVING TO THOSE WHO CELEBRATE! In my last fic rec, published on February 12, 2021, I made a joke about how one day I would get a job and wouldn’t be able to read 856 fics a day. I started another fic rec on April 21, 2021, and then promptly got my job back in early May, causing the fic rec to remain abandonded in my google docs for a year and a half. In that time I’ve moved across the country, settled in a new city, stanned BTS, and had many incredible professional and personal opportunities. And where has all of that brought me? Right back to untamed fic, apparently. This past week i got the itch and have been consuming untamed fic at unprecedented rates, which has inspired me to blow the e-dust off of my abandoned untamed fic rec, add in the shit i’ve read since then, and present it to you; anyone who still cares about the untamed in November 2022! (But mostly this is for @kerasines​, who enouraged me to do this, and @jlf23tumble​, who all of my fic recs are for, always.)

The rules to this rec are the same, but since it’s been a minute: these are in no particular order, they’re mostly wangxian, my favorites are marked with asterisks, and if you read any of these you are contractually obligated to come discuss them with me.

[jungkook bts voice] let’s get it!

The Fire Lapping Up the Creek by notevenyou (Wangxian, E, 66k) ***

Wei Wuxian travels to Lanling for his nephew’s one-month celebration alone, without Wen Ning.

Lan Wangji lives with the consequences.

Canon divergence au where lwj ends up joining the wen settlement and things play out differently from there. OKAY. Okay. I think this might be the last of the Really Big Fics in the fandom that I put off reading for whatever reason and GOD. DAMN. I should not have put off reading this. There is a reason this fic is Big and it’s because its SO GOOD!!!! One of those fics where every single chapter had me gasping out loud, crying real tears, and re-reading full paragraphs bc they were so GOOD. AHHHH!

2022 note: Some of these fics i havent returned to in the year and half since i was ass-deep in the untamed fandom. This is not one of those fics. This is a true, bonafide Classic that I’ve reread multiple times, and been impressed by every single time.

Last note: it wouldn’t be me if i didnt embarrass myself fully in a fic rec, but this author also has an absolutely AMAZING bts namgi fic if that’s something you’re into...actually...all of their bts fics are incredible...

Still in the Water by airgeer (Jin Ling & Lan Sizhui, background Wangxian, T, 45k)

A year after Jin Ling's early succession to the position of Sect Leader, a letter is delivered to him under strange circumstances. A night-hunt follows.

Hanguang-Jun shook his head, and played again. This time, the response was slower, almost coy.

“What did it say?” Jin Ling asked.

“Hanguang-Jun asked what it was doing here,” Lan Sizhui translated. “The response was ‘Waiting.’”

HOLY SHIT. this fic…..is bonkers. It’s another extremely interesting and action-packed case fic. Written in Jin Ling’s perspective, strange forces have been gathering the sect leaders to a strange town where they have to solve a mystery. When i tell you, this fic was the first ever untamed fic to made me cry for non-romance related reasons. It’s SO intense, and SO high-stakes my hands were literally SWEATING reading this shit. 10/10, would let it give me a panic attack again.

After the Final Rose by azurewaxwing (Wangxian, E, 55k)

(A talking-head interview. JIN ZIXUN, 36, entrepreneur.)

JZX: Oh, yeah, he’s a fucking catch, alright. He’s rich, he’s hot, he’s a Lan. Like, he’s been ranked number two among the local bachelors for years, and now that his brother’s seeing someone, he’s number one, right? So, yeah, of course I want to win.

Offscreen voice: Do you know anything else about him, besides that he’s rich and hot?

JZX: (shrugging) What else is there to know?

In which Lan Wangji agrees, reluctantly, to be The Bachelor, only to fall in love with Wei Wuxian, his cameraman/producer. Can the Bachelor find his way to a happy ending? And will The Bachelor: Lan Wangji be a ratings hit?

UM LMFAO!!!!!!!! Have I ever watched the bachelor in my entire life? Absolutely not. Was this au well written, thoughtfully planned out, and extremely interesting enough to make me not care? Yes oh my GOD!!!!!!!!!! I fully screamed through the entirety of this fic because it was so FUN! 

too much, not enough by Shamelesscooper (Wei Wuxian/Jiang Cheng, E, 14k) 

“Okay, so good news!” Wei Wuxian says, swanning into the room with just enough energetic cheer that Jiang Cheng knows whatever it is he’s going to say is going to be awful. “We figured out the nature of your curse! You’re probably not going to die! It’s not even going to hurt!”

“Yeah? And what’s the bad news?” Jiang Cheng gruffs, crossing his arms over his chest.

Wei Wuxian does a double-take, like he’d expected his (fake) good mood to fool Jiang Cheng. Like it’s ever managed to fool Jiang Cheng. His laugh is a little shrill, a little frenetic as he says, “Well, uh. You know our ghost friend back there? Yeah, she’s possessing you. Which is why...” He makes a gesture at the general area of Jiang Cheng’s... problem.

“Ah,” Jiang Cheng said, expression souring. “I’m not going to like the cure, am I?”

“You’re not going to like the cure,” Wei Wuxian nods.

-

Jiang Cheng gets cursed on a nighthunt. Wei Wuxian helps him with the cure.

It’s not one of my fic recs if there isn’t at least one (1) fic i feel deeply ashamed for reccing. Here’s that fic for this rec! Post-canon Jiang Cheng gets hit with a sex curse and wangxian, who are married, agree that wwx is the best one to help him out. This was very well written and made me very emotional and i’m always a sucker for yunmeng bros reconciliation, even if it’s in a form that could get me hashtag canceled.

Three Days and a Morning by snickersnacker (Wangxian, E, 14k)

“Do you know how annoying you are sometimes?” Lan Wangji asked, not unplayfully.

Wei Wuxian beamed. “Do you know how stodgy you are sometimes?” he replied.

“How stodgy was this?” Lan Wangji said with a tiny smirk, referring to what they’d just done together in bed.

Wei Wuxian conceded the point. “This has to be against at least one of your rules,” he replied.

Lan Wangji looked suddenly serious. “There are no rules against love.”

---

Between the lines of episodes 42-43, Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji return to Cloud Recesses and finally figure things out.

Another episode 43 canon-divergence au that i really really enjoyed! Highlights of this one include wangxian crying about how much they love each other and a very fun sex scene, both of which are just *chefs kiss*

Let's take a ride round the curves of desire by feyburner (Wangxian, E, 5k)

Wei Ying was sprawled on the floor in front of the oscillating fan when Lan Zhan got home from work.

I’m still mad at feyburner for starting that really good wangxian star trek au and then never finishing it, BUT. this sweet little wlw!wangxian ficlet asuages the anger in my heart just a little bit.

2022 note: THE WANGXIAN STAR TREK AU HAS BEEN FINISHED AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

i will be soft in your heart by martyrsdaughter (Juniors OT4, E, 11k)

"You've been sitting on this," he said, "for five years? A little warning would be nice!" 

Sizhui's responding look was somehow both wicked and absolutely serene. Jingyi saw some of Zewu-Jun in it, which made him just... unfair. Unjust! Ridiculous! So attractive he once again wondered why he'd ever been invited to this relationship. Zizhen was there for moral support, obviously, and because he was too sweet to resist. Jingyi offered little of that.

"I didn't think you were unaware," Sizhui pointed out, as though he were merely reminding him of a pressing appointment. "After our last visit to Koi Tower, did you not ask me to, quote, 'fuck you until you forgot what Jin Ling's forearms look like'?" 

I can’t believe this is the first ever juniors foursome fic i've ever come across bc the material is RIGHT there, but it’s fine bc i've found it now! General plot is Jingyi/Sizhui/Zizhen have all been in a throuple for a while and finally get Jin Ling to join and it’s very cute and sweet and i love all my cute sweet boys!

The Ritual by nightwalker (Wangxian, E, 12k)

Lan Xichen asks Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji to participate in a ritual for the protection of the Cloud Recesses. There may be some ulterior motives going on.

Wangxian have semi-not-really-public sex for the greater good of the Gusu Lan, as you do.

Crack me open, pour you out by Tenillypo (Wangxian, E, 16k)

"Lan Zhan," Wei Ying says carefully, "do you truly not know you have been speaking?"

Lan Wangji claps a hand to his mouth and, to his horror, feels his mouth opening to answer despite having no intention to do so. Clamping it shut again takes a great effort.

OR

The one where Lan Wangji can't stop talking, and a mild amount of chaos ensues.

I bet you were like “damn, this far into a fic rec from liv and not a SINGLE post-canon-get-together-via-a-curse fic?” YOU FOOL. here it is! Lwj gets cursed to speak his mind! Three guesses as to what’s on lwj’s mind :)

can’t turn off what turns me on by sophiahelix (Yizhan, E, 2k)

The phone screen goes black, and he lies next to Yibo, feeling like he’s been turned inside out. As far as porn goes, it was barely even explicit, but the intimacy of the scene and knowing it’s something Yibo likes enough to watch over and over have left him stunned, not sure what to do next.

At long last, Xiao Zhan licks his lips. “That’s — what you want?”

It was so simple, but he can tell Yibo’s embarrassed as he clears his throat and mutters, “yeah.”

YIZHAN! For whatever reason, this smutty little yizhan one shot has stayed on. my. mind. And i’m not even someone who’s big into daddy kink. The power of sophiahelix i guess! WAIT SPEAKING OF…

yesterday, tomorrow by sophiahelix (Yizhan, E, 80k) ***

Before he’s even finished reading, Xiao Zhan knows this is the script, the one that could alter the course of his career. Not like Chen Qing Ling changed his life six years ago, catapulting him from a minor idol to a household name, or the way his more serious roles have slowly taken him to the upper echelons of dramatic actors. This is a love story, daring and bold, groundbreaking and unforgettable, if only he’s brave enough to do it.

So of course, eventually, they bring up the idea of casting Yibo as his lover.

In the summer of 2025, Xiao Zhan and Yibo reunite as the leads in a gay indie film, bringing their complicated offscreen history with them—and secret hopes of making things right.

AUTHOR SOPHIAHELIX DESERVES A NOBEL PEACE PRIZE FOR THIS FIC. yo……. YO……. The premise is that yizhan are back together to film a gay indie movie where they play lovers SO IM SURE YOU CAN GUESS WHERE THIS IS GOING. Boy howdy. This might damn well be one of my favorite fics of all time. I know some people aren’t into super long fics but if ever there were one i would urge you to give a shot, it’s this one. *lady gaga voice* talented, brilliant, incredible, amazing, show stopping, spectacular

2022 note: a year and a half later and i still think about this fic CONSTANTLY. i just think.......2025........it could happen.........

Pins and Needles by kisahawklin (Wangxian/Wen Ning, E, 7k)

Wei Wuxian works out how to give Wen Ning various sensory experiences. Of course this was always going to lead to sex.

It’s my fic rec and i’ll rec wangxian/wen ning fic if i want!!!!!!! I just think there’s nothing wrong with Wen Ning being appreciated in the way he deserves! Wen Ning stans make some NOISE!!!!!!!!!!

Lucky man by Onomatopoetikon (Wangxian, E, 3k)

“They really wore you down this time, huh, Lan Zhan?” Wei Ying asks as he removes the elaborate headpieces from Lan Wangji’s hair after dinner, his nimble fingers unlocking clasps and unpinning needles.

“Mn” he agrees, almost falling asleep already. “Good to be home.”

“It’s good to have you home” Wei Ying says, running his fingers through Lan Wangji’s freed hair and planting a kiss at the crown of his head. “Good to have you where I can take care of you.”

---

Lan Wangji returns home after some particularly exhausting Chief Cultivator duties. Luckily, Wei Ying takes care of him.

Just a lil tender love and pwp ! I think it’s nice for lwj to have a nice time with his husband who he’s very much in love with. Feels good on my heartstrings!

with intent by Lirazel (Wangxian, E, 10k)

Under other circumstances, it would make no sense for a healthy young cultivator’s golden core to be overwhelmed by mere cold, much less for qi infusions to be fruitless. But these caves and the tunnels that connect them are no ordinary place. This attack on Wei Ying--because that’s what it has to be--is intentional: this place, suffused with the presence of Lan Wangji’s ancestors, is attacking the presence of a stranger as automatically as a guard attacks a thief in the night.

The forehead ribbon isn’t enough.

After wangxian handfast in the cold pond cave to get past the Lan ancestors, lwj realizes that just tying their hands wasnt enough, they have to consummate their fake marriage :)

The dreamers. by orange_crushed (Wangxian, E, 17k) ***

“Stop mothering me,” Wei Ying protests. “Why don’t you ever listen?” He scowls at Wangji, but then the lure of the clean water is too much; he sits grumbling and strips off his vambraces and loosens the collar of his robes and wipes himself down in the steam. Wangji sits on a stool and watches him, and after a while Wei Ying slaps the rag into the bowl and glares back. “Are you going to sit and stare the whole time?” he demands. “You want to see me strip naked and give my filthy evil self a good scrubbing, huh?”

Yes, Wangji thinks.

[This is a story about a horrible war and a beautiful dream; about grabbing happiness where you can find it, and not letting go.]

An EXTREMELY interesting canon-divergence au where wangxian use a mindlinking spell early on in their relationship to fight better together but the connection between them is too strong and the spell doesn’t dissipate so they stay linked through the rest of canon. This one also had me gasping out loud on multiple occasions. 

2022 note: this has been a Frequently Revisited Fic over the past year and a half, it is just as shocking and intriguing every single time!

From my heart's ground. by orange_crushed (Wangxian, E, 38k)

After a while he can feel a palm against his face, gentle fingers soft and soothing. It’s not real, not exactly: he can tell the difference between a ghost’s touch and a living person’s, between a spirit-vision and an overactive imagination. His education has been thorough. But the beating has also been thorough, so for now he forgets what he knows and leans into it, into the hand cupping his cheek. It’s soft and dry as those forgotten petals, as the touch of a pillow. He can smell wildflowers, can taste blood and dirt. My baby, his mother says, and he closes his eyes. My treasure. He barely remembers the sound of her voice, but the feeling of it is just the same. Just the same as ever.

[In which Lan Wangji loses almost everything, plants a garden, and grows a second chance.]

Holy fucking shit, i just realized that this one and the last one are by the same person. Author orange_crush has an absolute GIFT for mind-boggling canon-divegence aus oh my GOD. This one is lwj post-wwx’s death discovering some of his mother’s old things in the jingyi and using them to extremely surprising results. I think about how crazy and brilliant this fic is literally all of the time. Insanity. I love it. 

bless my soul (i'm losing control) by aroceu (Wangxian, E, 31k) ***

Wei Wuxian returns from the Burial Mounds as a vampire.

WHAT IT SAYS ON THE TIN. A full canon-divergence au following vampire wwx post-burial mounds. I’ll give you one guess as to who offers to be his lil juice box :) Little known fact about me, i LOVE a good vampire au, and am frankly astounded that this is the first one i've come across for wangxian, but i’m not complaining bc this one fucking SLAPS. I’ve read it three times.

2022 update: i’ve read this WAY more than three times at this point

Brilliant Mistake by brooklinegirl (Wangxian, E, 53k) ***

"Fine," Wen Qing says, turning back to Wei Ying. "You're pregnant."

Lan Zhan feels his mouth drop open and has to work to shut it.

Wei Ying reacts not at all. He's swinging his feet where he's sitting on the table, a bored expression on his face.

Wen Qing just looks at him. "I am not joking about that."

Wei Ying stops swinging his feet. He blinks several times in a row. "Wait," he says.

Or:

I woke up at 3AM and sent myself an email that just said:

Modern cultivation friends curse sexy pollen hook up desperate WWX gets pregnant

And then I wrote it. In three weeks. IDK.

[deep shuddering inhale] MY NEW FAVORITE FIC, BITCH!!!!!!!! Remember back when i was like “omg so weird that i read a wangxian mpreg au, i’m never into mpreg aus.” and “omg so weird that i read a wangxian modern au, i’m almost never into modern aus” well when i’m wrong, i’m wrong. If brooklinegirl wants to write a modern cultivation mpreg curse fic then OF COURSE I WILL READ IT. What i didnt expect was for it to be so good that i read it FIVE (5) more times. But sometimes that’s just how life goes. If you’ll excuse me, i’m going to go read this again. 

