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Three Years, Six Months, Fifteen Days by Stendec_CS_59
Fandoms: 垂涎 | ABO Desire (TV 2025)
28 Jun 2026
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Summary
When Gao Tu left, Shen Wenlang fell apart.
After he ruins little Peanut’s one-hundred day celebration and is kicked out of yet another therapist’s office, Sheng Shaoyou and Hua Yong resort to drastic measures to help the man pull himself back together.
It’s difficult to help somebody who doesn’t want to be helped. As they say, you can’t push a cow’s head down unless it wants to drink. Still, you can provide the water.
“Shit,” Sheng Shaoyou said, pushing the stroller forward with one hand, his phone to his ear in the other. “I’m sorry - It’s an emergency shareholder meeting and Hua Yong is in Country P. Can you watch Peanut for a few hours?”
Shen Wenlang looked up from his latte. He looked down at the baby sleeping in the stroller. He looked up again at Sheng Shaoyou and frowned.
“Are you fucking kidding me?”
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Marrying Fukuzawa Yukichi had been your dream come true. Both of you agreed to waste no time starting a family. However, after two years go by and the pregnancy tests stubbornly refuse to turn positive, Yosano informs you that it would be best to seek out other options. Neither of you feel enthusiastic about the stress and cost of IVF, an anonymous sperm donor seems cold and impersonal, and adoption is a last resort.
Fortunately for the two of you, the Armed Detective Agency (and their partners) are willing to pitch in and help out... the old-fashioned way.
Everybody is aged up 5 years in this fic, which will be updated slowly as the mood strikes me.
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The end of the world fucking blows. Honestly, it couldn’t possibly get any worse.
And then it does when Chuuya’s stupid upstairs neighbor crashes through the ceiling of his shitty apartment with a noose around his neck, the other end tethered to a cheap chandelier and a hunk of drywall.
“Who the fuck are you?” Chuuya gasped, kicking at the gangly heap of a man atop the wreckage of his coffee table ghostly with plaster dust.
“Osamu Dazai.” The man offered his hand amiably, ignoring the horrified expression on the redhead’s face.
Chuuya shrank away from the hand as if it was roadkill. “Well… get the FUCK out of my apartment, Osamu Dazai,” he spat, recoiling onto his couch.
Turns out the end of the world is a slow burn, accompanied by a soundtrack of oldies and Frank Sinatra.
And of course there is only one bed.
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Satyriasis: an archaic term for male hypersexuality, usually brought on by past trauma.
You're called to pick Dazai up from a night club and end up getting the saddest blowjob of your life.
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The Strange Case of Doctor Mori Ogai by Stendec_CS_59
Fandoms: 文豪ストレイドッグス | Bungou Stray Dogs
25 Jan 2026
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Tokyo, late Meiji. A young woman imprisoned for crimes against a child wishes to make her confession to you.
It is not a confession of guilt, but of innocence - a true account of what transpired during her time as a servant in the household of Doctor Mori Ogai.
I’m really testing the “archive” part of AO3. Slow updates. I just want to stash these on AO3.
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JJBA: Nude Bomb! (Holiday Edition) by Stendec_CS_59
Fandoms: ジョジョの奇妙な冒険 | JoJo no Kimyou na Bouken | JoJo's Bizarre Adventure
22 Dec 2025
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Christmas is in peril when a mysterious terrorist reveals his stand, the Nude Bomb, during a United Nations conference. His demand? For the Speedwagon Foundation to erase the Wham! song “Last Christmas” from existence or he’ll make everybody’s clothes fall off during the Morioh-cho Radio Non-denominational Mid-Winter Holiday Celebration of Lights and Togetherness Parade.
Can Jotaro pull together a diverse band of characters from across the various JJBA Parts and different AUs to stop the Nude Bomb before he strikes again? Will they save Christmas? Can a stand be named after a movie? Is it lame to write a fic summary in the form of questions? And why is Jonathan a neko-femboy?
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Being born an Alpha should have opened many doors. Being an S-tier should have flung them wide. But when you’d presented as an occult Alpha female, those doors had slammed shut. As an Alpha unable to impregnate anybody you are regarded with suspicion and whispered pity.
No matter. Turning bitterness into sweetness, you make an extraordinary living for yourself through your ability to overcome other Alphas: a sexual practice that could be described as a mild, temporary bitching. It’s strictly taboo, of course, but you are discreet, professional, and the service you provide is generally safe.
