#I just think they fit this scenario incredibly well

[snowballseal]

Hi! I really adore your writing. You have really caught each guys essences.

If your requests are open, I was thinking of something like how each guy would carry you and in what type of scenario. I thought Zayne would do bridal style and Sylus over the shoulder, but if you see it differently, feel free to do it as you see fit 😊

How they would carry you (LaDS)

Note: This was such a cute request!! I had fun writing it, though I definitely rewrote Rafayel's like three times cause I couldn't make up my mind on the scenario. I went with a different idea for Zayne, but I think you'll like it ;)

I really hope you enjoy this! And I hope I wrote them all well. Thank you for the request.

Also, I'm incredibly sleep-deprived, so I apologize for any mistakes/inconsistencies.

---

Sylus *over the shoulder*

“My feet hurt,” you grumble.

“Perhaps you shouldn’t have worn such cheap shoes,” Sylus hums, voice bordering on between teasing and mocking.

You shoot the man a glare. He gives you a smug smile in return, arms crossing over his chest.

Of course he’s right. But you can’t admit that, not after you made such a fuss about ignoring his warning before the night began. You had been stubborn, maybe a little too stubborn. The restaurant you were going to was just so nice, how could you not wear heels? You wanted to look nice for your date, and they paired so well with your dark cocktail dress. Of course you’d forgotten about how much they hate your feet.

Every step feels like a bunch of nails digging into your feet. Why did you park so far away? Oh right, because you thought the night was so nice, you wanted to take a little walk before dinner…Not your best idea in retrospect.

Another step makes you wince.

Sylus suddenly stops. This forces you to pause as well, your arm curled around his elbow as you walk. You glance at him questioningly, trying to hide the pain, not wanting to bother him further by complaining. Or endure more of his teasing.

But his gaze burns over you intensely. You shift a little, heat climbing up your cheeks, but putting your weight on your other foot only makes that prickling pain shoot up your leg, and you can’t stop your lips from twisting into a light grimace.

For a brief moment, Sylus’ face softens. He lets out a sigh before removing his jacket. Your brow furrows as he slips it around your waist, the warmth of the fabric covering your bare legs.

“Sylus?”

“I’m not so cruel as to make a woman suffer, kitten,” he hums, securing the coat by tying the sleeves. He then leans up to your face, lips quirking up into a smirk. “Especially when she got all dolled up and pretty just for me.”

Before you can blush even darker, you’re suddenly being thrown over his broad shoulder. You let out an undignified squeak, instinctively squirming to try and get out of his grip. You kick your legs, hands scrambling against his back.

“Sylus!”

“Careful, kitten, otherwise I might drop you,” Sylus warns, voice dancing with amusement. His hand slips below the hem of his jacket to curl over the back of your thighs, locking them to his chest. You freeze, heart fluttering wildly. 

What a brute.

Though, there’s really nothing you can do to escape this man. Not that you really want to.

“Sylus, seriously, this isn’t funny,” you still whine, trying to keep face.

“Would you rather walk barefoot?”

Your nose scrunches at the thought. While you are in a nicer part of the city, it still sounds gross. You guess this is the lesser of two evils. Letting out a defeated sigh, you prop your elbows against his back to try to get comfortable. Also trying to ignore how defined his muscles feel against you.

Sylus hums approvingly, “There you go, kitten. Just relax.” 

His hand tenderly squeezes your thigh and you’re actually thankful he can’t see just how red your face is. Probably as red as the wine you had with dinner.

It’s definitely embarrassing. Especially when you pass by a few people, catching their odd stares. But it’s hard to care when Sylus starts massaging your legs, his touch overwhelmingly gentle in contrast to his previous actions. His thumb presses firm circles into your ankle, drawing a breathy sigh from you.

“Feel better, sweetie?” He murmurs, and you can feel his voice rumble through your body.

“Definitely helps,” you breathe, “Though you could have just carried me in a more comfortable way, Sy.”

“Now, where’s the fun in that?”

“This isn’t fun for me,” you grumble petulantly.

Sylus shifts, suddenly putting you down. You blink in surprise when you find yourself sitting on the hood of a familiar car, your lover leaning over you. His fingers trace your leg, grazing up your arm, until he can cup your cheek, bringing your faces so close that you can feel the warmth of his breath against your lips.

“And how can I make it up to you, my dear?” He purrs lowly, lips grazing yours teasingly.

“Well-” Letting out a shaky breath, you reach up and slip your arms around his neck. A blush still coats your cheeks, but you give him your best innocent look, pouting your lips as you mess with the silver strands at the nape of his neck. “I think a full massage at home might make up for the discomfort. The last one you gave me was pretty nice.”

Sylus quirks a brow in amusement, “Is that all?”

“Nope. I also want you to watch a sappy romcom with me. Then I’ll forgive your brutish ways.”

That breaks the intense air between you. Sylus chuckles, the sound deep and fond, making you smile. He leans down to press a chaste kiss to your lips.

“I accept your terms, kitten.”

“Good. Now chop chop, mister! Let’s get home!”

---

Zayne *koala style*

“Darling.”

Your eyes flicker open, eyelids heavy. Letting out a sleepy hum, you drag your blurry gaze to meet a pair of warm, hazel eyes. Zayne kneels beside the car, thumb brushing tenderly over your cheek to keep you from falling back asleep. You lean into his touch with a content sound, making him smile.

“We’ve arrived home,” he murmurs, voice quiet, “Would you like me to carry you inside?”

You nod, head still fuzzy with sleep. All you can really focus on is that you don’t want his touch to go away. It feels so nice.

“Alright. Can you wrap your arms around my neck for me, darling?”

You reach out blearily, your fingers blindly finding their way into the soft strands of hair at his nape. Zayne carefully turns you until your legs dangle out of the car, giving him a better angle to slip an arm under you. He picks you up like you weigh nothing, drawing you flush against his chest.

You instinctively wrap your legs around his waist, letting out another happy hum as he readjusts you so you can tuck your face into his neck. One of his hands stays secured under you, the other sliding up to hold the back of your neck tenderly.

It’s almost impossible to not fall back asleep like this. Surrounded by his warmth, his fingers massaging your neck so lovingly, the gentle sway of his body as he walks. Your eyes flicker closed again as you nuzzle deeper into your lover.

You love when Zayne holds you like this. Not that bridal style isn’t nice, but this is just so much closer, so much easier for you to wrap yourself around him. Plus you like the feeling of his fingers gripping your thighs, reminding you of just how strong the doctor is. It just makes you feel…safe.

“Wish you’d carry me like this more,” you mumble thoughtlessly into his neck.

“Is that so?” Zayne hums, a small smile curling his lips.

“Mhm.” 

You press a sluggish kiss to his collarbone to show just how much you like it. Zayne’s steps falter imperceptibly. But you notice, a bubbly giggle escaping you.

“Don’t trip, Doctor Zayne,” you tease sleepily.

He pinches your thigh in warning. “Perhaps a certain hunter shouldn’t be so distracting.”

You squeak, pulling yourself further up by his shoulders. Zayne chuckles, palm smoothing over the spot, though he didn’t actually pinch you that hard. Still. You draw back a little to pout at him.

“So mean, Doctor Zayne. What if I bruise?”

“My apologies, darling,” he murmurs, not at all apologetic. You hold your pout, only weakening when he tilts his face up to brush your noses together. “I’ll be sure to treat it once we get inside. A kiss should do, hm?”

God, he’s so perfect. You’re not sure your heart can take it. The warmth behind his eyes, the small, rare show of affection. It leaves a lingering heat under your skin that turns your cheeks rosy pink, and you duck your face back into his shoulder to hide your blush.

“So, so mean,” you grumble.

A fond smile graces Zayne’s lips. If he’s being honest, he likes carrying you like this. He likes how you feel in his arms, your weight, your warmth, the rise and fall of your chest against his. It’s not often you let him take care of you without complaint, so he takes full advantage of when you do. It helps calm whatever deep-seated need he has to look after you.

The fact that you’re so easy to fluster is a mere bonus.

You settle back into a comfortable silence, barely paying attention as Zayne navigates through your apartment complex. You only notice when he shifts his arm further under you so he can fish his keys from his back pocket and unlock your shared apartment.

He doesn’t bother to turn on any lights as he carries you through your home, straight to your room. You grumble as he bends down to set you on the edge of the bed, your fingers tightening around his neck when he starts to draw back.

“Don’t go,” you plead softly.

“Wouldn’t you rather be in more comfortable clothes, sweetheart?”

“‘m already comfy,” you assure him, leaning against his chest, “Just take your pants off and cuddle with me.”

“What a bold patient I have,” he teases, though his voice dips into a low timber that makes you shiver.

“Get your mind out of the gutter, doctor,” you whisper, a little bashful, cheeks going warm again. “Just don’t want you to stop holding me.”

Zayne softens. His fingers trace along your heated cheek, drawing you back just enough so he can lean down and capture your lips in a lingering kiss. You press into him immediately, a delighted sigh passing your lips when he settles onto the bed beside you. When the kiss ends, you tuck yourself back into his side, content once again now that you get your way. A drawn-out yawn escapes you, and Zayne curls his arms around your waist, guiding you so your head can rest against his chest.

“Sleep now, I won’t go anywhere,” he promises softly into your hair.

“Mmm, love you, Zayne.”

“I love you too, my snowflake.

---

Rafayel *bridal style*

“Oh, “ you chirp, cool air washing over you as you step out of the venue, “it’s raining.”

The two of you were attending the opening night of Rafayel’s new exhibit. You’re surprised you didn’t even hear the rain, considering the streets look about flooded already. Puddles collect along the sidewalk, a small river running along the edge of the road. Paired with the rapidly setting sun, it leaves a chill in the air that makes you shiver slightly.

“I like it,” Rafayel hums and drapes an arm around your shoulders, drawing you into his side. You glance at him, biting back a smile when he playfully avoids your gaze, as if trying to keep your warm might hurt his “cool” factor. “The smell of the ocean is stronger when it rains, don’t you think? And the puddles look like tide pools.”

“They certainly do,” you giggle, “though neither of us are really prepared for the rain. Should we call a cab? I’d hate to ruin these shoes since you just got them for me.”

You look down at the kitten heels you’d worn for the event. They’re so cute, a soft baby blue color, decorated with little pearls. You remember pointing them out to Rafayel on one of your walks down the pier. They were just so pretty, and reminded you so much of him in a way, but the price was out of your range. Not that it deterred Rafayel, of course, who secretly went back the next day to get them for you.

A pair of shoes really shouldn’t mean that much to you, but every gift from Rafayel feels special. You can’t bear the thought of messing them up.

“Hmm, I think I have an easy solution.”

You let out a squeak when Rafayel suddenly ducks and sweeps you up into his arms, bridal style. You instinctively wrap your arms around his neck, clinging to him for dear life at the sudden loss of balance. The sound of Rafayel’s laughter rings in the air, light and full of mirth, as he dashes into the rain with you.

“Rafayel!” You squawk and break into your own fit of laughter despite the icy cold rain immediately drenching your clothes. “Rafayel! Put me down!!”

“I’m already carrying you, putting you down would just be more work,” he teases, that infuriatingly charming smile pulling at his lips. “Now you don’t have to worry about the puddles, at least.”

“But we’re still getting soaked!” You squeal, trying to hide away from the rain by tucking your face into his neck. “Why didn’t we just call a cab?”

“A little rain won’t hurt us, yeah?”

“Says the merman. It’s freezing.”

Rafayel chuckles, the sound close to your ear. Warmth blooms across your cheeks when he presses a kiss to your temple, the touch lingering and soft with adoration, making everything slow down for just a moment.

“Then hold me tight.” he whispers, voice dipping to a low rumble that has your heart racing, “Take my warmth. It’s yours, my beloved bride.”

Any remaining complaints get lost somewhere in your throat. The heat under your skin rivals the cold. A dark blush coats your cheeks, and you try to bury yourself against his chest. You can’t hide from him though, your neck just as rosy, and you can practically feel Rafayel beaming with pride.

Stupid fish.

But he is warm.

You let out a wavering sigh, pressing the cold tip of your nose into the warm crook of his neck. Rafayel shivers, but his hold around you only tightens, as if he wants to envelop you in the heat of his body. It’s almost like being held by one of those heat up stuffies. It’s so comfortable, you can’t help but melt into him, fondness for the merman curling deep inside your bones.