2022 note: according to ao3 I’ve now read this FOURTEEN TIMES. So. If that’s not my gold stamp of approval on a fucking mpreg fic, idk what is. Life is full of surprises.

like the paradise found by occultings (Wangxian, E, 4k)

It isn’t often Lan Zhan finds herself at strip clubs.

If i’ve said it once, i’ve said it a million times: madame occultings can do no wrong in my eyes. A modern wlw!wangxian au where wwx is a stripper and lwj has a gift card. Let the congregation say amen.

a history of the body by northofallmusic (Wangxian, E, 14k)

Wei Ying's body hurts sometimes; she lets Lan Zhan help her.

A fic about the complicated nature of having a body, and also the versatility of sex toys.

A nice little wlw!wangxian modern au where they get together and have nice sex about it. Chicken soup for the soul.

A Sure Thing by mrsronweasley (Wangxian, E, 95k)

The message says, I require exclusive commitment as well as flexibility. You may spend the night, but not always. I will be the one to keep the schedule of our meetings.

Wei Ying crunches on a chip thoughtfully, then takes a deep breath and writes back, What do I get in return?

This was a trip and a half. A modern au (who am i) where lwj becomes wwx’s sugar daddy. Another instance of “if mrsronweasley (2022 note: who now goes by vesna??? how long have i been gone...) writes it, i will come.” Who am I to turn my nose up at 95k of excellent writing and delicious pining from the queen herself?

all I find is you by daltoneering (Wangxian, E, 10k)

There’s some cruel irony at work here, that the only inn for days would be off-limits to him. It has been months now that he’s been travelling, months since the last rays of sunlight brushed a Gusu mountaintop golden and he wrenched himself away and out into the world, months since he’s seen—well. What are months compared to years. What are years compared to a lifetime.

;

Wei Wuxian has been on the road for months, without a conscious end goal in sight. He isn’t expecting to find what he was looking for in a fully-booked-out inn in the back of beyond.

God is good but a 436th soft and tender post-canon get-together fic is better! This fic has it all: a chance meeting, a fully booked in, BED SHARING, lan wangji with braided hair, the works!

i'm the one for your fire by occultings (Wangxian, E, 43k) ***

Wei Ying, virgin and noted heterosexual, gets hit with a curse of an unusual nature on his 30th birthday — through physical contact, he can read the minds of others around him.

Enter Lan Zhan, hot former rival and current coworker, whose true thoughts about Wei Ying are nothing like he expects. (A loose Cherry Magic AU)

This is a modern au based off of a show that i think is japanese, but im not 100% sure, that’s about a curse where if youre a virgin when you turn 30 you can read people’s mind by touching them, which is an INFINITELY fun premise, so imagine my fucking delight when i realized this was written by MADAME OCCULTINGS!!!!!!!!!!!! CAN I GET A HELL YEAH!!! This fic is so fucking good, another one i've read multiple times already. I may have to formally rescind my statement that i don't read modern aus.

2022 update: this fic has become such a STAPLE to me that i was genuinely shocked to have found it on this unfinished fic rec. READ THIS SHIT!!!!!!! (Also I absolutely have to rescind my no-modern au stadnpoint. I do in fact love a good modern au now. People change!)

flux by SugarMilkTea (Wangxian, E, 60k)

When Wei Ying receives a strange figurine in a rural Gusu village, he thinks nothing of it. Ten months later, he finds himself walking a familiar path.

Ten months spent on the road. Ten months away from Lan Zhan. Ten months after they parted on that ridge in Gusu, Wei Ying comes home.

Another DOOZY of a post-canon-get-together-via-a-case fic. This time there are body swaps. There are ancient deities. There are strange old ladies. I read this feverishly in one sitting bc every single chapter i was like “wait WHAT.” Good good case fic antics.

2022 note: I went to link to the author’s ao3 and they have ORPHANED THIS FIC!!!!! the passage of time is cruel and ruthless.......

Pull out game weak by 74243 (Wangxian, E, 23k) ***

Wei Ying swipes right.

2022 note: i deleted my entire comment on this fic because it simply did not come close to expressing the cultural impact of ao3 user 74243. They showed up at the end of 2020. Wrote some of the filthiest lesbian wangcxian smut fics ive ever read. And then disappeared at the end of 2021. This fic in particular is my favorite of theirs, but honestly if you read it and are into it, i highly reccommend checking out all of their works. i..... [sweats]

Superfan by 74243 (Wangxian, E, 19k) ***

“I’m not going to apologize for my job,” Wei Ying said, “so if you want to give me some kind of lecture--”

“No,” Lan Zhan said. “You misunderstood. I am...” she paused, as if considering the best way to put it. “I’m a fan.”

Okay actually im also going to specifically throw this one on here bc its my other fave of theirs and ive read it...many times. This author kicked off what i can only refer to as a dyke lan zhan renaissance that has truly stood the test of time.

OKAY SO. There are the 26 fics that I had on my fic rec back in April 2021. INSANE. I was sitting on gold! Despite not keeping up with fic recs, i have actually read a fair amount of untamed fic over the time i’ve been gone, and especially in the last week, SO HERE THEY ARE! [OPRAH VOICE] YOU GET A FIC! YOU GET A FIC! YOU ALL GET FICS!!!!!!!!!!!!!

miss me once the thrill expires by idrilka (Wangxian, E, 12k)

“Lan Zhan, explain one thing to me,” Wei Ying says as they make their way through the woods. “What is it about people saying, don’t go into the abandoned, potentially evil shrine, that makes teenagers immediately go into the abandoned, potentially evil shrine?”

Wei Ying and Lan Zhan team up to investigate a curse. It doesn't go quite according to plan.

i HAVE to start with the fic that kicked off my untamed fic rennaissance! my favorite untamed author, madame idrilka, recently started posting all of her fics on tumblr with fun graphics and to my utter surprise 1. i was already following her and 2. SHE POSTED A FIC I HAD NEVER READ BEFORE!!! if there’s any proof that god is good all the time, its idrilka posting a modern cultivation get-together-via-a-curse au. *chefs kiss until my fingers fall off* i owe you my life!

Better When We're Together by emmagrant01 (Jingyi/Sizhui, E, 64k) ***

In a universe where Wei Wuxian did not leave the Burial Mounds after settling there with the Wens and managed to live peacefully ever after, Jingyi grows up in the Cloud Recesses alone. Then one day, Hanguang-jun takes him to meet an old friend, and the course of Jingyi’s life changes.

OKAY SO. One of my favorite fics of all time is this 285k behemoth of an omgcp fic that genuinely is one of my most well-written and amazing pieces of fiction that ive ever read. so IMAGINE MY SURPRISE when i went to check in on miss emmagrant01 and found that she’s WRITING UNTAMED FIC NOW!!!! GOD. IS. GOOD. ALL. THE. TIME. this fic yall.........i truly cant sing it’s praises enough. there is so so so much good shit here. sizhui being raised more fully by wwx, jingyi being raised by wwx, childhood friends to lovers, wen qing is there. it has the works. PROMISE ME YOU WILL READ THIS FIC AHHHHHH

good friends by plonk (Wangxian/Nie Mingjue, E, 11k)

“I could invite her over for when the game’s done,” Nie Mingjue offers.

Lan Zhan hums, considering it.

They do that sometimes. Take omegas down together.

now listen.........like i said. ao3 user 74243 kicked off a dyke lan zhan era in untamed fic. and my most controversial love-to-hate author plonk wrote this fic FOR ao3 user 74243. is it a modern au? yes. is it also a fucking abo au? yes. have i read it many times bc im gay and it’s hot? WE DONT NEED TO TALK ABOUT IT!!!!!!! read it or dont, im not your mother! gosh!

Wrong to Say by easilyexcited (Wangxian, E, 5k)

When Wei Wuxian starts talking about how small his own dick is, Lan Wangji is...confused.

i actually found this fic for an anon of Jen’s recently and remembered that i liked it! not to pretend this is anything other than smut, but there are some fairly interesting character study bits for a 5k fic about wwx’s degradation kink

A storm without a warning by Spodumene (Wangxian, E, 22k) ***

Wei Ying loves his life. He wouldn't change a thing.

Change is like a storm. It comes anyway.

UGH man. this fic. talk about fics that made my hands sweat and my stomach flip from the sheer levels of YEARNING AND LONGING. realizing right here right now that this rec will have the most modern aus of any of them. oh how the turntables!

My stranger in the dark by becka (Wangxian, E, 20k)

Wei Ying, bartender at the Unclean Realm nightclub, likes making small talk with mysterious and beautiful Lan Zhan when she comes to the bar. It's a little bit of shock to find out that her favorite customer is a vampire involved in a fight for the safety of the club.

ANOTHER modern au, but this time they’re lesbians and lwj is a vampire. the spice of life!

bend me back, send me flying by  occultings (Wangxian, E, 9k)

It takes longer than it usually would for Wei Wuxian to catch on; the waiter’s mortified, flushed face, the couple with their hands under each other’s robes. The unusual warmth in his belly he has thus far, this evening, chalked up to his feelings for Lan Wangji.

“Oh!” Wei Wuxian says when the realization strikes him. It hits him so strangely that he hears himself laugh, even though the situation isn’t funny. Maybe it will be, someday. But tonight, he — oh.

—

Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji get served the wrong pot of tea.

Newly married wangxian + aphrodisiac tea + madame occultings writing = *chefs kiss*

No Compasses, No Signs by brooklinegirl (Wangxian, E, 36k)

The old woman looks at Lan Zhan. "What's his name?"

Lan Zhan looks down at the man's pale, slack face, and presses his own hand against the cut, trying to staunch the blood flow with his glove. "Wei Ying," he says without thinking about it.

The man stirs slightly in his arms, his eyes blinking open for a moment. "Oh," he says faintly. "It's you."

Lan Zhan stares down at him, the stranger in his arms, whose name is Wei Ying. Which is something Lan Zhan knows. How does he know that? How does—he can't—this isn't—

"It's okay," Wei Ying says, reaching up to pat vaguely at Lan Zhan's face. "It's all—" His eyes slip closed again and he's limp in Lan Zhan's arms.

modern soulmate au that was VERY intersting and engaging! that’s love bitch!

sweet talker by vesna (Wangxian, E, 19k)

There's an unfamiliar middle blocker on the opposite team, one they've played a thousand times. "I've never seen her before." And Wei Ying is pretty sure she would have remembered her.

"That? I don't know her name, I think she's new to the team." Wen Qing assesses the woman. "I bet she's trouble. Look at how tall she is."

Well, yeah, she's a middle blocker. Wei Ying bets her height is what got her the position. She's tall and she's, like…super cool. Her dark hair is pulled up into a tiny pony at the crown, revealing an undercut underneath, and she's lean and muscular. She must notice Wei Ying's gaze on her because she shifts where she's looking and looks directly at Wei Ying. Wei Ying grins and waves, but the woman just skitters her gaze elsewhere, pursing her mouth. Hmph. Well. Rude.

When i said there was a modern au dyke lwj renaissance, i meant it! even vesna, aka fandom great mrsronweasley, jumped on the trend to AMAZING results. this made me sweat. when will dyke lwj dick ME down???

Let's Get Real, Baby by vesna (Wangxian, E, 22k)

If Wei Ying had been asked “what sort of pajamas does Lan Zhan wear to bed?” her answer might have been: something utilitarian, like shorts and a t-shirt. Or maybe a set of striped pajamas, like the kind grandpas wear. It would never, in a million years, have occurred to her to say “a slinky silky lacy cami and tiny shorts set,” but that is what she is currently staring—gaping—at as Lan Zhan makes her way from the bathroom to her side of the hotel room.

oh ho ho ANOTHER modern wlw wangxian au by the former mrsronweasley! not dyke lwj particularly, more girl boss powersuit lwj, but it still hits!

give me one good honest kiss by occultings (Wangxian, E, 16k)

The text keeps flashing over and over in Lan Zhan's head like the bulb lights on a marquee. They’d been talking about homework directly before that, swapping notes on music theory in the baroque period. Then, like a fork of lightning out of a clear blue sky: wanna practice kissing? 😚

—

Wei Ying suggests an arrangement. Lan Zhan, in love, deals.

i guess this is the modern wlw wangxian au rec????? the further back i get in my ao3 history the more i realize that the bulk of wangxian fic i’ve read in the last year and a half has been wlw shit. im not complaining!!!!! this one was great, STEEPED in gay pining! delicioso!

mercy, tear it down. by orange_crushed (Wangxian, E, 31k)

“You want me to call you good?” Wangji says. “To make you feel good?” Wei Ying makes a wretched, soft, surprised sound in the back of his throat. “Then will you be good?”

“Uh,” Wei Ying says. His lashes flick down again, nervously. “Good how?”

Wangji hasn’t quite thought that far ahead.

i really like this fic!!! wangxian fall into a bdsm relationship after wwx comes back Wrong from the burial mounds, then evolves into a pretty interesting canon divergence fic. ive reread this a couple times bc the tension is great and this author has such interesting ideas about canon divergent elements!

Love Don't Belong To Me by airinshaw (Wangxian, E, 29k) ***

Ten years ago Wei Ying was forced to disappear from his own life, changing his name and hiding from everyone he loved. Then on his birthday he runs into Nie Huaisang, who invites himself to Wei Ying's birthday party.

The clash of old and new lives freaks Wei Ying out, and he ends up drunkenly agreeing to call Lan Zhan to tell him that he was the love of his life.

But now that Lan Zhan has contact details for Wei Ying, he won't let it go.

WOWOWOWOWOWOWOW. THIS FIC. like the summary says this is a modern no-magic au where wwx disappears for 10 years to start a new life and then drunkenly hits lwj up one night. i cant emphasize how much every part of this fic was a punch to the gut, had me gasping, crying, screaming, throwing up, etc etc! ive reread this so many times bc its just SO emotional!!!! AH!

estuaries by vesna (Wangxian, E, 34k)

Wei Ying's back is to him, but Lan Zhan would know him anywhere. His hair is tied into a low ponytail, messy, as always. It's longer now than it was three years ago, snaking down his back, ending just above his shoulder blades. With him is a child—a boy—who's holding onto his hand and looking up at him with his eyebrows furrowed, one finger stuck in his mouth.

Lan Zhan feels utterly foolish peeking from behind a display case at them, but he's rooted to the spot. He cannot move.

another modern no-magic au! this one is pretty angsty but it has a happy ending and i love a kid fic so this one got me good!

got your way with me by vesna (Wangxian, E, 51k)

It doesn't hit Wei Ying until the third time it happens. In his defense, he's not running on all cylinders, and definitely only on four hours of sleep. So if all he's noticed about the guy sharing the elevator with him for the third time in two weeks is his hotness, who can really blame him?

But now that he's looking a bit more closely, as the guy stares resolutely at the number display ticking up, he sees the telltale signs: slightly rumpled collar on an otherwise pristine outfit, bags under his eyes—not so noticeable that they are instantly apparent, but there if you look closely enough—kiss-bitten lips, and (the most damning evidence of all) a hickey blooming just under his ear.

This guy is coming back from a hookup of his own.

we’re in modern no-magic au mode okay, but this time its a fwb au! LETS GOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!

I Wish You Would by brooklinegirl (Wangxian, E, 52k)

Lan Zhan takes a breath. His hands are in fists on his thighs. He stares down at them hopelessly, then carefully unclenches them, one finger at a time, before taking another breath and reaching for his lukewarm tea. He'll go out, tomorrow. Maybe in the late afternoon. Something quick. Something easy. He'll text his brother first, the short note of when he should be home, so he'll know to track him. He'll be fine, just like he said.

i think this might be the last of the modern no-magic aus i have for this part! in this one wwx finds out that his long term boy best friend lwj FUCKS and it sends him into a late in life gay sprial. love it!

Not What We May Be by brooklinegirl (Wangxian, E, 30k) ***

It's Lan Zhan, standing tall, his hand gripping his sword. Has his hairpiece gotten even more elaborate? Or has Wei Wuxian just forgotten how stately it is? He's at the forefront of the group of Lan cultivators and if the pulsing darkness pushes Wei Wuxian's eyes away, then Lan Zhan draws them like there's nothing else worthy of looking at.

