#this one. might have gotten out of hand a little bit

[alastor-simp]

Slow Dance With You - Sylus x Fem Reader

♦︎ 𝙿𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜- 𝚂𝚢𝚕𝚞𝚜 𝚡 𝙵𝚎𝚖𝚊𝚕𝚎 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

♦︎ 𝙶𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎- 𝙵𝚕𝚞𝚏𝚏 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚁𝚘𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎

♦𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚜- 𝚂𝚢𝚕𝚞𝚜 𝚡 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛, 𝚛𝚘𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎, 𝚍𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚜𝚕𝚘𝚠 𝚍𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎, 𝙵𝚕𝚞𝚏𝚏, 𝚛𝚘𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚌 𝚏𝚕𝚞𝚏𝚏, 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚒𝚊𝚗𝚘, 𝚖𝚞𝚜𝚒𝚌 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚛𝚎𝚍, 𝚜𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚛𝚎𝚍, 𝙽109 𝚉𝚘𝚗𝚎, 𝙻𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙳𝚎𝚎𝚙𝚜𝚙𝚊𝚌𝚎, 𝙰𝚍𝚟𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚃𝚒𝚖𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚏𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎𝚜

♦𝙽𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚜- 𝙶𝚘𝚝 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚕𝚢 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚍𝚘 𝚊 𝚏𝚊𝚗𝚏𝚒𝚌 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚂𝚢𝚕𝚞𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚜𝚕𝚘𝚠 𝚍𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚒𝚗𝚐. 𝙸 𝚊𝚍𝚘𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖 𝚍𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚗 𝚂𝚢𝚕𝚞𝚜 𝙼𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 2, 𝚜𝚘 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚛𝚎𝚍𝚘 𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚊 𝚍𝚒𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚜𝚌𝚎𝚗𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚘. 𝙴𝚗𝚓𝚘𝚢 :)

♦𝙲𝚛𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚝- 𝚍𝚒𝚟𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚛 -> @adornedwithlight

"Yawnnnnn." Opening your mouth like a fish, you sounded out your boredom, as your body laid against the large leather couch in the living room. You were in the Onychinus base, located in the N109 zone, having been invited by Sylus himself to converse with one another, only for him to be called away for an important call, leaving you alone for a bit. It saddened you that he had to go, but you knew he was an important man, being the leader and all. The two of you had gotten closer ever since your first encounter in the N109 zone, with him erasing the man in front of you with his Evol. The way about him irked you, since you believed he was the cause for the explosion that killed your loved ones. It soon came to be that he was never the cause, making you feel extremely horrible for pinning it on him, the extreme hate for him evaporating without a trace.

He had declared the two of you as "besties", but over time, something else had sprouted between the both of you. His sassy remarks and cute nicknames were growing on you, face becoming flushed whenever he called you "kitten." His demeanor around you had changed as well, his once cold eyes filled with warmth whenever you were around, devilish smirk morphing into a kind smile that could melt your heart. The relationship between the two of you was becoming complicated, not so much friends but no lovers either, it frustrated you, wanting to become closer with him, yet fearing it at the same time since the both of you were enemies.

Stretching your legs, you removed yourself from the couch, heading towards the door, leading to the long hallway. You might as well go explore a bit, since sitting around doing nothing was getting tiring. There were many rooms in the base, each reflecting a lot of Sylus's personality, one room containing a gym where he worked out, another room filled with vinyls showing his love for music. Picking a random door, you grasped the handle, opening it slowly to peak inside.

The room was dimly lit, only source of light coming from the window and the lamp that was lit. Books were layered in stacks, on the floor and in the shelves. Various instruments were in random places in the room, spotting a violin and a beautiful elegant piano in the center

Stepping inside, you took the whole room in, until your eyes locked back onto the piano. It was crafted perfectly, figuring Sylus must have spent a fortune for a piano like this. Lifting up the board, fingers traced along the keys, pressing down to allow a note to echo throughout the whole room. It has been a while since you have ever played a piano before, remembering how much you enjoyed it when you were little. Sitting on the chair, you took a deep breath, hands hovering over the keys, until they pressed down, a soothing melody playing out. As you carried on playing, your body swayed with the music, mouth opening to sing.

🎶���𝘭𝘰𝘸 𝘥𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘺𝘰𝘶

𝘐 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘢 𝘴𝘭𝘰𝘸 𝘥𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘺𝘰𝘶

𝘐 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘰𝘺𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩

𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘮𝘰𝘰𝘵𝘩, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘐 𝘨𝘰𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘭𝘶𝘦𝘴

𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘢 𝘴𝘭𝘰𝘸 𝘥𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘺𝘰𝘶

𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘢 𝘴𝘭𝘰𝘸 𝘥𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘺𝘰𝘶

𝘐 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘢 𝘴𝘭𝘰𝘸 𝘥𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘺𝘰𝘶

𝘞𝘩𝘺 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦?

𝘐'𝘷𝘦 𝘨𝘰𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘴 𝘐'𝘥 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘷e

𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘢 𝘴𝘭𝘰𝘸 𝘥𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘺𝘰𝘶🎶

Finishing the last note, your song was finished, leaving you pleased. Sounds of clapping came from behind you, making you turn, seeing a tall figure standing at the door. It was Sylus leaning against the door frame, crimson eyes gazing at you while wearing his signature smirk. "Didn't know you could sing, kitten." Flustered that he had caught you, you turned away from him. "You never asked." You said, hands motioning to close the top board, covering the piano keys again. Footsteps thudded behind you, indicating that Sylus was walking closer. A hand had motioned to grab your chin, allowing him to observe you. "Acting shy now, are we?" He was teasing you, making you put your hands on his chest, pushing him back. "Stop messing with me." You said, eyes glaring at him. Appearing apologetic, Sylus patted your head, "I'm not teasing you, sweetie. Your singing was incredibly angelic. I quite enjoyed it" His eyes soften, hand going from your chin to trace your cheek. Blushing harder, you dropped your head down, feeling more embarrassed then before, "Thanks."

Sylus chuckled, his cold eyes staring at you warmly, something not many got to see when they met the Onychinus leader. Recalling the lyrics of the song, he had an important question to ask you. "So? Who is it?" Eyeing him with confusion, you pondered what he meant. Noticing your confusion, Sylus decided to expand his question, "Who is the person you want to slow dance with, sweetie?" Oh, that's what he meant, the only answer you could provide him was a shrug, saying the song wasn't really dedicated to anyone, just something you came up with in the moment. Sylus, removing his hands from you, stood straight, eyes looking down at you. "Well, do you want to?" Sylus bowed, hand held in front of you, waiting for you to take it.

His actions stunned you, not expecting him to do this. "You want to slow dance? With me?" Sylus narrowed his eyes, "Do you see someone else here in the room, sweetie? Besides, it wouldn't be the first time we danced." Recalling the mission from the past, you remembered that you had slowed dance before, but that was part of the mission, wasn't it. "That was different back then...um..." Unable to word how you felt, you casted your eyes down. His narrow eyes soften, "Well this won't be like back then, and I want to dance with you." Looking back at him, you saw how tender his gaze was, showcasing how sincere he was. Pushing back the feelings of unease, you agreed, placing your hand in his.

Smiling further, Sylus pulled you closer, hand placed against your waist, face getting closer to his chest. You flushed, but kept it cool, motioning one of your hands to his shoulder. His Evol had appeared, flowing to a record player that was on the other side of the room, allowing soft classical music to play. The both of you then began to sway to the rhythm, yet you were a bit tense, not being a really good dancer, afraid you would step on his shoes. "Heh, relax kitten. It's just you and me here." Sylus gave you a sincere smile, hoping it would be enough to calm you down. "Sorry....I don't want to step on your shoes." You looked down below, monitoring your feet, hoping they wouldn't step on top of his. Stopping for a second, he inched his face closer, forehead pressing against yours. "My shoes are not important right now. The only thing important is the both of us dancing together."

Your heart felt like it was gonna beat out of its chest, butterflies fluttering inside your stomach. Only he could make you feel like this. Smiling up at Sylus, you nuzzled your forehead back against his, causing him to chuckle. The dancing continued, the tense feelings disappearing without a trace. Leaning in, you placed your head against his chest, wanting to be closer to him, allowing you to hear his heartbeat. Sylus didn't utter a word at your actions, smiling more at how adorable you were, his hand on your waist pulling you closer. After awhile, the record player had ceased playing, yet the two of you remained in the same position, slow dancing to your heart's content, never wanting it to end

-END-

[damnfeelings09]

VALENTINE'S DAY COUNTDOWN

First date - Shadow the Hedghog

Pairing: Shadow the hedghog x female reader Tags: fluff, comfort, awkward crush. Word count: 750. Prompt: you and Shadow have been friends for a while, and although he has a massive crush on you and is dying to have you as more than a friend he's not willing to take that step (secretly he's very insecure okay) after a little encouragement from Sonic he asked you out he never imagined how it would end. Notes: First valentine's day prompt and what better way to start it than with my eternal love Shadow. I'm love/romance depraved so these promts will be fluff in its cheesiest and purest form (like melting chocolate in a super sweet cotton candy ice cream with a Cherry on top kind of sickeningly sweet) This time I'll try a different style so let me know if you like it.

Shadow wasn't afraid of anything. He was the ultimate lifeform after all, then… why did his pulse quicken every time he was near you? Why did he feel his palms get wet each time you smiled at him? Why did his fight or flight response activated every time you were there?

Shadow wasn't afraid of anything. But maybe, maybe he was afraid of what he felt for you, afraid that he would become addicted to the feeling of you caressing his cheek, afraid that he couldn't go on without seeing the sparkle in your eyes every day, afraid of getting used to the warmth of your hand on his, afraid that if he said a word of what he felt he would lose you, because let's be honest, who could love a monster like him?

He was unsure, and every time that happened he went to Rouge, however the bat was not at home, so he went to his second best worst option. Sonic

Sonic with his usual cocky grin as Shadow explained the situation. Sonic, the same Sonic that he punched every chance he got just to release some stress and because he enjoyed it, the same Sonic that screwed up time and time again running away from Amy was the one that Shadow had decided to approach for romantic advice.

“Just don't think too much about it Shads” Sonic had said ”She likes you, trust me”

“Easier said than done”

“Well, it's either that or you'll be stuck with ' what could’ve been' forever.”

Honestly, Sonic hadn't been much help, but at least he had planted the seed of doubt in Shadow. What would be the worst that could happen if he kept his feelings to himself? You would probably find someone, that someone would take your hand, receive your caresses, taste your lips and you would forget about him, leaving him aside, alone, unloved.

No. Shadow wouldn't let that happen, the little bit of love he got from you was too addictive and he wasn't about to let anyone else have it. He had made up his mind and although the chances of you feeling the same were low they still weren't 0. He still had no idea how he managed to do it, well maybe he had a little idea. He knew he had walked you home, he knew he had said a few embarrassing things as you walked together making you laugh, what he didn't know was where he had gotten the courage to ask you out when you were about to enter your house.

“See you tomorrow Shadow,” you said waving goodbye to him.

“Wait” he said almost in a whisper. You turned, shaking your head to the side “I... ah...” he scratched his head.

“Is everything okay?”

“I wanted to... I wanted to ask you out.”

“Sure! You know I love going out with you Shadow”

“As... in a date”

“Oh...” oh? What did that mean, it wasn't the yes he was expecting but it wasn't a denial either, it was as if he had surprised you, as if you didn't imagine he could have feelings for-

“I'd love to” you cut off his thought bringing him back to earth. The smile on your face showed shyness but the pink blush on your cheeks and the loud thumping of your heart confirmed to Shadow that his feelings were reciprocated. “I... I'd like you for a while, just didn't know of you might... like me too” you said, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear meeting your gaze with Shadow's causing him to blush. If this were a cartoon his eyes would have turned into hearts and little blue birds would fly around his head.

“I've been feeling like this for a while too, just...”

“It’s okay” you smiled “I'll see you tomorrow for our date” you walked up to him and deposited a kiss on his cheek, waving your fingers in a goodbye motion and closing the door behind you. Little did he know that you slid down the door frame, hand on your heart triyng to stop the rush in your body.

Shadow stood outside your door, his hand holding the very spot where your lips had touched his cheek trying to capture the warmth of your touch, his stomach felt funny as if something was churning inside him just remembering your kiss. It was then that he realized that maybe allowing himself to be happy wasn't such a bad thing.

[curatedcurios1ty]

Shigaraki x reader (quirkless au maybe?)

—

You need to go pee.

Well, you’ve needed to pee for the last 10 minutes or so, but you’re comfortable and don’t want to move. You’re sure your companion doesn’t want you to move either.

You’re sitting in tomura’s lap in front of his computer. He’s playing…something. Not a game where he has to play with other people, he’s so calm for that. (also, he doesn’t like when you’re in the room when he gets mad) Yet the game is one that requires somewhat of his full attention. As in, for the last half hour the only sounds filling the room were the click-clacks of the keyboard, and tomura’s breathing above your head. It was peaceful. It was nice.

But right now, you really need to pee.

“I gotta go pee.”

.

.

Okay maybe your voice came out a little low form lack of use, but he had to have heard you. Right? You clear your throat to try again. You get interrupted before you can say anything.

“I heard you.”

Well that’s…good? So why isn’t he moving? His arms are currently on either side of you, boxing you into his embrace. You’re going to need him to move so you can get up.

“Are you gonna let get up?”

“No. Can’t.” He doesn’t even have the decency to try and sound sorry.

“Why not?” You shift a little in his lap, and you swear he moves his legs to trap you in further.

“I’m focused.” He sounds bored of the conversation already. That’s fine, you’re just going to have to get creative

“How are you focused if you can’t see?.”

“The hell does that mea-“ You reach somewhere above your head, aiming to cover his eyes. Immediately hands grab at yours and you take his moment of confusion to slide off his lap. Skipping your way towards sweet relief, you ignore the sounds of grumbling behind you.

—

When you come back to the bedroom you notice something is…different. Maybe his chair has moved? Or actually, it might be a little chilly in here? You take a good look at tomura from your place at the door and- ah, there it is.

Tomura’s got his headphones on.

He’s wearing some big wired ones. Which is weird because the game wasn’t making any noise. You remember him saying that the character’s voices had gotten on his nerves. And that he didn’t really care for the soundtrack, so there was no need to have the volume on at all. So why are his headphones on?

.

Oh my god. You might have the dramatic boyfriend in the world.

You tell him as much when you step back into the bedroom, standing over him as he tries to ignore you. His fingers don’t even twitch the slightest bit like they do whenever you approach him while he’s focused on a game.

Scratch that. You definitely have the most dramatic boyfriend in the world.

You poke at his shoulder, and then you poke at it again, and then again. You keep at it knowing he can’t pretend to not notice you forever.

As if reading your mind tomura turns to you. He moves one side of his headphones from off his ear.

“What do you want?” And you know he’s supposed to be serious right now, but he just looks so pitiful with his stupid headphones on. You can’t help the smile that creeps grin on your face. Your reply starts with a cackle.

“I’m soooo sorry, can I pleaseee sit in your lap again?” You bat your lashes at him a ridiculous amount of times, grin as wide as ever. Tomura’s gaze flits between them before rolling his eyes and letting out a long sigh. (drama queen!) He doesn’t even dignify you with a response as he reaches out to pull you back to where you belong.

As you settle in your gaze falls towards the side of the desktop.

The headphone jack is empty.

[wilson-laineyd]

i think that little thing in the inside of her head that is supposed to say 'hey jump off that' and then stops her before she does might be a bit faulty haha that name is absolutely beautiful! i assume i'm not takin' a huge leap by saying that one of her parents is Scottish? i mean, it's pretty obvious. hippie truly is a spoiled little pup, she's great as far as dogs go. she's been my best friend for the last few years and i simply don't know what i'd do without her. i am perfectly happy to help with this zoo but i will definitely try to sway you from not. but i can't believe that you'd have more time on your hands than i do with the little one. i think it would be adorable for her to grow up in the real life 'we bought a zoo' and i'm sure she would just love it. so screw the talkin' you out of it, i'm one hundred percent on your side of making a zoo! it is so peaceful. the horses really do know how to live life truly. i have gotten to the point where i don't even direct them anywhere i just kinda let them roam wherever they want. they know the way home and they always find the most peaceful places to hang out. i try hard not to pick a favorite horse but i love my Lola. she's beautiful black with a really pretty white stripe down her nose. she's fantastic well, i can't say that i've written one while riding but i can say that on a ride i may have come up with a few of the lyrics for wild horses and wild flowers in one of the places Lola may have brought me.

Weeble is the perfect description, I swear Lennox has this built-in chaos radar that activates the second she’s near an edge. It’s like she knows exactly when to test my reflexes. And thank you! We wanted a Scottish name that felt strong but sweet, so we went with Lennox Skye, and so far, she’s living up to it, tiny but full of fire. You and your dog having living room dance parties is officially the image getting me through today. That dog has no idea how lucky he is. And listen, I totally get it, if I didn’t have the time to actually care for them, I’d have to fight my impulses, too. I respect your self-control because my zoo plans are getting dangerously close to reality. Sam’s holding the line, but I can tell his resolve is weakening. I love that your version of unwinding involves horses. That sounds like the ultimate reset button, just you, the open air, and the rhythm of the ride. There’s something so freeing about it, I bet. Do you have a favorite horse, or is that like asking a parent to pick a favorite kid? Also, please tell me you’ve written a song while riding before, because that just feels like the ultimate country music power move.

[oopsiedaisiesbaby]

my mind is stuck on thicker Bucky after the war, he’s been home, Gale’s been feeding him well, taking care of him. he’s got pudge on his tummy, his tits have a bit of bounce to them, his arms are a little thicker, he’s got a bubble butt that fills out his slacks more, but he does yard work constantly.

just something to keep him busy because if he’s not busy then he’s going stir crazy. so cue Gale watching from their back porch as John just tosses wood around, digging up plots for their garden, wood working old benches he’s found.

but his tummy keeps flashing from his shirt, his biceps are bulging, he’s got sweat trickling down his throat making his white shirt a little see through. and Gale is just foaming at the mouth the entire time.

which is how John finds himself being pinned down before he can go shower. sweat tracks being licked off his throat, hands groping at his chest, and he is not a man that is gonna complain.

when Gale gets his arms pushed up, shirt tangling and pinning him down slightly. just to bury his nose in John’s armpit, licking across the hair there before he’s moving his mouth over to bite a mark right by John’s nipple.

that mark is glaring up at Gale which then prompts him to suck more, leading down to John’s tummy. where he sucks an almost belt of them in, and before he can even get John’s pants off. his lovable golden retriever man who has been moaning, panting, and begging so nicely the entire time, cums in his pants.

Gale just has to roll him over and open him up, so he can push in because John is begging him for it. he’s telling him to, he isn’t too sensitive, he’ll be alright, just wants to make his boy feel good too.

and if it’s watching John’s little bubble butt bouncing back at him as he thrusts in that gets Gale to cum so hard he almost blacks out. well…that’s for them to know, and John to flaunt about later on.

-🦕

xx

I am always here for thick Bucky 👏

I know Callum said he was a little bit chunky in MOTA and I argue he wasn’t chunky enough 😈 Jkjk it’s his body, but seriously… that was not chunky lol Enter at your own risk we’ve got thoughts on size, sweat, armpits, and more ❤️

But give me a Gale that watches every bite John takes with a little flutter of excitement and pride because he made it himself and he’s nourishing his partner who’s still trying to recover from the stalag a year out. Then one day, John’s innocently working on the yard and takes his singlet off while Gale’s sipping lemonade on the porch like a pretty housewife and suddenly finds himself pinned in the grass with a half feral Gale on top of him.

All he can do is sit there and take it as Gale laps up the sweat between his pecs before burying his face between them with a groan, fingers digging into the new give of John’s waist. He doesn’t linger there long though, he gets his hands running up the soft underside of John’s biceps, nails scraping along and leaving marks in their wake, forcing his hands above his head as he nuzzles into John’s armpit, moaning and licking for all he’s worth and John swears he’s gonna come in his pants.