“Do you always run this warm?” You murmur and rest your cheek against his shoulder so you can look at his face.

“Not always,” he hums. A stray drop of rain drips down his jaw and you reach to brush it away. Rafayel’s voice shakes almost imperceptibly at the touch, the tips of his ears going red, “For the most part, Lumerians endure harsh, cold temperatures, so we actually run colder than you humans.”

“Then why are you so warm?” You ask curiously.

His blush only spreads, until his cheeks match yours. The artist glances away, almost looking embarrassed to admit, “My fire evol is useful for more than just fighting wanderers, you know.”

Ah. So he can warm himself up with his evol. And he’s doing it to keep you warm.

The revelation fills your chest with a giddy kind of love. Like, a fuzzy, dizzy kind of love. You bite back the urge to keep teasing him, to see just how red he can get. God, how can you love this man so much? Every new thing you learn about him, every surprise he somehow pulls out of his sleeve, leaves you slipping further into the ocean of affection you’re already drowning in. The rain is nothing in comparison.

“I guess you’re my knight in shining armor, then,” you sigh wistfully, “Against the wanderers and the cold weather.”

“That’s right.” Rafayel puffs out his chest a little, almost like a preening bird. A giggle escapes your lips, and he gives you one of those heart-stopping smiles. “You should really thank your knight in shining armor, cutie. Otherwise I might not feel so inclined to swoop in to save you next time.”

“Well, thank you, Rafayel.” In the blink of an eye, you reach up and draw his face down to yours, capturing his lips in a chaste, yet searing kiss. The artist jumps back, eyes wide as he stares down at your mischievous grin. “Even though we could have just taken a cab and avoided all of this.”

His shock quickly turns into a pout.

“You’re no fun, cutie.”

---

Xavier *piggyback style*

“Really, I’m fine, Xav-”

You wince as Xavier gently flexes your foot, hot pain prickling up your leg. The hunter gives you a rather disapproving look.

“You do not have to lie to me,” he sighs and lowers your foot back down, “I will not think less of you for being injured.”

Heat creeps up your neck, and you have to tear your eyes away from his soft, unassuming gaze. It really wasn’t that bad. While fighting a wanderer, you had dodged an attack too quickly, somehow, twisting your ankle in the process. You couldn’t just stop fighting though, so you had grit your teeth through the pain until you finished the wanderer off, and then collapsed on a nearby rock. That’s when Xavier had rushed over to you, asking what was wrong.

You attribute your embarrassment to the stubborn bit of pride you carry as a hunter, so used to taking care of yourself that you don’t often let others do it for you.

“I’m really okay, it’s probably just a sprain,” you grumble, “I’ll ice it when I get home.”

“And how exactly do you plan to get home?”

Your nose crinkles. Right. Glancing back at Xavier, you find him looking at you with a small, rather amused smile, eyes sparkling with mirth. The little punk. He really can be mischievous when he wants to, huh?

But you do not have an answer to his question. So you just shrug, letting out a heavy sigh. You’ll just have to rely on him this time it seems.

“Would you like me to carry you?”

Immediately, your blush spreads up your neck, painting your cheeks rosy and warm. Eyes wide, you look at him incredulously.

“Xavier, that’s- I don’t- What?”

“I can carry you.” The hunter tilts his head, much like an adorable puppy. Your heart flutters at the sight. How are you supposed to resist that?

“I mean,” you hesitate, scratching the back of your neck, “if you think that’s the best solution…”

“It’s the simplest one,” Xavier hums, quickly standing up, pulling you carefully to your feet as well.

He turns around, ducking a little so you can get on his back. You hesitate again, though.

“Are you sure?” You ask, voice wavering.

“Positive.” Xavier looks at you over his shoulder. That gentle smile curls his lips again. “Who wouldn’t want to carry a pretty girl on their back?”

God, you hate him sometimes. Shaking your head, you gingerly step closer. You curl your arms tentatively around his shoulders, careful to avoid his neck so you don’t choke him. Then you jump. Xavier catches you with ease, fingers slipping under your thighs to hold you as he stands up straight again. It only takes a moment for him to find his balance as you get comfortable, your chin tucked over his shoulder.

He hardly seems affected by your weight. Like he’s carrying a light backpack. It eases your consciousness a little.

“I always forget just how strong you are,” you mumble.

Xavier holds back a shiver at the way your breath warms his ear. His fingers tighten around your thighs though, thumbs massaging circles into your skin. You hum softly, facing tucking into the collar of his uniform. This is nicer than you thought it’d be.

“You could take a nap until we reach our destination if you’d like.”

“No,” you sigh, though you do feel suddenly exhausted, “That wouldn’t be fair. I want to keep you company.”

“Mm, okay. Then what should we talk about?” Xavier peeks at you, amusement curling in his chest at the thoughtful pout you give.

“How about…what we’ll get for dinner tonight? We did complete the mission, afterall, we deserve a treat.”

A low chuckle escapes the hunter. Tilting his head, he presses a chaste kiss to your cheek.

“Whatever you’d like, my star,” he hums, fondness warming his usually calm voice, “Is there something you have in mind?”

“That new diner opened down the block from us, we could try that!” You suggest, excitement lighting up your features, like a kid in front of a christmas tree. You look at him, smile brighter than any star he could compare you to. “What do you think?”

How could he ever resist you?

“Mmm, sounds delicious.”

“Perfect! We’ll go there then!”

You spend the rest of the walk back to the transit station talking about what dishes you might order, what movie to watch as you eat. Anything and everything. Neither of you notice the odd looks you get, too comfortable to care.

You all but forget about the pain in your ankle. Why focus on that when you can focus on the absolutely charming man willing to carry you all this way?

---

Can you tell which characters I main based on this? Just curious.

[lilithslittleworld]

New To This

A/N: I made a poll a few weeks ago about wanting to write a new smut with several different scenarios/characters with a winner of "Jacob Black x Reader"!

I initially wanted to write a really steamy, sexy scene but it ended up evolving into a steamy but also loving/fluffy sex scene! *i feel like this is werewolf Jacob meets cute, pre-wolf Jacob* I hope you all enjoy ;)

(PS: Nessie does not and will not exist in this fanfic, aka you and Jacob will live happily ever after. Also both of you are 18 or above ).

Summary: A few weeks after Bella and Edward's wedding, Jacob teaches you how to cliff dive. You're sure you could teach him a few things too...

The wind howled viciously, sending your hair flying in every direction and shivers that racked your body. You stepped closer to the cliff's edge, peering slightly over to catch a glimpse of the angry waves below.

Jacob stood behind you, his arms crossed over his bare chest as he scowled at you. "This is a terrible idea," Jacob huffed, his dark eyebrows pinching in worry.

Jacob never wore shirts, or at least that's what it seemed like. "It was your idea," you reminded him. Jacob glared at you in response but took a step forward.

"You're really going to do this, aren't you?" he asked, a smirk tugging at his lips. It was a silly question to ask, since you both knew the answer.

"You better believe it," you grinned back at him. You pulled off your thick coat, leaving it folded on a rock beside Jacob's truck. You two would have to come back up for both sooner or later and the idea of being weighed down by a water-soaked winter coat didn't sound ideal. Your boots came off as well, for good measure.

The cold made your hands sting, turning your knuckles an angry red as you stood in your thin, long sleeved shirt, jeans, and socks. Jacob on the other hand, stood comfortably, despite lacking a shirt and in shorts.

"H-how are you not freezing?" you asked incredulously, your teeth chattering, "It's the middle of December!"

"I'm just a little hotter than most," Jacob winked at you, holding out a hand. "Ready whenever you are."

You rolled your eyes at him but brought your hand to his. You couldn't help but notice how much bigger they were, most of Jacob was anyway. They were also exceptionally warm just as you had expected. Maybe he did run warmer than the rest of people...

"Okay," you breathed, as Jacob guided you both to the cliff's edge, the waters below you lapped furiously at the rocky coast, "On the count of three. One, two, th-"

And suddenly you were falling. You screamed at Jacob for not having respected the countdown but it was useless, the fall was short and the wind howled even louder as you plummeted into the cold, dark water.

Your body sank like a stone, the weight pulling you down deeper into the frigid water. You thrashed your arms, desperate to make it to the surface once again. Thousands of little ice-like knives sank into your skin with every movement. You wondered how Jacob was handling the cold. But there were more important things to think about now. You were running out of air.

Now only a few feet from the surface, you felt a strong arm pulling you up towards it at an incredible speed. Your head broke through the surface, your mouth opening automatically to gasp the free air greedily. As your panic started to ebb, your sight began to unblur slowly, taking in your surroundings and the breathless boy before you.

"Y/N!" Jacob gasped, partially due to the little stunt he'd pulled with the jump, having swam around to find you, and worry. "Can you hear me?"

You nodded quickly, taking into account how clogged your ears were. "I'm good," you croaked, followed by a tamer fit of coughing.

Jacob wrapped a protective arm around you, dragging you along with him as his legs and free arm paddled you both towards the shore. You protested at first until it became clear that you were unable to swim that distance and that Jacob would never let you go.

"That was fun," you noted cheerfully, as the ocean floor below you began to rise enough for Jacob to stand. It would take you a little longer to reach.

"Yeah, well it's never happening again," he scoffed, wading out of the shallow water, "You could've died." You watched as little water droplets dripped from his short hair down his toned back and shoulders, secretly hoping swimming with him would happen again soon.

It was no secret that you were attracted to Jacob. Besides, he rarely hid the fact that he was interested in you as well. You two had met at Bella Swan's wedding. It wasn't a great introduction, to say the least, but it eventually blossomed into whatever this was. Jacob was always honest about what he felt but he had never made any grandiose confessions or even really specified what you were to him, apart from a girl he liked. He was careful around you.

Jacob's voice interrupted your thoughts and so did the cold. "You're going to freeze to death if you stay in there," he called out, a hint of superiority in his voice.

"Stupid fireboy," you muttered under your breath, as you dragged your nearly numb legs forward. He was right. Your fingers had started to turn blue and you became aware of how little of your body you could feel.

"What was that?" he grinned, amused at your suddenly cranky mood.

"Oh, I know you heard me," you hissed, swatting his arms away as he tried to pull you into them. "Stupid supersonic hearing."

Jacob laughed, clearly still thrilled. "Come here," he said, scooping you into his arms. You were so grateful for the warmth that radiated from his skin that you said nothing as he carried you across the woods.

"I could teach you thing too, you know," you said sullenly, watching the little beach disappear from your sight.

"I'm sure you could," he replied, "But no one's teaching anyone anything until you're out of these wet clothes and showered."

Your heart skipped a beat at his words. Was he intending to shower with you? You had never done more than makeout with this boy but the idea of him in a shower with you sent your pulse overboard.

Neither of you said anything else until Jacob's house. You had never really been inside before. Any ideas you had of it were based on the little you had been able to see when you peeked through the front door, waiting for Jacob in other occasions. Now, you stepped through the doorframe, taking in the small but cozy house.

Jacob walked you towards a little wooden door. "My room," he noted quietly, scratching his neck embarrassed, as you peered inside. It had a twin bed, a wooden desk, and a handful of tiny, wooden sculptures. On his bedframe, right above his pillow, hung a delicate dreamcatcher.

How many times had you imagined his room? Now you were in it, your past daydreams and fantasies coming to life.

"Do you want to shower first?" Jacob asked, pulling out a clean towel from the bathroom closet. Oh.

"Sure," you said, hoping he wouldn't pick up on the slight disappointment that dripped in your voice. This was, after all, the first time in his house, he wasn't going to rush into anything just because you were here.

Showering brought back the humanness in you that had been lost to the cold. Your skin returned to its normal feel, slightly tingly from the warm water and you could now feel every inch of yourself. You lathered yourself up in soap, scrubbing extra in all the places that might be the slightest bit smelly. You washed your hair too, getting rid of any sand or seaweed that had found its way there.

You wrapped yourself in the large towel that Jacob had given you, grateful that it covered you almost entirely. With the edge of the towel, you wiped away a circle on the foggy mirror. You looked almost the same as you had this morning, which was a relief.

Jacob sat on his bed, fiddling with his hands as you tiptoed into his room.