Wei Wuxian shakes his head at himself. He's been on the road too long. He's thinking in lines of poetry.

back to my origins, this is a really really really good case fic. another one where the case plot is intriguing and engaging and the wangxian plot is VERY sweet and romantic and satisfying. as far as case fics go this gets a 10/10 gold star!

Give Me a Chance to Fall by brooklinegirl (Wangxian, E, 38k)

Jiang Cheng just blows his breath out and rolls his eyes right back at Wei Wuxian. "Stop being an asshole," he says. "You're lucky this is being set up for you. Do you know how many people would die--literally die--to get the chance to be betrothed to Lan Wangji?"

"Betrothed." Wei Wuxian rolls the word around in his mouth. "It even sounds stupid."

Or, an arranged marriage canon-divergent fic where the war doesn't happen, the golden core loss doesn't happen, but Jiang Fengmian and Madame Yu still die, Jiang Cheng is the sect leader, and Lan Wangji is still called Hanguang-jun because, well, look at him.

okay i already KNEW brooklinegirl is a powerhouse in the fandom and has written many of my favorite untamed fics but i just realized the last two fics and a couple other in this rec were ALSO by her, CMON QUEEEEEEN! love that she can write diverse many different types of stories and they’re all so interesting and emotional and engaging. this is my little love letter to a03 author brooklinegirl. ANYWAYS this fic is a no-war wangxian betrothal au that made me blush multiple times because it was SO sweet and romantic and i had an absolute blast reading this. I’LL STOP DESCRIBING BROOKLINEGIRL FICS AS SWEET AND ROMANTIC WHEN THEY STOP BEING SO FUCKING SWEET AND ROMANTICCCCCCC!!!!!!!!!!!

a light hidden and singing by  occultings (Wangxian, E, 48k)

Since he was a child, since Lan Wangji had first become aware of his own alienating effect on others, he has long resigned himself to a loveless marriage. Perhaps even a companionate one, so long as his partner was agreeable and unbothersome and let him have his own space.

He could not have even begun to predict Wei Wuxian.

(A canonverse arranged marriage fic.)

OKAY! We’re ending it on ANOTHER betrothal au by the amazing madame occultings. this was really so good, the flirting, the uncertainty, the pining, all very well written, in-line with canon, and just all around enjoyable to read! saturated in longing without making me want to bash wangxian’s head together, which is a feat in itself! madame occultings can do no wrong!

THERE YOU HAVE IT. AFTER A YEAR AND A HALF. I PRESENT TO YOU: 1.3 million words across exactly 45 fics. Even though i dont have the time to hyperfixate on the untamed anymore, it has continued to be something i enjoy reading and revisiting when i can. even to this day, there is an embarassment of riches when it comes to the untamed fandom whether thats fic writers, fan artists, or gif editors. i am so thankful to the untamed for getting me through lockdown, keeping me busy while i was unemployed, teaching me so many new things, and letting me make so many new friends. i cant say for certain this will be my last fic rec ever, but it’ll definitely be my last for a while. thank you for reading! i love you!

#the untamed #fic rec #the untamed fic rec #[paul rudd voice] look at us. who would've thought. #i literally cant believe its november 2022 and im publishing a long ass fic rec on thanksgiving day #stranger fucking things i guess!!!!!!!! #anyways i really do love the untamed and i love my friends and i love wangxian and i love all the talented incredible amazing fic writers #i hope kim and hannah and jen in particular enjoy this #yes im 4 beers deep but im also full of love you stupid son of a bitch

[priestfrommidnightmass]

sometimes writing abt an actor/character you know really well is difficult because it can be so difficult to write their facial expressions. sometimes i wish i had a collection of every single expression i’m referencing and that i could attach it to each sentence like footnotes

#this is abt griffin gluck specifically #finally continuing my fic of what i imagine happened with sam and peter after av #and it’s So. Hard to write him oh my god #because i know his face too fucking well i know every microexpression he does #but it’s so hard to translate. like i so desperately wish i could just say Expression2 #it would make my life so much easier. #like that’s literally that one face he does #i’ve written abt his characters many times and everytime i forget how difficult it is. like bitch that’s . that one face he does. #like you KNOW THE ONE! UGH! #there’s one fic in particular where i desperately needed this it was so Hard

[tciddaemina]

sort of hate people who leave negative stuff in the bookmarks of a fic tbh. like sure yeah you have no obligation to write anything, but if you are going to write something why the fuck would you make it a bland as list of all the things you disliked about the work

like bro, you could just keep it in your head. say it out loud even. write it on a post it note if you must. but like damn why the fuck would you ever write a laundry of your shitty little peeves somewhere that the author is able to see it. authors can and do browse peoples comments in the bookmarks of their works bc people sometimes leave really touching heartwarming stuff there

just like. jesus fuck. if you have nothing nice to say then youre honestly free to shut the fuck up and move on

#short #oh i suppose it was maybe alright #just fucking salty bc some asshole was like #*sips wine snootily* oh i suppose ot was fine but certainly nothing mindblowing of course #*squints at 110k of pure acts of service and glowing devotion* i see no romance here but maybe later #hmm i feel no connectoon between the characters at their first meeting i suppose the author cannot match canon #can you guess which fic im talking about? #bro why the fuck would you write this and leave it out there for me to see #also like fuck you a lot do you know how much fucking time goes into writing? #100k+ is not #bitch people call a 50k fic long #i just #urg #can you block people on ao3? #i literally just never want this person to be able to read one of my fics again #of if they do not be able to comment or write anything in their fucking bookmarks #like man i dont expect every person who reads a story to like it or to fall over themselves with compliments #but insulting a fic in a smarmy backhanded way of is just shitty #fuck that guy in particular #or girl #fuck them #no more fic for you #note in a box

[clockworkflicker]

[tap or open image in new tab for higher quality]

In Sickness and In Spite

3.5k words, F cold. Familiarity with the source material is not required.

Fi/re Emb/lem Thr/ee Ho/pes — platonic Hubert & Monica. Snzfic + character study. These idiot rivals begrudgingly care about each other, your honor! Cue mlm-wlw bickering. Inspired by this post about ice magic. We love a sniffly traumatized mage.

Content warnings for wartime medieval fantasy setting, referenced past imprisonment, and mess.

“Return to the eastern encampment at once, and see to it that our reserves are told to prepare for the capture of Arianrhod.”

The faintest of smiles threatens to tug at Hubert’s lips as he hands a letter off to the courier standing at attention in his quarters. His expression, which the courier might later describe as “reeking of malicious contentedness” is one that Hubert’s fellow commanders are slowly growing used to as this war drags on, but it still sends a chill down the spines of those less familiar with the man’s more dubious qualities.

“Count Bergliez is to bring his troops to Arianrhod to hold the city in our absence, do I make myself clear?”

The man’s voice is smooth as dark chocolate, and equally rich, the courier finds himself thinking as he accepts the letter from Hubert. Of course, now is no time to indulge in chocolate, nor thoughts of admiration of a man’s voice. How foolish.

“I’ll see it done.”

Hubert folds his arms and gives a subtle nod. “Good. Well then, safe travels.”

The courier leaves, and Hubert finds himself once again alone in his quarters. He considers stepping out to check in with Lady Edelgard and discuss upcoming battle plans, but he thinks better of it once he pulls the drape from the entrance to his tent and sees that the sun has already set. They’ll be marching again early in the morning, and Her Majesty is likely to be asleep (or attempting to sleep, at least) by this hour.

He lights the lantern at his desk and sets a kettle to boil for coffee. His body feels heavy after the day’s skirmish at Magdred Way, but his mind isn’t quite ready to sleep. His troops encountered those damn Agarthan mages looming between the trees at Magdred. Evidence of their continued presence in this war, pulling the strings from behind the curtains, is enough to keep him up at night — not that he’d ever admit to such a thing. Given that he’s not sleeping just yet, there’s no sense in squandering an opportunity to get some work done, so he settles down with a stack of paperwork and quill.

Outside, a chorus of crickets come alive for the night, cautiously chirping along with the smoky early-autumn breeze and the occasional chatter from other commanders and soldiers passing by. After some time, the sound of a harsh sneeze pierces the white noise. Hubert casts a slow glance to his tent’s entrance. It sounded close by, but no one’s immediately outside the tent. He sets the distraction aside and returns to the list of provisions he was perusing.

But he can’t help but notice that the crickets’ song is punctuated by the occasional sniffle. Is that new, or has he only just noticed it now, he wonders. After a few minutes, there’s another sneeze, this one more high pitched than the last, followed by a slow, laden groan. It’s a familiar groan, he realizes. He knows exactly who it belongs to.

Unlike Monica von Ochs, Hubert does not possess a perfect memory. But given the frequency with which the woman expresses irritation around him, he would be remiss not to recognize the sound of her grumbling.

Her tent isn’t far from his. “I’m Her Majesty’s vassal just as much as you are,” Monica had insisted when they’d been setting up their base camp last week. “If she has need of me, I wish to be prepared and nearby.”

While Hubert finds her near-constant presence and general lack of composure to be somewhat grating, he certainly cannot complain about the woman’s dedication. Monica is, above all else, a valuable asset to the army and confidant to Her Majesty.

The kettle boils. He sets his quill aside and finds the coffee grounds he’d packed in his satchel. His eyes fall on the Almyran pine tea blend he keeps handy next to his stash of coffee grounds — a provision should he find a spare moment to enjoy a warm beverage with Ferdinand.

Hubert briefly regards the pine needles. Certainly not the ideal tea for a cold, and he can’t imagine his neighbor would particularly want his company. And yet...

~~~

There’s ice in her veins and haze clouding her head, and that’s really all there is to say on the matter. She sits at her desk, bundled up in her cloak with a quill and stack of paperwork. The flickering light from her lantern blurs her vision, eyes half-lidded and threatening to grow too rheumy to make out the words.

Not that it matters much. The chill gnawing at her bones from the inside out is enough of a distraction on its own that Monica finds herself wholly unable to make a dent in the status report she’s meant to have on Her Majesty’s desk by tomorrow morning.

She sniffles in irritation. She’d managed to doze off immediately after returning from Magdred this afternoon, but sleep held little respite. After a few hours of tossing and turning, she’d gasped awake, shivering with ire and cold sweat, unpleasant memories distorted by the whims of her feverish subconscious still vivid in her mind. With some effort, Monica had forced herself upright, shakily grasping the glass of water beside her bed and taking a drink.

She’s never forgotten what it’s like to be locked up in a cell — how could she? They say time heals all wounds, but such a thing can’t be true; not for her. While the sands of time are kind enough to erode others’ painful memories, weathering away sharp edges into manageable curves, Monica needs only close her eyes to find herself back on that cold stone floor, every detail in place, nothing forgotten. Exactly 296 stone blocks comprised the wall she had been chained to. That horrible woman’s raucous laugh, which always hit G#, no higher, no lower. The gleam of her athame, teasingly pressed below Monica’s jaw with just enough force to draw a thin line of fresh blood. The warm ferrous odor intermingling with the cool musk of the dungeon and that woman’s near-intoxicating scent of patchouli, sage, and mahogany.

And knowing Her Majesty was put through something so much worse; held in a cell and poked, prodded, sliced open, then reassembled as a tool of war? It makes her blood boil.

Her head had swam from sitting up so fast; a reminder that this Goddess-forsaken fever is going to literally boil her blood if she’s not careful.

Against her better judgement, she’d lit her lantern and dragged herself to her desk to take care of some paperwork. As much as she’d love to drift back off to sleep, the thought of going back there — even if only in a dream — is more than enough to keep her wide awake for a few more hours. Normally, she’d go out for a run or a swim to clear her head and simmer down, but she frankly can’t imagine her body will comply today.

Pinching her nose with a handkerchief that has long outlived its usefulness, Monica distantly wonders what would’ve become of her in that cold dark cell, had Her Majesty not come to her aid. She’d be dead, probably. It’s a useless thought, but one that plagues her nonetheless. Her nose is no less damp when she pulls the cloth away, so she sniffles again and resigns to just cleaning herself up with the inner collar of her cloak, soft fabric feeling like sandpaper against her nostrils.

“Monica?” A low voice from outside her tent startles her back to reality. “It’s Hubert. I have a matter I’d like to discuss, if you wouldn’t mind my company at this hour.”

She hesitates. Company is the last thing she wants right now. Well, perhaps she wouldn’t mind if it was Lady Edelgard or Dorothea...

“I’ll leave you be if you’d prefer it,” Hubert continues when she doesn’t reply. “But I thought it prudent to offer some tea.”

Still no response. Hubert briefly wonders if she’s managed to fall asleep. But then a small sniffle breaks the silence, followed by the sound of shuffling blankets. Monica draws aside the thick cloth draped over her tent’s entrance, eyes tilted up to meet his. Her brow is knit in confusion, but her gaze is glassy and distant. By the look of things, it was indeed the prospect of tea that coaxed her out.

She finds Hubert stood before her, holding two cups, warm steam gently rising from both. Monica doesn’t need her sense of smell to know their contents. One black coffee — a preposterous choice of beverage at this hour — and one Almyran pine tea. It’s almost a comedic image, the way the man's usual looming presence is kneecapped by something as mundane as a warm drink.

“You keep Almyran pine needles on your person specifically for Ferdinand,” she says plainly, her voice hoarse around the edges. “Why offer them to me?”

A slight frown draws Hubert’s lips. This woman is irritatingly perceptive and straightforward, especially when it comes to relationships he would prefer she kept quiet about.

But even in the low light, he can see the exhaustion plainly written across Monica’s face; dark thumbprints pressed beneath her eyes, a glimmer of moisture sits below her pinkish nose, her pallor framed by a mess of untamed burgundy locks. Judging by the paperwork strewn about on her desk, he figures she’s been just as busy as he’s been this evening. It’s not all that cold out, but her slight frame is swallowed up in a heavy winter cloak. Despite this, she looks to be shivering a little, and Hubert makes a mental note to check later if any of her reports from this excursion will need to be rewritten due to shaky handwriting.

While Monica is objectively the shortest commander in the Adrestian army, her shrewd demeanor and prowess on the battlefield are more than enough to compensate for what she lacks in height. But for the first time in years, Hubert finds himself thinking that she just looks small.

“You’re ill,” he says, matching her matter-of-fact tone.

“Yes, and?” Her eyes narrow, unfocused, and she inhales an uneven breath, then another. She ducks to the side with a horribly gruff sneeze, snatching the collar of her cloak up to meet her face as she shudders forward with the force of it. “ihh- hheh-! hHT’CHHUHshh!”

“And tea serves the dual purpose of perhaps offering some relief while also coaxing you away from your paperwork.” Hubert gives a small sigh, still looking stoic. “I should admonish you for working late in such a state.”

She scoffs, the watery phlegm crackling in her airways making her sound far more pitiful than disdainful, much to her chagrin. Wincing, she snuffles and rubs at her nose through the fabric. When she clears her throat, it does absolutely nothing for her wrecked voice. “As if you’re not guilty of the same.”

“Unlike you, I possess the sense not to work myself sick.”

“If you say so.” Knowing the man’s work-life balance (or lack thereof), Monica finds that statement highly unlikely. If she weren't so sick, she’d call him out for it, but she can’t quite muster the energy to get worked up over it at the moment. Another chill shakes through her, and it occurs to her that she’d much rather be sitting than standing, and a warm drink really does sound nice. She swallows thickly and glances away. “Anyway, I, um, I won’t say no to tea. If you’re offering.”

“That is why I’m here, yes,” Hubert says with a hint of levity, handing her a cup.

She gratefully accepts it, the deliciously warm ceramic prickling her cold fingertips. The rising steam causes her nose to run a bit more than it already was, but she revels in its gentle heat. “You said there was something you wanted to —” she pauses to sniffle, and exhales a tired, drippy guhh. “— to discuss?”

~~~

The two sit beside a small fire, tucked away at the edge of the base camp. On any other day, Monica would have simply invited Hubert to join her in her quarters, but she can’t imagine she’d be able to keep this damn cold to herself in such a small enclosed space, so this will have to do.

“Were you unwell when we marched on Magdred this morning?” He asks, settling down on a fallen log once he’s convinced he’s fed the fire enough wood to sustain itself. The flames dance, bathing them both in a warm glow amidst the dusky woods.