Before he can even do anything about it, like try and buck up against Gale where he’s cradled between John’s legs, Gale is moving again, biting and sucking a path down John’s chest, paying special attention to the little roll his pants are digging into to. Gale practically worships the spot, groaning as he works at it, fingers digging in mercilessly into John’s thick thighs.

He wants to say something, because he’s a little embarrassed about how much he’s let himself go but Gale’s cooking has just gotten so good and it honestly seems like Gale’s having a religious experience. John can’t be blamed for coming in his pants.

When Gale finally pulls away, face flushed and eyes half crazed, John goes willing when he tells him to roll over. He might whine about it a little bit but he can’t help but to shut up when Gale calls him a good boy.

As his reward, John gets Gale diving in and eating him out despite how sweaty and gross he is, putting his oral fixation to good use before getting railed so hard and rough he’s almost a little worried he won’t be able to sit. Gale fucked into him like a man possessed, one hand on his ass the whole time, smacking or kneading into the give of it while his other hand explored John’s body restlessly.

It takes them so long to recover, lying there in the grass, side by side, that the sun ends up directly overhead. John can only wheeze and wave Gale off when he springs up and declares he’s making fried chicken, biscuits, and mashed potatoes for dinner. John knows he’s gonna eat every single bite and not think twice about how it’ll settle on his body.

He wonders if it was a one off, brought on by him getting sweaty from yard work. Except, he wakes up the next morning to Gale riding him like he’s a galloping horse, fingers squeezing at his John’s pecs like they’re tits. John can deal with some tight clothes and a little extra jiggle if it means getting to see Gale like this. John’s belly is never free of hickies moving forward.

[yawchi]

BACK SUPPORT — M.O.

After hours at Onigiri Miya are always rather quiet.

It’s when all the employees clock out one by one, collect their things and finish up their duties before saying bye to the boss and heading out. And it’s when you always stop by to meet your boyfriend whenever you happen to be in the area during closing time.

(Which, granted, you find an excuse to be pretty frequently. But that’s not the point here).

The bell of the front door jingles as you let yourself in, meeting the last straggler of your boyfriend’s establishment just on their way out. He’s young, working to pay his way through college, Osamu told you. He has kind eyes and a sweet smile, a good kid.

“Hi,” he nods, moves to hold the door open as you finish walking through, points a thumb behind him. “Boss is in the back restocking, he wouldn’t let me stay to help.”

“Figures,” you laugh, shaking your head to yourself. “He’s a bit stubborn.”

And the kid chuckles like he doesn’t want to agree because it’s his boss, but the knowing smile speaks volumes anyways. He gives a quick bow of his head, mutters a polite goodnight, then the bell’s jingling again and you’re left alone in the front of your boyfriend’s restaurant.

You toss your keys onto the counter and push past the little waist high door with your hip to venture to the back of the restaurant. It’s pretty clean, save for where Osamu seems to have flung his hat off by the sink and there’s a familiar black apron pooled in the floor that looks to have fallen off its hook. You collect them both and smile to yourself as you clean up after him.

That’s when you hear it, as you swing by his office to put up the overlay part of his uniform—the slight muffled grunts coming from the storage room. Right, he’s restocking. Lucky you.

And if you were anyone else, you might be annoyed. Because the nights where Osamu stays behind by himself to restock can get long—like right now, with the time pushing midnight when he’s normally snuggled up in your bed by eleven—but, you must argue, it does have its perks. Like him bringing home extra leftovers from the day to make it up to you for being late. Or him giving you sweet sleepy kisses as he plops himself on top of you as soon as he walks in.

Or, and this is arguably your favorite one, you getting to witness the sight of him like this.

Your teeth dig into the corner of your lip as you lean against the doorframe of the storage room, the grunts that lead you to him punching through the air again as you watch the muscles of Osamu’s back flex and release as he tosses a bag of rice under one of the shelves. His work shirt hugs him so nicely, tight across the broad expanse of his shoulders and snug around the definition of his arms. It gets a little baggy past the expanse of his chest, a little looser towards his waist, but it bunches up due to the back brace he has strapped on.

You remember when he got it, albeit begrudgingly as he came home one day shy to show you what he picked up on his run to the store. The faint flush to his cheeks as he mumbled about how he can’t move as easily as he used to, that all those years of volleyball aren’t doing him any good now. You’d just kissed his cheek, told him it wasn’t even a big deal, anything that would keep him from hurting himself.

And as you eye the way the brace squeezes around his waist, does well to accentuate the slight cinch there that’s gotten just a bit wider over the years but is still very nice, you can’t even attempt to fight off the slight swirl in your gut.

Oh yes, lucky you indeed.

“Woo,” you whistle as he straightens up to swipe his forehead with the back of his hand, chewing your cheek as he looks over his shoulder at you.

“Oh, baby.” And he’s breathless, and it shouldn’t sound so fucking attractive, as he turns to walk towards you. He places his hands on your waist, drops his head for a kiss and hums against your lips. “Shouldn’t you be in bed? It’s late. Ya get cranky past eleven.”

“I get even crankier when my boyfriend isn’t in bed with me,” you retort, but there’s no malice in the confinement of the storage room, no tilt to your words. You kiss him again. “But getting to walk in on you like this isn’t so bad.”

Osamu laughs into your mouth, pulling back slightly when you try to loop your arms around his neck. He catches your wrist, kisses your palm.

“Ah, don’t get too close. I’m all sweaty,” he offers up with an apologetic grin, then tips his head with a scrunch of his nose when you roll your eyes. “I just have a few more bags to move, then we can get ya home and in bed.”

“Yeah,” you hum, but you don’t pull away. Instead you trail your hand down his chest, try to bite back your smirk at the way your boyfriend shivers a bit, until your fingertips reach the edge of the tight brace wrapped around his waist. “Guess I’ll just sit back and enjoy the view, hm?”

You give the brace a tug, do your best to swallow the giggle that threatens to slip at Osamu’s over exaggerated groan. His fingers give your waist a squeeze, a signature Miya pout being thrown in your direction.

“Yer evil,” he sulks, stares at you like he’s fighting some terrible inner battle, then grumbles under his breath as he surges forward to kiss you again. “Ya said you won’t pay attention to it.”

“No I said I wouldn’t make fun,” you correct, blow out a light laugh as Osamu pulls you flush against him while peppering kisses down your throat. “Not paying attention to it would be a crime when it makes you look so good.”

His lips pause on your throat. You swear you can feel the flush burning from his cheeks straight into your neck. You thread your fingers into the damp buzz of his undercut, run your nails over his scalp.

“It’s for back support,” he mumbles, low and soft. And maybe you are evil, truly, because the retort is quick from your lips.

“I could use some back support.”

Osamu stops breathing, you press into him a bit more, then suddenly you’re being moved over and pushed back onto the checklist desk by the wall. You can’t help the fit of giggles you fall into as your boyfriend nips at your neck, his fingers squeezing your sides in a mixture to tickle and also to drag you closer all while he berates you.

“Oh you’re gonna need back support by the time I get done with ya,” he chuckles, moves up to kiss you even as his lips curl in a grin and soil the action. He grabs one of your thighs, hooks your leg around his waist playfully. “So mean, comin’ in and distracting me when I’m trying to get work done. I’m busy, yanno. And you just wanna tease and—“

“Sir? Sorry, I think I left my apartment keys by the—“

Both yours and Osamu’s eyes widen, heads snapping to the doorway of the storage room. There stands the sweet, sweet boy from earlier, face going from pale to red to about seven different emotions all at once as he takes in the scene. Then he slaps a hand over his eyes almost comically, turns on his heel to retreat, shouting out sorry’s every step of the way as you and your boyfriend stare after him appalled.

Osamu scrambles after him, you scurry off the desk, and both of you internally curse that damn back brace and the power it holds over your heads.

likes & reblogs appreciated. old repost.

[moonmaiden1996]

Hi!!! I was curious do you have an headcanons for either 🩵Fukaboshi 🔱 or 🩷Katakuris🍩 idea if the perfect partner?

(I know they are basically the same character in a different font. Protective big brother, fangs, giant, loyal to their family, wields a trident, and a few other things. But they both are just two of my favorite characters)

Okay...I have to admit I had to go back to the manga and read bits of it for these two and boy was I glad I did. These men can be any woman/mans fantasy.... I may have gotten a little steamy with this one....Let me know what you think.

Request are still open! I have added Disney's Rivals and Sakamoto's Day to my list because they are amazing.....

Fukaboshi’s Ideal Partner 🔱

1. A Partner Who Matches His Kindness

Fukaboshi is a protector at heart. He’s strong and commanding when he needs to be, but at his core, he is gentle, always looking out for others. He’s drawn to a partner who shares that compassion—someone who treats others with kindness, who listens, who isn’t afraid to stand up for what’s right.

Nothing makes him fall harder than seeing you care for his people, watching you play with the children of Fishman Island, offering comfort to those in need. He swears his heart stops when you place a hand over his and say, “Let’s protect this place together.”

2. Late-Night Stargazing

Fukaboshi loves the quiet moments—lying on the sandy shore, looking up at the stars while the waves lap at the beach. He pulls you close, your head resting against his chest, his arm wrapped around you.

"Do you ever wonder if someone up there is looking back at us?" he muses, voice low and thoughtful. When you turn to look at him, the starlight reflects in his deep blue eyes, making them even more mesmerizing.

If you fall asleep on him, he doesn’t move an inch—he just smiles and lets you rest, his fingers tracing soothing patterns along your back.

3. Someone Who Can Handle the Depths (and Him)

Fukaboshi is a big man in every sense—tall, broad, and built like a warrior-prince. His ideal partner? Someone who isn’t intimidated by his sheer size, both in and out of the water. He wants a lover who embraces the feeling of being held, pressed against his strong chest, drowning in his affection just as much as they might drown in the ocean.

And speaking of the ocean—imagine clinging to him as he takes you on an exhilarating ride through the currents, his powerful strokes cutting through the water as he pulls you along, holding you so close you can feel the slow, deep rumble of his laughter. The pressure of the depths is nothing compared to the pressure of his grip when he finally gets you alone.

"You trust me, don’t you?" His voice is husky in your ear, his webbed fingers tracing the curve of your thigh as he floats just above you. "Let me take care of you… let me make you feel weightless in every way.”

4. Gentle Yet Dominant

He may be a prince, noble and kind, but when he wants something—when he wants you—he’s relentless. His kisses start slow, savoring every sigh, every trembling exhale, but once he has you fully under him, fully his? He devours.

His webbed hands, surprisingly warm, slide over your skin, exploring every inch as if you’re more precious than any treasure in the deep. His trident-wielding strength is matched only by his patience—he loves the build-up, watching you squirm as he takes his sweet time.

"I want to hear you beg, love." His voice is low, teasing, his sharp fangs grazing your collarbone as he presses you into soft silk sheets. "Tell me how badly you need me… and maybe I'll stop teasing."

But let’s be real—he never stops teasing.

5. Riding Sea Creatures (or Just Riding Him)

Fukaboshi is an expert rider—whether it’s guiding massive sea creatures through the currents or having you ride him with the same confidence. He enjoys watching you take control, hands pressed against his strong chest, thighs shaking as you move at your own pace.

His deep, approving groans vibrate against your skin, his hands gripping your waist, helping you keep balance. He loves when you take charge—when you lean down, kiss him breathless, and show him just how much you want him.

"You're beautiful like this," he murmurs, breath hitching as you roll your hips just right. His gaze darkens, pupils dilating as his fingers tighten their grip. "But don’t think I’ll let you have all the fun."

And the next moment? You're beneath him, drowning in his slow, deliberate thrusts, gasping as the prince of the sea claims you in every possible way.

Katakuri’s Ideal Partner 🍩

1. A Love That’s Simple but Meaningful

Katakuri isn’t one for grand romantic gestures. He shows love in quiet ways—by leaving a fresh cup of tea by your bedside in the morning, by slipping a hand around your waist when you least expect it, by making sure you always get the best of whatever’s available (even if it means sacrificing his own portion).

If he really likes you, you might find little surprises—handmade snacks, flowers he definitely didn’t spend an hour picking, small gifts he leaves without taking credit.

"I just… thought you’d like it," he mutters, looking away as if he’s not the strongest warrior in the world completely flustered by your gratitude.

2. Watching Over You While You Sleep

Katakuri doesn’t sleep much. When he does, it’s usually brief and restless, always ready to protect his family at a moment’s notice. But when you’re in his life? He finds himself staying awake for a different reason—just to watch you sleep.

It’s not in a creepy way, of course. He just… likes knowing you’re safe. That you trust him enough to let your guard down around him. He traces a gentle hand over your cheek, brushes a stray hair from your face, and sighs, feeling something settle deep in his chest.

"You have no idea what you do to me," he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper.

If you wake up and catch him staring, he’ll turn away, muttering something about “just making sure you were comfortable.” But if you pull him closer and mumble, “Go to sleep, Kat,” he actually listens… because in that moment, he finally feels at peace.

3.The One Who Sees Through His Mask

Katakuri is the type of man who watches you before he lets you in. His ideal partner? Someone who sees past his intimidating exterior—the towering frame, the sharp fangs, the cold stare—and recognizes the man beneath.

At first, he’s cautious, reserved, his touches controlled. But once he realizes you truly want him—when he catches the way your eyes linger on his lips, when your fingers brush against his bare skin with something other than fear—his restraint shatters.

"You don’t have to hold back with me," you whisper against his lips, and that’s all it takes.

One moment, you’re standing; the next, you’re pinned against the nearest surface, your wrists held above your head as Katakuri devours your mouth like a man starved.

"You have no idea what you do to me," he growls against your skin, his fangs grazing just enough to make you gasp. "But you’re about to find out."

4. Dominant but Soft for You

Katakuri is a man of control. He’s used to being the strongest in the room, used to people fearing him. But you? You make him weak.

When he’s with you, he’s still dominant, still the commanding, powerful force that keeps his family safe. But behind closed doors, when it’s just the two of you? He lets himself feel.

He buries his face in your neck, inhaling the scent of your skin as he grinds against you, his rough hands skimming down your sides. He groans when you thread your fingers through his hair, his entire body shivering at the sensation.

"You’re going to ruin me, sweetheart," he murmurs, voice thick with need. And yet, despite the hunger in his eyes, he takes his time, savoring every single second as if he’s memorizing you.

5. Absolute Worship

Katakuri may be intimidating, but in the bedroom? He worships his partner. He’s the type to cherish every inch of your body, pressing open-mouthed kisses along your stomach, your thighs, watching you squirm beneath him.

"Let me taste you." The words are more command than request, his strong hands gripping your hips as he lowers himself, his breath hot against your core. "I want to hear you scream my name."

He doesn’t just want you to feel good—he wants you wrecked, trembling, breathless, incapable of thinking about anyone but him. And once he’s finally inside you, slow and deep, his forehead pressed against yours, his groans vibrating through your very bones—he stays there, savoring the heat, the tightness, the way you cling to him.

"Mine," he breathes, voice raw with emotion as he moves, deep and deliberate, watching your every reaction. "You're mine."

And when you finally reach your climax, shattering around him, he follows soon after, moaning your name as he fills you completely. But he's not done.

"Hope you're not too tired, love," he murmurs, that rare smirk playing on his lips as he rolls his hips again, drawing out another whimper from your already sensitive body. "Because I’m not nearly satisfied yet."

Final Thoughts

Fukaboshi = Deep, slow-burning passion, teasing dominance, pure love, intimacy, and absolute devotion. Katakuri = Relentless hunger, unwavering control, protective, slow but intense love-making, and complete worship of his partner.

[inkyquince]

Taking His Prize

characters. Wren (Degrees of Lewdity)

cw. fem reader, forced eye contact, dirty talk, tit fucking, mentions about anxiety around virginity loss.

notes. A lovely flash commission! Wanted Wren to go insane over a chubby fem reader and that was fuckin' FUN!

You were playing badly. Well, that was unfair. At this stage of knowing you but not quite knowing you, not wholly, you proved yourself to be quite adept at most things. Dancing at Darryl’s club,  picking the odd pocket, making friends with the least reputable men in town and somehow surviving with a sparkling reputation. Of course, it depended on who was asked. For some you’re the sweet orphan that makes the best of what she’s got. Others might say you're a delicious cut of meat, deeply fuckable, even though no one has gotten a taste. As far as Wren knows. 

As for his own opinion? No one has made him harder quicker than you have. Should be embarrassing, like a school boy seeing the curve of a budding breast for the first time. In his defence, he was three shots deep and has been idly pawed at by another stripper. Poor girl never stood a chance when you started dancing. She cooed at his cock straining to attention against his trousers but she had nothing to do with it. Your tits were spilling out of your bra, your soft thighs squeezed the pole, all the while maintaining perfect balance in your heels. Waving her off, instead he crooked his finger at you, calling you down. 

It was the only lap dance Wren could really tattoo to his brain. 

Rolling your hips, your tits pressed against his chest, humping your crotch against his. He could feel the heat. 

But that was months ago and ever since then he made it a part of his schedule to meet you again and again, even to have a quick drink at the bar before your shift. Wren loved to tease you, hoping to slip you into bed with him with the right amount of pretty words, but you just smiled  and waved him off. Your reputation preceded you perfectly. Sweet, clever and deeply virginal. 

And now you are here. And you were losing. Which was odd. 

Wren wasn’t complaining by any long shot, not at all. Your shoes were the first to go, then your socks. He was irked a bit at the realisation you were wearing mittens but another part of him purred. Smart little thing. Then the jacket, the over-shirt, your trousers, leaving you in the most lovely stockings, underwear, tank top and bra. He could feel himself getting stiff just at the sight. He’d had seen you in less clothing that this countless times, grabbing your ass and pressing you down to grind against him, even if you only allowed it after he pressed his crumpled notes down your panties first but just the sight of your lovely tits, your soft thighs, your adorable fuckin’ tummy had him excited. 

Maybe more so since you had… Agreed, quite readily, to the rules of the game. 

You win, he has to hand over two of his paychecks and cause a commotion around Remy’s place, which definitely would fuck him up in the farmer’s books for weeks. But, it would be worth it. Because if he wins, he gets to fuck you. 

The promised virgin of the Town. All for him. 

Were the stakes for you so high to do this? Or maybe you had a cute little crush on him and you would lie awake at night, fingers deep in your sticky cunt and whine out his name… Probably not. 

But there were worse men to be… Broken in by. 

So Wren bided his time at the table, losing his shirt on purpose, he swears. He could tell you didn’t mind the show, all in all. 

“C’mon, Doll.” He stretched, making sure that your eye would be drawn to his broad shoulders and chest. “You’ve been clinging to those cards like they’ll change if you show enough tit.” 

You kicked him under the table and he chuckled, reaching down with his hand to grab your ankle and give it a squeeze. You didn’t rip from his grip, which he liked. Instead he lifted your heel and placed it between his knees on the edge of the chair. Safe and sound. 

You laid down your hand with a sigh after a beat. 

“I know, I know,” You rolled your eyes, before gripping the edges of your tank top and pulling it over your head.  “Everything beats double two’s.” 

Wren’s grin didn’t falter, it just froze for a moment before somehow growing wider. You cheating little bitch. His own gaze flickered to his cards. A two and a seven, not good but still would beat your feeble cards. But it just happened that his two of hearts matched your two of clubs. Both pitchblack. You were losing on purpose. 

“Conniving little…” He murmured, low, under his breath. 

You still heard it though and froze under his hungry gaze, leaning forward to drop your shirt by your shoes. It gave him a beautiful view of your full tits, just about spilling out of your bra, the fabric unable to cover anymore of the cleavage. 

“Unless I accidentally used the pack I used to cheat at blackjack with Remy, I don’t think there can be two pairs of blackened hearts, can there?” 

Your lips parted. Pink tongue flicked against your bottom teeth. 

“Really? Can’t believe you fucked our game up like this.” You spoke once more after a beat. “For shame. That must lose you your trousers at least.” 