"You can go," you said softly. Jacob looked up at you. You could tell he was trying his hardest to keep his eyes on yours. A hint of blush spread along his face, as his eyes made their way down from your mouth to your neck and finally landing on your collarbones.

Jacob stood up quickly, pulling pieces of clothing from his drawers. "Cool," he smiled at you, "Don't go anywhere."

Jacob's room felt cozy, even with just you in it. Your hands unfolded the lumps of cloth he had laid out for you: one oversized t-shirt and a pair of what seemed to be old boxer shorts. You pulled them on gratefully, now really feeling warm and cleaned up. They smelled like Jacob, a scent that sent your heart into an excited flutter.

The sound of running water sent an excited shiver down your spine. You had imagined Jacob showering so many times on your own, taking your time to really focus on what he did in there. If only you could see him now. The idea of Jacob naked now, made your breath hitch in the back of your throat.

The silence broke your train of thought. Jacob would be back in his room in just minutes and here you were, fantasizing and hyperventilating over him. You sat down on the edge of his bed, making an effort to take deep breaths, an attempt to look as normal as possible. You sat awkwardly on the corner of his bed, trying hard not to be suggestive or the opposite of that.

Jacob walked in, his hair still damp and holding the tightly wrapped towel around his hips. Your eyes made their way to where his towel met his bare skin, your imagination wild. Seeing him now was so different to all the other times, this time there was almost nothing between you except a little towel, ironically.

"Enjoying the view?" Jacob's voice pierced the deafening silence but his playful tone didn't match his eyes. His deep, dark eyes burned into your own, a want behind them that was almost palpable. You felt your face growing warm at his words but there was not an ounce of regret in you.

"I think you're wearing far too much clothes," you answered boldly, an answer he seemed to enjoy as you watched a smile creep onto his lips.

"You're one to talk," he chuckled, turning away from you as he searched for his next change of clothes.

"I think that's an easy problem to solve," you said softly, pulling off the boxers you wore and tossing them over to him. Jacob caught them easily, pulling them on quickly before dropping the towel.

You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion. He was getting dressed, not undressed. You felt stupid now, feeling significantly naked despite the dress-like shirt that covered you.

Jacob seemed to pick up on your puzzled expression. He ran his fingers through his hair nervously, exhaling before he spoke. "I've never done this."

It actually came as a great surprise that Jacob was a virgin. You had expected him to be fairly experienced, given his attitude and the obvious physical attractiveness. Now you were thrown off your game.

"I-I really thought you had," you confessed, "A few times actually."

Jacob shook his head, his eyes still trained intently on the floor. "Never really got the chance," he said softly.

A pang hit your heart. Jacob seemed truly embarrassed and almost hurt. It had never been your intention to make him feel bad about the matter. You knew something had hurt him far before your had come along. You didn't know much about his past attachment to Bella Swan but you were sure that she wasn't a person that had brought him much joy during that time.

"It's okay, Jake," you assured him gently, "I was just curious but it doesn't matter."

Jacob brought his gaze up to you, his eyes soft. "I'd like to try but I don't want to hurt you, Y/N."

"You won't hurt me, Jake," you replied, walking over to him before reaching your hand out to his. He took your hand in his, the warmth of his skin spreading all over you.

You pulled him towards you, your eyes never leaving his. "You have to promise me that you'll tell me if I hurt you," Jacob said earnestly, his grip on your hand tightening faintly.

"I trust you," you whispered, wrapping an arm around his neck, placing your other hand on the side of his face.

Jacob leaned his face against your hand momentarily before taking your face in his hands, pressing his lips softly against yours. It was no surprise that his lips were just as warm as the rest of him. A shiver ran down your back as you kissed him back, your lips moving gently against his. Your hands found their way to his hair, running your fingers through it. Jacob groaned, pulling you closer to him, his breath quickening. Soon, every bit of you was touching him, every inch of skin against him. You could feel the little droplets of sweat beading on your forehead and running down your back from the heat of his body.

The need for him gnawed at you, the flutters in your stomach grew as Jacob took you into his arms, your legs straddling his hips. A ripple of pleasure went through you as you made contact with his hardened length, barely concealed by the boxers you'd thrown at him earlier. Jacob walked you over to his bed, his strong arms holding you up against him, his lips never leaving yours. He laid you down slowly, placing a steady hand against the mattress on either side of your body.

You brought you lips back to his eagerly, hoping he wouldn't be as careful with you anymore. You knew you weren't going to get anywhere as long as Jacob tiptoed around you. You were going to set the pace. Your kisses deepened as you ran your fingertips lightly down his neck towards his chest, Jacob's breathless sighs mixing with yours as you touched him. Your fingers trailed down along his chest, making their way towards the edge of his boxers. You could feel Jacob's stomach quivering as you brought your touch closer to him. You wanted so badly to feel him trembling beneath your hands.

You dipped a finger under the band of his boxers. He felt so much warmer than anywhere else. You wanted to feel that heat everywhere. Jacob's breath hitched when your hand came in contact with him, so hard and hot on your fingertips. Instinctually, you wrapped your hand around his throbbing length, not surprised its size. He was so big. You brought your gaze back up to Jacob, who now had his eyes shut tightly and eyebrows furrowed in pleasure. You watched him as you gave him lazy, long strokes, practically drooling at the noises that came out of his mouth. He looked so beautiful, so lost in your touch, his muscular arms beginning to shake as he kept himself propped up above you. A finger rubbed softly against his already wet tip brought a strangled moan out from Jacob. Your strokes became quicker, mesmerized at the feeling of him growing harder in your hand.

Jacob slowly began to come undone above you, his whole body shaking as he held himself up above you still. "Please," was all he could coherently plead. And you loved it. Seeing this vulnerability in Jacob was something you were not expecting and it only made you want him more. Your strokes returned to the slower pace you had started with, knowing he was just minutes away from cumming.

Jacob opened his desire-filled eyes as your hands came to a stop. You pushed him back gently, your hands on his muscular chest, until he was sitting on his knees. You propped yourself up on your elbows, pulling his shirt off of you, as Jacob watched you with wide eyes. Now fully exposed before him, excitement coursed through your veins. Jerking him off had made the heat pool between your legs almost impossible to ignore. You were desperate for any sort of release and you were going to get it.

You laid yourself back on the bed, Jacob still kneeled at the foot of it, his eyes trained on you, running up and down your naked body. Slowly, you ran a hand down your chest, pausing to squeeze your boobs before trailing your fingers down your stomach. Your legs parted, knowing very well what view Jacob would have from where he sat. And you began.

After years of knowing your body, touching yourself was simple and well known. Your fingers brushed your clit lightly, gasping at the shock that ran through you. The circles started slowly, pacing yourself as the tightness in your stomach began to build. You lost yourself in the pleasure, not holding back the moans that sprang from your lips. You knew very well Jacob too, was touching himself. You could hear it. The noises of his slick hand running up and down his length, mixed with his soft groans and breaths.

You opened your eyes to the vision of Jacob touching himself, his eyes dripping with lust as he watched you do the same to yourself, the veins on his arms bulging from the movement.

"What are you thinking about?" you asked slyly, looking up at him through your eyelashes.

"You," he panted, his chest rising and falling as he responded.

"Mmmm," you breathed, "What about me?"

"About touching you. Tasting you. Being inside of you and making you feel so good," he said, his deep voice strained as he tried to contain himself.

"I want you to," was all you said.

Jacob was back on top of you in the blink of an eye. He was everywhere. Kissing, touching, and licking every inch of you. He felt like the sun, spreading a delicious warmth all over you. His mouth was on your stomach, parting your legs with his arms before trailing down to your inner thighs. You wanted him so badly and he knew.

His mouth found your clit, giving it a light lick as your eyes rolled back, gripping his hair tightly. You moaned as you felt Jacob's tongue drawing circles, your hips bucking involuntarily seeking more.

"Mmm," Jacob hummed, sending vibrations through your core as he did. You were so close.

"Wait," you breathed, your mind foggy from the pleasure. Jacob looked up at you, his expression slightly worried.

"Is everything okay?" he whispered, his mouth still wet from you.

"Kiss me," you commanded, pulling him to you eagerly. Your lips met in a frantic effort, tasting the sweet, slightly salty taste of yourself on his lips. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pressing your body against his, moaning softly at the feeling of his hardened dick against your bare stomach.

Jacob rolled over onto his back, his hands on your hips as you now straddled him. Your hips moved automatically against his, brushing your clit against his cock, your wetness dripping onto it.

"God," Jacob groaned, his fingers digging into your hips as he guided your movements to an even quicker pace. "So hot."

"I need you," you breathed, throwing your head back as you neared your orgasm again, "Inside of me."

Something snapped inside of Jacob as you moaned those words. His hands fumbled to find a condom on tiny nightstand beside his bed, wasting no time in pulling it down his cock. You lifted your hips as he positioned himself below you before pulling you down for another kiss.

"Are you sure about this?" he murmured, his eyes searching yours as his thumb stroked your cheek.

"I am," you replied, kissing him gently.

"I love you, Y/N," he whispered against your lips. Your heart leaped.

"I love you too, Jake," you sighed back.

You lowered yourself onto him slowly, taking time to adjust to his size, listening to Jacob gasp as you took more of him in. He stretched you perfectly, the tip of his dick hitting your G-spot as you started to tentatively bounce up and down him. As you sped up, Jacob's hands found your boobs, taking them into his mouth as you moaned his name, his hands snaking their way down your back.

"Jake," you moaned, as his tongue swirled around your hardened nipple.

"Tell me," he groaned, "Tell me how good I make you feel."

"So good," you panted as Jacob's lips found your neck, biting your soft skin gently.

"That's it," he pleaded, "Ride me just like that. Please, Y/N."

Your hips were moving at an incredible speed, bringing you so close to the edge. You could feel Jacob's cock twitching inside of you, signaling his approaching orgasm.

"I'm gonna cum," you whined, no longer worried about what you said or how. All you could think about was Jacob.

"Mmmm, cum all over me," he breathed, his fingers gripping your ass tightly as he made you ride him even faster. It was all too much. Jacob inside of you, Jacob groaning your name, his breathless pleads, the heat of his body. Your orgasm shook through you, you threw your head back and cried out in pleasure. Your sight even blurred momentarily. Jacob's orgasm quickly followed your own, your name falling from his lips repeatedly as he buried himself deep inside you one last time.

It took you both a few minutes to catch your breaths, entangled in a sweaty mess as you did. Jacob stroked your hair softly and you traced imaginary swirls along his chest.

"So," you began, "you love me?"

Jacob laughed, his whole body shaking and ultimately shaking you as well. "Of course I do, Y/N."

You shrugged. "You'd never mentioned it."

"Well, my past love confession didn't go too well," he sighed, "Which I know is unfair to you but I wanted to use those words carefully this time, especially with someone as special as you."

"I understand," you smiled, propping your head on your hands to meet Jacob's gaze, "It's just nice to hear is all."

"It's nice to say," he said, his smile reaching all the way up to his eyes.

"Hmmm," you said thoughtfully, "Are you going to tell your dad?"

"Got nothing to hide," he winked at you, "I'll tell all of Forks if I have to."

"Jake!" you squealed, though you knew he truly would. Jacob was the showing off type.

"Kidding," he said, poking you in the side, "Unless..."

"Knowing you, you'll probably call the local radio or put up posters," you rolled your eyes at the idea of either of those happening, "Why don't we go cliff diving again tomorrow?"

Jacob's smile tugged even harder at the corner of his lips. "I've got an even better idea. Something you taught me today."

-----------

A/N: honestly I didn't know how to end this oneshot I'm so sorry it's a little meh :/ but I really loved writing Jacob x Reader sm I might turn it into a oneshot series!!!

[faevi]

can u do make up sex with saturo

SAPPHIRE LOVE. - (gojo smut)

Scenario: Gojo Satoru is your boyfriend and you were excited to celebrate your fifth year together in a fancy restaurant. It’s a pity that work seems to always come first. Satoru accidentally missed the date and left you feeling insecure. Can he make it up to you?

Word Count: 9,230 words.