She shakes her head. “What, would you expect me to delay our troops because of a sore throat? I simply did what was necessary.” Monica takes a careful sip of her tea. Swallowing hurts, but it warms her from the inside out. Although her senses are too dulled to get a good handle on the flavor, she finds the tea has a distinct, earthy quality. It reminds her of simpler days spent hunting in the mountainous woodlands scattered about inland Ochs territory.

“And last night?” Hubert raises an eyebrow.

“I thought it was just exhaustion and nerves, at that point. We’d been marching all day, after all.” Smoke from the fire makes her sinuses burn, prompting her to retreat further into her cloak with a watery sniff, almost like a turtle into its shell.  

“For someone so perceptive, you certainly posses an impressive lack of self-awareness.” He tilts his head with a slight smirk. “Perhaps if you didn’t so frequently find yourself flush with rage or affection, you wouldn’t struggle to tell apart fatigue from fever.”

She glowers. “Perhaps if you grew flush with rage every now and again, you wouldn’t have the complexion of a coffin-dweller.” Smoke catches in her throat as she speaks, completely stripping the insult of any teeth it may have had otherwise. She muffles a few weary coughs against her collar, causing a bit of mess to spill from her nose and create another dark patch on the fabric.

Hubert exhales a dry laugh. In spite of everything, it’s good to see that she’s at least well enough to quip back. “Well, there’s nothing to be done for it now. But do try to be more conscientious of your limits.”  

Monica narrows her eyes with a sniff. “I know very well how hard I can push myself, thank you.” As if to deny her claim, the irritation in her airways causes her breath to hitch. Her eyes squint shut and her face contorts into an expression somewhere between a grimace and a snarl. She snaps forward with a desperate and distressingly sick-sounding sneeze, frantically aimed at the fabric resting atop her shoulders. She’d meant to stifle, but there’s only so much one can do when attempting to restrain such a forceful sneeze hands-free. She fumbles her cup of tea, spilling a bit in the process.

“And yet I can’t help but find your form as of late to be rather... rash.” Hubert turns his eyes back to the fire, not wishing for his gaze to be a source of further embarrassment for his stricken companion.

The gesture does not go unnoticed, and she’s grateful for it. The space between her nose and lips is slick, and a string of glistening mess dangles precariously from her septum to her cloak before falling against her chest. She instinctively snuffles, and immediately regrets doing so, as it produces a horribly soupy sound and reignites the burning itch. She hastily sets her tea aside and clutches at her collar with steepled hands, trembling with a flurry of quick, audibly damp breaths, until —

“ihheH- hH’KSSCH’ue! …hh? …hht’KSSCH’uhh!”

The second sneeze rends her throat, leaving her airways and collar absolutely drenched. With a small, exhausted groan, she allows herself just a brief moment of feeling sorry for herself before tending to her nose. She’s soaked through the fabric in her hands, and finds herself wondering if she needs to worry about running out of cloak. After finding a suitably dry spot, Monica draws a handful of cloak to her face and begins cleaning herself up. The stinging sensation of dry fabric against slick, inflamed skin makes her wince. “How so?”

“Lady Edelgard tells me you’ve had quite the talent for fire magic since you were young, and I must agree. The army would be remiss without a skilled mage such as yourself to set enemy strongholds ablaze.”

If she were alone, Monica would have blown her nose by now, but the thought of doing so in front of someone else makes her stomach twist in a knot. Clearly, if his unprompted arrival at her tent with tea is anything to go by, she's assaulted Hubert (and the rest of the camp, for that matter) with far too great a volume of sick noises as is. Goddess, she hopes Her Majesty hasn't overheard any of this. Monica settles for gently pinching her nose between the slick fabric, which does, blessedly, remove a decent amount of moisture. She gives a tired sigh, cautiously reaching down to retrieve her tea, almost afraid another sneeze will cause her drop it without warning. “What’re you getting at?”

Hubert gestures to the jet black tome strapped to her hip. “You’ve been teaching yourself ice spells recently. Why?”

“What kind of question is that?” She crinkles her nose. “Sometimes it’s more beneficial to freeze an enemy in place than set them on fire. Anyone can benefit from being more versatile.”

“Is versatility truly your reason, though? The elemental whiplash you must be giving yourself can’t be healthy.” Hubert gives her a knowing look as he raises his coffee to his lips.

Monica stares at him, then looks down at her tea. Assailing an enemy with flames, followed up by an ice spell, is going to inflict more pain than fire alone. That’s her reason. It’s that simple.

“We’ve recently been fighting more of the people who imprisoned Her Majesty and me. The dark mages at Magdred, for example. I...” she pauses with a sharp sniffle, frustrated with this cold, frustrated with Hubert for prompting her to confront one of her more wicked impulses at a time like this, frustrated with herself for being such a deeply bitter person. “I want it to hurt.”

Hubert remains silent and his expression unreadable, much to Monica’s annoyance. She presumes that his lack of reaction means she’s just confirmed something he was already aware of. Goddess, she hates how he seems to know her vices better than she knows them herself.

Finally, he speaks. “I understand.” His voice is low and surprisingly sincere. “Not a day goes by that I don’t lament my failure to protect Her Majesty when it mattered most.”

‘I understand’ is a bit of an unspoken compromise between two people who will never truly see eye to eye. Their ire for Edelgard’s captors is not equivalent, and they both know it. Hubert is cold and calculating, more than able to channel his emotions into neat, underhanded tactics that will serve Her Majesty well. But for Monica, it’s a spiteful, burning hatred that hungers for vengeance. It’s selfish and cruel and everything she wishes she wasn’t.

Hubert continues. “But, for Lady Edelgard’s sake, if not your own, I ask that you don’t do this to yourself. Even the most skilled mages aren’t equipped to deal with recoil from opposing elements. I suspect you’re intimately aware of this fact.”

He’s not wrong, Monica must admit. Ice magic has a way of chilling its caster to the bone, and alternating between fire and ice always leaves her a sniffly mess. It’s caused easily-ignored colds to turn debilitating more times than she’d care to let on. She doesn’t know what to say. She hadn’t expected anyone, let alone Hubert, of all people, to care.

Before she can fully sort out her thoughts, a familiar burning sensation bristles at her sinuses. Her mouth hangs slightly open in uncertainty, brow furrowed, and a small, wavering breath sifts through her teeth. Monica teeters on the precipice for just a moment. Watery mucus drips down one flared nostril, then the other, pooling above her lip. She dares not sniffle, or else —

“ihhh-? hehh- hED’SSHuuh!”

She ducks to the side and clings desperately to her teacup as a half-stifled shivery sneeze seizes her, sending another unfortunate deluge of soupy mess down her face. Goddess, she’s tired. “snndffl. ghuhh. You could say that.”

Once again, she sets aside her tea and takes to tending to her nose. “Look, Hubert, I appreciate the concernd, but I...” she trails off with a congested groan and shakes her head. “I don’t know.”

“Far be it from me to lecture you,” Hubert says, standing from his seat on the log and turning to leave, “but destroying yourself won’t change the past.”

“Where are you going?” Monica looks up at him, confused.

“To fetch my kettle. You’re still shaking, and have just about spilled the last of the tea.”

Pulling her cloak a little tighter around herself, she watches him walk back to his tent. She thinks that perhaps, just this once, he might have a point.

#y'alllllll it's finally FINALLY done!!!!!! #i've been working on this since late july and it went through like three rewrites so I Am Thrilled To Be Done. happy sicktember! #monnie is one of the worst written characters ive ever seen in a video game #she had so much potential to be interesting and the breadcrumbs are certainly there but GOD #the writers hecked the fuck up #thankfully i know how to write her Correctly #the devs just straight up handed us a canon lesbian and said #'she's horribly traumatized and has a ton of ugly emotions simmering below the surface but we're not going to address any of that' #anyway i had a great time writing about these two. monica is just So Much and hubert is hubert [affectionate] #also this has almost nothing to do with this particular fic but you can't tell me that monica doesnt fuck a sneeze okay #the sky is blue. capitalism sucks. mon/ica von o/chs is a sneezefucker. these are immutable truths #the fact that she canonically has a running tally of how many times edel/gard has expressed concern for her health is proof enough #(i looked it up. the tally is at 208 at the time of the cutscene she mentions it) #this woman is unhinged we love to see it #i'd also point to her love for tea (and making tea for edel/gard) if it weren't for the fact that 90% of the cast loves tea #'oh lady edelgard! it's chilly out! would you like some tea? a coat?' girl. honey. i know what you are. #th/ree hou/ses and th/ree ho/pes are such funny games. these bitches really do just swing swords and drink tea all day long #my art #my writing #btw this isn't beta'd so if you see a typo or something that makes no sense please PLEASE tell me

[kayzero]

FELLAS

you ever have such a bad body day that you can’t even READ FANFIC?!

this sucks.

#kay personal #i was in an infusion suite yesterday for pain treatment #and the meds they put me on always Fuck Me Up (emotionally) #and then i woke up today and my fucking leg Hurts #i can’t put Any weight on that bitch #i can’t focus on anything at all #i just want to read zero escape fics #i hear that two stories in particular just dropped this week that i’d enjoy greatly #but nooooooo #fucking sickle cell #fucking bone degradation

[purrincess-chat]

You know a good thing about Ladrien being underrated is that the chances of you finding a bastardized version of the canon character is rarer than if you picked any other side of the lovesquare.

Yeah sure, Adrienette, Ladynoir and Marichat is awesome. But too many fics turn them into these ooc bastards like Adrichat is now an alphahole and Maribug is a weak, pathetic and insecure girl. Ladrien however? These two are the least easiest to turn into the stereotypes which means that most of the Ladrien fics will have proper characterization.

Yeah, that's an issue with any big ship though, people project their own ideas onto it or self insert and play out their fantasies, which like, y'all do y'all. But idk it's why I don't read very much in the fandom, or in any fandom for that matter. (That and my #adhd~) I'm particular about a lot of things, and hot take, but many popular fanfics (just in general, not just ML) aren't written well imo. And that's not directed at any one person, so don't go looking for shit 🙄 There are good fan writers out there, don't get me wrong, but very few "popular" fanworks really grab me. (Especially that one bitch that wrote that story where Marinette transfers schools and meets new friends that got way too popular for some reason) The same can be said in real life too though. The things that are the best quality aren't always the most popular. Idk taste is subjective I guess.

Idk where I'm going with this ramble, my brain is fried from staring at my resume all morning and trying to figure out how the fuck to sell myself to a panel of smart people, but anyway, yeah there are a lot of bad LS stories out there. That's why I prefer to write my own, or only read very trusted friends. 😅 I'm writing an MC story right now, but I'm being hella particular about it so I dont even think actual MC stans will like it, which like good, this one is for the Ladrien stans that want to like MC but their fanfics are just consistently bad and ooc. I think a lot of people just don't understand the show and characters, which also contributes to the problem, but in my experience Ladrien stans are some of the only ones that really get it. 💅

#cat replies #asks #cat salts #but seriously tho fuck that one bitch in particular #that fic had no business being that popular

[jynjackets]

boo fucking hoo to anyone whining how unpopular their fave is. because literally what is this learned helplessness to try to force people to like your shit?

the way these complaints always come from a place that for once they don’t get to be the norm. their whole world is so shattered that the only thing they can do is complain instead of actually being passionate about something.

how selfish and self-centered can you be to try guilt-trip people into making art for shit nobody cares about out when you won’t even do it yourself

#icymi queerness was also super unpopular at a time #do you think lesbians whined and cried about it to the cis straights? #it’s always the fucking hateshippers #i’m not even talking about the low hits on a fic #like that’s always understandable and disheartening #i’m taking about UNWRITTEN fics and people fucking complaining 💀💀💀 #bitch maybe YOU write a fic? #‘why does no one care about x 😫’ #well hon maybe because it sucks as do you and the rest of your fandom? #my fandom of 3 people and my imaginary friends are thriving #yall wanna pretend to be communists and you literally can’t even handle online fandoms not living in contest #this is full front attack on cishet shippers #that nasty one in particular made of the most untalented tradwives on earth #make that multiple ships because i fucking hate yall #random thoughts

[yorsgirl]

Fuck you . Gladly

Ryomen Sukuna x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: The embers of your jealousy is fanned when girls forget that your boyfriend is not available. The only problem – silent treatment is your go-to reaction. Good for Sukuna, he knows how to make you talk.

Tropes: Established relationship, smut

Warnings: Explicit smut, fingering, fellatio, spanking, degradation+praise, choking, rough/angry sex, unprotected sex, orgasm denial, multiple orgasms(female), mentions of smoking and cheating, no curse AU, college boy!Sukuna, kinda toxic relationship, strong language, usage of nicknames, no mentions of y/n.

Word count - 3.8k

A/N: nope, sorry, this isn't the Sukuna fic whose sneak peek was posted a few days ago. That's a long one so it's taking time, instead I am feeding you this. Enjoy :)

Divider credits - @cafekitsune

<Next>

Jealousy is a ugly thing.

From childhood, you were taught to always be poised and content with whatever you have. Limited resources, not the best outfit or not your desired commodities. Accepting and being satisfied with it was the norm.

Your mother said the same, "Jealousy is a ugly thing." When you admitted to be jealous over a certain classmate whose grades were higher than yours. I saw her cheating in the exam hall, words were on the tip of your lips but you resorted to keep the dirty secret to yourself.

Heard the same from your friend, "No need to be jealous, its the worst of emotions." When you fumed over how you can't go to a particular excursion (blame your strict parents) while she gets to go.

Jealousy is a ugly thing. Be content with whatever you have, even if it's not the best.

Oh- but fuck off to that age old quote that was thrown down your ears.

You get it. You really do, be glad with whatever you have and shit! And you are. You really are. But how could jealousy not play when others try to put their filthy hands on what is rightfully yours?

In this case, your boyfriend – Ryomen Sukuna.

You aren't particularly insecure about your relationship with him. Contray, you do trust him a whole lot and his mannerisms to the opposite gender doesn't defy your view of him. However, problems arise when a dumb bitch forgets that your boyfriend is not out in the market for her to rub herself.

Take yesterday for example – it wasn't long after Sukuna's practice match while you watched him from the bleachers. Silently, gushing to yourself of how gorgeous your boyfriend looked with the sweat dripping down his hair and forehead, the perspiration glistening on his skin and over his well sculpted abs when he pulled his jersey up to wipe his face, once his eyes landed on you– fuck it! He does that on purpose. More clear with the stupid grin he had when he noticed you, checking him out. You swear, you hate him the most.

Ah– sorry, that went off topic... so where it was? Oh yeah!

Not long after his practice match did you watch that bitch Yorozu, literally jump out of the bleachers and run into his arms like she is his damn girlfriend. (She isn't). While you quietly, revelled over the fact when Sukuna without a bit of damn respect shoved her away, you couldn't shake out the fangs of malice growing inside you.

That brings you here, leaning back on the headboard of your bed with your phone clasped firmly in your hand, you scrolled through instagram. A rather pathetic attempt at ignoring Sukuna, who tried to strike up a conversation with you but you remained nonchalant.

"How long will you keep up that attitude?" Sukuna questions, leaning on the wall to your shared bedroom, a bored expression laces his features.

You don't answer, you don't even make the effort to look at him. It was perhaps, good time to just break your resolve for you've been giving him the cold shoulder since yesterday. Honestly, you don't even know why he's on the receiving end of your wrath. Sure, you are mad, but you are more mad over that wretched bitch than your boyfriend. But as you share no relation with her, its him who's suffering.

"Jesus Christ," Sukuna murmurs to himself, rolling his eyes as he steps up and sits in front of you.

He calls your name. You don't answer. He calls it again–his tone harsher. Your response is silence.

The next thing you know, your phone is harshly snatched away from your grip.

"What the fuck?!" You curse aloud, fire burning in your irises as you glare at him. "What the hell do you think you are doing?"

He scoffs, "So now you talk."

You try to reach for your phone but his counter is putting it away with a hand extended out. "Give that back."

"No."

"Yes."

He grips your right wrist in a tight hold, not enough to hurt you, just to keep you in place.