Your latest client, however, is concealing a key piece of information: He’s already well into the process of being bitched. Who, or what, could be powerful enough to do such a thing to an S-tier Alpha like Sheng Shaoyou? You watch in helpless horror as he writhes feverishly in your arms, his trembling hand outstretched towards his phone:
“Hua Yong…”
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Gifted porn is sweeping the underbelly of the web. Some insist it’s fake -- the product of clever special effects meant to feed morbid appetites. An internet myth, like Slenderman or the Backrooms. Others claim it’s absolutely real. Still others object to the exploitative, often violent nature of the found-footage-quality videos.
Whatever the truth is, one of the most unusual subjects of Gifted porn is The Floating Boy, a mysterious figure who appears to be able to defy gravity… although only at the moment of climax.
When Dazai chances into a shady bath house near his shipping container late one night he meets an intriguing young man… who he quickly learns is hiding a terrible secret.
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Dazai Osamu, the boss of the Port Mafia, has a deadly fetish. One he wants you to indulge him in.
“Squeeze here,” he whispers, tilting his head back, tilting his hips up beneath yours on the couch. His voice is unnaturally calm as he places one of your hands behind his slender neck and presses the palm of your other below his adam’s apple just so. Your thumb and middle finger rest on either side of his trachea. His heartbeat thrums steadily beneath your grip and you adjust, hesitating, the soft bandages rumpling beneath your fingers as you stroke that pulse and those vertebrae.
“Squeeze hard.” He is staring up at you with one eye that is flat and cold. Like a fish’s, on a bed of ice in the market. There is no distinction between pupil and iris, you realize. He places both hands on your shoulders and exhales. “You’ll know to stop when my hands fall away.”
You hesitate, eyes fastened to his.
And then you squeeze.
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Six months have passed since the Vampire Infection Outbreak and the world has returned to normal: war, famine, natural disasters and pestilence. With the 24-hour news cycle in the palms of our hands, sometimes it really does seem like the Biblical End Times is upon us.
When Japan is rocked by a series of random suicide attacks carried out by an unknown doomsday cult, the ADA is tapped to discover the identity of its leader. The only problem is that Ranpo’s ultra-deduction has concluded that there IS no leader. The assignment seems futile…
...until Sigma awakens, setting into motion events that will threaten not just the existence of the ADA, but the entire world.
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This is a very, very loose sequel to “Set Free in the House of the Dead,” but reading that fic (which is explicit Reader/Fyodor) isn’t necessary.
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Unnamed Criminal Ability User. That’s what everybody knew me as. Everybody except for Dazai. He knew me as Maddie.
Oh, and I’ve seen Ango’s file on me: that I was once known as the world's greatest thief. Not sure about “world’s greatest” but… sure. Whatever Dazai told them. Truth is, Dazai told them a lot of things about me that weren’t quite accurate. Those eight confidential documents I stole from a country's government? It was way more than eight. Oh, and I can also stop time for much longer than a few seconds. But Dazai told me not to let anybody know that – not even Ango – and I trusted Dazai. Okay maybe trust isn’t the right word. I fell for him, okay?
What’s it like to be sprung on a guy so bad you’ll do anything for him? Even die for him?
Don’t ask me, I wouldn’t know. I’ve never died before. Not really.
This is the story of the Unknown Criminal Ability user, aka “the cat girl.”
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There Are No Other Clouds by Stendec_CS_59
Fandoms: 天官赐福 - 墨香铜臭 | Tiān Guān Cì Fú - Mòxiāng Tóngxiù, 天官赐福 | Heaven Official's Blessing (Cartoon), 天官赐福 | Heaven Official's Blessing (Webcomic)
22 Mar 2025
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Ghost rut time! This is my imagining of what happened in *that* chapter after it faded to black. So yes, it’s 7k words of smut:
When Hua Cheng flattened Xie Lian’s palm against his lips and licked along the length of it, from wrist to fingertips, Xie Lian nearly fainted. The small amount of ghost-soothing cinnabar on his fingers had been useless – like tossing a teacup of water at a raging bonfire. Xie Lian’s eyes began to droop and roll back as pleasure threatened to consume him. Thinking was incredibly difficult. He must do something soon or they’d both burn in the conflagration. What was wrong with his San Lang? Why had the cinnabar had no effect whatsoever?
With a flash of intuition he pressed two fingers to Hua Cheng’s forehead. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, casting a quick spell that would allow him to observe the constitution of the other man’s soul.
What Xie Lian saw stunned him. His heart throbbed once, and his gut roiled in a very complicated way:
Hua Cheng was almost entirely Po, or animal soul, with all the Hun soul absent.
"San Lang," he whispered. "Please be patient with me. I'm going to try to help you but... I have no idea what I'm doing!"
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Corporate retreat time! The ADA has booked its annual winter holiday getaway at a snowy cabin high in the mountains.
Unfortunately, the reservation Kunikida made is non-refundable due to it being Christmas, and they’re double-booked with… the Port Mafia.