Wren chuckled, unable to fight back the laughter that came from witnessing your smart ass-ery. He pretended to play along, popping open the top button of his jeans before pausing, pressing his index finger against his chin in faux-puzzlement. 

“That is an excellent point,” He hummed. “Except… Remy confiscated that pack when he figured it out. In fact, I’m pretty sure he fed them to a horse he didn’t really like.” 

You froze up again, smug little smile sliding off your face for just a moment. 

“Then… You win by default?” You ventured, thumb hooking into the edge of  your patterned stocking. 

“Not just that. I demand compensation for my pride and my shaken belief in your honesty.” 

You had already learned what men, tricky, powerful, greedy men, usually wanted as “re-compensation”. A broken bone, half a thousand pounds more in rent, forced to do tasks too demeaning for words. Yet this… This was something new. 

Wren’s fat cock slowly gliding between your breasts, still stuffed into your bra, excessively lubed up, with the head constantly nearly nudging your bottom lip with each stroke. One hand cupping your breast, the other tucked inside to tug and twist at your nipple. You could feel his full balls, dragging against your chest with each thrust. But you weren’t allowed to look down, watch the hypnotising spectacle of him using your tits to get him off. No, he made sure you knew he wanted you to keep looking directly at him, his lips slightly parted, exhaling slowly. 

The sound was wet, sloppy, and deeply indecent. But wasn’t this a part of the reason you picked him? Not just because it would have been safe, good. A proper man to lose your virginity wouldn't be violent, or cruel, like it would have been if it had gone to a beast like Bailey, or Whitney. But because it would be so fucking good. You could tell from his demeanour, his flirting, the way he looked at you. If you wanted just safe, just alright, then you’d have picked Robin, or asked Darryl for a one night stand. 

His thrusts increased in tempo, precum smearing along your skin. With each nudge, Wren groaned and you couldn’t help but moan as an answer, from just the sensation. 

“Always wanted to fuck these pretty tits.” He huffed out, taking a moment to grin and lightly slap your bra, making your breasts bounce a bit. 

You didn’t even get a chance to whine, or tell him off before he slipped his cock free from your garment, using his other hand to rip the fabric open, revealing your chest to him finally. He ducked his head, pulling you in close by your waist to latch his mouth onto your nipple, spending a good moment teasing and sucking.The sensation was dizzying, unbearably so, but also so warm, so hot, so good that when he pulled away soon after, you couldn’t help but whine. 

“Nuh uh, none of that.” Wren gripped your thighs and lifted you onto the table, scattering both his legitimate cards and your counterfeit pack to the floor. His cock pressed against the wet spot on your underwear, squishing indecently. “Not when I’m about to fuck your virginity from you.”  

[dandelion-wings]

Re-reading current WIPs leads to re-reading old stuff no longer in progress, which lead me today to the old stuff from @theabysscomeshome and I's Harbinger AU. And it occurred to me that, while I doubt I'm ever fixing up or finishing the outdated stuff enough to ever put this on AO3 at this point, I could go ahead and post the one complete piece from it that's not completely jossed, and that I still like, here. >>

For reference, the Harbinger AU is essentially a Venti-Tsarita roleswap (with a side of Jean-Childe roleswap but that doesn't show up at all in here), wherein the Knights of Favonius essentially fill the Fatui's role.

---

The great tower in front of them is in disrepair, shattered and half-broken, but the cubical mechanism for opening the door still works once the hilichurls out front have been cleared away. As the great door grinds open, tilted sideways at an awkward angle, a cheerful voice rings out from behind them both.

"Oh, it's Sir Diluc!"

Diluc spins around, his hand dropping to the hilt of his claymore. Lumine, noting his narrowed eyes and tight jaw, follows suit. In front of them both is a young woman, or older girl, in a leather traveling outfit with bright red accents that stand out against the swirling snow--including a headband that looks like nothing so much as a pair of rabbit ears. She pulls up the goggles that had been over her eyes and grins at them.

"Hello! I haven't met you before. Who are you?"

"Outrider," Diluc says, his tone guarded, though he doesn't yet draw his claymore. "You're a long way from Mondstadt."

"So are you! It's so nice to meet you here. I haven't seen you in ages." The girl skips forward as if she hasn't noticed Diluc's tension or the hand tightening further around his claymore's hilt. "Sir Kaeya and Master Jean will be so glad to know you're all right!"

"*Don't*," Diluc growls.

Those names Lumine recognizes. "Diluc, who is this?"

"Outrider Amber of the Knights of Favonius. Which makes her very far from her operational area."

"Oh, that's expanded a little bit since you left, Sir Diluc." She veers away from him to bound smiling over to Lumine. "I still haven't gotten your name."

"My name is Lumine," she says, fighting the urge to reach for the hand that Amber holds out to her. The girl's cheerful friendliness is at sharp odds with how tensely Diluc watches her. Also, if she's more recently from Mondstadt... Lumine has to ask. "Have you met a boy who looks like me on your travels from Mondstadt? I'm looking for my brother."

Amber looks her up and down, then shakes her head, an apologetic look on her face. "No, I'm sorry, I haven't. But I can put up some posters for you once I get back! Uh... if you can tell me a place to contact you...."

"Don't bother," Diluc says.

"I don't have any way for you to contact me, since I'm on the road. But I appreciate the offer." Lumine looks over at Diluc, trying to judge if it's *really* necessary to keep her hand on her sword. "I thought the Knights of Favonius were dangerous? But Amber's willing to put up posters, even if there's no point."

"It's not her I'm worried about. It's who might come behind her. Is that Lawrence woman in Snezhnaya too?"

"Don't call her that! At least call her Sir Eula!" Amber stamps a foot and glares at him. "And I can't tell you her movements, but she's not with me. I'm here because Sir Kaeya's too much of a layabout to do his own intelligence missions."

"Hey, should you be telling us that?" Paimon asks. She's drifted forward over Lumine's shoulder, her curiosity drawing her in.

"You're with Sir Diluc, so it's fine. He's a little grumpy, but he's not a bad guy."

Diluc sighs and straightens up, finally releasing his claymore. "She wouldn't tell us if she thought we could interfere with it. Which means she won't tell us the details, either."

"Nope!" Amber beams at him. "I'm so lucky I saw you guys in the snow. Your hair really stands out, Sir Diluc, and you always wear that black coat, so I thought it must be you. Even though it's not part of the mission, Sir Kaeya will be glad to know you're still going strong. And that you made a friend."

"Hmmph." Diluc crosses his arms over his chest. "And I'm sure it will help him track my movements."

"Duh! He worries about you, you know." She looks past them at the open door to the tower, then turns to Lumine. "If you're going in there, do you want some help? I have the time, and I wouldn't mind getting out of the cold for a while. Snezhnaya is *freezing*. Besides, I can tell Sir Diluc all about how Master Jean and Sir Kaeya are doing."

Lumine glances over at Sir Diluc. He looks a little annoyed, but not alarmed, and he doesn't try to refuse for her. This is her mission, given by the Tsaritsa, even if he's been helping her on it. And she would like to learn a little more about these Knights of Favonius from someone who doesn't have so obvious a grudge. It seems somehow appropriate to do so in pursuit of an Anemoculus.

"All right," Lumine says. "You can help."

As Lumine turns back towards the gaping black shadow of the doorway, she hears Amber cheer behind her. "Awesome! I can't wait to show you Baron Bunny."

***

Baron Bunny is a giant plush, it turns out. It explodes, which is a bit unexpected, but after the brief surprise of it in the first fight Lumine quickly gets used to it. Amber isn't nearly as strong a fighter as Diluc, though she also has a Pyro Vision, but just the presence of her flaring heat in battle seems to make the Melt effect that Lumine has gotten used to setting up with Diluc more effective. Overall, she's a much better party member than Diluc's reaction had led Lumine to expect.

A quarter of the way up the tower, they run into what seems to be a dead end. Lumine stands at the bottom of a cavernous space, made more so by the lingering edges of floors and walls that have crumbled away above. Even if she stands on the highest of the broken pillars, the next partially-intact floor is dozens of feet over her head. There's a lift mechanism in the corner, but it lies dormant and still.

"Those torches," Diluc says, holding his flaming claymore high to light the space. "That sort are usually connected to the mechanisms in these ruins. If I can reach them, I can light them and see what they'll do. It's getting there that's the problem."

Lumine looks around and sees what he means. The tilting and crumbling of the tower have put most of them in nearly-unaccessible spots. That one he might be able to reach by jumping off this pillar if she jumps far enough, and if he can squeeze through that rubble there one is half-buried behind it... but the ones higher on the walls will be harder to reach. Her Cryo constructs melt so quickly under Diluc's feet. The two that, due to the tilt of the tower, are practically on the ceiling? She has no idea about those.

"Oh, is that all? Leave it to me," Amber chirps from the base of the pillar. Lumine crouches down and watches her unsling her bow. She takes careful aim at each of the torches, the ends of her arrows bursting into flame, and lights each of them with one shot, even the half-buried one that Lumine wouldn't have thought she could reach.

"Thank you," Lumine says, smiling at her, as the lift jerks to life and begins to slowly grind its way up the wall. "We couldn't have done that without you."

"Glad to help." Amber assures her, dashing up the slant of the wall towards the lift. "Last one up is a rotten egg!"

Lumine jumps off the pillar to hit the wall right behind her. As she scrambles up onto the lift she sees Diluc uncross his arms, brace himself, and leap to follow.

***

They make it most of the rest of the way up before they reach another such space, this one with great crumbled gaps in the outer walls as well. No lift or torches are apparent this time. The cold winds from outside the tower rip through the sides of the tower, leaving piled-up drifts of snow behind. Lumine, Diluc, and Amber crouch in the lowest corner, Paimon floating low and using Lumine as a windbreak.

"Those are blowing harder than I'd have thought from looking outside," Diluc says. "There must be Anemo energy leaking down from above."

"I bet we could get up there using those winds," Amber says, eyeing the roaring flurries overhead in speculation.

"With the winds?" Lumine asks.

"Yeah, using our wind gliders!" Amber reaches back and pats the narrow wood-and-metal box on her back that Lumine had thought was some kind of travel case. "Sir Diluc, haven't you shown Lumine how to glide yet?"

"We haven't been in a large enough town to find one for sale. Or to get mine repaired," he says expressionlessly.

"What, your wind glider is broken? Let me take a look at it," Amber begs, reaching out towards him like she wants to grab for something. "I bet I can fix it. And I have a spare with me I could lend to Lumine, so we can show her how to glide! You know there won't be a better way up."

Diluc stares at her for a moment more, calculating, then reaches into his travel pack and pulls out another such case and holds it out. Amber snatches it from him with a squeal of excitement. "The left wing won't extend fully," he tells her as she flips it over and starts undoing catches on the back.

"Oh, that's because your pivot gears are bent. This will take me a few minutes, so maybe we should sit down and rest while I fix it? I haven't eaten in ages."

"A lunch break sounds like a *great* idea!" Paimon seconds enthusiastically. "Lumine, do you have more of that cabbage-potato borscht?"

"No, I'm all out," Lumine says regretfully to Paimon. Her stomach rumbles at the memory of the delicious soup. "Diluc, what about you?"

"I have potatoes."

"Nothing else?"

"Potatoes are a complete meal on their own."

"Not without butter and cream," Amber protests, looking up from the articulating wing made of metal joins and wooden feathers that she's stretched out over her knees. "I did some hunting earlier, and I still have plenty of meat, plus some cheese. You could make a pile-'em-up! You were always really good at that one."

"Oh!" Paimon comes zooming up to hover level with Diluc's face, bobbing in the air in front of him. "Juicy meat and melty cheese and potatoes! That sounds perfect to Paimon!"

Diluc bats irritably at Paimon until she drifts further away. "It won't be the same without lamp grass for seasoning."

"True," Amber says. "I guess I could make my signature Outrider's champion steak when I'm done fixing your wind glider."

"...I'll make a pile-'em-up without the lamp grass."

***

The Hydro Abyss Mage, shell frozen by Lumine's Cryo and melted into nothingness by Diluc's phoenix and Amber's arrows, tumbles squealing to the floor. Diluc lunges forward and drops down on top of it, pinning it beneath his knees, one hand on its shoulder, the other holding his claymore across its throat.

"The key to the pillar," he snaps at it. "How do we get it open?"

"Like I'm going to tell you," the Abyss Mage chitters, its voice high and cracking and full of vicious glee. "You'll never get through- aaah! That hurts!"

Diluc lets the flame die. "Tell us, or it's going to hurt a lot more."

"Favonians who can't even figure out the order of the elemental monuments on your own- aaah! Ow! Okay! The first, third and fifth have to be lit at the same time, while the other two are left alone, or they all go out! Aaaaah, I'm not lying!"

With a jerk of his claymore, Diluc slices through the Abyss Mage's neck, and it dissolves into powdery black smoke. Then he rises and turns to study the elemental monuments arranged around the pillar in which the Anemoculus is said to be encased. The way they're set, she can tell his phoenix can't hit all three at once without lighting the two in between.

"You could get those two," Lumine suggests, pointing to the two on the end. The curving way the monuments have been arranged in front of the pillar means that there's a straight line between them that wouldn't touch the others. "And Amber can shoot the third at the same time."

"Sounds like a plan to me!" Amber pulls an arrow from her bow and sets it to the string, looking at Lumine with a smile. "Just give me a signal."

"Fine," Diluc says shortly, and walks to where he needs to stand to line up the phoenix. He, too, looks at Lumine for a signal.

Lumine takes a couple of steps back, just in case, and raises a hand. "Fire!" she calls, snapping it down.

Amber's arrow flies and flashes, the phoenix blazes forward, and the three monuments light up, Pyro sigils shining above them as veins of elemental energy run glowing down them like lava down a volcano's side. There's a click from the pillar, then a grinding of stone, and a portion of the front slides away. The Anemoculus--a blue-green orb framed with irregular, feathery wing-like protrusions, with a more stylized wing-like symbol shining from within the orb--rotates slowly within. She can feel the Anemo energy radiating off of it, generating a cool breeze that flows through the room.

Slowly, entranced by the beauty of the elemental object, Lumine starts forward. She reaches a hand out towards it as she passes the monument that Amber had lit.

But Amber is faster. She dashes forward and thrusts her hand into the pillar, snatching the Anemoculus from its prison. As she turns about, Lumine unthinkingly reaches towards her, expecting to be handed it. Amber just pulls her goggles down and bounces backwards, using the tilt of the floor to speed her movement.

"Sorry, Lumine. I wish I didn't have to do this, you seem really nice. But Sir Kaeya says Master Jean needs these, and even if he's too lazy to get them himself, I can't let you have one. I really hope I didn't mess things up for you too much. Good luck finding your brother! Sir Diluc, I'll tell everyone you said hi!"

As Diluc lunges for her, face twisted in fury, hands outstretched, she flings herself through the arching, open window behind her and into the freezing winds below. Amber twists about in the air, clutching the Anemoculus to her chest with one hand and pulling the string on her wind glider with the other. Wings snap out behind her and she catches the wind, soaring away and down with expert speed.

"After her!" Lumine shouts at Diluc, charging towards the same window, reaching for the release of the glider Amber had told her to keep as she goes. She can hear his feet on the floor behind her. Paimon, wailing in alarm, grabs Lumine's arm and clutches on tight as they launch.

The winds battering at her out here are entirely different from those they'd flown on in the tower. While they aren't as strong, they also aren't nearly as directed. With only her minimal experience, Lumine can't manage to steer herself after Amber, who is dwindling into a spiraling red-brown dot in the distance. Diluc has more experience with wind gliders, but he seems to be having just as much trouble--no, more, one wing, the supposedly fixed wing, stiff and unmoving even when the other one flexes. He's caught by a particularly strong buffet and tumbles as something in the unmoving wing, unable to flex, instead snaps.

With Amber already out of reach, Lumine turns and dives as best she can after Diluc instead. He doesn't fall at deadly speed, but it's still a good clip, and he hits the ground below with a crash sufficient to throw up snow in a blinding cloud all around. Lumine wipes it from her eyes as she lands, then wades through the waist-deep drifts until she finds Diluc fumbling out of them, snow turning to water wherever he's touched and then freezing right back into ice.

All around them, the wind is still swirling, carrying even more snow than before. Lumine looks up at the slate-grey sky that's all she's ever seen in Snezhnaya, searching for a darker blotch. "I think a blizzard may be coming on...."

"It's no blizzard." Finally making it to his feet and dusting off the worst of his snow from his clothes and hair, Diluc reaches again for his claymore as he peers out into the blinding flurries all around. This time he draws it, holding it in front of him, a thin line of flame dancing along the blade. "It's worse."

"What's worse?" Paimon asks, slowly letting go of Lumine's arm and floating up to peer over her shoulder.

Out of the white wall of snow, a figure appears, striding confidently towards them. A tall woman, clad in black and white with a blue cape swirling behind. Lumine is shivering in this even deeper chill, but she seems entirely untroubled. She's carrying a claymore that looks like it's been carved out of ice, held high and ready to swing, the flat resting on her shoulder.

"Diluc Ragnvindr," she says, staring haughtily at Diluc. Somehow the tilt of her chin makes it seem like she's looking down at him, even though he's the same height or taller. "How annoying."

"Sir Eula?" Lumine guesses, glancing at Diluc and then back at her.

"Yes. Sir Eula Lawrence, Captain of the Reconnaissance Company, and Fourth Harbinger of the Knights of Favonius, to be precise." She turns that disdainful look on Lumine. "Amber tells me you're... *nice*... so I will not take vengeance on this traitor here and now, in circumstances where you may get in the way. But if you threaten Amber or our mission, I will not hesitate to turn my blade upon you."

Lumine tenses, reaching for her sword, but Diluc reaches out and puts a hand on her shoulder. It's warm on Lumine's bare skin even through his still-wet glove. "This isn't the place to fight her," he says, low-voiced, frustration audible through his gritted teeth. "Report back to the Tsaritsa, and we'll work out our plan from there."

"Wise of you," Eula says. She stands there, claymore on her shoulder, not moving an inch, as she watches them walk away.

[arcadecarpetgay]

okay i may have gotten a little excited and what was supposed to be 100 words became 1.6k but i love this concept sm im giggling !!!

The first thing Arthur does when he wakes up is reach for his left wrist, thumb pressing into the base of it and feeling for a pulse. He thinks he might be lying on his side, but his temple throbs with a headache and vertigo has ripped his spatial awareness off-balance. Doesn’t matter.

“John?” he hisses, gripping his hand tighter. “John!”

Arthur, yes, I’m- I’m here. Are you okay?

He lets go of John’s hand, exhaling shakily. “I feel a, a bit like I've fallen down a flight of stairs, but I’m- in one piece. Are you?”

He only half-processes that there’s no use in asking if John is physically okay, but it’s become instinct at this point. Just in case.

I’m okay. Lift your head, Arthur, I need to see where we are.

“It smells familiar,” Arthur says, but obligingly props his elbow beneath him, grunting as he clambers to his feet. There are floorboards beneath his feet, and they aren’t dusty or splintering– the place feels well-kept and the air is permeated with warmth, something like a fire crackling nearby. It feels… lived in, a sense that is at once the blessed promise of life and the quiet terror of knowing that somebody is nearby. 

Oh, Arthur, John breathes, and Arthur is unable to tell whether the note in his voice is one of reverence or horror. He isn’t telling Arthur to run, though. Good start.

“What is it?” he says, keeping his voice low. “Where are we?”

John’s fingers brush over the back of Arthur’s. We’re– we’re in Noel’s apartment. All, all the technology’s back, the phone on the desk beside you is just like the one in your office. Arthur, it worked!

A breath shudders from Arthur’s lungs and he takes John’s hand in his own, dizzy with relief. “Thank Christ. We must be in his study, do- do you think he’s… he’s home?”

I… don’t know. Arthur, even if somehow he is, it… it might not be the same one. We may not be out of the woods just yet.

“Right, right. We’ll be careful.”

There’s a letter opener on Noel’s desk, here–

 John’s fingers untangle from Arthur’s, he hears the soft clink of metal, and then John’s pressing the sleek, cool handle into his palm. It steadies him, just a bit more, to have a weapon, even if it’s not exactly a gun. 