"What the fuck do you want?" You ask, the attempt at pulling your hand away proves futile when he tightens his hold.

"For you to stop acting like a brat."

"Acting like a brat?" You could only scowl. "I was silent the whole time. Is breathing illegal for you, now?"

His carmine irises blaze with annoyance as he retorts back, "You know damn well, I am not talking about that."

"I don't." You had always been bad at lying.

"Fuck yeah, you do."

You don't respond to that, trying to reach for your phone which he is doing a damn good job at keeping away. "Sukuna," Warning drips from your lowered tone, "I am not in the mood. Give my phone back, now."

"Yeah?" A humourless chuckle leaves his lips, "You're not getting it tonight, deal with it." You grit your teeth, trying to keep in the bubbling anger which would flow out any second but sure the God's hate you cause Sukuna's next words crumbles every bit of your self-control.

"Besides... why do you need it anyway? What?" He raised an eyebrow. "Texting some bastard while you I am in your no communication zone."

That's it. The fucking audacity.

Cheating. Something you can never speak or joke about, and he knows it still the God damn audacity to spit shit in front of you as if you're the one whose locker would be filled with love notes on valentine's day.

"You fucking asshole," You stand up, pulling your wrist away from his grip. Rage pours tumbles out of the dam, pouring through your every vein, every bone, every pore. "You have the fucking audacity to accuse me of cheating when you're the one smooching of other girls."

There's bad move. Then there's the worst fucking move of all.

This was the latter.

Sukuna rose up instantly, his gift of height gave him the upper hand to easily glare down at you. "The hell did you just say?" His tone turned a note low, the deep raves of his voice enough to warn of the impending danger.

Did that scare you? Maybe. Were you going to back down and say sorry? Abso-fucking-lutely not.

You scoffed, folding your hands over your chest, "Oh, you heard me." It was entertainment. Pure entertainment. Watching him riled up over a simple accusation. Hell, you'd pay to witness it again and again. "Do I have to say it again to your face, cheater?"

If he's so much offended to be labelled as a cheater then he shouldn't have brought up the topic in the first place. It doesn't make sense on what type of logic, you're backing yourself up but if rationality worked in cases of fueling rage and huge egos then there'd be no wars in the first place.

His response could only be grasping you by the throat, firmly as he roughly pushed you back on the wall. "I am the cheater? I've been nothing but loyal to you."

"The last time Yorozu–"

"She was clinging to me and I pushed her off, what more do you want?"

Nothing, I am just fucking jealous. That's what, you should be saying but you don't cause- cause you just can't.  You grit your teeth and resort to profanity, "Fuck you, nonetheless."

"You stupid bitch," His grip around your throat tightens and that's when you're finally aware of your position. With your back pressed against the wall and his calloused hand grazing over the pulse point of your throat–this situation could not be more intimate.

You are hit with his cologne mixed with the musky smell of cigarette which, you assume, he had smoked before coming to you. A heat burns in your core as you notice the intricacies of tattoos that marks his visage; each one luring you to trace your fingertips over them.

You're still antsy and a flurry of provocative insults are resting on the tip of your tongue which would be spit out any second but- but what could be the better time for your estrogen levels to rise?

It's not long after that you mutter a curse under your breath, your fingers find their way to his collar; a second later–you are locking lips with him.

Sukuna's initial shock of the situation is evident as his lips doesn't move against yours. Yet, he indulges soon, his eyes flutter shut when he responds with equal fervour and fire. He tilts your head back, his tongue lapping over your bottom lip and a sigh escapes him when you give him access. His free hand find their way over to your hair, tangling his fingers through your strands as he tugs them back – deepening the kiss.

You groan against his lips at the surprise pull. His tongue prods inside your mouth, engaging in a harmonious dance with yours – swirling and lapping with it. His hold on your throat was tight, cutting off your air supply while his mouth moved against yours in a rhythm. Allowance of breath was gratified once he felt your mouth tighten against his. You gasped and panted for air, his hold on your throat loosening just a bit. When you looked up, a suggestive smirk was plastered against his lips and damn– wasn't that just irksome.

Sukuna pulls you closer, nibbling on your earlobe which incites a rather sinful moan from your mouth. "All that attitude and you wanted this. Should have just said so, princess." It's almost mocking on how he used the nickname.

"Fuck you."

"Gladly."

Said so, his mouth again presses over yours, harder than the previous time. The passionate liplock lights the fire in both of you as Sukuna's hands glide down from your hair. Caressing the curves and contours of your body before finally resting on the plump flesh of your ass. He squeezes your buttocks while trailing feather-light kisses down your jaw and lips.

"Use your words from next time, princess."

Fuck it. Fuck him. He is smirking. You can't see it but damn, isn't it palpable? Your eyes are shut tight as his hand moves from your buttocks to your thighs and upto your thong. "Fucking soaked," He hisses under his breath, feeling the large wet splotch that has settled over your the fabric.

"Ngh– Sukuna," A breathy moan slips past you as he palms you over the garment, tracing the outline of your clit and entrance. His attempt at teasing you is working dangerously well and you have to restrain yourself from giving into this wanton pleasure. You grip onto his biceps, nails digging into the muscles from over his shirt. "Stop fu-fucking teas–ing me."

"Am I teasing you? Mhm nah, I don't think so." His heated breath falls hot over your neck as he licks a line over the curve of it. "Tell me, what do you want me to do?"

You don't answer, silently scowling at him but that's his cue to slide your thong aside and caress the skin over your needy pussy. He knows what you want. And he knows only he can give it you. But he won't. Not until you say it. And you won't say it cause you're damn stubborn and you've got to show him that you're still mad which is proving difficult under his skillful ministration.

Well, that isn't a bother to him, you can stay with your resolve all you want while he enjoys playing with you.

"F-Fuck it– Sukuna–," You whine, pushing your hips towards his fingers to just receive an inch of stimulation but that's fruitless. The attempt at clamping your legs shut is the worst play you could make as Sukuna harshly slaps your pussy.

"Keep those legs spread like a good whore."

You hate him. You really do. You hate him for the certain joy of degradation mixed with praise – one, only he can evoke from you. The phrase had a electricity shoot to your cunt causing it to throb as a sheen of sweat formed over your forehead.

The grip over your resolve breaks and you find yourself speaking before you can even think, "Fuck– Sukuna, need you, ngh– now."

"Now, that's like a good little slut." Sukuna doesn't need to be told twice before two of his digits delves inside your aching cunt while the rough pad of his thumb presses over your clit.

You throw your head back at the needed stimulation and courtesy to Sukuna's hand tangled in your hair–shielding your scalp from hitting the wall. The flurry of curses and moans leaving your lips could have been recorded. His fingers move in and out of your cunt in a fast pace while your pussy sucks them in. He hits your g-spot and that has your eyes rolling back in your head. The squelching noises from your pussy and your breathy loud whimpers reverbrates through each and every corner of your room. He draws circles over your clit, scissoring his finger in a V, stretching you out.

"Eyes on me, princess," He murmurs in your ear and you comply soon after. Gazing in his crimson eyes darkened with lust, a shiver runs down your spine as your legs tremble while he fingerfucks you like playing the keys to a piano. "Watch the only man who can make you cum like this."

It's possessive and diabolical. He has no right to act such when you aren't even the one who's going around entertaining the opposite gender. But you don't have any bit of resilence left in you to tell him to fuck off. Besides with the amount of strings he's pulling, its only a second later that you spasm and milk around his digits.

Sukuna pulls out his fingers from your hole, gazing at the slick and fluid running down them with amusement flickering over his irises. Yet, he pushes them to your mouth, pulling down your lower lip. "Clean up your mess, brat."

You keep your eyes on him, taking the same fingers which was in your cunt, in your mouth as you lick them clean.

"Yeah? Like that? It's yours, princess." You hum in response. Your brain is still hung up on the earlier scenario, and even though getting off on his fingers did relieve your frustration. You're still not satisfied. Nay, you aren't letting him off the hook that easily. That's when a rather vile idea conjures up in your brain, a smirk escapes your lips.

"Hm, whatcha smiling about?"

You could only laugh, "Ah– you'll know." It's in a second that it happens – the tables turn. It's now Sukuna with his back resting against the wall while you smirk up at him. Your hand slid down to his sweatpants and damn– his clothed bulge could only compare to the actual thing. You kneel down before him, a mischievous glint shadowing your eyes. "Let me return the favour."

You hook your thumb and pointer finger in his waistband, pulling down his briefs. His cock springs out, smacking against his abdomen and for a second, its like you get a brain freeze. Rock hard, and the veins are protruding out of the shaft. It isn't the first time, you've seen it but each time you do, realization hits of how huge it is.

"Less staring, more sucking, princess." Sukuna says from above, threading his fingers through your hair.

"Oh no, just admiring a work of art," You reply with a sickeningly sweet smile. It isn't a lie but it's sure a push to his ego. You look up at him, holding the base of his cock as you swirl your tongue over his mushroom tip.

"Fuck," He mutters to himself, head tipping back when your warm mouth latches over his hardened shaft. He pushes himself onto your moist mouth, hitting the back of your throat as you almost gag on his cock. You compose yourself soon, looking up at him as you bob your head up and down on his thick, veiny shaft.

Sukuna's grip on your hair doesn't falter, instead tightens as he establishes his hold while tangling his finger through your strands. You assume he likes it (and why wouldn't he? Only you can give him a head like this) from the way noises leaves his mouth as you take him in as much as you can. Your hand glides over the remnants of his dick, stroking and pressing on it.

"God yeah– fuck... j-just like that– ngh."

Your name rolls out of his mouth sinfully causing your cunt to suck on air. Drool runs down your chin to your jaw as you lap your tongue over his shaft – swirling and drawing over the bulging veins. You feel him twitch in your mouth and you know he's close. He knows, he's close as he heaves in a ragged breath.

Good. You were just waiting for that.

You detach your mouth from his cock with a pop, standing up as you press your lips to his for a brief second. A smirk played at your lips, "Now, wasn't that nice?"

"What the fuck?!" Sukuna growls at you, dumbfounded at the wave of pleasure that would've washed over him if not for you.

"Pay back, darling." You grin, pressing a kiss to cheek which only infuriates him more.

It isn't a second later that you are roughly thrown on your bed as Sukuna hovers over you, pulling your skirt up and ripping out your thong. You don't have the time to complain when he pushes his cock inside your throbbing cunt, hitting right at your g-spot on the very first stroke.

"God, Suku– ah–" A harsh slap is delivered to your ass, you hiss in pain as Sukuna picks up the pace. Pulling out his cock just to the tip before shoving the whole girth in–stretching and filling you up to the brim.

"Sluts don't get to speak," Another smack lands on your ass cheek, harder than the previous. It would sure leave a mark but he could care less. He swipes at your hardened bud, pinching it as you cry out in pain. "Yeah, like that– scream like the dumb bitch you are."

You are panting, trying to breath but his hand is clamped around your throat like a collar–pressing down your wind pipe. "Gnhh– Su-Suku' ahh– too m-much."

"Too bad, you're taking it." His hands find their way under your thighs, pushing them up until your knees are pressed up beside your face. He folds you in a mating press, reaching spots in you which you didn't know existed. "That's the thanks I got for making you cum. Brat's like you need to be punished." Said so, he reaches under your shirt, squeezing and kneading your breasts while he tweaks over your nipples.

You fist the sheets, eyes rolling back, you are almost on the verge of seeing stars before your eyes. His strokes has your legs tremble but he holds you tightly in his grasp, pinching and tugging on your erected buds. You swallow a deep breath feeling yourself clamp around his cock, you're close–too close and his swipes inside your pussy does not make this situation better. "Sh-shit, ahh– g-gonna ngh– cum."

"Oh yeah, so soon?" He pinches your clit elliciting a scream from you. "Like that, don't ya? Nasty little bitch, cum."

You suck him in, feeling yourself come undone under him. But– uh oh...

Sukuna is far from done.

You don't have the time to catch your breath, before he flips your position; you're straddling his lap with his dick still stuck in your cunt. "Wait– what the–"

"We are far from over," He whispers near your ear. "I still haven't cum, slut." He leans back on the bedframe, squeezing your ass cheek with a lopsided smirk stuck on his face. "Go on, take responsibility of your own actions. Or..." He stretches out the word, looking down on you. "Can you not?"

Did he really...? Was that really a challenge thrown your way?

If he thinks your estrogen levels aren't enough to keep up with his testosterone then he's damn wrong. You snickered, placing your hands on his broad shoulders, digging your nails into his flesh–he grunts out in pain. Your knees are aside his hips as you push yourself down on his cock. "You should know better than asking me if I can go on."

"Hm, prove it then."

Damn bastard... he's toying with you, provoking you with words and damn! It's working well. Like a moth to a flame, you are playing into his whims and you're damn sure, he's laughing his ass off inside his mind.

"Fuck off," You curse at him, pulling yourself up before sitting back on his member.

"Gosh– shit," Sukuna grabs your hips, groaning at the way your warm walls feel around his dick. Hooking his hand under your top, he tugs on it and you oblige, putting your hands up as the garment is thrown off your body. He doesn't waste a second before delving in to bite and suck on the flesh of your neck while fondling your breasts.

The only sound that reverberated through the room were your wanton moans mixed with his groans as your name was chanted like a mantra. Your butt slapped against his lap as you bounced on him, your mouth parted as a trail of drool ran down your chin.

It's the same dance, you've danced with him countless times. The flicker of flame that burnt could only be fuelled by your combined desires. Each kiss, each bite, each stroke giving rise to the allure of just one more. Once again.

You felt Sukuna's cock twitch inside your sore cunt–burning and ravished from taking him in so long. Your pleasure was coming in soon. And at the last second, Sukuna's mouth met yours in a salacious, deep kiss–resulting you to moan in his mouth as his seeds paint your walls white. You come simultaneously, ragged breath of relief erupting from you.

Both of you part, as you stay still over him, catching your breath. You look into his eyes; he's staring right back. Huffs and pants could be the means of communication and even though your room is air-conditioned, a thin layer of sweat covers the both of you.

For a second, there is a amalgam of emotions that flicker in his gaze alone. They disappear before you can name them yet- you believe there was a hint of tenderness to them.

"I hate you," The words flow out of you yet you don't know, why they don't have the same sharp tone as always.

"I hate you," You repeat again.

A smug smirk plasters over his lips as he clicks his tongue, "Right? Who was riding that dick–"

"Shut up."

Yes, you do hate him the most.

#sukuna ryomen #sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk x reader #sukuna #ryomen sukuna fanfiction #ryomen sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna smut #sukuna ryomen smut #sukuna x you #ryomen x you #jjk sukuna #sukuna jjk #sukuna ryomen x reader #ryomen x reader

[moon-silvered]

I’m alive, just very tired and very busy. Have some fun dialogue between Jersey and Steven Grant, prompted by a tweet I saw: 

"Are you sure you want to do this?"

"Listen, I want to give you a redo of your first time. Seems fucked how it ended up."

"True..it...didn't go how I always thought. But...would you mind if we used a few things, too?"

"You want to use toys, Grant?

"That's not...weird is it?"

"Nah not weird. Most people experiment well before they pop off. So sure, yeah get your kink on."

"Do you mind a blindfold? Or...being tied up."

"...."

"Yeah sorry, too much."

"Well not really, just didn't expect it out of you, Grant. Out of Locks, yeah, basically bread and butter for he and I. But you...you just seemed more of a vanilla kinda guy."

"Its alright if it's too much-"

"Nah-nah. Tell ya what, where's the ropes and blindfold? I can get you squared up against that pole-"

"Actually...it's for you."

"Come again."

"I...want to tie you up."

"Cono, Grant, that's like a punch in the gut-"

"Sorry-sorry!"

"No no. Just uhh... we gotta cover some ground rules, ya know."

"Oh yeah sure. Do you have a safe word you'd prefer?"

"Jesus fuck, Grant, how far into the non penetrative BDSM hole are you in that we need a safe word?!"

#steven grant x reader #steven grant x nb reader #fic: fuck this bitch in particular

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

hiii i luv ur work^^ can i request a fic where carmy get sucked off so good it makes his brain short-circuit a little? like he came home all tired and pent up n reader just "blow" it all away. wanna see this man get taken care of🥺 he's alway got so much on his mind i just wanna see him fucked till his brain is empty

Short Circuit.