Both sides decide to make the best of it, and wintery fun is being had by all until tragedy strikes: a member of the PM is found unconscious in a snowy grove, the victim of a cowardly attack!
A hasty inquisition is called to determine the perpetrator of this despicable act. As different versions of the events and conflicting testimony is given, Mori and Fukuzawa must decide what is truth, who is lying… and what really transpired in that snowy grove.
Wan!
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I Hope You and the Cat Are Well by Stendec_CS_59
Fandoms: Arcane: League of Legends (Cartoon 2021)
27 Dec 2024
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Summary
Viktor and Jayce are partners, and they are in love.
Viktor is asexual. Jayce is not.
A story about soulmates, sexuality and string theory.
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The drunk young man at the end of the sushi bar catches your eye immediately. Tsushima, he says his name is. He says waitresses can’t resist him and you believe it. After all, YOU can't resist him. Something about the loneliness hidden behind his charming smile draws you to him, quickly losing track of how many sakes you’ve served him. You have a soft spot for lost and lonely things. And being somewhat responsible for his inebriated state here you are, walking him back to his apartment.
“So r’we gonna fuck or what,” he slurs, stopping beneath the dim light of the red and white paper lanterns and sagging into you, clumsily pawing at your breasts through your thin white work shirt. The alcohol on his breath curls warmly against your neck in the cool night air, catching in the warm shaggy brown hair that he brushes against your cheek like a drunken, insistent cat.
“I… I don’t think that’s a good idea,” you mumble, although your body screams otherwise.
Reader unknowingly meets Dazai Osamu on the run from the Port Mafia. Soon after she also meets a mysterious Japanese businessman… who takes an unusual interest in Reader and her strange relationship with the lost young man.
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This business trip to Tokyo to meet with the Hunting Dogs is turning out to be boring as hell. You're hard up, you haven't gotten laid ONCE since your plane touched down and to top it all off the head guy -- some Fukuchi asshole -- is running late.
Fortunately, while stealing a creampuff from the next door conference room you bump into a silver fox. You're not usually into older men but…
Trigger warning: Fukuchi Ōchi.
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Major Milizé always calls this time of night. This time, after signing off, she calls back to speak with Shinei over a private comm.
Maybe it's wrong of her to be so familiar with the Spearhead Squadron's leader, but Annette has helped her reconfigure her Para-RAID with a feature that enables not just communication, but sensation. And she is eager to connect.
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I just discovered this series. I'm an anime-only so far, and this is my first fic in this fandom, so please be kind with any errors.
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A Bedroom at the End of the Universe by Stendec_CS_59
Fandoms: 文豪ストレイドッグス | Bungou Stray Dogs
30 Jul 2024
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Fyodor was alive. And this time Nikolai would not let him go, no. He’d make him his own.
One piece at a time, if needed.
He’d start with his legs.
(A love story)
This fic was created for the Fyodor Ship Week 2024 collection.
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If the Silence Takes You (then I hope it takes me too) by Stendec_CS_59
Fandoms: 文豪ストレイドッグス | Bungou Stray Dogs
23 May 2024
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Just beautiful Odango smut and romance. The smut will be in Chapter 2.
Excerpt:
Ango swallowed thickly, eyes dropping shut and trembling fingers again finding the key. He rested his hand there, struggling to bring words to the forefront through his confused whirl of emotions.
Oda’s presence behind him was solid, warm and unmistakable.
Ango finally bowed his head in defeat.
“Nobody can know,” he whispered.
Oda took another step closer.
“It’s okay,” he replied, simply, his voice low and husky in the darkness. “I get the feeling you’re good at keeping secrets. Aren’t you, Ango?”
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Winter, 1942. Stalingrad is no longer a city but a hellscape of destruction. By day clouds of smoke rise from the rubble into the frigid sky, burning and blinding. When night comes it falls scorching and howling, an inferno of cold. Slow victory is measured not by meters, city blocks or even buildings but by bodies.
Dark is the night and you are not sleeping. Neither is he. In the gloom of the shelled warehouse basement, a long narrow room lit only by dimmed lanterns and the occasional meager campfire, his eyes find yours.
A stranger to the squad, but that’s not unusual in the chaos that is Stalingrad. His hair is not close-cropped but dark and lank, falling across a handsome, pale face in which odd magenta eyes glow. His clothing, too, is not standard-issue Red Army but tall soft boots and a dark, fur-trimmed cape. Again, nothing unusual. Here, men do what it takes to keep warm in the brutal conditions.
“Your hat,” he whispers from across the narrow corridor where you are propped on opposite sides. He touches his head, drawing your attention to the white ushanka you are wearing. “It looks very warm.”
Note: update is art by Snow!