The lights aren’t on in this room, but I think that’s the kitchen past this doorway. The door’s half-closed, though, so I can’t… see straight through. Move a few steps to the right?

“Yes,” Arthur says softly, moving as John tells him– “If this is the same flat, that should–”

Hide.

Arthur hides. Without hesitation, he presses his back flat against the wall next to the door and goes as still as he can. He’s lucky he doesn’t knock anything over in his haste to get out of view, but he still hears John swear under his breath. 

“What is it? Who is it?” he breathes, heart hammering in his chest. 

Shh.

Arthur goes silent, swallowing and trying to listen over the sound of his own pulse. When he does, he hears… whistling. It’s slow, half distracted, and occasionally drowned out by the sound of running water, clanking dishes. They’re whistling soft enough that the sound isn’t as- as sharp, instead mostly breath, but it’s… recognisable. 

It’s a different tune than last time, but he’d know it anywhere. 

“No,” he whispers, a tremble on the edge of his voice. “How?” 

Shut up, Arthur, he’ll hear you! And I don’t know. I saw him die. 

Arthur listens closely, but he can’t get a sense for what’s going on. Collins continues whistling, the song looping back on itself as he rinses off dishes, and Arthur only has more questions. How is he alive, why is he in Noel’s flat? 

I suppose we can’t worry about that now. I don’t think he saw you, but… wait. Do you hear that?

Arthur nods, still holding his breath. There’s a second set of footsteps approaching from another room, one more person who might either notice that Arthur’s there, or decide they need to look for something in the study. He keeps holding himself perfectly still, biting the inside of his cheek when the other speaks aloud— 

“The West’s Awake?”

Arthur,  it’s Noel! He’s here!

Collins’ voice. “Meeting of the Waters.”

“S’lovely.”

There’s a sound like a cabinet being opened, the clinking of a mug, and then Noel tuts softly, clothes rustling. 

“Oh, doll, no need. I got ‘em.”

Another clink. “You treat me like a guest.”

Are they– what the fuck is going on?

Arthur doesn’t even have a guess. It’s definitely Noel and definitely Collins, but there’s no sardonic glee to Collins’ words and no bitter sneer in Noel’s– and crucially, they’re arguing over dishes. He stands in stunned silence, unable to process what he’s hearing. 

“Not that you’re a guest, s’that I’m still a host. It’s late, I’ll take care of it.”

A sigh. “Alright, officer, if you insist. But pass me that, will you?”

Arthur narrows his eyes at the darkness ahead of him, hearing a scrape like metal on wood, but he can’t get a picture in his mind. He readjusts his grip on the letter opener, barely daring to whisper to John. “Can you…?” 

No, I can’t see it, not unless you were to move into the doorway. Arthur, I… I don’t know what this is, but we should leave.

“They’re blocking the way out,” Arthur breathes. “No back door.”

I know, I know. Maybe the window…

  Another whistle cuts through the air, this time sharp and tuneless. The way you’d call a dog. “Here, boy— come on out, lad, I know you’re there.”

Arthur freezes.

“No use hiding, now. That letter opener can’t do much ‘gainst a cleaver, can it?”

Fuck.

He clenches his jaw so tightly his teeth ache, and his heart beats hard in the back of his throat.

Arthur, do we… do we run?

He wouldn’t be able to get the window open in time. Collins isn’t stupid, as helpful as it would be if he was. If there was a way to escape that didn’t involve severe bodily harm, he would have already accounted for it and blocked it off. He shakes his head slowly. 

Noel’s there. Maybe it’s a desperate, naive thing to rely on, considering everything else about the situation seems perfectly willing to catch Arthur off-guard, but he’s not seeing too many other options. If he can even just buy enough time to not be immediately slaughtered with piano wire, he’ll take it. 

He inches towards the doorway, gripping the letter opener as tightly as he can, like it’ll save him. Collins is right, of course. There isn’t much he can do with it. 

“Good lad. Just a couple more steps now,” Collins says. “Hide and seek’s over.”

Slowly, with John’s hand guiding along the inside wall, he approaches the doorway again. He takes a deep breath before stepping into view, pushing the door the rest of the way open with an obtrusive creak.

Both of them are staring at us. Noel looks like someone’s just hit him in the face. There’s… there’s still a gauze pad plastered to the side of his neck, and I can see shiny bits of scarred skin around the outside of it. He’s wearing an old, loose button up, and he’s holding a mug with something written on it, I can’t see what it says– and the Butcher is grinning.

“Well. Imagine that.”

Arthur lets out a breath through his teeth. “Bit hypocritical to be surprised we aren’t dead, isn’t it, Collins?”

“No, lad, that’s not what’s surprised me,” Collins says, and metal clatters as he presumably– hopefully– tosses aside the meat cleaver. “All that time ago, I thought, good lord, surely no man in history has or will look as haggard as the one I’ve got here. And now look at you. You’ve outdone yourself.”

Only then does Arthur remember that he’s definitely still covered in dirt and dried blood, run ragged with his time in the past, wearing a rough wool tunic and even scrawnier with malnutrition. He starts to snap something in return, but John cuts him off. 

Noel is moving past the Butcher, putting himself between us and him. He- he’s touched the Butcher’s shoulder, just briefly.

“Play nice, doll. Arthur, is John there?”

Yes.

“Yes.”

“Where have you two been?”

Shit. Tell him we’ve been– away. Dead. England.

“Why is the Butcher in your home?” Arthur deflects.

Noel has turned to stare at the Butcher, his mouth half-open. The Butcher has his arms folded over his chest, and looks… amused. Expectant, maybe. Definitely not like he’s going to answer the questions himself. Noel’s glanced back at us.

“Dennis and I, we’ve… resolved some professional an’ personal differences.”

What?

“Is– is he holding you hostage?”

Collins laughs.

“You know what,” Noel says, cordially ignoring the outburst, “I think we both owe each other an explanation or two. How about we sit down and have a nice long chat about it, since you were kind enough to visit an’ all. Dennis, if  you could make him a coffee?”

Arthur blinks, stunned. “I…”

Arthur, I… maybe we’re about to be poisoned, but this might be– a good thing? We’re back in the right time and place, at least, and you could use a safe place to sleep. 

Arthur hasn’t slept on a proper mattress, or had a good cup of coffee in months. He hasn’t been in a properly heated house, or disinfected his wounds, or had a fully honest conversation with someone other than John in the same span of time. To be able to sit down and speak to someone familiar is a luxury he didn’t think he would afford again.

Even if the other person is familiar from an impressive number of Arthur’s personal near-death experiences, he’ll… he’ll take it.

“Alright,” Arthur concedes shakily, taking John’s wrist in his hand again. “Er– so long as you make the coffee.”

Arthur and John get sent back to the present, and end up in Noel's apartment. It's the middle of the night, and of all the many questions they have, one is why the Butcher is there.

[mdzs-fanon-exposed]

MDZS Fanon VS Canon: 7/?

Mo Xuanyu and Xue Yang were Jin disciples at the same time

Rating: FANON – SUPPORTED

There's a not insignificant amount of fanworks that depict Xue Yang and Mo Xuanyu interacting during their time as guest disciples of the Lanling Jin sect. While we do not have any concrete evidence that the two characters ever met, it is (mostly) possible to discern whether they were guest disciples at the same time.

The timeline of Mo Dao Zu Shi is often hard to follow because specific years and dates are rarely given in the books, but using context clues, I can piece together a rough estimate of when both characters were present at Golden Carp Tower and use that to identify any points they may have overlapped.

Xue Yang:

Xue Yang's time as a guest disciple is easier to define, so I'll start with him. The earliest time we see him, chronologically, is during the flower-viewing banquet that Lanling Jin held directly following the end of the Sunshot Campaign:

Xue Yang was extremely young at this point in time. Although his face still had a boyish cast to it, he was already very tall. He also wore a Sparks Amidst Snow robe, the very picture of carefree youth as he stood beside Jin Guangyao, like a spring breeze caressing the willow. (Seven Seas Ch. 10, Part 2)

He is already a disciple of the Jin sect, although he hasn't been one for long, according to Nie Mingjue's reaction:

Nie Mingjue frowned. “Xue Yang from Kui Prefecture?” Jin Guangyao nodded. Xue Yang was already infamous at a young age. Wei Wuxian could clearly sense Nie Mingjue’s frown deepening. (Seven Seas Ch. 10, Part 2)

Note that at this point, both Wei Wuxian and Jin Zixuan are alive (and attending the flower-viewing banquet as well). We can assume that this happens approximately 1-2 years before Wei Wuxian's death, due to factors such as time skips and a reference to the Sunshot Campaign from when Xiao Xingchen leaves the mountain, which we know is about a year after the Siege:

At the time, it had only been a few years since the end of the Sunshot Campaign, and the Siege of the Yiling Burial Mounds had just concluded. (Seven Seas Ch. 7)

and

Twelve years ago happened to be the year right after the Siege of the Yiling Burial Mounds, so they had just missed each other. (Seven Seas Ch. 7)

We can also approximate when Xue Yang's time as a disciple ended. He had to have been a guest disciple of the Lanling Jin until between one and two years after Wei Wuxian's death. We know it was at least one year afterwards, because he meets Xiao Xingchen and Song Lan while still associated with the Sect:

Xiao Xingchen smiled, seemingly well aware that it was in Jin Guangyao’s nature to speak in an ingratiating way. “Lianfang-zun speaks too highly of me.” His gaze then turned to Xue Yang. “He may be young, but since he ranks among the guest cultivators, he must still exercise self-discipline and restraint. The Jin Clan of Lanling is distinguished, after all, and should strive to set an example in many aspects.” (Seven Seas Extra 3)

And it must have been up to two years or less because Xue Yang was both imprisoned and exonerated for the crime of the Chang Clan massacre (and therefore no longer a disciple) while Jin Guangshan was still alive:

“I’m not shielding him,” Jin Guangyao defended himself. “The incident with the Chang Clan of Yueyang shocked me greatly as well. How could I have anticipated Xue Yang would slaughter a family of over fifty people? But my father insists on keeping him…” (Seven Seas Ch. 10)

and

Jin Guangshan began thinking of ways to pull Xue Yang out of jail ... until finally, the Jin Clan of Lanling successfully persuaded Chang Ping to change his story. He withdrew all the grievances he had stated before and announced publicly that the clan extermination case had nothing to do with Xue Yang. (Seven Seas Ch. 7)

And we know Jin Guangshan died eleven years before Wei Wuxian was resurrected, from Sisi's story.

“I’ll go first, then!” She casually curtsied to the crowd. “What I’m about to tell you is an incident that happened roughly eleven years ago.” ... And the half-dead man on the bed must have been Jin Guangshan! (Seven Seas Ch. 19)

Therefore, Xue Yang's time as a guest disciple lasted anywhere from two to four years in total, beginning at the end of the Sunshot Campaign and ending approximately a year (give or take) before Jin Guangshan dies.

Mo Xuanyu:

Mo Xuanyu's timeline is harder to define, because we never actually see him while he's a disciple, and have to rely on rumors and circumstantial evidence. The only reliable information we have, date-wise, is that he was fourteen when he was called to Golden Carp Tower by his father:

And sure enough, when Mo Xuanyu turned fourteen, that clan leader sent over a grand party to officially take him back. (Seven Seas Ch. 2)

Although knowing he's fourteen isn't particularly helpful, we do know that Jin Guangshan was still alive at the time. As for the exact time frame in which Mo Xuanyu could have been accepted as a disciple, Jin Guangyao says this:

“Did you think that I would rise in position with Jin Zixuan’s death? Jin Guangshan would rather bring back another illegitimate son than have me succeed him!” (Seven Seas Ch. 10)

This implies that Mo Xuanyu was accepted into Lanling Jin after Jin Zixuan's death so that Jin Guangyao would be further down the line of succession. This sentence is said when Nie Mingjue confronts Jin Guangyao about sheltering Xue Yang from the consequences of the Chang Clan massacre. Therefore, Mo Xuanyu could have (theoretically) entered the Jin sect at any point between Jin Zixuan's death and Nie Mingjue's confrontation, the latter of which took place after Xue Yang's imprisonment.

However, I believe it is more likely that Mo Xuanyu was brought in during the aftermath of Jin Zixuan's death, for the sheer reason that it would shunt Jin Guangyao out of the line of succession quicker.

We do know that Mo Xuanyu was present at Golden Carp Tower after Wei Wuxian's death, because Jin Guangyao gave him access to Wei Wuxian's manuscripts on possession:

He had written plenty of these manuscripts back then, all penned on a whim and tossed aside just as easily, scattered all around the cave where he slept in the Yiling Burial Mounds. ... He’d wondered where Mo Xuanyu had learned such forbidden magic. Now he knew. Never in a million years would Jin Guangyao have allowed unimportant people to glimpse the remains of a manuscript on forbidden magic. (Seven Seas Ch. 10)

And although we don't know exactly when Mo Xuanyu was kicked out of Golden Carp Tower, we can infer that it happened before Jin Guangshan's murder. During the events in the Sword Hall of Lotus Pier, after Sisi and Bicao's testimonies, one unnamed cultivator says this:

"He spent the last few years before Jin Guangshan’s death busily clearing the land of his father’s illegitimate sons, for fear that someone would suddenly pop out of nowhere and challenge him for the position. Mo Xuanyu was probably one of the lucky ones. Had he not gone crazy and been booted back home, he would likely have ended up disappearing like the others." (Seven Seas Ch. 19)

This implies that Mo Xuanyu's expulsion from the sect happened at some point before Jin Guangshan's murder. Theoretically, this was done because he would be a potential threat to Jin Guangyao's legitimacy (and have gotten killed) otherwise. As Mo Xuanyu was not legitimized, though, it's unlikely that he would have posed a genuine threat to Jin Guangyao's succession. Regardless of the reasoning, the quote here indicates that Mo Xuanyu was kicked out before Jin Guangshan's death.

To be clear, however, this cannot exactly be taken as reliable evidence. As Wei Wuxian says about this exchange,

If they’re just rumors, why so quick to believe them? If they’re secrets, how would you even know of them? This was not the first time these rumors had spread. While Jin Guangyao was in power, they had been suppressed so well that no one took them seriously. But tonight, the rumors all seemed to have become hard facts with irrefutable evidence. They became a solid foundation for Jin Guangyao’s multitude of crimes, proving just how unscrupulous he was. (Seven Seas Ch. 19)

So while it's possible that the timeline here is correct, we know that (as established earlier in the books – see Chapter 1) rumors in the world of Mo Dao Zu Shi are unreliable at best and often contradictory. For the purposes of this post, though, I am choosing to assume that this is at least partially true.

So taking the assumptions I've made into account, we know that Mo Xuanyu's time as a Jin disciple could have lasted up to approximately three years, anywhere between directly following Jin Zixuan's death to just before Jin Guangshan's death.

The timeline:

Now that I have a rough estimate of when both characters were present at Golden Carp Tower, I can try to find places where they overlap. Unfortunately, even with all this sleuthing, I cannot say for sure if they were present at the same time. The chance that they just barely missed each other, though, is unlikely.

Given the most generous interpretation of their respective timelines, Xue Yang and Mo Xuanyu could have been Jin disciples together for almost three years at maximum. This assumes:

Mo Xuanyu was accepted into the Jin sect almost immediately following Jin Zixuan's death.

Both Xue Yang and Mo Xuanyu's expulsions happened soon after one another, within the same year as Jin Guangshan's death.

This means Mo Xuanyu would have been a disciple since before Wei Wuxian died, and that Xue Yang's imprisonment and exoneration happened on a very tight timeline right before Jin Guangshan's death. This is the interpretation that gives both characters as much time to interact as possible.

Given the least generous interpretation, however, Xue Yang and Mo Xuanyu just missed each other. This assumes:

The massacre of the Chang Clan happened very soon after Xiao Xingchen descended from the mountain.

Mo Xuanyu's acceptance into the sect happened just before Nie Mingjue confronted Jin Guangyao.

This means that Mo Xuanyu's call to join the sect would have happened in between Xiao Xingchen apprehending Xue Yang and Nie Mingjue confronting Jin Guangyao about it, which is presumably a very short amount of time. This is also the least likely interpretation, as it wouldn't make much sense for Mo Xuanyu to have been accepted so late and during such a controversial period for the sect.

The most likely interpretation is somewhere in the middle: that Mo Xuanyu and Xue Yang were, in fact, Lanling Jin disciples at the same time, but that they did not have much overlap. I believe it is probable that Mo Xuanyu would have been accepted into the sect within a year or so of Jin Zixuan's death, and that the Chang Clan massacre happened at least half a year after Xiao Xingchen descended, meaning the two would have had around a year of overlap between them.

In conclusion, I can say with relative confidence that Xue Yang and Mo Xuanyu would have been Jin disciples at the same time. However, I cannot confirm this as canon, as there is not enough evidence available in the books. Therefore, this must be rated as SUPPORTED FANON: the text does not directly state this is true, but it is a distinct and likely possibility.

[simpjaes]

HYPER-SEXUAL (s,jy)

If there’s anything in life that Jake wants, it’s to fuck. All day, every day, it’s on his mind. He fantasizes constantly, watches porn every free chance he gets, and ultimately has grown bored of his own hand to satiate his need. or the one where jake is inexperienced, incredibly perverted, and borderline addicted to sex but cannot, for the life of him, land a girl.

leave feedback and reblog to give jake another boner. 

minors do not interact. 

WORDCOUNT― 13.8k

PAIRING― jake sim x afab reader

CONTENT― smut, inexperienced but pervy and dominant jake, he kind of has an addiction to jerking off, im not joking like he has a boner every twenty minutes it’s probably a medical issue but, reader is really sex positive and lets jake go absolutely insane on her

NOTE― not proof read in the way it needed to be.  disclaimer: this is straight up just porn. it had a plot at one point but i deleted all of it and wrote this instead. also this is posted on my other blog [@ncteez] for mark lee. yes, i wrote it for both of them bc they both fit the shoe ok? ok.

smut tags under cut:: 

smut tags― jake isn’t submissive– just a loser, loads of masturbation, also loads of loads lmfao, jake’s dick is 8 inches in this one, public humiliation, dirty talk, teasing, pussy eating / face sitting, mentions of free use, unprotected sex, wayyyy way too much cum, raw grinding, attempts at deep throat, accidental face fucking, finger fucking, suffocation, riding, squirting, implications to the fact that orgasms are not the end of the fic bc they just keep going, some say they’re still fucking to this day. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

“Feels so good! Harder! Fuck m-” 

Jake slams his laptop shut in an exasperated sigh. Frustrated, annoyed, fucking horny. 

Always horny. To the point that nothing excites him anymore. Not his hard-on being palmed at by his own hand, not the make-shift pocket pussy he’s made out of household objects, not the porn on page one or on page seventy-three. 

Honestly, even as hard as he is now, it’s arguable that he could just start punching his cock and he’d still remain in this state until something changes. And you know what sucks more than not being able to get off? Being hard so constantly that it’s just a state of living at this point. 

It’s sad. He could be washing caked ketchup off of a plate and his cock would still lend a little jump. A reminder that his hand is no longer enough. A fucking threat that if he doesn’t sink into a pretty hole soon, he might as well just kill himself. 

The idea doesn’t seem too bad anymore, as he lays flat on his back with his cock in hand on his messy sheets. He stares up at the ceiling with another long-winded groan, wondering why he has to have such an insatiable libido and probably twice as much stamina. If he could just get off he’d have at least a little bit of time in his day to feel normal before it takes hold of his brain again. 

It’s the fact that he’s grown entirely numb to his own hand and feels like he’s going crazy because he hasn’t been able to hook-up with anyone in nearly a year. Porn is boring, he swears he’s seen just about all of the good, bad, and bizarre. Post nut clarity barely exists because there is no clarity by the time he finally gets that hard-to-reach nut. Bad luck, maybe. Awful fucking miserable luck? That’s more fitting. 