Carmy doesn’t know how to shut his brain off. Luckily, you do.

pairing - roommate!carmen berzatto x female reader

warnings - smut. cursing.

word count - 1.8k

authors note - carmy’s a little bitch in this one!! mwahahaha!! to my love who requested - i’m sorry I ended up making him a bit pathetic here, but in my defence… he does give off the energy of a wet cat, so. this set in the roommates universe, but the fics have no particular order <3

if you enjoyed, please reblog!! reblogs are the only way to circulate my fics, which in turn creates more. <3

masterlist. inbox. series masterlist.

“Sit the fuck down.”

Carmy blinks at you like a deer caught in headlights, confused and struggling to process.

“W-what?”

“You heard me, Carmen. Sit the fuck down before I shove you there myself.”

You gesture at the couch only a few feet away, crossing your arms over your chest expectantly.

He exhales shakily before placing his mug of coffee on the kitchen counter, walking over to do as you ordered.

He’s never really been bossed around by you before. Sure, you scold him occasionally, warn him when he does something wrong, but never like this. He can’t tell if he likes it. He thinks that maybe he does.

He gets comfy on the couch, sitting back against the cushions and spreading his legs. His white t shirt spreads deliciously across his broad shoulders, tight and worn. His old flannel pyjama pants look so cosy, you itch to reach out and run your hand across them.

Carmy’s watching you curiously, waiting for your next move. He can’t predict what’s going to happen, which would usually make him nervous. But right now, he’s got electricity buzzing through his veins, crackling and charged.

You set your own mug down and saunter over in his direction, as if you have all the time in the world. You stop at the window and shut the blinds, smirking over your shoulder when he raises his eyebrows in a silent question.

“Don’t want to give the neighbours a show.”

Carmy’s breath hitches in his chest, panting with anticipation. You crack your knuckles and stretch your arms above your head, suppressing a laugh when you see his eyes glued to the skin you expose between your t shirt and pyjama pants.

You stand in front of where he’s sat, patient and waiting. You look so tall, looking down on him, so completely powerful. He’s suddenly very confused by his own feelings.

“I’m sick of you bitching and moaning,” you begin, dropping to your knees on the patterned rug. “So I’m gonna make you shut the fuck up.”

Carmy suddenly sits up straight, full attention captured.

“What?”

“God, do you ever listen, Carmen?”

He’s silenced by your rebuttal, so you continue.

“You’re stressed to the max, and you don’t know how to leave work at work. You bring it home, complain for hours, and then wonder why you can’t relax. You need to shut your brain off.”

Carmy swallows harshly, eyes never leaving yours.

“And how am I supposed to do that?”

“You’re not. I’m gonna do it for you.”

With that, you rise up onto your knees so you’re face to face with your roommate.

“You okay with this?” you whisper, searching his features for any signs of trepidation.

“More than okay,” he breathes, leaning in to you. “Kiss me first? Please?”

You don’t think anyone would be able to resist him in this moment, when he looks and asks so pretty.

“Whatever you want, babe.”

You press your lips to his gently, resting the waters. Carmy instantly pulls you in with his arms around your back, deepening the kiss. You slip your tongue into his mouth and take control, nipping at his bottom lip when he gets too cocky.

“I’m in charge,” you tell him lowly. “If you wanna stop, say stop. But otherwise, I’m gonna keep going until you can’t remember your own name.”

Carmen’s eyes roll back at the promise, head hitting the sofa behind him as he groans. You settle back down between his legs, pulling his pyjama pants off and throwing them aside.

You trail open mouthed kisses up his thighs, starting at his knee and ending at his hip. Occasionally you bite down, soothing the sting with your tongue as you go. When he starts to fidget, you fully sink your teeth into his muscle, sharp and warning. He flinches, and you smirk.

“Patience, Carmen.”

“Don’t wanna be fuckin’ patient,” he grumbles under his breath, petulant as ever.

You look up at him firmly, and he gets the message.

Running your fingers up and down his thigh, you sit and enjoy the way goosebumps rise across his skin. You’re on a power trip, buzzing with the adrenaline of having a man like Carmy at your mercy.

“Good things come to those who wait,” you tease, before dancing your fingertips across the material of his boxers. His hips buck up into your hand and you relent, pulling his underwear down and off in one quick move.

He hisses as the cool air of the room hits his heated skin, the combination of sensations overwhelming.

You kiss along his hipbones, tasting salt and the musk that’s so Carmy. Nudging your nose into the juncture of his thigh, you chuckle when he shudders.

“Please, babe.”

“What do you want, Carm?”

“Just- just do something, please. Anything.”

Maybe it’s the rare show of manners, or maybe it’s his pleading tone, but you finally take pity on him. Grasping him in your hand, you give your wrist an experimental twist, biting your lip when he groans.

“Yeah,” he murmurs, all breathy and strained. He sounds so pretty like this, all loose limbed and pliable. “Shit, babe. Yeah.”

You take your time learning what he likes. Twisting, pulling, applying a little pressure. Carmy is writhing in his seat, completely unable to keep still. You keep pushing his hips back down firmly, putting him in his place.

He has his eyes screwed shut, head thrown back into the couch cushions, gorgeous neck exposed. You take him by surprise by wrapping your lips around him, sucking gently. His hand flies to your head, grasping for grip, for any kind of anchor.

You double down on your efforts, twisting your wrist as you hollow your cheeks. You rake the nails of your other hand down his thigh, squeezing occasionally to let him know you’re still good.

You feel his muscles go tense, knuckles gripping the cushion underneath him. He’s right on the edge - you can sense it.

So, you stop.

You pull away completely, laughing when his eyes shoot open, brows furrowed together.

“W-what? What the fuck? Why’d you stop?”

“Because I can.”

Carmy doesn’t even have the energy to come up with a sarcastic response. Instead, he sinks further into the couch, looking down at you with those big blue eyes.

“Babe.”

“So whiny. Jesus, Carmen, have some self respect.”

On any other day, he wouldn’t take that lying down. He’d sass you twice as hard, smirking when you roll your eyes. But today, he doesn’t have it in him.

“Please.”

“Oh you sound so pretty when you beg.”

He blushes, heat blooming up his chest and across his cheeks. He reaches out and traces your lips with his thumb, a tender gesture among all of the filth currently occurring.

“Do it more.”

He blinks at you, wondering if he heard you correctly.

“What?”

“Listen for once in your life, Berzatto. I said, do it more. Beg. Beg for it, and I’ll make you come.”

Carmy thinks he might have died and gone to heaven. He’s never seen this side of you before - in all honesty, you didn’t know it existed. He’s discovering a lot about himself tonight, and as confusing as it is, he’s loving it.

“Please, honey. Please.”

You click your tongue disapprovingly, shaking your head.

“Nuh uh. I want you to beg so hard that I am dripping, Carmen. Make it count.”

“You’re getting off on this,” he chuckles in disbelief. “Fuck, that’s so hot.”

You mime tapping an imaginary watch on your wrist, signalling him to hurry up. In reality, you’d kneel here on the rug all night if he wanted, content to watch him all high strung and flushed.

“Okay, okay. Sweetheart, please. Fuck, I need it. Need it so bad. Need you so bad. Just- give me anything, something, please.”

His voice has gone all breathy, shaky and unsure. He sounds like he’s on the verge of tears, and the mental image of him crying because of you turns you on more than it should.

“Oh baby,” you coo. “Was that so hard? Hmm?”

He shakes his head, bitten lip between his teeth.

“Gonna give you what you need now, because you were so good. My pretty, pretty boy.”

It might be your tone, or it might be because you called him your boy, but Carmy melts. He’s nothing but a puddle, mewling and panting, no coherent thoughts left in his brain.

You get back to work, hollowing your cheeks and working whatever you can’t fit in your mouth with your soft hands. You swirl your tongue, pressing it to the underside of him when you pull back slightly for air.

You wonder, for a second, if you’ve broken your roommate. Nonsense is leaving his lips in constant streams, babbling under his breath like he’s lost his mind.

“Yeah baby, keep going please, please don’t stop.”

“Fuck you’re so good, s’good, so good.”

“Just wanna come, please honey, I’ll do anything. Anything you want.”

“Ohhh, yesyesyes, oh fuck, thank you baby, shit.”

You keep humming in response, and the vibrations are Carmy’s undoing. His hips jolt upwards as his back arches off the couch, fingers scrambling for purchase. He hits the back of your throat and you groan, letting him ride it out however he needs. He relaxes back into his original position, body completely spent.

You squeeze his thigh to get his attention, making sure he watches as you swallow everything he’s given to you. He groans, low and tired, shaking his head with a smile on his face. You rest your head on his leg, looking up at him.

“You good, Carm?”

He nods, trying to gather the energy to answer you properly.

“Yeah,” he says after a while. “I genuinely think I’ve never been better.”

You laugh, and the sound makes him grin, all slow and saccharine.

“I can’t move. Think you’ve ruined me.”

“That was the plan,” you wink, standing up and pulling his boxers back up his legs.

You grab a bottle of water from the kitchen, watching as he downs it all in one go. Sitting next to him on the couch, he pulls you into his side, slotting you there perfectly.

“Thank you,” he whispers into the evening dusk of the room. “Not just for making me come harder than I ever have in my life. But, you know… for everything.”

You chuckle, intertwining your fingers with his.

“Of course. You’d do the same for me.”

“Next time you have a bad day, I’m gonna throw you on the couch and eat you out until you cry.”

You groan, pinching his thigh in warning.

“Don’t threaten me with a good time.”

@enigmaticloki @kaelabear @idontexist-anymore @jazminsjaz @kingsqueensandvagabonds

#roommate!carmy berzatto x reader #roommate!carmen berzatto x reader #roommate!carmen berzatto #roommate!carmy berzatto #carmen berzatto imagine #carmen berzatto x reader smut #carmen berzatto smut #carmen berzatto fluff #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto #the bear imagine #the bear smut #carmy berzatto imagine #carmy berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto smut #jeremy allen white #the bear x reader #carmy berzatto #carmy the bear #carmy x reader #sub!carmen berzatto

[switchypanic]

Wishful Thinking || A 'Hazbin Hotel' Tickle Fic (100 Follower Special)

Summary: Vox's obsession with Alastor is no secret, but the true extent and nature of said obsession is an entirely different story. As his thoughts grow increasingly consumed by his rival, Vox finds it harder and harder to think about anything else, ultimately coming to a head with a very interesting discovery.

Content Warnings: Canon-typical language, brief mild violence, use of restraints, a lil' bit of blackmail, and Vox being a thirsty bitch for Alastor (because we love a good dose of one-sided attraction). Also, not really a warning, but any scenes that take place in somebody's head are in blue and italics (you'll see what I mean as you read).

Word Count: 3,669 words.

Vox couldn't fucking stand Alastor.

His stupid smile, his stupid voice, those stupid powers that allowed him to crush anyone in his way like an insect. The man was infuriating, always acting so calm and in control, even after Vox managed to get the drop on him that fateful day seven years ago. It was like nothing could touch him in any MEANINGFUL way, a fact that frustrated Vox to no end.

Yes, Alastor was nothing but a big pain in the ass, constantly doing anything in his power to screw with Vox, oftentimes broadcasting it for the entirety of Pride to witness.

Worst of all was the way that he infiltrated Vox's processor, filling his head with fantasies he had no way of controlling without shutting himself down completely. And it wasn't even intentional! That bastard had no idea what he was doing, or if he did, he gave no indication of it! No, he just kept on smiling that stupid grin, making those passive aggressive remarks, acting like he wasn't the thing consuming Vox's mind nearly twenty-four hours a day.

Vox watched the surveillance footage captured earlier that morning, feeling his breath hitch at the staticky image being displayed. He could just barely make out Alastor's form through the distortion (another thing that Vox hated about him; the bastard made it damn near impossible to get a clear image of him), standing outside the doors of little Princess Morningstar's hotel discussing something unintelligible with that winged cat sinner who often hung around him.

Through the grainy audio, he could just make out Alastor barking out a laugh, the sound itself laced with static and radio interference. The deer demon's shoulders shook, his ears pinning back slightly as he chortled, his companion letting out an irritated huff in response.

How many times had Vox watched the clip now? He had honestly lost count. He didn't know why he kept returning to that particular moment of footage; nothing particularly useful or interesting was occurring. Just a regular conversation, from what he could tell. There was just...something in the other overlord's moment of mirth that captured his full attention, setting something ablaze within the TV demon.

More; he wanted to hear more.

The lights flickered, the sound of screeching radio filling the air, accompanied by something entirely different.

Giggling, pure and hysterical.

Alastor lurched forwards, hands latched onto Vox's wrists as he tried to lean forward and away from the other demon, who held him firmly against his chest. "Rehehehehelease me at ohohohohonce!" The usually composed overlord was a mess, face tinted a bright shade of red, eyes crinkled with mirth as another wave of snickers shook his frame. "Shihihihihihihit!"

Vox chuckled, leaning forward to croon into Alastor's ear, which immediately flicked at the feeling of the other's warm breath. "What's the matter, old man? Too ticklish?" He sang, smirk widening. "What would the public think, knowing the famed Radio Demon is so...sensitive..." He growled the last part, low and teasing, resulting in a shriek of microphone feedback from Alastor. "Perhaps I should turn on some of my cameras, hm? I doubt you could focus on messing with them while your giggling so hard. I could let all of Hell know just how much of a ticklish little-"

Vox blinked, pulled from his daydream by a raised brow from Velvette. "Vox, are you listening to me? This is important shit! I need to make sure you're on top of the advertisements for my new collection if we are going to see any substantial sales!"

Vox cleared his throat, trying to urge his screen to COOL THE FUCK DOWN before his flusteredness became obvious. "Apologies, I seem to have gotten distracted. You were saying, my sweet?"

Vox chuckled, watching his rival's squirming form, bound to the chair with the purest grade of angelic steel money could buy.

Only the best for this occasion.

"Well, well! Look what the cat dragged in!" Vox laughed, walking in circles around Alastor, taking in every detail of the scene before him. He was going to relish thing; savor it. He had waited so long to have the other at his mercy, and now he was going to take his sweet time and ENJOY the fruits of his labor. "You've lost your touch, old timer! It was far too easy to catch you in my little trap."

Alastor's eyes narrowed, grin tightening in a clear show of displeasure. "You would do well to remember who you are speaking to." He retorted, chin raising defiantly as Vox finally stopped in front of him.

"Oho, I remember good and well. I'm talking to the prick who has done nothing but make my life harder ever since he arrived here, and I'm going to see to it you feel every second of what's coming next." He leaned forward, locking eyes with the other overlord as he gave a grin of his own, his far more devious. "Little buck."

Vox's hand's shot out, latching onto Alastor's ribcage and beginning to claw at the boney torso. Alastor's breath hitched, his eyes widening with alarm. His grin became more strained as he jerked forward, trying to curl inwards on himself. His breathing became sporadic, lips sealed shot as a wobbly, genuine smile began to curl at the corners of his mouth. "F-Fuhuhuck!"

The TV demon laughed lowly. "Trying to hold out, are we? We'll see how long that lasts..."

Vox awoke with a start, his screen turning on as he bolted up in bed. His eyes were wide, immediately flicking over to Valentino, who lay beside him. Thankfully, the moth was still sound asleep, snoring loudly without a care in the world. Vox sighed, running a hand across his face and feeling the heat of a blush under his palm.

Damn it, this was starting to get out of control!

Vox was going mad! No matter how hard he tried to clear his thoughts, they always returned back to those deep, hidden desires playing out over and over in his processor. He found himself constantly thinking about Alastor's smile, his laugh, the prospect of taking him down with a few well placed squeezes or prods. To make matters worse, Vox was having a hard time FUNCTIONING at work because of this, and he could tell the other Vees were starting to catch on that something was up.

The TV demon rung his hands together, pacing back and forth in his private office. He had to find a solution FAST or he was royally screwed!

'Damn you, Alastor!’ Vox thought, a small growl slipping out as he rubbed his forehead, flopping into his chair and turning to face one of the many spying monitors plastered to the wall. "Pull up what we have on the Hazbin Hotel." He grumbled, giving in to his urge to spy on his rival once more. Inside, he secretly hoped to catch another fleeting moment of mirth from Alastor, even if it was just a chuckle.