Content/Trigger Warnings: female reader (she/her), angst-ish (not too bad imo), sadness, over-thinking, insecurities, fear of losing one another, fluff (does this need to be warned?), cheesiness, romance, love, sex, unprotected sex, consenting sex, make up sex, cum inside, cock-warming, praise, teasing, finger sucking, cunningulous, fingering, handjob, big dick, mentions of bulging (it’s fiction ok, it’s hot), side by side sex position, intimacy, crying, absolutely smitten for one another.

I think that’s it…? I never know what needs to be warned, lmao. Please (kindly) let me know if I missed anything!!

Note: I hope you like it, anon!! Please do let me know if you do (: Or well, that goes for anyone. HAHA, i’m a sucker for praise so I get happy if I hear someone enjoyed it. Personally, don’t think it’s my best work and that I can always do better ; ; . So forgive me. I’ll continue to try hard! Please enjoy <3333 Thank you for the request!

MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS, PLEASE DO NOT INTERACT!!!

Your soft hands cup your own cheeks as you continue to sit at the reserved table, customers slowly filtering out of the restaurant around you. Sadness clouds your gaze, staring blankly at the candle that is slowly melting away. It’s already closing time and the staff are looking at you with nothing but pity. It’s embarrassing. You keep your head tilted down, taking the last gulp of wine before you sigh heavily. He’s not coming. How foolish of you to think he would.

You bunch up the tightly fitted red dress that you decided on for this special occasion before you stand up, ignoring the ache in your feet from wearing heels and grab your glittery clutch that matches the shade of your dress. Everything new, bought for this special occasion. Tears burn your eyes but you hold your head high, refusing to let the humiliation overwhelm you. You approach the counter, pulling your wallet out of your clutch.

“Oh, you don’t have to pay, it’s on the house.”

You stare at the waitress, soon glancing around to other staff members who pretend to look busy with cleaning and stacking dirty dishes. Humiliating. “I wasn’t stood up by a first date if that’s what you’re thinking. My boyfriend is just— a busy man. Let me pay, please.” You insist gently, silently wondering why you defend your boyfriend out of instinct. The waitress nods before preparing the machine and gesturing for you to tap your card, smiling. You hold it until you hear the beep before moving towards the door. “Thank you.” You say, ignoring how your voice wavers and finally part from the restaurant. You practically had to run out in hopes of ignoring their hushed whispers. You’re sure you’re their entertainment for the night. The girl who gets stood up for the night.

It’s not the embarrassment of being noticed that gets to you. No. It’s the fact that it happened. Your boyfriend not turning up. The pair of you had this dinner planned for months. It’s one of those restaurants that are just booked out every single night. Hell, both of you were excited to try the food… and to celebrate the fifth year together. You grip your clutch tightly to try and prevent your hands from shaking as tears blur your vision. It’s hard to walk in the heels on the pavement and you debate about taking them off. You should be calling for an Uber. It’s far too dangerous at night and you could practically feel eyes in the alleyways undressing you, but you just struggle to think of anything else. All you can think about is him.

Why? Why did this have to happen? You know that Satoru is a busy person. Incredibly busy and there were times in the past that he ended up accidentally missing, but he insisted that he’d be there for this one. Maybe that’s why it hurts so much. He said he’d be there with you. Still, even with your heart aching and tears down your cheeks, smearing your make-up; you found yourself not feeling angry. It’s more of a disappointment and a reminder that maybe you’re a lonely person despite having a loving boyfriend. He’s barely around, even when he tries. Insecure thoughts start to blossom in your mind. Is he intentionally avoiding you? Did he find someone else? Does he not want you anymore or worse… Does he not love you anymore?

A small hiccup escapes, trembling hands coming up to rub at your eyes frantically, smearing the make-up and teeth gritting. You shouldn’t be looking so vulnerable and easy for the taking on the streets that you continue to walk on. Would he even care if something happened? You start to feel a struggle to even breathe, chest so tight with heartache and worries. Butterflies are dead in your stomach.

“Y/N!”

You whip your head around from hearing a familiar voice. His voice. Satoru is standing there, hunched over with his large hands gripping onto his knees and panting heavily. He’s in his work clothing, tie loose around his neck. Hope briefly sparks at the sight of your boyfriend before it comes crashing down from realisation. He missed the anniversary date. You look away from the white-haired male, avoiding eye contact. You don’t want him to see you in such a mess. “Did you forget about me?” You ask quietly, voice wavering. He’s only able to hear you speak because it’s so late at night and the roads are quiet.

“What? No! Babe, I tried— Work was so busy, they kept asking for me. It’s hard to say no.” Satoru tries to explain, his own heart clenching from witnessing you look so miserable in front of him. He exhales out shakily, standing tall as he approaches, his hand reaching out towards you. You angle yourself away, arms crossing across your body as a way to protect yourself or more of a way to try and contain your insecurities and overthinking thoughts. You don’t want to bother him with them. Work is more important than you, after all.

It’s like a sharp stab to his heart, hand dropping to his side and already looking defeated. You’re angry with him and rightfully so. Satoru won’t try to argue back this time. He fucked up. You went out to buy a new dress for the special night. Even bought a clutch to match and styled your hair. You were clearly looking forward to it. Satoru can’t deny that he was also excited but, when an entire company relies so heavily on him… He forgot momentarily what really mattered to him. You keep your face tilted away, your hand wiping at your clammy face. “I’m really sorry, Y/N. I didn’t mean to cause you pain. I never want to see you in pain and to be one that caused it— I won’t let it happen again.” Satoru says softly, hastily stuffing his hands into his pockets to restrain himself from touching you.

“Work seems to be more important than me, Satoru. It’s always work. You’re always there. Rarely with me. Is it selfish of me to wish I was prioritised first? I feel like you don’t love me anymore.” You mumble out quickly, feeling defeated. Satoru’s crystal blue eyes widen with absolute horror at those words. He feels outright disgusted. Never by you, but the fact that he’s somehow forced you into a position where you think such nasty things. Awful lies. “Y/N, please. You are the most important to me. Don’t love you? That’s not tru—”

“I’m going to stay at a friend’s place tonight, okay? We can talk about this later… I just— I can’t do it tonight. Not after being left alone… I understand it was work.” You say quickly, pulling your phone out to call for an Uber. Even that feels like an impossible task because of how hard your hands shake. You feel like you’re too deep in your current heartache to be able to process anything he says. The insecurity triumphs over the truth. Satoru’s long fingers push through his hair, turning away for a moment as it’s too painful. Hearing those words and you pulling away from him. Fuck. It’s all his fault.

“Okay, can we talk tomorrow? Please?” Satoru pleads, nails scratching over his scalp and he shivers at the burning sensation. He’d rather have any form of physical pain than this mess at the moment. You look over at him briefly, phone clutched to your chest. His brows are knitted together to form a frown, lips puckering slightly. It’s hard to deny him. Always has been. “Tomorrow.” You confirm quietly, looking down at the screen. Thankfully, an Uber driver accepted that it was just around the corner. You won’t have to stand in awkward silence. The silver vehicle slowly pulls up in front of you and before you can reach for the handle, Satoru is already opening the door, gaze intensely focused on you. “At least text me when you arrive safely, too. I need to know that you’re safe.”

Your heart jumps a little, the gesture reminds you of when you first met him. He accidentally slammed a door in your face before frantically yanking it open. Since then, he always opened doors for you. Your free hand rests over his larger one on the car door, staring down at the touch you give. “I’ll text you.” You promise before pulling away to settle down in the back seat of the car. Satoru’s eyes are filled with sadness; desperately hoping that he’ll be able to fix this. He closes the door gently and watches the car drive off, hands pulling at his white hair in frustration. He severely fucked up.

---------

A day ended up being a few days before you were ready to face the music. It simply took you this long because you found yourself worrying that everything would turn for the worse and you’d end up losing him. Funny how your brain works when he is the one who missed the anniversary date. You should be the one who is angry and making that giant of a man drop to his knees and beg for your forgiveness. Anger just isn’t who you are, though. Never. If you’re haunted by negativity, it’s always sadness. Insecurities and doubts. Jealousy. You turn into this little monster of overthinking and tears. Why would he want to be with someone like that? Especially when you had to ask just for a few more days.

Satoru eagerly obliged your request and you wonder if it’s because he wanted a break from you. In reality, you wish your mind would just agree that it’s because Satoru is secretly a gentleman and an amazing lover. He would agree with anything you say, even if it pains him. It’s funny how different he is with you compared to when he is with others. That should just be a clue shoved in your sniffling face to know how he really feels.

You sigh out softly, mindlessly rating the Uber driver the typical five stars and a tip, before pushing the door open and stepping out. It’s evening already on a Friday night. You doubt Satoru is home, but you’ll wait for him. The sun is already slowly starting to set, the sky a gorgeous hue of pinks mixed with reds. Thankfully the sun is low enough behind the apartment building that you don’t have to squint. Your hands tighten on your handbag and you enter the apartment complex after typing in the code to the building. Quietly, you entered the elevator that was already on the ground floor and pressed for your floor. You slump against the elevator wall, watching the number increase. Even your heart starts to increase, anxiety pumping through your veins.

You hate feeling so nervous. Your hands start to feel clammy and your knees tremble. What if he really does leave you after realising there’s no point trying? What if work is more important? You exhale out a shaky breath, cursing to yourself and bring a hand up to wipe the tears that threaten to spill. The elevator doors slide open and you’re finally on the floor of the apartment that you share with the white-haired male. He won’t be home yet, even though you messaged him that you were coming home a few hours ago. You’ll have to wait up on the couch, watching each minute tick by until he’s home as well. Sometimes you wish you could choke his workforce.

You slide the key into the slot and twist it around until you hear a click, slowly opening the door. Out of habit, your gaze focuses first on the alarm and is ready to type in the code; except the alarm wasn’t on… You see glimmers of light in the corner of your eye and finally turn your head to look. You choke on your own gasp of shock, hand coming up to cover your mouth. Tiny candles in glasses line up along either side of the hallway, rose petals of red and white scattered across the wooden floor and gentle music filtering through from where the spacious lounge and dining room are.

“What…” You mutter, soon letting out a small laugh of disbelief as you slip out of your shoes at the entryway and begin to walk down the hallway, eyes fixated on the petals and trying not to crush any of them. Does this mean Satoru is home? Surely, he’s not that reckless to leave unattended candles and… does this sweet gesture mean something good? You finally enter the main area of the apartment and Satoru is standing there, looking rather awkward yet hopeful as he gazes at you, hands twisting.

Satoru is beyond nervous. He has been since watching a stupid Uber drive you further away from him. It’s his fault, he knows. He heard you enter and the gentle shuffling of your feet down the hallway and here you are, right in front of him. You look beautiful, even in ordinary clothes. Your gaze is brief on the surroundings. More candles are scattered around the apartment, bouquets of roses in vases and you even notice a small box on the coffee table. You look at Satoru, confusion on your face as you move closer to him, heart swelling at the sight of his nerves. Satoru is never nervous.

“I thought you’d be at work.” You begin, dropping your bag on the couch and standing in front of him, smiling softly. Your insecure thoughts begin to gently wash away and ease your mind. Satoru laughs, rubbing the back of his neck for a moment. ‘Stay calm’, he thinks to himself. He towers above you when he’s closer, coaxing you out of your jacket, smiling. “Took the day off. Actually, took all of next week off, too.” He responds, draping your jacket over the edge of the couch. You stand there, mouth gaping and watching as he casually steps behind you, large hands clasping your shoulders and guiding you over to the dining table. Satoru never takes days off.

That’s when you notice that dinner has been prepared, and displayed so beautifully. It’s spaghetti and garlic bread. Something simple and smells so good. Most friends and co-workers always doubt if Satoru has a romantic side and you’re just thankful that it’s a private side that you get to see. Although, it’s usually just very small gestures. Nothing this grand. You wonder if he thought all of this up by himself. You press your lips together, not daring to ask yet. Satoru is clearly on edge and you start to feel guilt bubbling up inside of you. You made him wait anxiously, which feels so wrong; even if you were drowning in your own doubt and sorrow.

Satoru could practically see the wheels turn in your head, giving your shoulders a gentle squeeze before moving to slide your chair out. “C’mon, sit.” He says, nodding towards the chair. You smile softly before you sit down, shifting as he pushes the chair in. “Satoru, honey. You— You didn’t have to do this. I’m sorry—“ You pause when he raises his hand to stop you, settling down across from you. Satoru knows you like the back of his hand and just knew you’d try to apologise when you’re not to blame. Rarely to blame for any conflict. This is his fault and while he can be often clueless to how people feel; it’s like he’s hardwired to be aware of your feelings. Hence his desperation to make up to you.