For the sake of the girls in this city, perhaps it’s good that he can’t manage to land a hook-up. Surely they’d be unable to walk by the time he gets his fill, that is if he manages to get a fill at all. And it’s gotten to the point that Jake has almost entirely given up on finding a girl at all. One that’s willing to put up with his near-constant need to get his dick wet, anyway. 

Almost given up.

A thought crosses his mind as he lazily palms himself with a bored sigh, knowing he’ll end up locked up in an asylum somewhere if this doesn’t stop. The voice of Jay in his head doing little to make his cock soften, which is…not something Jake is proud to admit.

“Dude, you gotta put a stop to this shit. This is your third laptop this year!” Jay had said to him. “It’s only June!”

Maybe Jay was right, and maybe Jake should have downloaded the new app that was mentioned shortly after the scolding rather than immediately going to another, even more, shady porn site. “Heard this one was really good.” Jay had advertised. “Even got Jungwon laid.” 

Well, maybe it wouldn't hurt to try another app despite the immense amount of failure Jake has already faced regarding previous attempts with other platforms. After all, if it got Jungwon laid, surely it could get him laid too. 

Maybe this one really is better.

And at the end of the day, Jake does download the app. After all, creating a profile is easy, finding a girl though? 

We’ll see.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Ah. Okay. Nice.

Jake stays glued to his phone all night. He really had no hope that this app would offer him anything more than what the others did. But, oh. 

The app allows specific features, most of which are not aimed towards users looking for a relationship. Dick and body sizes are out in the open, there’s sections you can fill out regarding what you’re looking for in a sexual partner, how often you’re willing to see said partner, and if you’re looking for a regular fuck or a one time fuck. 

Safe to say, Jake’s profile went a little something like this: 

you can call me jake, im 24. just looking for a girl either for regular visits or a one night stand that’s willing to deal with a guy who literally suffers from chronic-boner syndrome.

LOOKING FOR: Female PREFERENCE: One Time Only, Occasional Meetups, On-call, Regular meetups, Permanent Friends-With-Benefits, Secret Meet, Virtual Meet, Audio Meet, Rebound C…[Click to see more] PARTNER REQUIREMENTS: N/A SIZE REFERENCE: 8 ½” hard, 4” soft, 5.6” circumference SEXUAL INTERESTS: Vanilla, Free Use, BDSM, Begging, Breeding, Dom/Sub, Dominatrix, CBT, Role Play, Public Humiliation, Edging, Spanking, Dirty Talk, Phone Sex, Virtual Sex, Group Sex, Humiliation, Cock Play, Cum Dump, Religion, Raw, Multiple Orgasms, Androgyny, Genital Piercings, Older Women, Body Art, Wax, Anal, Financial Domina...[Click to see more]

NOT INTERESTED IN: Cuckolding, Voyeurism OTHER: im not very experienced in most of these, i just watch a lot of porn

Embarrassing? Yeah, probably. 

Looks like a lot of women are into that though if his inbox is anything to go by, anyway. With him checking the app every few minutes to find ten new messages? Yeah, they’re feeling him. 

He can only imagine what the fuck Jungwon had on his profile to actually land a hook-up. Couldn’t have been any worse than his own, after all, Jake is desperate and so was Jungwon at one point. 

Apparently girls like desperate guys. 

Message after message, degrading comments and praise, all from either women clad in leather or sweet looking church girls who must have the app hidden deep within their phones. There’s barely anyone in between those two categories, actually. 

“Hi baby boy, you looking for a sugar mama?” 

“ur dick really that big? lol, what do you even mean by ‘chronic boner syndrome’?” 

“you’re so desperate to get laid, might as well just doxx yourself at this point…please.”

Arguably, these women are very forward and he has a great time sifting through the ones he’s interested in. Scrolling through all of these messages….does not help his case regarding his insatiable need to fuck something either so, naturally, he’s also 100% jerking off the entire time he’s doing this.

Still, never quite able to reach the orgasm he needs by this point.

Up until there’s a message that catches his attention. No degrading, no insults, no borderline-too-kinky insinuations. Which, given, Jake probably shouldn’t have selected the majority of the kinks just to pull more girls, but he did. 

And upon reading the message, he almost doesn’t know if this girl is real. 

“High libido, no girls around to help you out, I take it? Rough.”

One look at her profile spikes even more interest. Her sexual interests include a list of things he wishes he didn’t fit. But he does, though he’d never admit it. Inexperienced men, losers, virgins, micro-penis, big penis, praise (receiving), body worship–

Oh.

Fuck yeah.

He responds quickly, already feeling the orgasm within him bubble up as he tries to pretend he doesn’t go on a war path of responding to everyone after you, but still. Your message box with him remains in his mind as he awaits the response to his message of “you looking to help me out?” 

Every ping on his phone afterwards makes his cock twitch more, makes it dribble out little beads of pre-cum with each pass of his palm, only for him to sigh out of frustration that it’s just another person that wants to devour him whole. Which, he’ll take what he can get if his first choice never responds but still. He wants to get off to you.

He finds himself on your profile more often than anyone else’s too, looking at the same three photos you’ve posted, noting how you don’t seem super active on the app, but active enough to find him by some beautiful grace of God. 

You’re kind of perfect, honestly. Fairly mundane compared to most of the women in his inbox, but cool nonetheless. He can tell you have an eye for fashion but it seems to be more geared towards your real life self rather than the secret fetish/kink app you’ve got downloaded.

And that’s the thing. Most of these women, beautiful or not, are dressed in their best sexual attire just to message a possible fuck, while during their daily lives they probably wear conservative dresses and pant suits. Which….arguably that’s kind of hot. Then again, what isn’t hot to him these days?

You though. You have normal pictures posted just like he does. Your tits aren’t out, your legs aren’t open, you don’t have a pile of sex toys behind or beside you and yet still your pictures turn him on more than those who do. Insane how his cock twitches at just these three photos, fucking insane how he grows a near instant obsessed thinking about how you…uh, deal with the losers you seem to be looking for.  

Then again, maybe it’s the mystery of what’s under your clothes, or what’s in your stash of sex toys. Oh, whatever you’re hiding has got be so fucking hot. Naturally, he groans at the amount of sexuality you barely give. Thinking far, far too hard about it all, given the circumstances. 

Don’t get him wrong, he can get down with the hoes. In fact, he very much wants to get down with a hoe. But man, the way you stand out because you’re somehow….boring compared to everyone else?

Please.

Fucking pretty please, let him in between those thighs. 

And just as he scrolls again through your photos, that long-awaited orgasm hits him like a brick.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

A mere two days later you find yourself in the inbox with the self-proclaimed boner-god. He’s since proven his size with photos involving different objects beside said penis, and even a video or two of his frantic hands jerking off to you. 

Ah, he’s kind of perfect if you think about it. At first you thought that it was just roleplay for him or something. Where he plays a guy who can’t get enough, though he clearly probably does. It wasn’t until you were woken up at four in the morning with him spamming your inbox that you suddenly realized this dude is actually as desperate as he seems. 

Normally, being spammed awake by your phone pinging consistently would bother you. But goddamn was he needing it. Just three hours before now it was mostly casual conversation with him, albeit about hooking-up, but still. The two of you agreed to determine on the following day if you were compatible enough for a meet up. He said goodnight to you, and you said it back. 

Then you woke up to three dick pics, one voice note with a borderline pathetic apology (only because you could still hear him going at it), and then like fourteen messages of him trying to wake you up intentionally. 

JAKE_02 sent you a message: You awake?

Dick pic #1. 

JAKE_02 sent you a message: You’re so pretty, sorry lol

Dick pic #2 

JAKE_02 sent you a message:  Wake uppppppppppp! 

JAKE_02 sent you a message:  Please? :(

Dick pic #3, precum smeared across his fingers as he grips it. 

JAKE_02 sent you a message:  Do you already have me silenced?

JAKE_02 sent you a message: I’d let you silence me hahaha….

JAKE_02 sent you a voice memo: “Sorry about all this, I really meant it when I said I have a problem. You should probably just block me because I’m going to end up begging to see you otherwise”

Oh, he has an accent. 

JAKE_02 sent you a message: your profile says you like inexperience…..well i’ve only slept with like 3 girls, is that inexperienced enough?

JAKE_02 sent you a message: do you like to tease guys like that? like edge them and stuff? 

JAKE_02 sent you a message: oh damn, that’d be so hot 

JAKE_02 sent you a message: do you like it when guys beg btw? 

Etcetera. 

And, well, apparently he just has a lot to say. It’s cute how embarrassed he must feel basically getting himself off with a one-sided sext session with you as you were sleeping. At least, you hope he’s embarrassed. 

You let his messages simmer for a while, waiting to see if he sends anything else. And when he doesn’t, you respond. 

YOURUSERNAME: that was cute. 

It’s the way he’s instantly trying to respond that really gets you going. You chuckle first, knowing already that you’d probably help him out based on this situation alone. 

YOURUSERNAME: trying to wake me up because you can’t stop touching yourself? :( poor baby. 

JAKE_02: oh god please don’t say that

JAKE_02: im gonna end up awake all night trying to get it to go down again

YOURUSERNAME: that’s good to hear. so you can go for a long time then? 

Yes, you’re teasing him. 

JAKE_02: if you’d let me

YOURUSERNAME: you already got off tonight tho, didn’t you?

JAKE_02: i don’t think you understand just how bad it is. i’m already getting my dick out again

You lend yourself a sly chuckle after a deep yawn, knowing for a fact that you’re about to make him prove to you that he’s either still hard or really did get off only to get hard again by a mere few messages from you. 

YOURUSERNAME: show me?

And he does. Similar to the other three photos, only this time he sends a short video with his shorts pushed down his thighs and his cock raging hard and pathetic against his stomach. Again, he’s big, that much is true, but the fact that such a dick is always ready to fuck? To the point he’s desperate? To the point he’s embarrassing about it?

YOURUSERNAME: how bad do you wanna bury that in me?

Oh, shit. Jake could fucking die right now. You seem so willing, which is truly what he needs at this point in his sexual sickness.  

JAKE_02: i’ll come over right now. 

JAKE_02: let me come over and show you

YOURUSERNAME: let’s wait a bit for that, gotta meet officially before I let you fuck me

And you do intend to make him wait, knowing for a fact that you’re not meeting this guy tonight. There’s too much danger in that. Given how desperate he actually is, you can argue that if you changed your mind upon meeting, he very well may not care. Which, that’s something you need to worry about with any person you meet on such an app, but still.

Public meeting first. 

Always.

JAKE_02: right, right, that makes sense. 

JAKE_02: so can i see your pussy then

You stifle a laugh as if the man can hear you, he’d probably like that though. But yeah, no. As much as you know he’d enjoy that, it’s best to let him experience it for the first time in real life if all of this goes well. So, you settle with tits. 

Meaning, he has to settle with them too. 

And the photo is all but enough for Jake. The ping of his phone was far too exciting with the flash of the image sinking into his eyes. Sure, he wanted to see your hole open for him, he wanted to see your pretty hands spreading your lips for the picture, he wanted to see what he might get to fuck into someday– but…

This is good enough for him, honestly. Seeing your tits alone is hot enough, but it’s the fact that you only barely let him see. The plush skin of your lower breasts are peeking from under the shirt you're wearing, one nipple barely out, the other completely hidden. 

He moans out at it, holding his cock tight and painfully as he glares into the screen of his phone. God, he can almost taste it. 

JAKE_02: thats so hot…but….

JAKE_02: pussy….

JAKE_02: please show me your pussy

Another chuckle at how desperate he really is. You lower your phone just a bit, not at all intending to show him all of it but you do lend a panty shot with your legs spread. He’ll live with it, he doesn’t have a choice. 

And he does live with it because he cums almost instantly upon seeing just your thighs open. He wouldn’t have been able to hit climax so quickly had you already had this photo posted for all to see. It’s the fact that you sent it to him in the dms. It’s the fact that you presumably just took it for him. It’s the fact that he can almost see the outline of your folds, and the lines of your pussy that deserves to fucked open. 

When he doesn’t respond immediately, you know it was enough for him. Already you’re preparing to roll back over and get some more sleep, but your phone dings again. 

JAKE_02: tht was hot lol….um

JAKE_02: can u come to the mall tomorrow? i work at [redacted store name], u can come see that im actually very normal if u want

You stop for a second through another yawn, thinking long and hard about it. You shrug to yourself because tomorrow is a saturday and there’s plenty of public spaces to meet him in. And despite how fun it could be to tease him for weeks on end before officially meeting him, you, yourself, have been in a dry-spell lately. 

And he fits your interests perfectly. In other words, yeah, you could fuck.

YOURUSERNAME: you sure you’re not gonna take me in the back and fuck me on the spot? 

JAKE_02: ….would u want me to? 

YOURUSERNAME: no, i wanna bring you home if i think you could make me feel good

JAKE_02: hahah damn

JAKE_02: so you’ll come see me?

YOURUSERNAME: yeah, i’ll come see you

JAKE_02: ok cool :)

And then it’s silent for a long while. In fact, you’re nearly asleep again when your phone pings one last time. All you need to see is the notification to know that meeting Jake is gonna be fun. 

JAKE_02 sent you a message: for the record…i definitely will fuck you good

Sounds promising. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

You knew he was cute but holy shit, he’s like, cute cute.

Fucking handsome and charmingly cute. 

Perhaps even, hot. 

You stand from around a shelf to check him out. That same accent you’ve heard previously rings loud and clear in your head, and his hair is definitely a stylistic mess, the type of hair you can imagine grabbing and tugging to guide a tongue between your legs. His eyes are pretty and piercing yet equally as filled with some sort of wonder. His hands, his body.

 Oh wow. 

On any other day, you’d think he’s just some poser emo-guy working a shitty retail job so he can buy his first guitar and play it totally out of tune. But on this day, you’re aware that this is a man with a need that you very much wouldn’t mind satisfying. 

 Seeing him go about his work tasks behind the counter is another thing. Checking customers out both through the register and with his eyes when they walk away. You know he isn’t aware that you’ve actually shown up, and it feels nice to watch him in his element before he attempts to play himself up as a totally normal, cool dude. Especially now that you can see him secretly be a pervert on the clock. 

Customer after customer, he smiles at them when he hands them their items, he offers small talk and little chuckles that ring in your ears, and every single time one of the pretty ones walks away, his head turns to watch them leave for a few seconds too long.

Anyone can tell he needs it if they watch him for long enough. 

You’re not sure why this guy is getting to you the way he is, but there’s just something about the way that he carries himself in public that turns you on. You already know for a fact that he’s a horny motherfucker. You know that behind those charming smiles and laughs, he’s got a neglected cock needing to be used. 

No one else in this store is aware of it. You’re the only person here who knows he was spamming a stranger last night with dick pics and begging to see her pussy. 

It’s hot. 

And when you approach, Jake nearly doesn’t even know it’s you at first. 

“Hi, did you find everything you–” Jake stops mid sentence. “Oh, fuck. You’re here.”  He adds, trying to primp his hair into a spot that may look a little better than it did already.

You watch as he studies you for the first time, nervously darting his tongue out and against his bottom lip just for a split second before shifting his eyes behind you, and then turning to look around to see if anyone is within ear shot. 

No one is paying attention to either of you, and no one is going to hear what you’re about to say to him. Good.

“Do you wanna see my pussy?” 

It’s a joke, mostly. Kinda. 

You chuckle at his stunned reaction. His hands move to the counter as he clutches it and continuously looks around to make sure no one just heard those lewd ass words from a girl so goddamn hot. Like, oh god, it’s you. You really showed up to see him and already he’s not acting normal. 

No, no. You’re the one acting out of pocket, not him.

“I’m–” He tries to start, but his voice cracks in a very, very, embarrassing way. You hear him clear his throat before continuing. “I’m supposed to be showing you that I’m normal.” 

You tilt your head at him playfully, leaning against the counter and pushing your tits together with your arms. You wore this shirt here for a reason, and boy are you glad you did. You watch his eyes go straight to your chest and stay there. 

“Public Humiliation.” You echo one of his sexual interests to him from his app profile. “Dirty talk.”

Jake swallows around his words in stunned silence, feeling his cock wake up immediately. Fuck, this is the only place he finds peace of mind from…that. Yet here you are, with that soft and pretty voice reminding him of everything he wants but hasn’t been able to have. Standing there like you know he can’t bend you over right now and make you stop talking.

“Eight and a half inches hard.” You continue, leaning in even closer and moving your hand to the collar of your shirt. Tugging down just a little bit. “Five point six inch circumference.” 

Jake squeezes his eyes shut as he leans back with a sigh, pressing his hips against the counter for some sort of relief. To think the “boring” girl on the app wouldn’t be like this? God, he knew there had to be a catch considering you were on that app to find him in the first place. 

“Please–” He groans as his ears redden, lazily opening his eyes to look at your tits again. “Please don’t do this to me.” 

“I can imagine you’d fit it in me just right, wouldn’t you Jake?” You continue briefly, noting the bulge he blatantly presses against the counter. “Can you say ‘please’ again? It’s kinda hot.” 

“Please–” Jake blatantly groans now, his voice sounding hoarse and low. As much as he wants you to keep going, he’s at fucking work. He can’t be doing this. 

“Okay!” You gleefully agree as you switch up like you didn’t just fuck him up, lending him a bright and innocent smile as you lean back and away from him. “So you don’t want to see my pussy then?”

His relieved face falls right back into that of pained frustration as he narrows his eyes at you. 

“Right now?” He asks curiously, nodding his head without realizing it. Sure, he’s at work but like….your pussy is also at his work place right now.

“Yeah! Can you show me to the fitting room, actually?” You ask, louder this time in case anyone has moved around within ear-shot by now. Can’t make him lose his job, or whatever.

Jake swallows thickly with a nod, his eyes still narrowed at you but his mind racing a mile a minute at the fact that you’re really here right now, and this is what you’re doing to him? Enjoying his pain? Enjoying his suffering? Making it worse? 

Five minutes ago he was perfectly fine. You’re using his need against him and god, he loves it. Yeah, maybe he will take you to the back and try to fuck you at this point. Even if you said that you wouldn’t let him…what the fuck is this then? 

Really, he expected you to show up with an awkward hello and irritating small talk. He wanted to show you that he’s not always thinking about sex. Except he is, and it seems you want him to. You want him to think about fucking you. 

You really just walked into this establishment and asked him if he wants to see your pussy.

Of course he wants to see it. You already fucking know that. He wants to fuck it too, like, right now. 

And as he walks you to the fitting room, he has to try his damndest to adjust his growing cock. He nods to each customer as he walks by them, hands repeatedly going back to his lap to hide what he’s packing.

“Here it is.” Jake says in an unfocused voice, nearly staring a hole through you. “Now show me.” 

You dip your head in a smile, heading for the room and opening the curtain. Cheap ass store, really, most places have actual doors, but whatever. 

It’s easy to step inside and leave the curtain skewed a bit, knowing that Jake is hovering around the room, knowing that it’s probably protocol that an employee assist this space when it’s in use to prevent stealing and to prevent others from walking in on naked customers. 

You like the way you see him take peeks, trying to be discreet. You like the way he keeps his hands in front of his lap, hiding that you’ve definitely made him a mess of him already. You love the way he whispers a curse to himself when you sit against the bench in this small room and spread your legs wide open. 

You bet he loves the skirt you’re wearing for him today too. Though this wasn’t exactly planned or anything, you didn’t expect to be this turned on upon seeing him act as desperate as he sounds. You wore this shirt so he can look, and the skirt too…but looking this much wasn’t in your mind originally. 

He’s hot though. The way he needs it is hot. 

“Hurry up.” He groans, trying to make it seem like he’s frustrated but you know it’s just because he’s anxiously horny. 

And, well, you’re not actually gonna show him your pussy, but at this point you feel bad because he seems really stiff right now, almost robotic in the way he likely feels uncomfortably aroused in his least favorite place.  

“Jake,” You whisper-chuckle. “If you wanna see it, you’re gonna have to come in here and take my panties off of me.”