Three monitors came to life, showing the hotel from various angles, with one focused directly on the front entrance. Aside from his...ongoing interest in the Radio Demon, Vox liked to keep tabs on who was going in and out of the hotel, just to make sure the princess wasn't gaining any more powerful allies he needed to know about. The scene was serene, or at least as serene as a live feed of Hell COULD be, nothing out of place. It seemed luck wasn't on Vox's side, as Alastor was nowhere to be seen. The TV host felt his eye twitch in irritation, disappointment stirring within him.

"You motherfucker! This is a brand new suit!" Vox yelled angrily as Alastor dodged another of his attempts to strike him.

The Radio Demon let out an amused chuckle (though unfortunately not the kind of laugh Vox had been secretly craving), one flick of his microphone sending three tentacles darting at Vox from different directions, which the other barely managed to avoid. "Really? Could have fooled me with how tacky and outdated it looks." The redhead retorted smugly.

"Oh, fuck you! I'll wipe that shit-eating grin off your face!" Vox retorted, giving up on using his powers in favor of lunging for the deer demon himself.

Alastor took a step back, Vox's claws just barely grazing the sides of his neck. The radio host opened his mouth, as if to make another snide remark, but whatever he said died in his throat and was replaced by a startled crack of microphone feedback. The two demons froze, eyes widened as they stared at each other wordless for a moment.

"What the fuck was-" Vox started, but in the blink of an eye, Alastor was gone and their fight was seemingly over.

"I mean, seriously?! What the fuck WAS that?!" Vox asked himself, finding himself pacing around his private surveillance room once more. "He never runs from a fight with me! Shit, he only ran from Adam because he was about to fucking die! He was nowhere near that point today!"

Did Vox somehow managed to hurt him? No, he had thrown far worse at the Radio Demon before without leaving so much as a scratch. He had BARELY touched him, and even with his claws, it couldn't have possibly hurt. So what...

The TV demon stopped, eyes shooting wide open as his breath quickened. No...no fucking way...

Alastor was ticklish. Not just in Vox's mind's eye, not just in his secret fantasies. He was actually, tangibly ticklish, and going from the reaction one brief touch had garnered, horrifically so.

Vox's processor raced at the prospect. He had been daydreaming about turning the other overlord into a cackling puddle, wheezing for mercy through a cracked voice, but he had never actually imagined it was possible! Vox got the feeling this discover was only going to make his daydreaming problem worse, but at the moment, he couldn't bring himself to care.

Alastor was TICKLISH...

'There has to be some way I can...some trick I can pull to...' Vox's mind raced, barely able to finish a sentence. He HAD to have the other now, even if just for a brief instance. Vox NEEDED to feel that high of reducing his mortal enemy to giggling shambles; to know what it felt like to be the one to finally BREAK the feared Radio Demon. But how?

Obviously the heat of battle wasn't the best place, though it would ensure a public audience to witness his victory. He doubted Alastor would agree to a private meeting, especially after their most recent fight. And there was CERTAINLY no way Vox was going to lower himself enough to go crawling to Princess Morningstar's little hotel. No, Vox was going to have to come up with another solution.

"Something on your mind?" A voice purred from behind him, low and dangerous. Vox yelped, whipping around with widened eyes. From one of the darkened corners of the room, Alastor seeped out of the shadows, grin ever present but appearing more strained than usual. Vox felt a nervous lump form in his throat.

"What the fuck?! How did you even get in here?!" He yelled, immediately moving to hit the alarm button on his control console, only to find his wrist being suddenly restrained by a shadowy tentacle sprouting from the floor.

"Ah, ah!" Alastor tutted, taking a few steps forward. "None of that. I just want to talk." He cocked his head to the side. "And as for how I got in, let's just say your security is shockingly terrible for a demon of your status."

Vox's eyes narrowed. "If you're going to kill me, at least make it quick." He growled, attempting to put on a brave face and save a bit of his pride.

"Kill you? Why, I'm planning to do no such thing, at least not today! After all, to defeat one's rival in such a disgraceful, sneaky manner would not be becoming of either of us, would it?" Alastor chuckled, moving closer to Vox as another tentacle grabbed ahold of his other wrist, keeping the TV demon rooted firmly in place. A flash of green magic briefly passed over Alastor's eyes as he chuckled. "Though it would be quite easy for me to do so with you sooo defenseless."

Vox's brows furrowed in confusion. "Then why the hell are you here?"

"Like I said, I just want to talk." Alastor leaned forward, maintain eye contact with the shorter demon. "To ensure that you keep your trap shut about matters which do not concern you."

"What are you going on about?" Vox sighed, clearly irritated by the other's continued vagueness. He continued to stare at the other demon, who merely continued to watch him wordlessly, before it dawned on him. "You're worried I'm gonna tell somebody you're fucking ticklish?"

Alastor's eye gave the slightest twitch. "Sensitive." He corrected.

"I'm pretty sure you're ticklish." Vox retorted, taking some delight in his rival's clear displeasure. "And what makes you think holding me hostage in my own office would stop me from mentioning it during my next broadcast? You can't keep me like this forever."

The sound of microphone feedback briefly overtook the air around him, making Vox wince at the volume and pitch. "No, I can't keep you here indefinitely, but I can provide you with a little incentive to keep your trap shut." One of the tentacles coiled further down Vox's arm, the end gently brushing over the trapped overlord's armpit. Vox tensed, breath hitching as his eyes grew wide as saucers. "You see, don't think I haven't noticed your own sensitivity, Vox. In fact, I've known about it for some time."

Shit.

"I-I don't know what you're talking about! Get the fuck away from me!" Vox stammered, eyes locked onto the other's devious smirk.

"Oh, come now, don't be shy! It's not as if it was especially hard to find out about! We have fought so often, categorizing your little weak points was easy enough to accomplish!" Alastor took a step closer as the shadowy tentacle began to stroke Vox's armpit more firmly, slowly moving up and down in an agonizingly teasy motion. "I will admit, it took me some time to figure out why you often flinched at the slightest of touches during battle. However, all it took was witnessing one little tickle fight at the hotel to make everything fall into place."

Another of Alastor's tentacle slipped up, beginning to tweak at Vox's side, causing him to bite down on his lip in a desperate attempt to hold back snickers. "Those weren't the reactions of a man barely avoiding a fatal blow, those were the reactions of a man trying oh so hard to keep from giggling."

Vox felt his screen heating more and more by the second, both from embarrassment and the effort to keep his laughter bottled up. What the fuck was happening?! How was this real life?! The TV demon lurched forward, straining against the restrains as a particularly well-placed prod to his hipbone pulled a soft snort out of him. "Shuhuhut the fuck up!"

"Being stubborn, are we? I expected nothing less." Alastor chuckled, clearly amused. "Perhaps I should take a page from Angel Dust's playbook then, hm?" The other overlord suddenly materialized behind Vox, melting from the shadows and resting a clawed hand on the back of Vox's head. His grip tightened, pulling Vox's head backwards as he crooned into his ear. "Coochie coochie coo..."

Vox just about short circuited at that, the sound of loud television static filling the air. As Alastor's free hand suddenly dug into his stomach, he couldn't hold back any longer, bursting into a wave of panicked giggles. "Ohohohoho shihihihihihit!" The flood gates had opened, and Vox had no hope of closing them again, no matter how hard he tried.

"Lovely." Alastor seemed quite pleased with himself, clawed fingers scribbling across his rival's exposed midriff as the tentacles (thankfully) stopped their own attacks, now focusing on holding the TV demon nice and still.

"Fuhuhuhuhuck you! Lehehehehet mehehehe go!" Vox tried to sound threatening, he really did, but that was impossible when every word was laced with titters. He squirmed desperately, attempting to curl inwards and protect his sensitive torso, but the restraints held firm. His voice raised in pitch as Alastor zeroed in on his upper stomach, just below the ribs, refusing to acknowledge the borderline squeal he made.

"And why would I do that? I have you right where I want you; nice and helpless..." There was a low growl to Alastor's words, both threatening and teasing in the most awful of ways, sending Vox further spiraling into flusteredness. His claws began to slowly inch upwards, like a spider slowly climbing towards prey trapped in its web. "From what I have gathered, your ribs seem to be an area you're quite desperate to defend during our little fights. I wonder why that could be, hm?"

The TV host began shaking his head furiously. "Dooohohon't yohohohou fucking dahahahahare! I'll kihihihihihihill you!" He snorted, the sound of television static increasing ever so slightly.

"Oops, too late!" Alastor's claws dug in, beginning to rake across Vox's rib cage slowly, moving up to just below the armpits before cascading back down to just above the stomach.

Vox screeched, thrashing becoming downright desperate as he threw his head back with laughter. "NOHOHOHOHOHOOO! OHOHOHOHOHO MY GAHAHAHAHAHAD, STAHAHAHAHAHAHAP!" His cooling systems had kicked in, the fans whirling loudly as they attempted to cool down his quickly heating form. "NAHAHAHAHAHAT THEHEHEHEHERE!"

Alastor chuckled devilishly. "Why Vox, you should know better! Everyone knows that saying "not there" only makes the attack want to exploit that spot even more." He hummed, mockingly pretending to think. "Perhaps you DID know, and you're just enjoying this so much you want me to keep going? Is that it?"

The other overlord let out a startled squeal at the feeling of something fiddling with his antenna; when had ANOTHER tentacle popped up?!

Vox face felt like it was on fire from the teasing, his laughter pitching up with flustered desperation. "SHUHUHUHUT THE FUHUHUHUHUHUHUCK UP! THAHAHAHAT'S NOHOHOHOHOT TRUE!" He denied vehemently, knees starting to go weak. After a moment, his legs gave out, but instead of slumping to the floor, Vox found himself being held up by Alastor's sentient shadow. The creature's grin widened, becoming downright feral as it let out an amused cackle at his plight.

"Whatever you say, old pal! Now, if you REALLY want this to stop, you will agree to keep what you discovered today between us alone." Alastor rested his chin on Vox's shoulder, the touch shooting a bigger shock through his nervous system than any tickling ever could. "Do we have a deal?"

Vox's processor was racing a thousand miles a minute. Fuck, why was this actually fucking fun?! What was wrong with him?! He knew he should have hated it; the powerlessness, the teasing, the terror of being so utterly defenseless in front of his greatest rival. Yet...he didn't hate it, a fact he found more flustering than any tease Alastor could have pulled out of his ass.

No, Vox did NOT want it to stop.

Still, if Vox DIDN'T give in, it would only confirm the assumption deer demon had so accurately deduced, and he wasn't sure his heart would be able to take the cruel, crooning teases Alastor would no doubt come up with upon such a revelation. When weighing the humiliation of yielding to Alastor to the humiliation of admitting that he was ENJOYING getting tickled to the brink of his sanity, Vox would take the former any day.

"FIHIHIHIHINE, HOHOHOHOHOLY SHIHIHIHIHIT! DEAL, DEHEHEHEHEEEEAL!" He screeched, a little wheeze slipping out as one of the tentacles tugged on his sensitive antenna. "JUHUHUST STAHAHAHAHAHAHAP, YOU BAHAHAHAHASTARD!"

As soon as those words were uttered, all touch disappeared, and Alastor reappeared a few feet in front of Vox. The overlord collapsed against his surveillance console, panting as his fans worked overtime to cool his body down. He shook with residual titters, his sharp-toothed grin nearly slipping his screen in two.

"There, was that so hard?" Alastor purred, sharing a smug grin with his shadow. "Now, I expect you to hold to our deal, otherwise I will have to take this little audio recording and make it the center of my next broadcast!" The deer demon twirled his cane, gazing at it and humming as Vox's eyes shot open.

"What now?"

Alastor scoffed. "Oh, please! Did you really think I would take you on your word alone that you would stay silent? I knew you would not make a soul deal with me over it, so I took matters into my own hands." The other sinner explained. "See, my microphone was recording our little interaction the whole time, minus the parts about my own...shortcomings. Think of it as insurance; it will not be released to the public as long as you behave yourself!"

Vox's face exploded into a bright blush blush. "Wait, that wasn't part of the fucking-"

"Oops, I'm afraid I have another engagement to attend to! Until we meet again!" Alastor cut him off, melting back into the shadows and disappearing from sight before Vox could finish his sentence. The TV host growled, flopping into his chair. His claws dug into the armrests, slicing into the slight padding. That prick! He couldn't just-

The overlord sighed in defeat after a moment, eyes closing as his breathing slowly returned to normal and his fans kicked off. He could still feel those claws scratching at his ribs, setting his nervous system alight with ticklish fire. He could still hear that voice, singing those awful, teasing words into his ear. He could still feel his limbs strain against the tentacle's hold, preventing him from squirming away no matter how hard he tried. Vox swallowed, feeling his blush returning full force.

He might have a different daydream to worry about now...

#brief ticklish!alastor #ticklish!vox #hazbin hotel tickle fic #hazbin hotel tickles #tickle fic #sfw tickles #sfw tickling #sfw tickling community #tickling community #sfw twords #sfw tword community #tword community #switchy writes tickles

[rineptune]

Heeeeeyyyy pal

Can we get a continuation of that fic with the pregnant reader who's Lucifer's sister

Like what if her water broke at like, the *least* convenient time and Lucifer is freaking tf out, Alastors chill as usual and readers just like

:) "I'm just glad to be here" while having contractions

Love your work btw 🤗

inconvenient timing.

summary: inconvenient timing for your water to break, but what else could you do?

warnings: foul language, brief description of the horrors of pregnancy and labor

a/n: here it is n tysm!! the second part to devil’s paradise

during your pregnancy, all is well. 

regular visits from the doctor became part of the routine, and alastor made the effort to be the one accompanying you to every last one of them, and on the rare occasion that he couldn’t accompany you, charlie—your ever optimistic and kind niece—was the one who came with.

the crew of the hotel treated you as if you were made of glass, not wanting you to lift too much on your plate, so they did their best to cater to your every need and demand (not that you needed much and bothered them often).

you took care of yourself, too.

though your belly had gotten swollen, you were feeling fine, as if you weren’t carrying the unborn child of the feared radio demon in pride ring. you thanked whoever it is you could thank that you didn’t experience morning sickness, however, you were no exemption from the fatigue and discomfort that came with being pregnant.

lucifer’s worry for your well-being throughout all of this still hasn’t completely faded away. you were his only sister! and his brothers in heaven would surely have his head if something did happen to you now that you’ve fallen from the skies and are now under his domain.

everything was going well, until it wasn’t.

•

you went with charlie during another meeting with heaven’s official court in place of your brother. obviously, all eyes wandered to your stomach because, how could they not?

a former angel pregnant? that stirred whispers and disgusted expressions from those who were from the court.

“as you can see, the population in hell is—“

charlie was cut off when the angels gasped in unison. confused, she turned to you, and her eyes widened when she saw the bottom half of your dress soaked. 

“oh my go—! aunt yn, your water broke.” she says in a panic.

“i see that, my dear,” you answer with an awkward cough. 

“it seems that i’ll be taking my leave early, uhm... excuse me.”

“wait! uhm, i’ll take you back!” she tells you. “we’ll be back another time, sorry! this is very important for us.” charlie tells the angels present at the court meeting.

•

alastor swore you were about to snap his hand into two.

“darling, are you nervous?” he asks smoothly.

“no? why would you ask that, al?”

“hmm.”

he glances at the hand that gripped his, remarkably so tight that he feels all the blood from that particular area stop flowing. your free hand caressed your belly through the hospital gown, taking slow and even breaths to somewhat soothe the contractions.

“i was only wondering,” alastor answers.

you may have a high pain tolerance, but when you’re having contractions, you might as well swear on every god and angel to spare you from the agonizing pain—promising to never think of having any children in the future again. 

because, god, it hurts like a bitch.

as calm as you were, lucifer, on the other hand, had no calm bone in his body.

“oh, god. gabriel’s calling,” lucifer says, looking as though he’s about to throw up.