“I suck at expressing myself, you know that. But, I want to try right now.” Satoru says, crystal blue eyes steady on your face. He reaches out across the table to tenderly take your hand in his. “I shouldn’t have missed our date, Y/N. Simple as that. I shouldn’t ever be so busy that it gets in the way of time with you. You have always been my priority. The most important part of my life. It’s not an excuse when I say that work tends to manipulate my ass into staying busy— Yeah, the strongest being manipulated sounds like a lie.” He chuckles softly when he sees you raise your eyebrow in questioning, thumb caressing lovingly across your knuckles. “Truth is, I let it happen because all I can think about is being able to support us in the future… It just bounced back hard in my face. Again, not an excuse. This is on me entirely.”

You sigh softly, squeezing his hand. “Satoru, it’s okay..” You trail off and Satoru shakes his head. “You forgive too easily, y’know? It’s one of the things I love about you.” He expresses, gaze softening. You feel your cheeks heat up, flustered by the accurate callout, but also that it’s rare to hear him be so serious with his feelings. Satoru is never shy nor backs down from expressing his feelings. It’s just not so often like this. It’s often playful or to reassure you. Naturally, though, it does reassure you now. You always found it nice that he didn’t have some fragile masculinity despite being the charming male you first met him as and other people often assuming he’s a stereotype. A man who isn’t afraid of feelings. You adore it.

“I am sorry, Y/N. That I missed our anniversary and caused you to be in such a humiliating position. I know it probably wasn’t easy sitting there alone. It was a special night and I ruined it. I’m sorry that I caused insecurity— Nah, you don’t even need to tell me. I just know you felt them.” He sighs out softly, letting go of your hand. Satoru reaches for the bottle of wine, already popped and ready. He pours the deep red liquid into each glass. “I want to be a better boyfriend. Really. No more missing dates. More time with you. Fuck work, honestly.”

You let out a laugh, startled by his change of attitude. “You love that job, Satoru. I’m no fool.” You say, taking hold of the glass of wine, and gently swirling the liquid. “Yeah, but I love you more. I told work that no more calling me in on the weekend and that every second Friday was off. They can try and reject it… They won’t, though. They need me too much.” Satoru says rather cockily, grinning against the rim of his glass of wine. You widen your eyes from hearing the news, almost choking on your wine. “Y- You don’t have to do that!” You express hastily and the white-haired male shakes his head, broad shoulders shaking.

“I don’t, but I want to. I care more about you. Simple as that. This may be me trying to make it up to you, I won’t deny that. It’s also that I want more time with the one I love. We won’t live forever. Time is precious.” He says, taking a sip of his wine. “Try the food. I struggled over the stove for this.” Satoru jokes and you roll your eyes. Satoru is good at everything. Including cooking. It’s all a breeze for him. You sit up in your chair and twirl your metal fork in the noodles before leaning down to slurp them up, moaning at the delicious taste of the sauce.

Satoru shifts in his seat from hearing you, taking a gulp of wine before setting the glass down. “Good to know it was a success.” He snorts quietly and you kick him lightly under the dining table. You smile towards him before looking down. You should be honest. You quietly eat, trying to gather your thoughts before you speak. “You know me too well, Satoru. Sometimes it’s like you can see right through me. I did end up being insecure. Instead of being angry, like most would be… It’s like my mind instantly just goes down the other route. I worried that I was too much, I expect too much and want too much. When you didn’t show up, I blamed myself. I even worried that you found someone else… I panicked that you were going to leave me tonight. That our relationship was too much of a hassle.” You distract yourself by twirling your fork through the spaghetti noodles, unable to meet his sad gaze. “I could never be angry at you, but I’m selfish. I do want more time and I find myself hating your work.” You confess quietly, tearing off a piece of garlic bread to nibble on.

Satoru’s long fingers stroke down along your forearm before taking hold of your free hand. “Work won’t get in the way anymore, I promise. No more fuck ups, unless it’s together.” He jokes lightly, prompting you to snort with amusement. It’s even the little things that he says that make you feel better. “I could never be out of love when it comes to you. It’s like you produce an infinite amount inside of me.” Satoru continues, not expecting you to toss your garlic bread at him, feeling flustered. “What’s with the cheesiness? Come on, eat this delicious meal you cooked.” You whine and Satoru chuckles, wiping crumbs off of his shirt. Deep down, you love the cheesiness and maybe that’s why it’s easy for him to say it.

You both continue to eat the dinner he prepped, not afraid of the silence that falls between you both. It’s comforting, really. You feel as if the weight is lifted off of your shoulders, worries wiped away from not only his promises but also for the evening he prepared. Eventually, you set your fork down in the empty bowl and lean back, hands rubbing your stomach which now feels full. “Did you plan this all by yourself?” You ask, watching Satoru awkwardly puff his cheeks out and look off to the side. “Partly. I may have googled for ideas on how to make my girl happy, after causing her unnecessary sadness... Though, I think I could have easily come up with this on my own.” Satoru grumbles lightly, toned chest puffing out.

Your smile is soft, endeared by his childish behaviour sometimes. It’s cute that he wants all the credit. “Google isn’t taking any of this away from you, baby.” You say, voice laced with sweetness. “I love it, really. It’s sweet of you to do this. Better than a dinner in a fancy restaurant.” You continue and Satoru rubs his hands along his toned thighs. Still, he regrets immensely for missing such an important night. “Google didn’t help me with one idea, at least. It was all mine.” The white-haired male stands up, shuffling over. He didn’t bother with pulling your chair outright. Instead, his arms loop under your armpits to easily hoist you up, coaxing out a few giggles. “What are you doing?” You laugh, feet dragging along the wooden floor as he moves towards the couch, dropping you onto it.

Satoru, pleased by your adorable giggles; leans down to press a kiss to the top of your head. “Wait there for a moment. I know if we leave the dishes out, it will drive you crazy.” He teases, moving to the dining table to stack up the empty dishes before bringing them to the kitchen. Satoru finds himself quite frantic as he stacks them into the dishwasher, not wanting to be away from you. He already had to suffer a few days without you. You stretch your limbs out across the couch as you wait for your boyfriend to return to you, thinking that you shouldn’t have left for a few days. Why did you do that? Especially when it feels like you can’t breathe when he isn’t around to provide you with life itself.

Satoru sets the dishwasher before eagerly returning to yourself, nearly slipping on a few of the rose petals. “Fuck—” He blurts out, laughing along with you. The tall male sits next to you, large hands reaching to pull you in close by your waist, refusing to leave a gap. The knees had to at least be touching. Butterflies begin to flutter in your stomach when you notice the way Satoru is gazing at you. With all of the warmth in the world. Everywhere out of this room must be so cold. “You’re the prettiest, you know that? When I first met you, everything just clicked and I knew you had to be mine.” He says, voice low and soothing. You glance down out of shyness, nudging the tall male. “You slammed a door in my face.” You remind him and he grimaces, large hands cupping your cheeks. “Forgive me for that. For everything.”

You lean forward, nose nudging against his before pecking his lips. “Always. That’s what love is about.” You whisper against his lips. Satoru pulls away for a moment, grinning. “Love, right.” Satoru pauses before he reaches for the small box on the coffee table. “Before you go freaking out, it’s not what it looks like. I wouldn’t want to do that after we had a moment of falling apart.” Satoru says, opening the box to reveal a simple silver ring. It has two dainty flowers wrapped around one another, sapphire stones sparkling gently in the middle. “Satoru..” You breathe out in complete awe from such a pretty ring. You couldn’t even process the fact that he’s already starting to slide it onto your finger. “A promise ring. Eternity ring? It’s whatever. It’s me saying that I promise to love and be with you for eternity. To never leave, yeah? A promise to spend more time with you, because I want to.” Satoru says softly, thumb gently gliding across the ring on your finger. One day, he really will marry you properly. Not just some promise ring.

You feel your bottom lip start to tremble, eyes fixated on the sapphire ring before you launch forward, wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing your body against his bigger frame. Satoru arches an eyebrow, soon grinning towards you. “I love you. I’m going to find my own ring for you. I want to promise that I won’t ever leave you either. You’re mine.” You whisper, fingers tangling into his silky hair before you press your lips against his, pouring every bit of love you feel for the male and hoping he can feel it all.

He can. Satoru, a man who is an absolute sucker for your kisses; slowly melts into the couch, hands on your waist as he returns the loving kiss. His soft tiers move slowly against your pair, tilting his head to deepen the kiss. He could taste the red wine that lingers on your lips, but it was not the alcohol that left him feeling intoxicated. It’s you. You both seem to kiss for a long time, tongue sliding into your willing mouth, exploring every inch of it and happily tasting more. He finally manages to part from the kiss, now swollen lips dragging along the length of your jawline as he whispers. “Let me make it up to you further, Y/N. Let me show you how deeply I love you.”

You whine softly, fingers curling into the fabric of his dress shirt to pull him against you, lips forming a natural pout. “You don’t need to make it up to me anymore… I’m not against you showing that, though.” You purr softly, nipping at his sharp jawline, nose nuzzling against his cheek. Satoru chuckles, hands sliding down to firmly cup just beneath your ass and lifts you up with ease. He blindly carries you to the shared bedroom and you can’t stop the giggles from escaping when he accidentally bumps into the walls several times. “Hush, hush.” Satoru groans dramatically, smiling against the side of your neck. He adores your giggles.

Your arms are draped over his broad shoulders, leaning into every kiss that he plants against your lips, sighing out softly. He’s always been an amazing kisser. It reminds you of your first date with him and how you couldn’t get off his lap because you just wanted to spend those hours lost in a kiss with the white-haired male. Satoru lowers you onto the bed you share together, one arm wrapping around your waist to hoist you up further until your head meets the pillows. His long fingers dip beneath your shirt to soothingly stroke, free hand planted against the pillows near your head.

“You’re going to be my pillow princess tonight, understood? Your pleasure is mine.” He mutters, eyelids feeling heavy as he glances along the length of your body beneath him. Fuck, he’s missed you. You huff, fingers already twitching with the need to touch but if there’s someone who is more stubborn than you; it’s definitely Gojo Satoru. He won’t even let you near his cock until he says so and it just feels so unfair that you can’t provide him with pleasure in return. Even if he claims that he finds it through blessing you with pleasure. It’s also not fair simply because you’re obsessed with his pretty cock. If it’s not stuffed inside of you and filling you up to the brim? You want at least some sort of body part touching it.

A grin lingers on his visage when he witnesses your mental struggle, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips. “You’re too cute,” Satoru says before he begins to leave a trail of wet kisses along your jawline, teeth scraping against the sensitive flesh. You squirm a little as he travels down further, lips refusing to leave your neck. Instead, he sucks gently on your skin, tongue gliding across the warm surface and pulls back slightly to blow against the wet saliva that he left behind. You whine from the cold sensation, fingers curling into the front of his dress shirt. Satoru murmurs his praise and you’re barely able to process it. You just feel all floaty and good when he touches you.

Satoru’s cheeks hurt from smiling too much. Relief tends to wash over him in soft waves when he realises that you still belong to him and that you didn’t leave after his mistake. Final mistake. He doesn’t want to hurt you anymore. Not that he wanted to hurt you in the first place. He shakes his head to snap out of his thoughts, strands of hair tickling you. It’s over now. What’s important is to show you how much you mean to him. His lips latch onto the side of your neck once more, this time to suck harshly enough for a hickey to appear, repeating the action a few more times.

“Feeling possessive?” You pant out, toes curling as a pitiful way to contain yourself through his loving abuse. “Mm, always.” Satoru purrs, utterly oblivious to your hand skillfully unbuttoning his shirt until he feels the fabric drape against you. He pulls away to kneel above you, looking down at his now exposed upper body. You hungrily take in the beautiful sight of his chiselled abs and unblemished skin. So soft and begging to be touched. Your index finger playfully drags along the v-line that leads down towards…

He snatches your hand up, fingers curling around your wrist and pulling away. “You sneaky minx.” Satoru laughs, endeared by your cheeky behaviour. “Can you wait your turn like a good girl?” He asks, waiting for you to huff and nod your head. Satoru lets go of your hand before deciding to shrug out of his shirt, tossing it to the side to forget about it completely. Large hands caress along your sides. “I’m not wearing a bra.” You comment ever so casually and soon met with your shirt being peeled off of your body, lifting your arms to help with taking it off. “Fucking hell, you’re not.” Satoru groans, cock twitching in his slacks from just gazing down at your pretty breasts.