You hear him sigh, and see his eyes flick back to you through the small open space in the curtain. 

“You’re insane. I can’t come in there, I’ll lose my job.” He argues with a hushed tone, eyes fixated on the very panties he wishes he could remove. 

Even against his protests though, he reaches an arm in as he looks away. As if on extreme watch of other customers and employees roaming around. Probably pretending to grab a garment that doesn’t work for you, probably just doing normal, good-employee things. 

And, well, it’s pathetic really, the way he hopes for more. The way you offer more knowing he can’t get exactly what he wants. You actually feel a bit bad for doing this, especially because it wasn’t entirely in the plan. 

You really were just coming to meet him. It’s not your fault that watching him work turned you on solely because you know what he needs. So, you stand and walk towards the curtain, grabbing his arm and holding it in place. 

“Well–” You start, pressing yourself against the backside of his fingers, feeling him move his hand slightly against your clit. “Touch it then.”

He goes entirely silent but you feel the way he fumbles his hand, immediately grabbing your panties and moving them to the side just to really feel. And you let him, finding it somehow cuter in the way he doesn’t even ask. He does it like he needs to, like it’s instinctual to touch it. He feels for a second or two, probably closer to about five seconds before you step back. Really, it’s enough for him to know you’re wet, enough for him to suffer, enough for him to want more. 

Jake’s brain is on fire at it. Touching it before getting to see it? Goddamn, you’re so fucking mean.

And it’s silent for a few more moments after that as Jake keeps his hand in place, seemingly searching for a pussy just out of reach when you slide the fabric down your legs and place them directly into his hand. 

“When do you get off work?” You ask slyly now, ripping the curtain open and moving his hand for him, forcing him to shove your panties in his pocket. 

“Uh–” He stutters, swallowing again around his words before clearing his throat of the moan he really needs to let out right now. “Seven– I get off at seven.”

You nod with a smile, leaning in real close before patting his pocket. 

“I’ll text you my address.” 

And you leave without sparing him another glance, knowing that by the time his shift is over, he’ll probably pounce the second you open your door for him. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Jake suffers through the rest of his shift aggressively trying not to suck on his fingers. Fuck, he wants to taste you so bad, but to go as low as sucking the remnants for several hours just to hold him over? Truly, he’s at his wits end. 

Mostly because he absolutely does suck his fingers any chance he gets. Tapping his lips with them as he sees a customer off, licking against them discreetly, trying to make it look normal for him to have his fingers in his mouth so consistently. 

It’s not doing anything to hold him over though. 

He keeps glancing at the clock, and then at the message that reads your address. Just one more hour and he can leave. Just one more hour and he can bury his cock so deep into you that you’d never think twice about letting him do it again, and again, and again.

Oh god, really, he feels like he’s going insane as he checks out customer after customer. Every word they say somehow reminds him that he’s about to finally get laid again. 

“Can you wrap this up for me?” One customer said to him, nodding to a set of candles. 

Jake wishes you’d wrap him up in that pussy. 

“Do you have this in a bigger size?” Another customer had said to him as they held up a plush sweater. 

Jake doesn’t think you’d ever need a dick bigger than his. He’ll fill you up just right. 

“69.99?!” One customer argues. “The sign said it was 30% off!” 

Jake would sixty nine you all night long if you asked. He bets you taste sweet, you probably get really wet too. 

And by the end of the night, rain pounding on the roof, his last customer unfortunately has to hear a low groan leave his throat at their comments. He’s very quick to cover it with a cough. 

“Sorry for coming in right before you close, the rain is bad tonight and I forgot my umbrella, thank god you guys sell them! I didn’t mean to drip all over the floor like this, I hope you don’t have to stay late cleaning up my mess!” 

“I didn’t mean to drip all over your floor like this” Replays in his head, over and over again. God, he’d make you drip. He hopes you drip all over the floor for him. He’d get on his knees and lick it right up, god.

He needs to leave. Right now.

“S’all good,” Jake shakes his head after the initial moan and cough cover, trying to remain casual. “It’s my job to clean it up, after all.” He smiles, his brain stuck on the feeling of how wet you were when he touched you. Shiiiit. “Have a good night, stay dry!” 

And finally, Jake can close out his register and lock the doors. That, he does. Performing his end-of-night tasks at lightning speed with a cock throbbing so bad that he worries he might have to get off in his car before making it to your apartment. He genuinely needs to get off, especially knowing these pretty panties are in his pocket ready to be soaked in his cum. 

He doesn’t though, no. He holds off, thrusting his hips up and against the inseam of his pants with every passing second as he drives. He’s practically writhing by the time he gets to your place. Honestly, he moans with each movement because he’s sensitive. It’s so, so fucking sensitive. Everything feels good, he could genuinely cum the second you open your door if he’s not careful. 

Careful isn’t something Jake can be at this moment though, not when he lands a single knock at your door and you’re immediately opening it, looking at him with that same fucking evil smile you gave to him while he was at work. 

He looks at you and instantly lets out a frustrated moan before stepping in without another word. You feel his hands grab you much harsher than you originally thought he would, but you let him as you laugh out in a nervous chuckle. 

“Hello to you too.” You pat him on the back as his arms wrap around your middle. You hear him kick back against your door, slamming it shut before his lips hit your neck. 

He isn’t talking but goddamn you can hear what he needs to say through the way he presses his lips against you. He’s rough with it, kissing all across your exposed skin before slipping his hand right between your legs from the back as if he doesn’t have to chase anymore. 

You were going to jerk your hips back to make him chase, but his grip is too tight and he’s nearly lifting you off the floor entirely to get a feel. You were going to force him to look at you and the outfit you changed into for him, but again, he’s not having it, it seems.  He moans when he moves his lips up and against yours, hot breath desperate and needy as he finally speaks.

“Did it turn you on to torture me like that?” He nearly growls against your lips. “Got me so fucking hard.” 

You’re genuinely surprised with how he’s acting and talking. Then again, he’s desperate, that much is obvious if that monster bulge rubbing against your leg is anything to go by. Perhaps he may be desperate, but you guess that doesn’t always mean someone will end up submissive as a side effect. 

“It did.” You smile against his lips, pushing yourself forward to try and plant your feet back on the ground, chasing the ability to gain control over him. “Did you like that?”

Jake nods before shaking his head, allowing you to push forward, loving the way your hands reach for him and run through his hair before tugging. He did like what you did, but it doesn’t change the fact that it was fucking torture to stand there at work like he wasn’t losing his mind. 

“I’d like it more if we skip all the bullshit,” He starts, hand still attempting to reach the spot between your legs and lips landing at the corner of your mouth. “Could go all night.”

You nod to him, gripping his shirt and pulling him back to your living room couch and spinning him around, only to shove him back. 

“Is that a promise?” You ask, looking at the lazy way he spreads his own legs and rests his head against your couch cushions, eyes staring straight at you and cock twitching in his pants. “You gonna fuck me all night?”

“Yeah–” He breathes as if he’s in disbelief, hand reaching between his legs just to grab himself and squeeze as his eyes trail your body. “You have no idea how bad I need this.”

“Show me then,” You nod your head to his length that’s hidden under his pants. “Let me watch you first.”

Jake groans, rolling his eyes back both out of frustration and arousal, but he does as you say. His palm feels better with you watching, at least. He doesn’t feel so numb to the pleasure with you promising your body to him, at least. He doesn’t mind proving his size to you by shoving his pants down to his thighs and presenting said neglected cock to you either. 

It’s heavy, dark in color due to the blood that’s likely rushing throughout every inch of it. He feels sensitive to even the air in your living room as he twitches and aches to hear you talk again, to see you in front of him watching how he pleasures himself, wishing his hand is yours. 

“You wanna watch?” He says in a low-rumbled voice, tracing his fingers along the head of his cock and seething out a breath through his now, bitten bottom lip. “Wanna know how tight I want you to feel?” He asks now, bold and in the heat of the moment. You watch him when he squeezes the base of his cock tightly, you can almost feel yourself choke at that alone. 

“How wet you need to be to take it?” He continues, dragging his hand back and licking his palm before spitting into it. 

The wetness against his hand is horrifyingly pornographic. So wet when he reaches back down to his length, allowing you to hear it squelch and slip with ease. His breath is hitched while he does it too, which nearly has you seeing him in tunnel vision.

“Yeah…” You tune into him entirely, swallowing around the lump in your throat and feeling yourself drip already. “I can’t imagine how good–” You cut yourself short to moan at the way his other hand holds his pants down while he jerks his hand up faster and faster. “Oh god, you’re–”

“Wanna see how fast I can cum just looking at you?” He continues, hand only moving faster and faster as his grip tightens more, shamelessly grunting proudly over how he could probably cum now if he wanted to. “I told you, I can go all night.”

You pause, because goddamn. You thought he would be embarrassing, pathetic, needy. You thought he would beg, plead, and cry. But…you feel like you’re the one who needs to do that. God, you’ve never seen a man so desperate to fuck yet be so powerful about it. As if he’s in your face whispering, “You’re gonna let me fuck you, right? You’re gonna love it too, right? You’re gonna let me use you to take care of this little problem of mine, right? It’s what you want, right?”

If he were to say those things to you right now, you’d nod without a doubt. But…he doesn’t. He simply looks at you now, heaving out broken moans that sound too sexy to be considered pathetic. His hips chase each movement of his hand and goddamn does he fuck his fist hard.

Your mind is spinning watching him, knowing that he’s probably going to fuck you twice as hard as he fucks himself. And it’s not surprising to you at least that you can feel your own clit swell and throb for touch too. You easily move your hand between your legs, standing right there in front of him, toying with yourself as if you don’t have the power to ask him to do it for you. 

“Ah, fuck–” Jake groans, thrusting his hips up into his hand one last time before strings of his cum make a mess on his shirt. And it seems to go on forever too, spurt after spurt of it pumping out of him alongside his pretty moans and open-mouthed expression. You can feel your body react to him more than it ever has for anyone else, especially in the way….

“God–” You moan yourself now, watching him spread his legs and slouch more against your couch with a relieved sigh from his messy orgasm. But…his cock doesn’t soften. No, it stays stiff and heavy against his stomach, twitching and dribbling more and more of his cum out in little beads. 

The proof of his issue is right here, he really can and probably will go all night. And you say nothing else to him after that. In fact, he wouldn’t be able to answer you if you did say something simply because you find yourself stepping up onto your own couch, resting your knees against the back of it, and gripping his hair. 

Jake lets out a half-moan-half-hum, as expected, when he feels your hand drag his face under your skirt. You didn’t have to do that, but goddamn does he fucking love it. He loves how he can feel your knees buckle and force you to balance on the couch, loves how your cunt is just as needy as he feels, fucking adores the way you drip all over his tongue when he pushes your panties to the side and starts licking you up. 

It’s the fact that he didn’t even have to ask you to put it in his face. The slight taste against his fingers all night at work is nothing compared to the way you drown him now. He needs to do this for you. Hell, he needs to do this for himself.

“Jesus,” You breathe, rolling your hips on his mouth. He’s truly eating you like his life depends on it. You can hear his muffled hums at the taste, you can feel his shoulder shake as he starts jerking off again, you can feel the way his tongue goes deeper and deeper, licking each clench of your walls, only to pull back and suck the wet from your panties in a deep breath. 

He coos at it too, as if he’s in love with the moment, as if he truly can’t believe he’s finally got a pussy to lick. And he swallows each mouth full of your slick before muttering curses and promises against your swollen little bud. 

“Please,” He moans, nipping and licking against you. “Been so long since I’ve eaten pussy, rub it on me- fuck-” he continues to babble, heat-of-the-moment-talk coming out as far more arousing than cringe if you listen hard through your ringing ears. “Come on,” He continues, now neglecting his own cock and gripping your ass with both hands, shoving you back and forth on his face in painfully slow and harsh grinds. “Come on, harder.”

As if you can function at all right now with how rough he is about trying to pleasure you? Fucking hell, the words ignite something in you as you pull back and away from him. For a split second, you see his blown out pupils and fucked up hair as he licks his lips and presents that shining lower-half of his face to you. 

You don’t look for long though, no. Because you’re too busy pushing him to the side and forcing him to lay back on the couch instead. You resume your position afterwards, straddling the couch on either side of his head with your knees and planting your pulsing cunt right on his eager tongue. 

“You’re too hot,” You moan, feeling his hands go straight back to your ass to force more of those harsh grinds against him. “If you could see yourself right now–” Your eyes roll back in pleasure as you feel his moaned out chuckle hit you right in the clit. It’s like he knows he makes you feel good, but does he really? 

Does he truly understand how fucking good at this he is?

 “God, if you could feel how good your tongue is–” You continue, now losing yourself in the heat of the moment, feeling his fingers nearly bruise your ass with the death-grip he has on you. 

He nods his head in what little space he has as he spirals into heaven behind his eyes. The smell of you suffocates him, the taste of you drowns him, the weight of you is nothing short of sexy as hell. This is all he could ever want. A pretty girl using and abusing his face, much like he wants to do to you. But oh, there’s so, so much he wants to do after so long of having no one but himself. 

Eat you out, finger fuck you, slide his cock down that pretty little moaning throat of yours, grip that hair and kiss those tits. God, he wants to do everything right now but he can’t bear to push this perfect clit off of his lips. He cannot fathom losing the taste of you and the way you clench around the tip of his tongue. 

Oh fuck.

“Ahh- '' Jake moans open-mouthed against your clit as his brain hits a wall, his cock standing stiff from behind you as he spills out against himself again. Untouched completely, he cums without any effort where as previously it took him hours just to get off because he’d grown so fucking bored of everything. 

You’ve ignited him. His drive is higher than it’s ever been after being neglected for so long. God, he wants to fuck you so full that you can’t bear to leave him. 

“Fuck–” He continues, trying to lend licks between his jerking body to keep your arousal peaked. “See how bad I need it?” 

He finally manages to pull back, feeling you lift from his face just for a moment after noting the way his entire body is shaking. He’s not having it though, as he cranes his neck in chase of your dripping hole once more.

“Where do you think you’re going?” He adds now, enveloping his lips around your clit again and using both hands to force you right back down on his face. 

There, you feel the way he almost passionately makes out with your pussy. As if he’s thanking you for a second orgasm within the past ten minutes. As if he truly can’t stop wanting to fuck something, someone, anything at all.

Goddamn, what a fucking deal. All hail the hook-up app that brought this insatiable sex beast to your apartment.

“Jake–” You start, grinding down for him and feeling his hands now move to rub up and down your back. “Keep your tongue in me.” You choke out, gripping his hair to hold his face in place as you sit his tongue inside of you, short and jerky thrusts forward to bump your clit against his nose. 

He’s gotten off twice now, it’s your turn. 

And you watch as he drops his arms from you and grips your outer legs through it, letting you use his face until he can’t breathe. Both of you are seeing stars through it, your orgasm bubbling up so quickly that you can barely warn him when your hips halt in a stiffened clench and he’s finishing the job for you. 

Your legs squeeze around his head, your fingers pull his hair, and still he manages to find the space to tilt his chin up just to tongue-fuck you deeper, just to rub his nose harshly against your clit, up until he feels your quivering pussy spill all over his chin, down his throat, stealing any breath or moan he could possibly give right now. 

You’re out of breath by the time you finally slide off of his face, your hands immediately shooting to both of his cheeks as your sensitive clit drags down his stomach for the easy position change. You wince when you lick against his lips at the sensitivity, being sure to seat yourself right against his cock. 

“Hah–” Jake lends a breathy laugh against the way you lick his lips, his hands going right back to your ass and landing a sharp slap to it. “Couldn’t even get our clothes off first.”

You take a second to pull back and look at him, noting the redness against his cheeks and nose, likely from your panties consistently getting in his way and then you chuckle back at him. You’re thankful for the short break the two of you seem to be taking at the moment. Still, you lift up from him just to remove your shirt, exposing your tits in an instant solely because you didn’t wear a bra for this exact purpose. 

He’s still hard, despite two orgasms. You feel him rubbing it against you every few seconds, right up against your saliva and cum-soaked panties which, mind you, are insanely uncomfortable right now. It feels as if they’re slicing through your thigh with the force of how Jake managed to keep them shoved out of his way. 

“Just lay back,” You smile at him, allowing him a longer rest for now as you take it upon yourself to remove the barriers. “Let me take care of you now.”

Jake has hearts in his eyes as he watches you. Normally, a girl would already be falling asleep after all that, leaving him with not enough orgasms and no actual fucking. It’s not his fault he could do foreplay for upwards of three to four hours before going for the finale. Which, arguably, can and will last several hours longer. 

Still, you appear to not be finished either, with your breathless smile and gentle hands. He bites his bottom lip through a smirk as he watches you, tits on full display to keep him satiated for now as you move around on the couch to get his pants off of him. He helps a bit with a little kick, his cock still so sensitive and pathetically weeping for more. He feels lucky to have found you, almost baffled that he may have met his match. 

You lend several glances at his cock, not quite realizing the way he’s blinking at you right now. To be fair, it’s only natural to have your attention on that thing right now. You swallow around your nervousness regarding the size but equally want him to fuck you senseless with it. You already feel entirely fucked out, but…that. Oh, that could change your life, probably. You can imagine he won’t be as gentle as you expected before all of this too. Would probably shove it in all in one go and lose his mind at the feeling. 

He’s probably going to split you open and make it feel good for you too. Somehow. 

Anyway, enough of that. You’ve still got to get his shirt off, your uncomfortable skirt and panties too. 

You make quick work of it, as you stand to your feet and expose yourself entirely to him. Jake just watches, humming and moaning at each new expanse of skin you show to him. He keeps his hands to himself though, likely so used to feeling of them that they’d bring no pleasure at this moment if he were to jerk off to you doing this. And you just…look right back at him.

“Come on,” You smile at him again, lending your hand out for him to grab. “Bedroom will be more comfortable.”

Right. Bedrooms exist.

Jake follows, cock heavy and sensitive against his thigh with each step as he tries to get up close behind you. His eyes stay on your ass as you walk in front of him, and it’s not hard for him to keep his hands on it. In fact, he’s touching you as often as he can, trying to remind himself that he’s with someone right now who actually wants him. 

You seem to be willing to let him do what he needs tonight, and hopefully it won’t be the only time. 

You feel him on you, clinging so closely, hands constantly groping, lips always trying to reach the back of your neck and shoulders, to the point it’s actually difficult to get to your bedroom because you want nothing more than to turn around and shove him against the wall, all to try and take him into your mouth just to see if you can.

He doesn’t really let you think about that for too long though, because the second you get to your bedroom, he’s grabbing you from behind and lifting you in his strong arms. You writhe in his grasp with playful giggles, feeling the strong hold he has on you, keeping you in place against him as he stumbles forward with a deep inhale into your neck.

He’s quick to make his way to your bed, dropping you onto it, flipping you over onto your back, and immediately slotting himself between your legs. He hovers over you for a minute, looking directly into your eyes as his hair falls forward. 

Somehow, you’re more focused on his face than you are of his cock that he’s sliding up and down your core right now. You reach up to his hair, brushing it out of his face and feeling the sticky sweat at his scalp. 

“Could eat you out again.” Jake mentions, hips thrusting against you but eyes calm and level with yours. “Could lock me up in here and just use me all day if you want.” He continues, partially being serious about it, but treating it as if it’s some kinky joke instead. 

Because let’s be honest. If there’s any job Jake could do better than anyone else, it’s be a woman’s fuck toy. Always ready to go, always stiff and horny, always willing to please. 

“Could slide in right now and let you feel how hard I am.” His voice gets breathier as he talks, and you can tell he’s just imagining everything he wants to do. He probably worries he’ll have to go home at some point tonight only to resume his search for potential fucks to keep his need satiated. 

He probably thinks he’s going to exhaust you. 

“Could let you do all of that and more.” You respond, lifting your hips just slightly to press his cock between your bodies, throwing your legs around his waist simultaneously with the way you wrap your arms around his neck. “You want me to lock you up in here?” 

Jake nods with a sigh, squeezing his eyes shut as if he can imagine it. 