“and the nursery still has renovations that need to be done—“

“i’m going to be an uncle, holy shit—“

“what if something goes wrong? what? no! i shouldn’t think that—“

“should i prepare the gifts—“

“where are the doctors and nurses? they should’ve been here by now—“

“i knew we shouldn’t have taken you to sloth ring, yn—“

“lucifer,” you breathed out. “calm down.”

“i am calm! fucking calm,” he said, wiping away the sweat on his brow. 

“you sound like a dying goat, my lord,” alastor smiled.

“fuck you, deerface.”

“ok, ok. no one should be fighting,” you amusedly sigh, groaning when you feel another sharp contraction that had you biting your lip.

this got the attention of the other two, and lucifer asked you if you were okay as alastor placed a comforting hand on your belly.

well, at least they got along when need be.

•

“look, she has your eyes and smile, al.”

after long, painful hours of labor and practically dying on your hospital bed due to the procedure of bringing a new life into this hellish world, a healthy baby girl was born.

she took on alastor’s ears, eyes, and smile, while she had your wings and charm. the little fawn was sound asleep in your arms after almost tragically biting off a nurse’s finger when he was checking for anything wrong with your baby—to alastor’s dismay, he wished his little girl had succeeded. 

nevertheless, she is perfect in his eyes already.

“our little fawn is certainly perfect, my dear,” he says. “she has your charm, too.”

“that she does.”

and you best believe charlie and lucifer cried when charlie finally held her baby cousin.

“charlie, dear, are you ok?” you ask, a bit concerned.

“allergies, auntie. allergies,” she sniffled.

nothing would ever happen to her, because anyone who dares even look at the niece of the morningstar fallen angel who was also the daughter of the infamous radio demon, would receive hell served on a golden platter without any remorse or time for rebuttal.

“it may have been inconvenient timing to have my contractions,” you murmur to alastor once you two are finally home and alone with your baby. “but i wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“i’m glad that you’re ok, darling.”

“mm, thank you, alastor.”

“you shouldn’t thank me for worrying about you. it’s only natural for me to do so, no?” he says.

“now, i have to take care of two, but i wouldn’t have it any other way either.”

#classic ໒꒱ ink #alastor x reader #alastor x you #alastor x y/n #alastor fluff #alastor #hazbin alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x y/n #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel fluff #hazbin hotel fanfiction

[ratskinsuit]

Could u do a pegging lucifer fic? And the (dom gn) reader is being extra mean to him and just degrading the shit outa him, and he’s just kinda crying begging for praise

Fucked Dumb

A/N: feels like forever since I wrote a smut fic lol. Times flying byyyy, sorry i haven’t been good with request recently I’ve just been working on my Ocs (plz I have so many I need to stop) and school blah blah blah. Hope you enjoyed!

Tags: Also consent is not states here but it was stated before you two do have a system, Aftercare is slightly mentioned, smut, pegging, nsfw, begging, brain fuck, sub Lucifer x reader, lil bit of blood play? (I think- idk reader licks up some blood from his chin)

MDNI

——————————————————————— P-lease agh- ha ah.. ngh darling PLE-ase…” Lucifer sobs, tears streaming down his face as you slam into him. His breath heavy.

You have him on the edge of the bed, legs spread as your strap pounds in and out of him at a fast pace.

All day he was begging for you to touch him, knowing you were busy with some important work. He kept persisting, sitting in your lap, “hugging” you from behind as he sits against you. Walking around in stupidly tight clothes.

You breaking point however was at the end of the day, when he was testing you all through a work call you had. Running his fingers up and down your thighs, holding your hand, slowly inching it towards his hard on.

So as soon as the call ended you slammed him against the mattress, his face going red with surprise, having not expected it.

You tied his hands together and left him there to go get your strap. A couple minutes later your fucking his brains out while he’s sobs on hour dick. Bringing you to now.

“Oh no no no. You w-anted to be a little fucker all day, practically humping me every time you got close enough. So now take it bitch.” You hiss, a particularly hard thrust earning a wail from the ruined man under you.

Lucifer’s hands are tied together above his head with a pretty red ribbon. It’s tight enough to keep him from wiggling but not enough to cut his circulation.

His hair is sweaty, sticking to his forehead and jutting out everywhere. Sweat drips down his face. His eyes are rolled back, twitching and blown out. His eyebrows are scrunched together in concentration, going from relaxed to tense every other second.

His mouth is wide open, your almost convinced a fly will go into it. Drool is running down his chin, flying everywhere as moans and begging tumble out. What he’s begging for; I don’t think even he knows.

“Pl- darlin- agh hng…AH hA! Fu-uck Hng…” Lucifer lets out a wail as you hit a particular spot inside of him, causing the sheets he’s gripping to rip.

He’s sobbing, as you continue to mash up his insides. He shudders, letting out an in-human sound as he orgasms for the 5th time this night.

“That’s five fu-cking times this night whore… hah… fuck, god that’s just sad. I’ve only come once? Needy bitch.” You tease as he writhes and shakes the bed, his orgasm washing over him.

He’s already came so much tonight, but still has more, coating the two of you.

He sputters, begging for a break as he can’t make out sentences. You watch as the king of hell moans and cries beneath you.

The sheets are ripped up under his hands, eyes completely rolled back. You see a trail of blood leaking from his mouth, and lean forward, licking it up with a swipe of your tongue.

You lean to him, forcing him into a hot kiss, that he tries to reciprocate but all he does is tangle his tongue with yours and drool all over himself.

You let out a laugh as you speed up, Lucifer choking on his own spit under you. “Fu-ck your so dumb-fucked you can’t even kiss you properly.

As quick as it had ended he tenses and cums again on his own chest.

“Dar- AH fu-hng… ple- I can- n’t hm.. m’be… been s’ch a goo-agh- good boy… plea-SE” He pleads at you, desperate for some relief.

You decide to take pity on him, and finish yourself off. You know he can take degradation but sometimes when he’s so far into subspace he gets really upset if you do it go much.

“Du-ont worry honey, your doing amazing, give me one m-more okay darling? M-..I wanna c-cum to, is that okay pr..etty boy?” You coo at him, and he nods frantically as you speed up,

“can- m’ make.. you cu- OH.. plea- you c-cu..m”he tries speaking but fails and you just shush him, untying his hands quickly. As soon as the are free he grabs your hand with one and squeezes tightly, the other going to your waist.

He’s babbling by this point, words and curses stringing together in noncence sentences, while you praise and coo at him. “Doing g-great my love, handsome boy. Go-nana make me come so hard…since your doing so-o amazingly..” he whimpers, reaching for your face and you lean and kiss him.

Him, having just cum, and you having been edging up to it. The two of you reach your orgasm quickly. You are locked in a kiss right as it hits you both like a freight trains.

Lucifer falls back, twitching and shuddering violently with his mouth wide open in a silent scream. You shake with your and collapse on top of him as you relish in the aftershocks.

After a couple of seconds, you sit up and pull out of him, him whincing a bit.

You throw the strap off to the side and go to the edge of the bed by Lucifer head. You push his hair out of his face and soothe his burning skin.

“You did so great my love, are you okay?” You ask, Lucifer gives a little nod. “Mhm’ I… agh fuck, can’t hng… feel my legs…” you giggle and crawl in next to him.

Even though the two of you were very sweaty, you held him as he closed his eyes, the two of you embraced together. “M…love you..” he murmurs, and you give him a kiss.

———————————————————————

A/N: As said in my other post I will be busy for a while after this, not going on hiatus just slow updates. I just wanted to get this out because I had it halfway done. Hope you enjoyed!

REQUESTS ARE OPEN

#hazbin hotel #hazbin #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin x reader #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin hotel smut #lucifer magne #lucifer hazbin hotel #Lucifer smut #Lucifer x reader #hazbin hotel lucifer x reader smut #hazbin hotel lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader smut #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer x reader smut #hazbin lucifer #lucifer morningstar #hazbin headcanons #lucifer magne x reader smut #lucifer magne x reader

[websterss]

𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝟏/𝟐 — 𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍 𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐑𝐘  

𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓: I have a really good fic idea! would u mind taking mine? If you have watched the Netflix series “you” then this request might seem familiar. Basically Ethan is about to stab Y/n but she quickly says she is pregnant then you can do whatever you want to.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆(𝐒): angst, mentions of dying, mentions of pregnancy, 

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 1,655

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: Ethan Landry x fem!Reader    

𝐀/𝐍: Hope you enjoy it love! I never fully watched the whole series, but I’ve definitely have seen that particular scene. I love Victoria Pedretti with my whole heart! lol 

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟐: (𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐘 𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆) 𝐨𝐫 (𝐒𝐀𝐃 𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆)

Fear struck every part of your body as you ran for your life. The old shrine of Ghostface trinkets and souvenirs like knives and wardrobes mocked you as you ran by the mannequins and display cases. You wouldn’t have imagined you’d be right where you were on this unlucky day. What should have been a fresh start after being almost butchered by Amber and Sam’s boyfriend Richie, well you didn’t expect to fight for your life once again, especially while at college.

You wanted a new year, a chance to leave all that was, behind you and move forward with your head held high. You wanted to fall in love…which you had. Now even that was ruined as you ran from the one person you let in. Someone you let love and cherish you in any way possible. Let him put you back together only to break you in pieces all over again. It just didn’t seem fair.

You yell out, panicking as you felt him grab you. You squirmed and wiggled in his grasp, kicking your feet out in the air as he lifted you up slightly then slammed you harshly on the ground. You gasp for air as you grow winded from the impact your back endured. You shake your head as the man you once knew became a stranger to you in mere seconds. You were scared as he stares down at you with a crazed look.

“No!” You scream as you push against his chest. “Ethan no, please!” You rasp out. Tears blind sight you, causing your vision to be blurry.

He smirks lifting a knife above you. “Remember this?” He asks. “My dad got a hold of your file you know. I knew the second I read about you that I wanted to get to know you.” He reached down and brushed some stray hairs away from your hot and sweaty forehead. Your chest rises and falls rapidly. “You were stabbed right here…” He lifts the hem of your shirt, tapping against the scar you received. “With a blade, three times might I add. God the picture they took looked nasty, but boy am I a sucker for recreations.” He chuckles darkly. “What’s three more times huh?” He goes to move the knife closer to your side.

You start to panic again as he moves his right arm to the side, getting ready to drive it past your first layer of skin. You cry holding your hands out, hoping that would be enough to stop him from hurting you physically. You were emotionally damaged by this point. “Ethan stop! Stop, stop! Stop!”

“This is for Richie, for your bitch of friend Sam for killing him! For ruining our lives!” He exclaims harshly at you. You wince, then immediately blurt out the one thing you have been excited to tell him, yet scared to do. Now it just made this whole situation worse.

“Ethan-“ You cry out.

“I should have killed you-“

“I’m pregnant!” You yell out. Your head thumping back against the hard floor. Your hands gravitate towards your stomach holding it protectively. Your face was scrunched with how hard you cried. It hurt, everything just hurt. Ethan's hands freeze in midair. Dumbfounded by your confession. “Stop, stop, stop. I-I’m pregnant!”

“You’re fucking lying!” He accuses you.

“I-I’m not…I’m not I promise!” You shake your head. “Please! Please I’m pregnant!” One hand remains on your stomach while your left hand tiredly falls limp to your side. You relax back onto the floor, waiting for the inevitable to come. Waiting to meet your end at the hands of the man you grew to love with your whole heart.

“Look at me,” Ethan instructs you to do. Your eyes open up slowly. The life drained from them as you stare up at him. The fight in you was gone. You didn’t wanna keep doing this anymore. “No, I–“ He shakes his head. He can’t wrap his head around it. His brows burrow in confusion. “Y-You’re lying!” He tears up.

“I promise you…” Another tear slips down your cheek. “I promise. I wanted to tell you…but everything turned to shit. I didn’t think you’d be one of them…” You sniffle. “It was a little over two weeks before we attended the Halloween party. You took us to your dorm.” You watch his face relax as he remembers. “I-I didn’t get my period at the time of the party when I should have…so I took a test. Three actually. All positive….” You begin to whimper as you look at the knife he’s lost his grip on. “You can go ahead and kill me if that’s what you want, I won’t be mad at you.” You offer a sad smile. “But I would’ve really liked the idea of us raising a kid together. I wanted a future you with you. I still do surprisingly.” You nod sure of yourself. “I-I won’t be mad. I’m at peace with my thoughts of you Ethan.” Ethan watched as your right hand slid down to your side this time. “M-My life rests in your hands now…”

The faint scream of the rest of the party echoed throughout the theater. He lifts his head looks around then drags you up into a sitting position with him.

“I’m gonna hide you.” He says more to himself than you as he helps you to your feet. It doesn’t take him long until he’s dragging you past the display cases. Pushing past the large screen protector sheet. You stumble over your feet trying to keep up with his pace.

“Ethan, what are you doing?” You ask him. Your head falls past your shoulder to glance behind you. You look forward again and collide into his back, you huff then feel yourself being dragged into a dark supply closet.

“Hiding you!” Ethan shuts the door behind you. The two of you are enveloped by darkness. The only light coming from the bottom of the door. Your breath hitches as a shadow moves past the door. You remain still as Ethan slowly reaches out for you. You still have your fingers looking around his own as you shift closer to each other.

You swallow your salvia down nervously as his hands shift up your arms to hold the sides of your face. Your breath shudders feeling him caress your skin slowly with his thumbs. You close your eyes as you lean into his touch. You open them back up, seeing a very faint outline of his face but the room was too dark, and turning on the light would be too risky. You had to rely on your sense of touch for now.

“Stay…” You quietly plead. “Just stay. Don’t go back out there.” You slide your hands up his arms now.

“I can’t…My dad, Quinn, they’ll know somethings up.” Ethan shakes his head even though you can’t see him do so. He leans forward and presses his head against yours. “I need you to stay in here okay? Don’t come out no matter what.”

“No–“ You begin to reject the idea.

“You need to stay.”

“No, you need to stay. Just stay.” You do your best to muffle your cries. “I have this feeling. I just feel it, okay! Once you step out the door, you won’t come back. I need you! Don’t leave me!” You breathe out harshly. “Please…” You whimper as he presses his lips to yours. You instantly move yours against his. Wanting to savor the touch of him, the feel of his skin against your fingertips, the way his hands held you with such care. You wanted it all to last, but when did anything good in your life ever truly last? The harsh reality was that it didn’t. Everything was always too good to be true. “Ethan no…” You pull away, crying out quietly. You wrap your hands around his neck, bringing his head down to touch yours.

“I’ll be back.”

“No, you won’t.” You try to control your heavy breathing.

“I will. You wanna know how I know I will.” You nod an answer. “Cause you given me something to want to stay alive for.” You feel his hands slide over your stomach. “I’m gonna be right back.” He whispers sweetly to you.

“They’re gonna kill you.” You voice your thoughts.

“Not unless I help Sam kill my dad.”

“She’ll still kill you. You stabbed Chad.” You remind him.

“Not anywhere serious. I didn’t hit any arteries or veins. He’s gonna be fine.” He brushed the thought off.

“You– You knew where to stab him?” Your voice goes quiet but sounds incredulous.

“I knew how to make you unconscious at the apartment…S’not important.” He winces, regretting opening his mouth.

“What the fuck Ethan!” You slap him over his shoulder. Your heart weighed down heavily. “God Anika…She didn’t deserve-“ You choke up, cutting yourself off. “What the fuck Ethan.”

“Nothing will fix what I’ve done okay? But I can make things right by saving them. It’s the least I can do now.” He sighs. “Just stay here. Do not come out!” He says firmly.

“If you don’t come back I’m gonna kill you…” Your empty threat makes him chuckle solemnly.

“See you in a bit okay.”

“Ethan.” Your voice trembles.

“I’ll be back. Promise.” He leans in after feeling for your cheek again with his hands and leaves a kiss on your skin sweetly. He slowly opens the door. The faint light entered through, casting a yellow highlight on his face. You catch his warm eyes for a second. He drinks in all the little details and characteristics that make you who you are. That makes him love you wholeheartedly. “I love you.” He offers a sad smile then slips past the open gap. The soft click of the door closing behind him felt like a gunshot to the chest. You just knew. You knew…he wouldn’t be coming back.

#ethan landry #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry imagine #ethan landry imagines #ethan landry oneshot #ethan landry x fem!reader #scream x reader #scream vi #my gif #writings by juls