His hands were quick to cup them, eager to squeeze the squishy mounds and watch as they filled up the gaps between his fingers. Satoru’s hold is firm and his massaging is a mixture of gentle and rough, wanting to coax out your needy, filthy sounds. They slip from your couplets easily. You arch up into his touch, brows furrowing when he pinches the sensitive buds and twists until you cry out from the aching pain. He continues to tease your nipples, sliding his body down until he’s half laying on top of you, tongue flicking against the bud. A numbing sensation spreads from your nipples and pleasure straight to your core. You’ve been the sensitive kind since you could breathe and despite that, you always chase for more. Especially by your boyfriend’s hands.

“Is teasing making up to me, ah…” You moan out breathlessly, one hand fisting the blankets beneath and Satoru laughs, the sound muffled as his tongue continues to sweetly drag and swirl around each of your nipples. “In a way, yeah. ‘Cause you’re a little masochistic princess who enjoys being riled up and teased.” He says as he presses your breasts together to bury his face against your soft mounds. Flustered, you nudge your knee against his crotch, causing him to grunt out loud. You could be just as ‘evil’ with your teasing.

Satoru’s hands continue to tenderly squeeze and massage your breasts as he presses kisses down the length of your body, lips parted to allow saliva to seep out, each kiss left against your skin wetter than the one before. You giggle softly, feeling a light ticklish feeling spread across your stomach. Blindly, fingers thread through his silky hair to pull on, nails scraping along his scalp. Satoru has many addictions and each one involves you. Always you. Even when he continues to kiss up and down your midriff, silently worshipping your beautiful body with his touch. His tongue danced along your warm skin and teeth latching onto the softness so he was able to suck harshly, craving to mark you all over.

“Baby, come on..” You whine out quietly, feet kicking against the mattress. “What is it? Want more? Mm…” Satoru trails off, fingers hooking beneath your pants and begins to tug them down. “Bet you’re already soaked,” Satoru whispers, excitement pumping through his veins at just the thought. Fuck, he wants to see. You manage to help him tug your pants off until you’re only left in a pair of cotton panties in a soft red. His grip on your inner thighs forces your legs to spread and he lets out a low whistle of approval, lustful gazes fixating on the dump patch across your panties. You seem so needy just from how it nearly covers the expanse of your panties.

“Barely touched you and you’re soaking. Way to boost my ego, baby girl.” Satoru chuckles, shifting himself low enough so his face is directly in front of your covered pussy. He tilts his head to pepper kisses along your inner thighs, edging closer towards your womanhood. Of course, being an impatient girlfriend; you try to angle yourself so he’s already touching you where you deeply crave him. An utter failure as he easily pins you down with a hand against your hip, not needing to use much strength. You’re just so weak compared to him. You love it.

“You’re so pretty, Y/N. How did I get so lucky..” His voice is low and hushed, nose pressing against the damp patch and inhaling deeply. You smell delectable. The flat of his tongue drags across the covered pussy several times, eyes on your body to watch as you squirm, clearly chasing for more. Too cute… The tip of his tongue presses against the fabric until you gasp from the scratchy feeling of the panties making contact with your throbbing clit. His palms stroke along your thighs as he’s relentless with his teasing, refusing to move the panties.

Needy whines spill from your lips frustrated that you’ve yet to feel his actual mouth on your dripping cunt. It seems he finally takes pity on you, lifting his head. “Do you value these panties?” He asks, finger running along the edge of them. “Nn, no…” You answer, almost sounding like a question. One rough tug and you process the sound fabric ripping before you realise what just happened. Satoru rips the panties with ease, thinking it is far easier than having to move you around just to slide them off delicately. “That was hot.” You blurted out, watching him toss them to where the other discarded clothing lay.

Lips twist to form a smirk from your words, though he’s distracted. Completely. All he can focus on is the gorgeous sight of your bare pussy, dripping with your juices. “Fucking perfect and all mine to devour.” Satoru groans and wastes no time to dive in. He’s a pussy eater through and through. The world would have to try and take him down to stop him from eating you out. Sometimes, he thinks he’s made for exactly this. He refuses sex if there’s no chance to eat you out. This is a need. Your high-pitched moan laces with his breathless one, head tilting back on the pillow as his tongue eagerly laps up your juices, dragging between your slick-covered folds.

Already, your sweetness coats his lower face as he keeps his face buried between your quivering legs. Long fingers part your folds, tongue breaking the strings of slick before his wet muscle swirls around your bundle of nerves. You feel sharp shocks of pleasure spread from your core, whimpering loudly. Your fingers grip hopelessly onto his white hair to try and ground yourself as Satoru’s lips move against your sopping pussy. He always eats you out like he’s a man who’s been starved for weeks, refusing to pull away, even as he feels the painful tug on his hair. You taste so sweet, filling up his mouth as his tongue easily gathers enough of your juice to swallow. Always happy to consume.

Satoru’s nose rubs light against your clit now, moving his mouth until his tongue could drag along your hole, swirling around the tight rim of it. You feel too blissed out to even be flustered by the sounds of him slurping, the tip of his tongue pressing against your entrance and sending vibrations as he moans. Two hands come up to cover your face momentarily, unable to truly contain the pleasure you feel as it washes over you in constant waves. “Satoru…” You moan out sweetly and it encourages him to grind nice and slow against the mattress to feel some sort of ease for his raging erection.

The friction of the fabric rubbing against his cock leaves him moaning your name, already feeling the eagerness to be buried inside of you grow. No. He must take his time making love to you. His thumb presses against your clit to rub in a circular motion, soaking in the sight of you squirming against the bed and unable to escape. Not that you’d ever truly want to. It’s just when your body feels so sensitive to the pleasure; you need Satoru to pin you down. His tongue continues to lick nice and slow, only flicking quickly against your clit between movements of his thumb rubbing it.

“P-Please, just let me touch you somehow..” You beg through a whimpering moan, eyes threatening to roll back from the ecstasy. Satoru hums, deliberately slowing himself down before pressing a loving kiss to the bundle of nerves and pulling himself off. Your body that’s been sent through a high slows down, feeling sad that you couldn’t orgasm. Still, maybe this means he is obliging your needs. You smile, eyes full of love swirled with hope and doing the grabby hand gesture towards him.

Satoru melts at the sight. How could he say no to his girl? “Alright, alright. Miss needy. We’re doing it my way, though.” He warns lightly before his hands roll you onto your side and you raise an eyebrow in questioning. Satoru simply flashes his signature grin, unbuckling his pants before swiftly kicking them off, along with his underwear. He sighs with relief from his length finally being free. Instantly, you look down towards it hungrily, already wishing to wrap your fingers around the fatness of it, fingers tracing along the protruding veins. He says nothing as he lays down next to you, facing you. Your face heats up when you realise his lower face is still wet from being busy between your legs. You feel your pussy clench from it. “What? Getting shy on me?” Satoru says rather teasingly, guiding your leg upwards slightly.

With the way Satoru positions himself, his throbbing cock is now pressing against your stomach and his hand has complete access to your pussy, despite your thighs clenched around his wrist. “Come on, baby girl... You’ve been wanting to touch me.” He urges, long fingers gliding up between your dripping folds once more before he begins to gently rub your clit. You tremble, mind wiped blank momentarily from the tiny jolts of pleasure. Soon, you manage to wrap your fingers around the base of his length, always admiring how the tips of your fingers were barely able to touch. Your boyfriend has not only a pretty cock, but a big one, too. All yours to have.

Your hand strokes upwards, noticing the pre-cum beading at the tip and rubs the head lightly with your palm, watching the way Satoru’s brows already begin to furrow and biting down on his lip. The head of his cock is your favourite to tease. “You’re so big, Satoru..” You whisper, pressing your body up against his cock, slowly grinding down against his fingers that tease your entrance. If there’s one thing that really gets Satoru going, it’s praise. Whether for his bedroom skills or just how obsessed you are with his cock. His heart jumps from hearing your words, grinning a little. “Mm, yeah? Bet you can’t wait for me to fill you to the brim then. You always get so needy, even when I’m already fucking you.” Satoru mocks, sounding like someone knocks the wind out of him just from you spreading the leaking pre-cum along his cock as you stroke him, nice and slow. The white-haired male looks down towards your hand, finding it looking so cute wrapped around his cock. Barely. Even cuter with the glittering ring on your finger. All his. Forever.

You gasp softly, feeling two of his long fingers finally press against your entrance until they sink in slowly, velvety walls stretching around the new invasion and you squeeze around him. Satoru curses beneath his breath, already desiring to be inside of you with something much bigger. He can’t, though. He wants to take his time with making love to you tonight. You lean forward to press a loving kiss to his bare shoulder, nose lightly nuzzling against the warm skin. You close your eyes, focusing on how heavenly it is to feel his fingers pump in and out of you slowly, slightly restricted by your clenched thighs. Clearly, he refuses to let that stop him entirely.

His loving gaze refuses to leave your visage, taking in everything. The way your eyebrow twitches when he pushes his fingers in deeper or how your eyes widen in awe from the way he seems to finger you so perfectly compared to previous shitty partners. It’s like he knows everything about your body without question. What leaves you breathless and your mind spinning. Quietly, he angles his wrist, fingers searching for— Ah, there it is. You cry out suddenly, walls clenching around his fingers that are relentless with rubbing against your sweet spot. Thighs quiver and stroking hand stutters along his thick cock. It’s so hard for you to focus, your hand movements becoming sloppy as you curl forward, grinding down against his digits.

Satoru didn’t care about the sloppy handjob. Hell, it still feels good. The warm and snug feeling wrapped around his length leaves him craving for something more. He wants you. He wants to make love to you until all you can see is him amongst the stars. To feel nothing but sweet ecstasy. He stretches his fingers out slightly against your snug tight walls that are coated with your own excitement. You rub your palm weakly against the head of his cock, face tilting to bury into the pillows, muffling your filthy moans. The white-haired male is gritting his teeth, feeling his cock throb more than ever before. “Now…” You manage to moan out, looking towards him in a daze.

Usually not one to take orders, Satoru obliges. He slides his fingers out, rubbing them together to feel your slippery juices coating the length of them. Quietly, he leads them up to your face, tapping against your lower lip. Your face feels hot and never one to disobey, even his silent commands; you wrap your lips obediently around his two digits, moaning at the taste of your own sweetness. You eagerly suck on them, tongue dragging between and along each finger. Satoru watches with complete fascination, lips parting slightly in admiration. Fuck, even prettier when you suck on his fingers like some needy creature. Your lips are snug around his fingers, sliding off until there’s an audible pop and all you can taste is yourself, a string of saliva connecting from your lips to his fingers.

“Fucking hell… No condom, right?” Satoru hastily asks, eager to get going. Usually, neither of you wants the use of a condom, but it’s sweet that he still asks you. “Nn, make love to me and breed me, handsome.” You whisper, arms snaking around his neck. A string of curses falls from his lips, adjusting himself against the mattress. He guides your leg further up and around his waist, giving him access to position the tip of his throbbing erection against your pussy. Unable to resist, he grinds slowly to feel his length rub between your folds, enjoying the sensation. “Satoru.” You whine, giving his shoulder a squeeze.

A low chuckle escapes. “Impatient.” He scoffs lightly, though soon positioning himself properly; the head of his cock pressing against your tight entrance. One hand rests against your bare thigh, holding your leg against his waist and he leans in to rest his forehead against yours. His eyes meet yours, coaxing your heart into beating faster. You keep your body relaxed as much as you can, knowing that it’s always going to be a stretch with him. “I love you..” Satoru says quietly and before you could respond, he presses his hips forward and you feel the head of his length push in until finally, his cock sinks into you, stretching your snug tight walls out completely. A silent cry is ripped out of you, hopelessly clinging onto his muscular body, nails digging into his back.