“Do you work tomorrow?” 

He shakes his head with another sigh, focusing on the way you keep humping up against his length, sliding yourself in whatever way you can against him. 

“Maybe I’ll just have to do that then.”

Oh, damn. 

The heart eyes are back. The very thought of being in this room all night and all day tomorrow drives his cock to pulse and twitch. Foreplay can come whenever, fucking can come whenever, he can cum whenever. There’s no need for a to-do list. No need for a specific structure of rules on how this needs to happen. Foreplay, sex, sleep. Not with Jake. 

Sex. foreplay. sex. foreplay. for hours. He’ll keep you up all night if he can, fucking and sucking every part of you, into the morning hours straight into tomorrow night. 

Free use with you from now until you’re tired of him. You can do anything you want to him but for now…

“Yeah?” Jake breathes out in excitement, arching his back slightly to let his cock land against your hole, and then he pushes forward slowly. The bulbous head spreads your lips and stretches out your slick pussy with ease as he continues to speak. “Feel that?”

Your eyes flutter shut at the sensation, fingernails already digging into his shoulders at the anticipation as your legs loosen around him. He continues to push forward, inch by inch, painfully slow as if he wants you to feel the burn and stretch even while being as wet as you are. 

“Ah–” He confirms for himself as he watches your face, wincing, mouth falling open. “Yeah, you feel it.”

God, yeah. You do. You feel the weight of his size inside of you, stretching you open so good he probably wouldn’t even have to move for it to hurt. But he does move, he does continue to slide in, savoring every second of your walls quivering and suffocating his cock. 

“Goddamn,” He groans, lifting up on both arms and bracing himself as he looks down, only to find he’s only slid half of his dick into you, and already you’re about as breathless as he is. “Didn’t realize how tight you’d actually be–” 

He chokes when he says it, sliding out little by little before fucking back in, pushing just a bit more into you.

“S’okay.” You try to reassure him, but it’s more for you than it is for him. You really didn’t think a cock could feel so big that it actually hurts, yet, here you are. “I’m adjusting.”

Jake moans at your broken voice, no longer holding himself back to look at your pussy grip him when he pulls out slightly. He looks at your face instead, witnessing how you take all of it in one solid movement from him. All of it, until he can feel his pelvis rest against your clit and your entire body stiffens in a tight hug around his body. 

“Mhm,” He leans back down now, humming against your cheek as he tries to control the urge to fuck. “Taking all of it, aren’t you?”

With those words, he slides out slightly before pushing back in again, trying to force your pussy to relax so that he can stop holding his breath. One hand finds its way to your leg to hold onto, the other holding himself up beside your head, and he just…watches. 

Little by little, he thrusts. Plunging into you in short-tight snaps of his hips just to watch your tits jiggle with the movements, up until he really, really can’t hold back anymore. 

You feel his cock leave you almost entirely, only to slam right back in and cause your vision to go white with a pang of pleasure. Your loud yelp pairs well with his relieved sigh of a grunt, and it appears that this is what breaks him entirely. 

That single, full thrust, lets him fall forward and nuzzle his nose against your neck and his body just goes. Instinctually chasing the deepest parts inside of you, hitting your cervix with each thrust only to drag back and make your toes go numb at the way your g-spot feels entirely too sensitive with this alone.

And god, Jake loves the way you cling through it. The way you moan each time he bottoms out, the way your nails cut into his back and the way your legs continuously fail to stay wrapped around him. He…

Oh no.

“I can go all night–” He breathes out through his relentless thrusts, almost as if he’s pleading with you. “I swear, I’m not done–” He continues to cut off his own words with choked moans as he pulls back and leans up, frantically forgetting to apologize over the fact that he’s already about to cum again.

And you feel him try to slide out, that face he made twice before already alerting you that he really must have so much to pump out of himself at this point. You don’t mind if he’s about to hit a third orgasm, in fact, you’re glad.

Your legs hold him in place as he fights to pull out, his eyes snapping to you in realization after the second time he tries. 

“No fucking way, you– you want it?” His eyebrows fall into that of a relieved release as he, too, falls right back down against your chest and lets his hips fuck freely. 

He’s not controlling it at this point. You feel him stretch you open more through his orgasm, rolling his hips but not pulling out even in the slightest now. Moving back and forth, as if trying to stuff you impossibly full while he releases those thick ropes of cum. It…feels so good even with the way the base of his cock continues to swirl and loosen you up in a painful stretch that almost feels like he’s ripping you open. Still, the pain is gone as he shakes on top of you, in fact, you feel your clit throb at the feeling of how big he is, of how hard he manages to stay. 

He didn’t even fuck you that roughly before this, but it feels like you’re already ruined. Ruined enough to want more. Enough to need more. 

“Bet that feels good,” You chuckle against his hair, feeling each pulse of him and loving the way he pants against your ear. “Not having to pull out, knowing you can fuck me for as long as you want.”

That only pushes his orgasm to hit harder. He thought he was nearing the end of it, but instead, his body goes into overdrive as more pulses of cum shoot out of him at your words. There’s so…so much of it he can give you. And if this is what you want, he’s the perfect man to do it for you. 

“Don’t say that, oh god–” Jake mumbles through the end of his orgasm, keeping himself tucked nice and deep into you as he releases his body weight and makes you feel slightly suffocated under him. “Please.”

Well, he minds his manners well enough, you shrug under him, clenching around his length unintentionally and reminding him that you genuinely can go all night, just like him.

Reminding him that maybe you really will just lock him up in this room all tonight, all tomorrow. He seems into the idea anyway, right? Both of you just free-use sex dolls for the time being…Hell yeah.

And as Jake catches his breath, he finally lifts up, pulling you with him, and sits you directly on his lap now.

“Keep going then, don’t let it get soft.” He nearly whimpers, solely due to the sensitivity his cock is now offering and the fact that after that third orgasm, he truly is gaining the ability to go flaccid between orgasms. 

And you follow his direction, though not entirely how he wanted you to. Instead of rolling your hips, you slip him right out of you and sink your face down between his legs, loving the way his cum spills out of you all the while. You don’t even say anything, not that you’d need to. He watches you, a smirk forming on his lips as he raises an arm and throws it over his eyes. 

“Shit, You’re so my type.” He groans out of the sexual frustration that still bubbles within him. You look so good down there with his cock just inches from your mouth. God, no woman has been able to go down on him for too long despite really fucking wishing they would. 

His hips always lose control, they don’t like face fucking, he’s too big to fit, they’re gagging too much, their jaw is hurting. What the fuck ever. Look at you, blinking up at him like you want nothing more in the world than to take it all down your throat. Ah, fuck, if you did that…

His hips buck up on instinct, forcing you to hold him down with your arms as you lick your lips. 

“You really live up to your promise, you know that?” You smile with warmed cheeks as you speak, blowing air gently against the head of his cock. It’s softened up a little, but it’s no longer going flaccid. You’re sure that the second you work it into your mouth, he’s going to be blocking your airways. 

Good. 

“You say that like I’m not overwhelming you with all of this,”  He chuckles as he moves his arm from his face and down to yours. “Most girls would have already sent me home.”

You circle your lips around the bulbous head, tasting the remnants of both you and him as you gently suckle before popping off and licking your lips. 

“Well, Jake–” You look back down and lend his cock a little kiss. “I’m not most girls. Besides, most guys get their nut and leave me hanging. You’ve gotten, what? Three orgasms by now? And you’re still in my bed? Wanting me to lock you up tomorrow too? What a fucking win.”

Jake rolls his eyes because you don’t even know the fucking half of it. If he were a normal guy, he probably would have done the same thing. Maybe not to you, but to others? Yeah. The thing is, he’s not like most guys. And you’re right in saying you’re not like most girls either, considering…your sex drive appears to be just as insatiable as his.

“Fuck, let me eat you out again–” Jake groans now, needing to pleasure you again, aroused by the fact that he’s basically met a female version of himself. Even if he’s just exaggerating and making himself believe such a woman could exist close enough to him. “Let me– Ahh…”

You cut off his words, dragging a loud and sensual moan from him as you sink down. Mostly to shut him up, mostly so you can return the favor for him from earlier before letting him have another lick of you. After all, you truly do appreciate him for all of this. 

“Mmf–” You mumble unintentionally, feeling each inch of his length that you swallow up pressing your tongue further and further down in your mouth. Up until you’re entirely open mouthed on him, gagging yourself when he hits your throat only to angle yourself up on your knees to point it straight down your throat instead.

It hurts, but you close your eyes in concentration, breathing through each gag, ignoring the dribble of saliva that runs from the corners of your mouth and– you swallow.

Mostly because you can’t suck. Again and again, you swallow around him just to stimulate his length, the girth stretching your lips out to the point you feel your jaw could break, but it doesn’t and it won’t. 

Within an instant of taking his whole length down your throat, you feel his hands in your hair. Your ears are ringing, otherwise you would also be listening to him choke on his words at how you’re doing this to him. All of it. You’re taking him in full, not leaving an inch out, seemingly proving that your mouth can be fucked just as good as your cunt.

He’s in heaven, head spinning as you stimulate him through each gag and sputtered out chokes of a moan. He can’t help it when he grabs your hair, he really doesn’t mean it when he pushes your head down while pressing his hips up. Essentially choking you and suffocating you in full with a paused hold. 

You brace yourself on his hips when he does this, squeezing your eyes shut and continuously gagging from the way he abuses your mouth with just that small movement, and then– he pulls back.

“Ahh,” He groans, snapping his hips back and holding you by the hair to keep you from chasing. “You like that?” He continues, letting you breathe but not answer at all before he’s pushing your head right back down, holding you there again and fucking his hips up repeatedly into your throat this time. 

The sounds are pornographic at best, concerning at worst. You, searching for air somewhere between his thrusts, the sounds of wet sputters, drooling, whimpered groans from him, and desperate gasps and gags from you. Truly, Jake is in heaven right now. With you, specifically, you’ve brought him to heaven.

For you, it feels like he does this forever. You’re losing the ability to comprehend what breathing ever was in the first place, thankfully though, Jake can see the tears pouring from your eyes and feel the way you fall slightly limp, letting him do as he pleases before he realizes– he may actually be overwhelming you now.

He snaps his hips back quickly, pulling you up and off of the last remaining inches of his weeping cock before taking a good, long look at your gasped breath and abused lips. Tongue licking out and eyes stained. 

“I’m sorry, fuck, I–”

Instantly you press yourself down on him once again, resuming your original position of sliding him in until you can’t stand the feeling in your throat, gagging and swallowing around him time and time again. You feel proud of it, proud of the pain, proud of the suffocation. 

Fucking proud to not be finished with him compared to every other person, apparently. 

“Jesus–” He groans now, his entire body slouching against your bed as he slams his head back and starts petting your cheeks. “It’s like you were born for this. For me.”

You hum around the gags, growing accustomed to swallowing him up and feeling your jaw strain. And just a few moments later, you pull up with a deep breath, a smile, and you start rubbing your jaw. 

“Maybe I was,” You try to talk dirty, wanting to drive him insane. “You taste so good.” You add, dipping down again to lick a long stripe up the underside of his balls up to his tip. “Any girl should be proud to say you’d fuck her mouth like that.”

A twitch, he rolls his eyes back and clenches his jaw. 

“How are you so…” He breathes out, reaching his hands blindly for you, only to feel you shift on the bed and essentially sit your tits into both of his hands. “perfect?”

You shrug when he opens his eyes, you’re now hovering over him, both hands covering his on your tits as you force him to squeeze and grope. 

“Maybe it’s best to not ask questions.” You tilt your head playfully. “Besides, if I’m lucky maybe you’ll stop trying to find other girls to fuck. They can’t take care of you like I will, anyway.”

Oh, you damn fucking right they won’t. 

“You can have it any time you want.” Jake smiles, relishing in your tits warming under his palms, watching the way you hover over him tall and proud on your knees. “Could play with you every day and never get bored.” 

You feel him move his hand from under yours, going straight between your legs and sliding not two, but three fingers into you with ease.

“Still so wet too,” He hums, eyes narrowing at you with that same pretty grin. “You always this horny?”

You shake your head. 

“Not usually, you just turn me on.” 

Jake feels proud of that. He doesn’t feel like the odd ball with a dick that can’t be satiated no matter how many pussies he plows through in a night. Which, again, for the past year has been a total of zero pussy. You getting turned on by that makes him feel…capable. Makes him feel like maybe he can be put to use by a pretty girl. 

Makes him feel like his need is wanted and well taken care of. 

“So, I can keep calling you?” He asks now, fucking his fingers up, loving the warmth and slide, anticipating for when he gets to bury his cock in you again. 

“Mhm.” You hum, closing your eyes to enjoy the pleasure of how deep even his fingers reach. Kind of ready for him to stop talking and just focus on what he’s doing to you.

“Even if it’s every single day?” He continues to ask, now using his thumb against your clit. “Even if I need you in the middle of the night?”

Anything he wants if he can keep hitting your g-spot like this. 

“Yes, Jake,” You sigh out of aroused frustration, now wiggling your hips to chase that stimulation inside of you. “I’ll give you the fucking key to my apartment if you want. Just let you walk right in and start fucking me.”

His fingers move faster at the image, the implication of not just free-use, but true free use. Real free-use. 

“Yeah? Wake you up with my cock sliding into you?” He urges you to keep talking, now removing his other hand from your chest and circling it around his cock. “Just walk right in and get my mouth on you while all your friends are here?”

You lend a surprised chuckle, but pay no mind to his words past the arousal it brings to you. You’d tell him about how you have a total of like two friends, and half of the time they’re too busy to show up anyway. Still, the image is hot at the moment. All of it is hot. 

“You’d let me?” He continues pressing every button both physically and mentally, unaware of how easy it is for him to talk as if it’s a normal conversation solely because it’s kind of his general state of living at this point. You, on the other hand, are not used to having a full conversation while your g-spot gets abused. “Even if you’re not home? Let you come home and find me fucking myself for you?”

Oh.

“Fuck–” You groan out at the image, feeling his fingers reach so perfectly, thinking of how it would feel to walk into your apartment just to see this pretty man chasing that tight ring of fingers his fist creates. Probably so turned on and frustrated that you’re not home…so frustrated that all he could do is drop to the floor and start fucking. “God, yeah.”

So that’s what you’re into. You love that he’s that pathetic to fuck. And lucky for you, he’s more than willing to continue to be that fucking pathetic. 

“Does that feel good?” He hums now, watching how you fuck yourself against his fingers, lifting slightly to lick against your nipple. “Can I use my cock again?” He babbles almost, brain on constant loop of you actually giving him free reign of your apartment someday so he can come and–”Please, do this on my cock.”

This is the second time he’s asked you to ride it, and you think that may be one time too many. You almost feel guilty for taking him down your throat first, but then again, you don’t. Your body vibrates knowing you’re about to split yourself open on him again, only this time having full control. 

“You want me to sit on it, Jake?” You smile, thrusting your hips down and sinking his fingers into you so deep that you physically can see his brain malfunction. 

The frantic nod he gives is somehow less powerful than how he lifts his hips, forcing you higher on your knees as his fingers slip out of you and immediately land in his mouth. 

Man, this guy must love the taste of pussy. The image of him doing that alone is insanely arousing to you as you lend him a short nod and slide back, your pussy sucking in the head of his cock instantly as if the two of you move together so well, that it was only natural to not need a guiding hand for it. 

He sinks his head deep into the mattress with the way you try to sink down on him. He holds his breath with those same fingers in his mouth, squeezing his eyes shut at how tight you still are, how wet you still are. 

And he’s shocked, almost, at the way you just keep sliding down. Not letting yourself re-adjust to his size, holding your own breath and bracing yourself on his abdomen just to keep balance and you wince through the stretch. 

“That’s it.” Jake soothes your hips as you sit, clenching around each one of his twitches inside of you. “Doing so good.” He breathes out this time, trying to hold back his moan just for a moment as he awaits your moan first.

And it comes quickly when you lean back rather than against him, arms by his knees as you practically present his cock to him buried entirely into you with this position. He lifts his head and stares at it before reaching his thumb to your clit, immediately pressing hard circles against it. 

“Ride it,” He pleads now. “God, please ride it.” He loses his mind at the image, really, as you do start moving. 

Pained whimpers falling from your lips as you circle your hips, fucking just an inch of him in and out of yourself, forcing the deepest part of your pussy to take the abuse more than anything else. And you know he loves it with the way his thumb stops rubbing your clit, with the way he can’t decide on if he should look or throw his head back and fall into the sensation. 

It’s really cute to witness, and you’d lean forward to kiss him if you had the strength to do it, but you don’t. In fact, all the strength you have is currently bubbling up inside of you with a sharp, almost burning sensation. 

You know exactly what this is. You’ve practiced it time and time again alone in this bed. 

“Oh, oh shit, Jake–” You groan as you frantically start moving your hips through the full and splitting feeling of him inside of you. Your voice sounds so panicked, it almost scares him. And honestly? Had he not have finger fucked you against your g-spot previously perhaps you could last longer on him, but no. 

“What– What’s wrong?!” Jake’s voice is broken when he quickly leans up, hugging around you as you continue to ride against him, faster now, chasing, chasing, chasing. 

Pushing, pushing, pushing.

“No, no!” You moan out, shoving him back against the bed and now lifting entirely from his length before slapping your own clit, fast, rough circled motions before each slap. “Oh, shit!” You nearly yell, witnessing it squirt from your body straight against his abdomen and chest. 

Jake just watches, mouth agape and eyes wide. 

“Oh–” He stares. “Oh yeah?” 

And you’re not even done when he seemingly takes full control. Allowing all that squirt to fall out of you, ignoring your shaking legs, tipping you straight back and plunging his cock right back into that release of pressure inside of you.

“You just weren’t gonna tell me you could do that?” He grunts against your ear, fucking into you so hard and so fast that your orgasm just keeps coming. It feels too good to speak, too good to breathe. 

Even as it subsides and you’re trying to catch your breath, he doesn’t let you. He just keeps going, grunting incoherently against your ear, snapping his hips harder than you think he’s probably ever done before. 

Honestly, with each yelp you let out, your sensitivity goes from being unbearably painful to–

“Do it again–” He urges you. “Give me another one.” Babbling, cooing, fucking moaning all over your neck until his lips hit yours. 

Somehow, that gives him exactly what he wants as he feels your legs tense up and fall open around him. Your pelvis slamming into his so hard that it’s, quite literally, splashing out of you in loud and painful sounds. 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” He nods and whispers against your tongue, sucking it into his mouth before licking into yours, nearly rabid with the way he’s both kissing and fucking you, he can’t help it. He forgot words the second he felt the gush rush past his length, trying to force it out of you only for him to go harder. Like hell he’s not going to feel you literally squirt on his cock. “So fucking messy.”

At one point, you think you might have actually died. You’re not sure but you swear you saw him fucking you in third person for two solid seconds before being slammed right back into your body. The pleasure genuinely is so overwhelming that…well, suddenly you understand why girls probably think he’s too much.

But goddamn he’s…so good. Like, you remember him mentioning his body count through his one-sided sext session with you and you can argue his inexperience probably made this that much better. He’s a fucking natural. 

And as he continues fucking into you, all you can do is lend him a distant smile. You’re definitely not experiencing real life at this moment, and you know he sees it with the way he lifts and keeps his eyes on your zoned out expression. 

“Look at you.” He echoes against your walls. “So, so pretty.” 

And he just keeps doing that, whispering praises, working you through his presumed last orgasm of the night because he genuinely can’t not fill you up with his cum one last time before letting you rest. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

The rest didn’t last long, but to be fair you didn’t need it to. All night, and all day. That promise was kept and Jake remained insatiable throughout all the time he spent with you.

To the point you very nearly felt strange about him leaving. Like you’d grown so accustomed to having someone literally attached to you at the dick that you knew the loneliness and silence would hit you a little too hard once he leaves. 

And, well, he does leave in a sense, but not completely. 

Though you never truly meant that offer in the midst of sex-talk, Jake seemed to have clinged to the idea of it. Lock him up, but still give him the key. 

Never in your life would have imagined giving a person the key to your apartment, and yet…there he goes. Backing out of a guest parking spot in front of your building with your spare fucking apartment key in his pocket right next to those fucking panties. 

[moechies]

nanami who has you impaled deep on his cock, hands restraining your tiny, quivery wrists.

you’ve been a bad girl.

fussing over the smallest inconsistencies throughout your day spent with your dearest fiance — having taken a day off to spend with his darling girl. but you’re a brat — there’s no doubt about it. nonetheless, it’s kento’s responsibility to put you back in your place, turn you back into the pliant, nice, and smart woman he knows you to be.

so when you begin to act indifferent than your usual self, slamming cabinets with a mean force and glaring off at your fiancé at his feeble attempts to comfort and confront you, he knows you’re feeling off.

and he knows it’s not your fault — you’re big on emotions but hefty weak when it comes to communication. so, he’ll just have to force it out of you.

so that’s how he forced you here — mindlessly bouncing atop his cock with your arms confined and pressed roughly against the concave of your back. your consistency is mindless, allowing your little pussy and those weak thighs of yours to think for you as your mushed little head spits out scenarios in order to calm your fiancé.

“do it correctly. i know you can.” the man grumbles, sitting himself up against the soft pillows with a rough readjusting to your sore wrists. they ache — having being pressed against eachother for nearly an hour, and your fiancé having no intention to release them any time soon.

you writhe in his grip, crying out his name with a soft whine as a peace offer for mercy, any mercy.

“correct your posture and straighten your thighs. like i taught you many times before. don’t tell me you forgot, darling.” he eyes you condescendingly, sighing with a disappointed demeanor that has you whimpering.

“y—yhes.. yes sir!” and you do just as he says, straightening your back and stretching out your legs. it takes you a weak couple of grinds before you manage to find a suiting pace — although slow but kento deems it acceptable.

“well done. now,” kento grunts, “tell me what’s gotten you so fussy today. will you?”

you huff, shaking your head softly with an adorable pout, increasing the speed of your pace in hopes to lose the man in his thoughts with your hips.

“now now,” kento warns, his free hand, the right one coming up to squeeze at your cheeks, his calloused thumb jabbing into your right dimple, the rest of his hand laying tight against your left. “we’re not about to play the guessing game.”

you squeak in pain, eyes closing shut which forces the previously bubbling tears to spill over your lash line.

“speak up, darling, or you won’t be cumming anytime soon. i can promise you that.” he growls — which is his last and final warning, an assertion of dominance you’ve only seen once long before.

“i—i—“

nanami removes his grip from your face, a contradicting thumb that comes to wipe at your tears so sweetly you might just cry again.

“wa—wan’ you to put a baby in m—me already,” you hiccup, “wan’a have your kids, k—ken.” finally, you crack.

nanami cums.

you squeak inevitably, not expecting the sudden fill in your womb, thick ropes of spent painting your walls white and filling your tummy. “o—oh shhh—shit.” nanami whines, cursing himself when he feels it leak against his tummy. your hips slow, meaning to stop, “no.. don’t stop. keeping going, l—love. until you can’t, for me.”

you nod shakily, hiccuping softly when you hear the man chuckle, leaning back against the headboard with a weary stare. “that’s it, doll? you’ve been so fussy, so mean all day just because you wanted me to breed this little w—womb? aw.” nanami coos, and you can’t help but feel the slightest bit embarrassed. you’re quick to pout again at his teasing, but your ploy is quickly shocked to failure when he presses harshly against the chub of your tummy — directly atop your womb.

“darling, you must communicate. how would i have known you’d ask of s—something so simple?”nanami stutters when you drop onto his lap, situating yourself tiredly onto him. “i just— ‘s-s embarrassing.” you whimper in response, lifting your head to receive a gentle kiss from the man.

kento’s quick to flip you over, quick enough that you don’t even notice your hot body against the cool sheets with your fiancés cock still impaled deep into you. “no worries now, it’s all done.” nanami grins, “now all i’ve got left to do is make my woman feel good, isn’t that right?”

[thebestandworstdayofjune]

i'm down on my knees, i wanna take you there

summary: you are suiting up for your first mission, the only problem being everyone "forgot" (intentionally withheld) this information from Logan wc: 2.3k a/n: thank you thank you so much for all of your support about my other Logan fic!! I am really enjoying writing for him, and have a few ideas for this Logan as well as some for Worst!Wolverine aka Deadpool 3!Logan as well! More info about empath!reader's powers and her role at the school in this one <3 warnings: slight (incredibly) slight angst, protective!Logan, a bit of a hurt comfort vibe, Ororo, Scott and Jean are meddlers this is the previous fic with these two, not required reading at all, though!

The leather was cool and surprisingly soft against your skin. There had never been reason for you to have to accompany a mission requiring one of the suits before, and you were shocked at how comfortable the uniform was. Typically, when you were asked to help with a mission, you were there for intel. Scope the place out, get a read on the general vibe of the place. Your powers didn’t provide the same level of protection as laser eyes or a strong regenerative healing factor. You would typically arrive with Rogue, in clothes from your own closet and one of the least fancy cars from the garage. You would slip in, get your read, and get out. 

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to help, you just lacked the training that the other members of the team had. And after all, someone had to stay back to mind things at the school. When Charles had approached you a few months ago about some possible applications for your mutation that would come in handy on missions, you’d been hesitant. It was so outside of your comfort zone to load yourself onto a jet that you’d never even considered the possibility. You were far more comfortable in the library where you held English classes for the students, or helping Charles keep students calm while exploring their powers. Neither scenario included the possibility of a lot of violence. 

Ororo helped you finish zipping yourself into the suit, smoothing her hands along the sleeves before giving you a final nod of approval. Jean and Scott granted you small smiles and you did your best to look as confident as you knew they felt. 

They’d promised it was a simple mission, the kind they usually took students on when Charles felt they were ready to join the team, if that’s what they decided to do after wrapping up their schooling. Charles had heard word of a young mutant who had some kind of telekinetic powers and had recently had an eruption while at school. Everyone agreed that it would be best to find them and convince them to return to the school for some training with as little force as possible, only expedited by the fact that Charles had found them hungry and afraid after running away from home using Cerebro. In the past, the kids had been resistant due to huge amounts of fear, causing them to lash out. You knew they were right that your powers would be useful at times like these, and if you were able to help in any way you were inclined to. 

“The fuck do you think you’re doing to her?” You sighed. It wasn’t that you were all conspiring to keep this a secret from Logan. It wasn’t a discussion that you’d had to agree on group espionage. It just seemed that all of you had a sort of understanding that it might be better to ask forgiveness rather than permission. Not that you needed permission. 

Logan looked furious, and what’s worse, he felt furious. You and Charles had been working to extend your powers over further distances, no longer needing to touch someone directly to know how they feel. Though it certainly doesn’t hurt matters. You’d sensed him upstairs, seemingly pacing around and seething. You’d hoped one of the kids had gotten on his nerves, or something on tv had set him off. You could see that was foolish now. 

“We aren’t doing anything to her,” Scott had his visor on, blocking his eyes from view, but you didn’t need to see to know that he was rolling his eyes. “She’s chosen to accompany us on a mission.” 

“A small mission!” Ororo chimed in, doing her best to give Logan a reassuring smile. 

You checked back in with his aura. Still furious. But it was a nice try, you supposed. Logan’s hackles were raised, his chest heaving. This certainly wouldn’t do. “Can I have a moment with you,” you glanced around the room, briefly meeting the other three mutant’s eyes. “Alone?” 

Logan was still staring daggers at Scott. He wasn’t even the one who suggested you were ready to come along. Jean and Charles had approached you this morning. You laid a hand against his arm, hoping to lead him out of the room, but he flinched away. The pang in your heart was immediate. Did he really think you were so callous that you would ever use your powers without his express permission, or some kind of emergency. You could feel the tears starting to gather in the corner of your eye, your arms wrapping protectively around your midsection. 

Jean slipped one arm through Scott’s and took Ororo’s hand with her other, gently leading them out of the room. “We are going to check a few things with the jet, last minute.” She began to hustle them out of the room. “Call if you need anything!” 

The door shut firmly behind them, and you were left alone with Logan, who looked like he was going to start shaking. “I wasn’t going to-”

“You don’t think I know that?” You can’t help but recoil. You have never been afraid of Logan, even when it may have been in your best judgement to be wary, and you still aren’t. But you can’t deny that it hurts when he snaps at you. Especially when you thought, well. You thought you were growing close. You started to turn away, but before you could, a warm hand caught ahold of your arm. “I’m not… fuck.” He took a heaving breath, shaking his head as if he could clear whatever thoughts were bothering him. “I’m not mad.” 

Despite the serious energy of the conversation, you couldn’t help the incredulous look you shot his way. He tried his best to hide it, but you could see the corner of his mouth turning up at you. “Fine, I’m not mad at you.” 

“You know, you really can’t be mad at anyone, they were just doing-” you were cut off when you fell Logan’s hand traveling down your arm, and pushing your sleeve up gently from where it was covering your hand. He slipped his hand into yours and you felt yourself relax a bit. “Just, take a look, yeah?” 

“Are you sure you want me to?”

“I trust you, bub.” You searched his eyes for any sign of hesitancy, but all you found was trust. Complete and utter trust. You nodded, tightening your own grip on his hand. Doing your best not to let the gentle rub of his thumb against your knuckles distract you, you took a deep breath and opened yourself up to his feelings. 

At first you did feel anger, bright red and hot. You sifted past it, steeling yourself. The first time you had encountered such strong anger, you had felt as if you were going to collapse. But you were stronger now, more prepared to deal with these kinds of feelings. The anger was strong, but also surprisingly shallow. In the depths of his emotions, Logan was worried. Terrified. A deep dark purple that made your own hands shake. His grip on your hand tightened, effectively drawing you back to yourself. There was more, a soft inviting pink that you didn’t dare to touch and shiny bright gold, which told you he was proud. 

You opened your eyes, fighting back the heat you felt creeping onto your cheeks. His expression hadn’t changed, pure trust and tenderness. It should have been disarming, or at the very least surprising. Logan wasn’t so open and honest with people. But the two of you had always had different expectations for the other. 

You couldn’t help it, a smile crept over your features. “You’re proud of me?” 

He rolled his eyes, but his smile only grew. He took your free hand in his, pulling you in closer. “I’m always proud of you.” He hesitated for a brief moment, and you did your best to bite your tongue. You could tell Logan had been making an effort to open up lately, and not just to you, but that didn’t make prolonged silences and easier to bear. “I know it’s not my place to demand anything of you.” 

“You’re my… friend.” You cut him off, wincing at the pause. It didn’t feel like the time to pressure him into labeling whatever feelings may be floating around. “And I always want to hear my friend’s opinions. What’s bothering you so badly?” 

“I could hear your heartbeat from upstairs.” Your eyes grew wide, too shocked to try to school your expression. Logan had told you several times that he had learned to block out his enhanced hearing when he was quite young. Usually to tease you when you got on a long tangent about something you enjoyed. He pretended to zone out and ignore you, but he would always remember small details about your rants, bringing them up nonchalantly at a later date  “I, uh, keep an ear out sometimes. Helps with the worry.” 

He worries about you? Even more surprising, he’s listening to your heartbeat like background music to his day. You promise yourself you will ask him about it when you don’t have a room full of your friends waiting on you. “I thought we’d covered this. I can take care of myself.” 

He sighed, bringing a hand to rest gently where your jaw meets your neck. “Sweetheart, I know you can. But that doesn’t stop me from watching out for you.” 

Your hand moved to rest overtop of his. “The good news is that I will have lots of people watching out for me. You know they won’t let anything happen.” You receive a single huff in return. He’s not convinced. “You know that these are the kinds of missions we send the kids on. I’ll be fine.” 

He considers for a moment, before dropping his hand and nodding. “Give me a second to get changed, and we will head out.” 

You grabbed for his hand, but he was already out the door, and moving too fast for you to stop. “Logan, don’t be ridiculous.” 

“What’s ridiculous is you thinking that I would ever let you go out there alone.” 

“As we already established, I have three very capable friends coming with me. I am only going as a contingency plan.”

“Well then consider me the contingency to the contingency plan.” You huffed, following him next door. 

You darted around in front of Logan, pushing against his chest with all your strength, even if you were fully aware that it was the equivalent of a fly buzzing around him. He stopped all the same, eyebrows pulled together in frustration. “I know you’re worried and I know that this is you trying to help.” Logan had his I’m about to interrupt you look on his face, leaving you to shove him again. Thankfully, he understood your intention. “This is important to me. You can’t be there every time, and I have to stand on my own two feet. I want to contribute to the work we do here more than just teaching kids about how awesome Shakespeare is.” The look was back. “Which is still an important contribution.” You added, which seemed to appease him. “But, I don’t want it to be my only contribution. So I am going to go and make sure that this scared kid who is all alone out there makes it back here safe. And you are going to stay here and make sure that everyone gets dinner and help with their assignments. And then when I get back, we are going to have a talk about all this.” 

“All this?” A smile crept back onto your face, hearing the teasing tone in his voice. 

“Oh my god shut up!” He caught your hands before they made contact with his chest, but he was slow to let go this time. He brought the back of both of your hands to his mouth, dropping a small kiss on each one, before returning your hands to your side. 

“If you come back with so much as a bump to the head, Scott’s dead.” 

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, and pointing out that this was exactly what you were talking about earlier did little to sway him. So you gave in, agreeing to give him a full report before slipping your hand into his and tugging him towards the jet. 

“We’ll be back in a bit.” You promised. You could feel the others staring from just inside the jet, but you barely noticed. Logan was checking over your suit meticulously, tugging zippers a few more clicks up and making sure that the collar wasn’t too tight around your neck. He kneeled down, checking to make sure the laces on your boots were double knotted. “Logan,” you laughed, reaching down to tilt his head up to look at you. “I’m too seconds away from sending a lot of exhaustion your way and leaving you passed out in here. You have to let me go, it’s going to be fine.” 

He remained kneeling for a second too long, a look in his eyes you couldn’t entirely place. The sound of the jet powering on broke the both of you out of your trance. He was on his feet in a flash, checking over you one final time. You rose up on your tippy toes, balancing by resting your hands on his shoulders, before gently kissing him on the cheek. You pulled back, nose scrunched up from the tickle of his facial hair. “We’ll be back in a few hours. Hold down the fort for us, yeah?” 

He nodded, pupils slightly blown out and a dreamy look on his face. You giggled, walking backwards for as long as you can before turning around and finding a seat on the jet. You could feel Jean and Scott’s eyes on you as Ororo began maneuvering the jet out of the garage. “Don’t even start.” You muttered, settling firmly into your seat, doing your best to soak up the pride and confidence the others were projecting into the cockpit. 

as always, feedback is so appreciated! if you have any requests for these two/wolverine in general, please leave them here!

next part

[moondirti]

soap goes to the gym in nothing but a muscle tank and a pair of old, worn shorts. it’s the same articles of clothing every time, too. like he has nothing better to wear than the ratty combo, and nothing better to do than taunt you with just how exposed it leaves him.

maybe a case could be made for the shirt. the armholes have gotten stretched with time, you see, and he says that’s good for mobility — even if it does give you an eyeful of side-pec the second he raises his arms. which is fine, you suppose. there’s nothing new about a thick chest carpeted in coarse, curly hair. or about muscled lines that cut down to a man’s armpits, his biceps the size of your head, or the vulgar breadth of his neck when he tenses on the pulley machine. even if it does leave you a little bit dizzy. it certainly isn’t the worst thing in the world.

definitely not the worst thing about his whole getup.

because the shorts are loose too. made of a sweat-wicking material and fitted for aerobic sports. you don’t think he knows that, and if he did, you don’t think he’d care. he prefers the airflow, or so he says. likes the way it keeps him cool while he works up a sweat. you’d be inclined to let it pass, if it weren’t for the fact that he forgoes boxers, too.

and it’s no secret. it must be thick, you think, fat and heavy if it makes such a prominent silhouette even while soft. you catch flashes of it through his leg holes sometimes. from a few feet away, on a water break while he straddles and lays back down on a bench. dark and folded against a burly thigh, trapped between fabric and muscle like it’s straining to escape. or when he’s on the leg press, and deigns to tuck it up behind his loose waistband to get it out of the way; you’ll get a glimpse of the flushed tip of it, always glistening, like he’s perpetually primed for something. perhaps it’s the endorphins that get him so worked up. he fits the mould of one of those freaks.

still. it’s… harder to ignore.

and when you’d once waited to get home before taking your showers, his terrible propensity for exhibitionism almost always ends up with you in the gym’s communal ones, working up a new kind of sweat. cold water beating down your back, hair matted to your forehead, hand shamefully tucked between your legs. biting your lip hard enough to taste blood. you never draw it out, and always cum in a guilty finish, like the world might catch on to your gross, voyeuristic habit.

it’s on one of those days that you walk out of the shower to find johnny — grinning, sweaty, waiting — and realise that it wasn’t the world you should’ve been worried about listening in, but him.

[rafeysbunny]

bf! jj eating you out in the twinkie

your hips buckle impatiently against jj's face, pretty eyes looking through the window of the twinkie to make sure no one's around. he's peppering a bunch of wet kisses all over your creamy thighs, lips gently suckling at the sensitive flesh, which has you panting heavily already.

"c'mon, jay..." you whimper softly, and there's a pleading tone to your sweet voice. "gotta be quick."

only your crazy boyfriend could convince you that it's a good idea to let him eat you out in the back of john b's van in broad daylight, when it's clearly not. not when you're in the middle of a parking lot and your friends are in harbor freight, getting some shopping done for the poguelandia renovation. they could come back at any moment, for god's sake.

"relax, princess. i'll have you cumming in less than five minutes," he whispers cockily, hands sliding up your thighs to push your pretty, floral dress up and around your waist. "just lemme enjoy this for a bit, yeah?"

precisely, it's the dress which has gotten you into this situation in the first place, the piece of clothing making your gorgeous body look so good that jj has been dying to get his hands on you the whole day. "so fuckin' pretty." his warm breath brushes your skin while he talks, his face a few inches from your covered sex, to which he presses a chaste kiss; the action makes you shudder.

he'd keep teasing you with featherlight touches and little kisses for a bit more, relishing in the way your body arches and your hips rock upwards desperately— until he finally hooks his fingers in the gusset of your white cotton panties and pushes them aside gently, exposing your soaked pussy.

"such a dirty girl, huh?" he teases, gliding his fingers through your slit to part your slick folds. "gettin' all wet f'me, knowing our friends could walk in on me eating out this sweet cunt..."

cool air caresses your overheated flesh before he leans in and drags the flat of his tongue up your centre, nice and slow, which makes your whole body shake. your mouth drops open in response as you grab a handful of his soft, blonde hair, hips jerking unconsciously.

he moans at your taste, his piercing, blue eyes locked on yours as he closes his lips around your sensitive clit, his fingers hooking around your supple thighs to keep you spread open for him. you can feel the cool metal of his rings biting into your skin due to his hard grip. that, added to the feeling of his skilled mouth sucking onto your pussy, has your head swimming.

you'd be panting heavily and whimpering in no time, your pussy a sopping mess from your own arousal and his spit. he easily slips two thick digits inside your dripping hole, alternating between sucking and flicking your throbbing bundle of nerves. his fingers crook to rub against that spongy spot at the front that makes your vision blur and your pretty eyes roll back into your skull as you moan, not caring that someone might hear.

the orgasm builds rapidly, the coil in your tummy tightening while your pussy flutters around his fingers and your pretty little toes wiggle inside your converse. as promised, he has you cumming in less than five minutes, the pleasure so much that you squirt onto his handsome face with a whiny whimper, completely soaking everything inside john b's car.

the sight almost makes him cream his pants.

"fuck, jay, how are we gonna clean this shit up?" you'd mutter, still trying catch your breath, just before you both hear your friends' chatter getting close to the twinkie.

hell, you're screwed.

more.