No matter how many times you both sleep together. The stretch of your walls always feels so new, the pleasurable feeling becoming addicting. He groans quietly, forehead still pressed against yours as your slick-covered walls clench around his throbbing cock. Your breath mixes with his as you both pant. His hand on your thigh caresses soothingly to ease your body back into relaxing, cause fuck sometimes he swears if it wasn’t for his amazing stamina; he might come like some virgin feeling pussy for the first time. You’re so tight. Amazingly tight. Warm, too. He wants to keep himself buried inside of you at all times, if he could.

You keep your arms wrapped around him, leg hooked around his waist and a breathless moan of his name leaves your tiers when you feel him start to move, his cock thrusting slowly. The white-haired male’s fingertips dig into the flesh of your thigh, the other arm wrapped around your middle, between your body and the mattress. He groans, feeling your tight walls drag around his cock as if your body alone is refusing the mere idea of not being able to feel his throbbing thickness. Satoru keeps his thrusts slow and deep, refusing to go too rough. Maybe it’s silly but, he genuinely wants to show his love for you and if it means not doing the usual eagerness to break you in; he’ll do the opposite. Besides, his heart feels elated to just exist along with you. To connect with you.

You both embrace each other lovingly, your hand rubbing along his back and enjoying the gentle waves of pleasure that leave you all tingly, toes curling. His cock refuses to go halfway. No, he slides all the way out, hips pushed back before slowly pushing in until you feel full to the brim, hand against your lower stomach to feel it bulge from his thickness. No one’s ever reached so far. He grunts when you push down, feeling your walls wrap tight around his slick-covered cock, prompting him to tighten his hold on you as a pitiful way to contain himself. “You’re so beautiful, you know that?” He pants out, leaning forward to scatter light yet loving kisses all over your face, smiling when you giggle between your needy whines.

“You’re— ah.. more beautiful… love you so much..” You manage to mewl out, eyes rolling when you feel the head of his cock meeting that sweet spot every time he thrusts into you deeply. Drunk off of the pleasure, all you can do is cling to him, babbling out your love for him between moans. Your sweet reactions, along with your tight womanhood; make it so difficult for him to keep it slow, hips stuttering as you squeeze around him. “Fucking hell..” Satoru moans out, letting go of your thigh to take hold of your hand. His eyes fixated on the sapphire ring, pressing a tender kiss to it. You witness the sweet gesture and your heart just melts for this man. For Gojo Satoru.

You should never have doubted him. Why would he ever leave you when he makes love to you so sweetly? When his kisses leave you breathless and positively dizzy? When he goes out of his way to make a romantic dinner. You forgave him that night. The second you saw him holding onto his knees and panting heavily. He tried to make it in time. Even if it did hurt you. At least, he promised work won’t ever get in the way of your love journey anymore. You love him. You’re so in love with this man that you’d die for him. Not that he’d ever let that happen. With the overwhelming love and pleasure, the tears that made your eyes sting, spill down your cheeks.

“Pretty girl.” Satoru laughs, letting go of your hand to tenderly cup your cheek, thumb wiping away the tears. It didn’t stop him from fucking you deep. Utterly endeared by you, Satoru leans in to capture your lips with his own, kissing you sweetly. He didn’t care about the saltiness of your tears mixing with the lingering taste of your juices as he kissed you, lips moving against yours and tongue easily sliding into your mouth. Your moans are muffled, responding to the kiss with eagerness as you begin to roll your hips, meeting each of his heavy thrusts and squeezing so tightly around him. It’s like constant jolts of ecstasy that leave you tingling and crying into the kiss, loving the feeling of his length stretching you out.

“F-Faster, ‘Toru, wan’ feel you pump me full.” You whine against his lips, tongue rubbing against his in a lewd manner. It didn’t take much begging, really. You have him wrapped around your pinky and he’s eager to do whatever you crave. He loves you deeply and is even driven by relief that everything worked out between you both. He shouldn’t have worried, knowing you were made for him and he was made for you. Soulmates. His hips begin to snap forward, both arms wrapped around your middle now as he fucks into you, his throbbing cock sliding in and out of you steadily, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the bedroom, laced with heavy panting and loud moans.

Your breasts are unable to bounce from the hard thrusts, pressed against his chest as you both continue to cling, refusing any form of gap. Sweat coats both of your bodies, head tilting back and eyes rolling from feeling his cock pounding into your velvety tightness. You’re so wet because of the white-haired male, that the sounds of squelching are unavoidable. He’s panting heavily, swollen lips dragging along your bare shoulder. You don’t know how much more you could take, desperately trying to hold your orgasm back. “Don’t hold back, Y/N—” Satoru pants out, crystal blue eyes focused on your face and you whimper, face scrunching up.

With his thickness steadily pounding into you, it only takes one more deep thrust to send you swiftly over the edge. You choke on your gasp, nails clawing down his broad back as you desperately try to hold onto him through your orgasm. It crashes into you hard, leaving you breathless and your body feeling electrifying as you tremble hard. Your walls around his thrusting cock clench repeatedly, causing him to grit his teeth and fuck you hard just a bit further, his stomach feeling tight. “Good girl, fuck— so good. Love you— fuck.” He groans loudly before a final thrust has him spilling into you, thighs tensing up and shaking. Satoru holds you against his body, keeping his cock buried deep inside of your hole as ropes of sticky cum shoot from the tip of his cock and fill you up.

You feel even more full, not thinking it could be possible. You moan out sweetly, feeling a complete daze as you slump against the tall male. His hands are gentle as they caress along your bare back, pressing soft kisses to your shoulder between his heavy pants. Slowly, he continues to thrust into you, riding out his orgasm. His cum now paints your inner walls white and sticky, dragging along his length. Your leg manages to stay hooked around his waist, head dropping onto the pillow as you sigh happily. Quietly, Satoru makes movement to slide out of you. You refuse it by squeezing around his length in warning. You love the feeling of being so full of him.

“Stay inside of me..” You mumble out shyly, refusing to meet his stunning blue eyes. His gaze softens with the love he holds for you and naturally, he stops. Cock-warming? He wouldn't refuse staying inside of your tight pussy. He lays down properly next to you, head sharing the same pillow. Blindly, he finds hold of your hand, thumb caressing the ring momentarily before he laces his long fingers with yours to give a squeeze. Your eyes meet his and you smile, leaning in to peck his lips. Satoru leans in, craving to kiss you further and you giggle softly. Everything feels good between you both now. Comforting to know, that you both made up to each other and no insecure thoughts linger in your mind. You love each other; that is definitely proven.

You couldn’t wait to spend eternity with this man, Gojo Satoru.

[delulujuls]

brazilian air | as12

hi, i am in my classic f1 era rn and i am currently obsessed with mr Senna god he was so fine and since it's his bday today i thought that im gonna upload this one bc why not

also im like 100% sure that this one will flop but i wanted to upload this anyway, so if you'll find it worth a shot, enjoy then!

happy bday king, 64 today but 34 forever, you'll always be missed

summary: during a month break from racing, ayrton thought that inviting y/n into his family sides will get them along even more. to the surprise to both of them, they got along even better than expected

warnings: sexual content, fingering, female orgasm

pairing: fem!mclarendriver x ayrton senna

After the Sao Paulo Grand Prix, there came a monthly break, even though it was only the second race of the season.

The end of march was very warm, but the weather in Brazil had its own rules. Just as in London there was probably a downpour and the temperature barely above ten degrees, the other side of the globe had almost holiday-like weather.

The 1990 season was the second year when Y/N took Alain Prost's seat at McLaren, thus becoming Ayrton Senna's teammate. While many did not look favorably upon Ron Dennis's decision for various reasons—because Y/N was the first woman in history to have the opportunity to race at the top level of motorsport, her debut in Formula 1, her young age, and the fact of what kind of past Senna had with his previous teammates—with each passing month the doubts started to going away.

The girl handled herself on the track incredibly well, and since McLaren did not disappoint with their cars, she practically returned from every race with points, effectively shutting the mouths of all those who spoke unfavorably about her.

Even Ayrton himself, who was initially the most unconvinced about the boss's decision, also didn't need much to change his mind about her. At first, he approached her with distance, fearing that her joining the team might cause even more damage than when they had Prost in reserve. As it turned out, the girl was not his enemy; often, he himself silenced all those who attacked her and questioned her abilities.

Senna saw that she looked up at him as her authority. She never explicitly told him, but it was evident how she listened carefully to his advice, asked when she had doubts, and consulted almost everything only with him, although she had a whole crowd of people around her.

Ron breathed a sigh of relief seeing that they tolerated each other and there were no forecasts for them to repeat the Senna-Prost scenario. However, tolerating each other was an understatement, because Ayrton would never invite someone to his family's sides whom he merely tolerated. The Brazilian didn't admit it out loud, but he liked the girl. Sometimes he even caught himself thinking about her when she wasn't around, and when she was, he smiled a lot more in her company, whereas McLaren's garage used to be a place of nerves and tense atmosphere for him.

Yes, if someone asked him about Y/N, Ayrton would say she was his friend. Someone he never had after leaving Brazil.

"How do I say in Portugese that I can't eat anymore?"

The girl asked, lying on her towel stretched out on the hull of the motorboat belonging to the Senna family.

Y/N shielded the sun with her hand and glanced at Ayrton, who laughed at her question, sitting next to her and smoking a cigarette.

"It's not funny, your mom wants to fatten me up so that I'm heavier and slower than you on the track."

"Não aguento mais, tô chei", but even if you say it in Portugese, my mom won't listen to you anyway."

"I've never eaten such delicious food, but when we get back, I probably won't fit into my clothes anymore."

He released smoke from his lungs and involuntarily glanced at her when she turned onto her stomach and closed her eyes. Her hair, still wet from bathing in the lake, stuck to her shoulders, and her skin, once pale, slowly began to take on a blush from the sun.

"You look good, so don't worry."

"I didn't say I would look bad, just that I won't fit into my pants anymore."

"As long as you can fit into the car, you'll be fine."

The girl snorted, "Well, in that case, I have quite a reserve."

Y/N gathered her hair behind her shoulder and settled more comfortably, exposing herself to the pleasantly warming rays of the sun. Ayrton glanced down her body and only when the heat from his cigarette burned his fingers a little, he snap out of it. Did he really like the girl, or was it just that he spent so much time with her that he got used to her? He didn't know the answer to that question, but he knew that sometimes he found himself staring at her for a bit too long. Despite being a few years younger than him, she had feminine charms. He also objectively thought that the girl was attractive.

She didn't have much of a different opinion about him either because in her eyes, Ayrton was indeed a handsome man. He was tall, athletic, had beautiful brown eyes and hair of the same color, which often fell in curls onto his forehead. She liked his smile and the way he wrinkled his nose, which, like most of his body, was covered in freckles. But Ayrton appealed to her only as an older teammate, someone who was completely out of her reach, and for whom she was probably just an insignificant kid. At least that's what she thought.

They spent time at the lake until late afternoon, as for dinner, besides Ayrton's parents, his sister with Bruno, his nephew, was also supposed to appear. Upon returning to the Senna family's home, the girl took only a quick shower and threw on a thin, white dress because even though the day was slowly coming to an end, the temperature was still high. They spent the evening on the terrace, and time passed in a very pleasant atmosphere. Mrs. Senna made sure that only delicious dishes appeared on the table, while Mr. da Silva entertained the company with stories and jokes. Although Y/N didn't speak anything in Portugese except for the short phrases Ayrton had taught her, there were no communication problems for a moment. At one point, little Bruno grabbed the radio and turned up the volume, pulling the girl by the hand and inviting her to dance. The girl, already somewhat tipsy from wine, agreed without hesitation and followed the six-year-old, dancing with him barefoot on the still warm concrete. Ayrton's mother and sister sang along with the song, his father clapped his hands, and Ayrton himself looked at the scene with tenderness, laughing and sipping his beer. She took the boy in her arms and spun with him, dancing, to which Bruno laughed out loud. Although Ayrton's family had only met Y/N a few days ago, he was convinced, seeing with his own eyes, how much they liked her. It meant a lot to him.

"Tio, agora tio Ayrton!"

Bruno shouted and pointed at the man when a new song started playing. Ayrton laughed and shook his head, to which his sister started pulling his arm and, to the sounds of approval from the family, he stood up and approached the girl, who put the boy down on the ground.

"Querida senhora," he extended his hand towards her, slightly bowing, "may I?"

Y/N chuckled and nodded, extending her hand, which was met with numerous shouts and whistles.

"I can't dance, I can't dance at all."

She said through laughter when he pulled her closer and placed his hand on her waist.

"Everyone can dance to Brazilian rhythms, trust me."

Ayrton replied with an assuring smile and spinned her around, catching her again after a moment. They danced, understanding each other without words, laughing only when one of them accidentally bumped into someone or stepped on someone's foot.

The girl didn't know if her cheeks were burning from the sun, the alcohol, or the fact that she felt embarrassed by being so close to him. But she felt light and happy enough not to dwell on it. She wanted this evening to last as long as possible.

However, at some point, Bruno fell asleep on the chair, and Viviane took him in her arms, announcing that she would put him to bed and she will also take a rest, wishing everyone a good night. Ayrton's mother, seeing that his dad had had enough beer, took him by the arm and, amid numerous protests, escorted him inside. The girl helped carry the dishes to the kitchen, and when she brought in the last batch of plates, Ayrton's mother hugged her tightly.

Y/N returned her embrace with a smile, wishing her a good night before returning to the terrace.

Seeing the expression on her face, Ayrton smiled too.

"They liked you, but I'm sure you noticed that yourself."

"They are very kind," the girl replied, closing the terrace doors, "you have a truly wonderful family."

Y/N approached the table and took a chair to sit on it, but Ayrton straightened up and patted his knees, indicating that she should sit on them. The girl accepted the invitation without protest and sat on them sideways, embracing him around the neck.

"I'm glad you agreed to come here with me," he said, looking into her eyes, to which she smiled.

"I'm glad you invited me."

For a moment, they looked at each other in silence, she on his lap, with her hand on his bare shoulders, he with one hand on her waist and the other caressing her exposed thigh. He raised his hand and brushed a lock of her hair behind her ear, touching her flushed cheek. The girl smiled at his gesture and closed her eyes.

"You're important to me, you know?"

"I am?"

She asked, looking at him again.

Ayrton nodded, stroking her cheek with his thumb. Y/N threaded her fingers into the hair resting at the base of his neck, stroking it lightly. At one point, without thinking or saying a word, he leaned towards her and kissed her. She kissed him back, touching his cheek with her other hand. Ayrton didn't break the kiss, he just hugged her tighter, pressing their bodies together. Y/N was returning each of his kisses and after a while their tongues started their love dance, rubbing against each other. Even though they were both a bit drunk, Ayrton wasn't sure how much he could afford. However, when she slightly opened her legs, giving him a silent invitation, he squeezed her thigh to which she sighed. He smiled against her lips, continuing to kiss her. He stroked her leg, moving higher and higher with each movement. When he felt the fabric of her underwear with his fingertips, he pulled away slightly, wanting to look at her face and see her reaction, but she pulled him closer again, connecting their lips in a kiss.

"Do not stop"

Ayrton smiled against her lips and deepened the kiss in response. He ran his fingers over her pussy and she purred softly. He began to slowly massage her through the fabric of her panties, but when they began to get in the way after some time, he pulled them off her with a quick movement.

His lips soon moved to her neck, marking it with kisses. She tilted her head, giving him better access to her. Ayrton accidentally slipped the strap of her dress, but neither of them cared. The girl noticed it only when he sucked on her nipple, which made her moan involuntarily.

"You have to be quiet, can you do that?"

He asked quietly, glancing at her ecstatic face. She just licked her lips and quickly nodded. He ran his tongue over her nipple again, his hand still massaging her pussy. When he felt how wet she was, he slowly inserted his finger into her, but carefully watched her face, continuing to caress her breasts with his mouth. He looked at her, wanting to make sure they were both on the same page. However, his actions were perceived with enthusiasm, as the girl tilted her head back, letting out a muffled moans from her pursed lips. Ayrton smiled to himself, still peppering her breasts with kisses. He inserted his finger all the way and started moving it, expertly nudging her inner, sensitive spot. Y/N had a hard time staying quiet, especially when he added a second finger and his movements inside her started getting more precise and decisive. The girl covered her mouth with one hand and grabbed his wrist with the other and pushed him harder into herself, feeling that she was only seconds away from orgasm.

"Ayrton, I- oh my god…"

Y/N wrapped her arms around his neck again and dug her nails into his bare shoulder.

"Kiss me, quick"

He said quietly, his breathing also quickening. She complied with his command and kissed him, making him muffle her moans with his mouth. Y/N came on his hand soon after, squeezing her eyes shut and tilting her head back. After a few moments, the girl sat up straight again, trying to calm her breathing. As she slowly began to realize what had actually happened, the blush on her cheeks intensified even more. She looked at him uncertainly, he laughed seeing her reaction and kissed her on the cheek.

"Don't look so innocent, you're quite a good one."

The girl felt ashamed and closed her eyes, cuddling into him, and he hugged her tightly.

"Promise me that no one in your family will sit in this chair for breakfast."

Ayrton chuckled and rubbed his hand on her back.

"I promise, don't worry about it," he rested his cheek on her head, "We can go somewhere else if you want."

The girl raised her head and looked at him.

"I won't be able to keep quiet, Ayrton. Your parents-" "Don't worry," he interrupted her, taking her panties thrown on the chair next to them and handing them to her hand, "I'll make sure you keep your mouth busy."

[giddyfatherchris]

Confidence booster

Pairing: changbin x reader, ot8 x reader

Type: Not requested

Genre: a biiiit of angst if you squint and fluuuuufff

Warnings: none

Requests: open for stray kids and bts

A/n: i thought about this random scenario and it made my heart grow a size or two with fluff hehe hope you enjoy xx

gif is not mine!

Summary: After a little incident while you were shopping with Changbin, he takes matter in his own hands to make you feel better and boost your confidence a little

"Why is this so good?" marvels Changbin as you walk down the mall, drinks in both your hands.

You laugh at his comment. Honestly, he's not wrong, but the childlike wonder Changbin often expresses always makes you giggle. He's basically a very buff and muscular child.

"Alright, so where do you need to go first?"

Changbin had invited you for a shopping day. He needed new clothes since he kept getting bigger by the hour. Usually, he would have asked the stylist for some new pieces, but he also liked to walk around the mall. So, with permission and a few security guards, you left together for a shopping spree.

He wanted to stop by a few stores, and you felt more than happy to follow along and enjoy his company. You had wished for the other boys to join you, but the occasion for them to get a free day was so rare. They all jumped at the opportunity to have a very chill and relaxed day.

You entered your third store your hands already full of bags, which all belonged to Changbin. Immediately, he started rummaging through the clothes. Every once in a while, he got out an abomination of a shirt or dress only to make a funny face to make you laugh. You joined in his game and quickly were almost crying because of the new atrocities you pulled out. Even the bodyguards couldn't hold in subtle smiles. 

You were about to show him a very confusing top when your eyes fell on a beautiful dress. You put back the previous piece of clothing without a glance. It was a stunning pastel color and flowed perfectly with its multiple panels. You let your hand stroke the fabric. Your mouth opened with surprise at how soft it was. Completely lost in your world, you didn't notice when Changbin sneaked up on you with a funny hat and pair of glasses. 

"What do you think of these?" he snickered, finding himself incredibly funny. "Y/n?"

"Mh?"

Pulled from your daze, you absentmindedly giggled when you noticed him, your mind not quite moved on from the absolute dream you held in your hands.

"You're not even laughing," he pouted before noticing your gaze of adoration. "That's really pretty. I'm sure it would suit you very well. Try it on!" he enthusiastically pressed.

And just like that, your little dream fell flat. You backed away from the rack as if it was poisonous.

"Oh no, I don't think so. I just thought it was soft," you mumbled before quickly walking away. 

For the following stores, he noticed the drastic change in your attitude. Your enthusiastic mood was long gone, replaced by a distant gaze. Every time he offered a piece of clothing he thought would fit you well, you looked at him with this tense stare, shook your head, and moved on.

When you got home, you immediately headed to your room. You dropped the bags directly in the entryway and said a dismissive 'hello' to Felix who was waiting for the two of you with a smile. The young Australian gave his older brother a confused look, to which Changbin only answered with shrugged shoulders.

You were lying on your bed, a frog plushie held tight to your chest. You stared at the ceiling as memories you hadn't thought about in months flooded your brain. You were so out of it you didn't hear the light knock on your door. Only the apparition of Changbin in your room brought you back to the present.

"Oh, hi binnie."

"Can I come in?"

You nodded as you sat cross-legged in your little bed, giving him some space.

"Did you need anything?" you asked after he stayed silent for a few seconds. He looked shy, almost awkward, which was rare for him.

"I wanted to ask you about something, and before you say I imagined it..."

"Changbin I-" 

He stopped you with a stern look. "Fine, I may have the attention span of a kindergartner, but I'm not that blind. You look seriously disturbed whenever I ask you to try something on." You examined your hands, ashamed to face his eyes. "And you can't tell me it was nothing. You looked panicked." He searched for your gaze, his head leaning on the side. 

You closed your eyes. "It's just because it's embarrassing to explain," you whispered.

He stayed silent with his brows furrowed, a silent invitation for you to continue, you looked up and winced. "I used to date someone, and when we went shopping he showed little interest in the clothes I wanted. Which I guess is fair, but the thing is whenever I did try something in front of him, he always made fun of me. Or would point out the things wrong with it?" You hid your reddening face in your hands. "Since then, I only go shopping alone. I'm never trying anything new in front of someone."

You sighed, feeling so ashamed, even though you knew your friend deserved some proper explanation for your unusual behavior. 

"So, that's why you wouldn't try that dress?" 

You nodded. He stared at you silently, patted your hand, and left the room…?

It wasn't totally out of character for Changbin, he really had a hard time focusing on two things at once, but you thought after telling him such a personal story, he would have shown some compassion or at least would have said something. 

It didn't help that you didn't see him the next day. The only thing resembling some news you got was a text in your group chat making sure everyone was still on for the meal at his dorm that night. 

You showed up at the requested hour to an almost empty house. Seungmin, Felix, and Lee Know were the only ones there, busy preparing the meal. When you asked about the five missing boys, they gave a vague answer about an errand they all had to run before supper. You shrugged off the bizarre coincidence with a suspicious look before you joined the preparations.

Changbin, Bang Chan, Han, Hyunjin, and I.N finally showed up with a plethora of bags about 30 minutes later.

"With everything you bought yesterday, I didn't think you were still missing some stuff Bin." You laughed until you noticed their conniving smiles and unusual silence. "What's going on here?" you asked after looking at Seungmin, Felix, and Lee Know.

The sweet Australian boy walked behind you and grabbed your shoulders.

"Changbin hyung told us about your thing with clothes." 

You whipped your head in the direction of the culprit, anger brewing in your blood. 

"Please don't get mad!" intervened Chan as he stepped up. "We went to the store and picked some stuff for you." He gave you an adorable smirk, and if you weren't so embarrassed, you could have swooned.

Your strong friend walked up to you, bags in hands. "Try these and then show us." 

Your mouth opened comically. "Is this a joke?" You looked at your friends and their hopeful smiles. "I told you I don't do that, and if you told everyone, you all should know too."                    

"Exactly, and that's why we want to do this. Please trust us?" He gave you the most horrid and cute agyeo look in an attempt to convince you. You pondered the situation and looked at them, hoping they would rescind. 

"I will try ONE thing, and then we never talk about it again," you grumbled as Changbin quickly handed you a bag with a gigantic smile.

Of course, it was the dress. It was magnificent, and if you were honest, you thought it suited you, but self-doubt was never far away. You could never trust your opinion. You were probably not seeing some horrible detail, you reasoned.

"You can come out now. We're ready!" screamed Changbin from behind the door.

Turning to face the doorway, you took a deep breath. You questioned even getting out. Why would you willingly put yourself in that situation again? But then, the answer timidly pointed the tip of its nose.

Maybe, just maybe, because you did trust them? And maybe because somewhere inside, you hoped it would turn out different this time. 

You stepped out, left the door flagrantly open for a quick escape, and faced the boys with your eyes closed. "Okay, I'm out. Here it is. Can I go back in now?"

Nothing. Your apparition met with silence, you slowly opened one eye then the other. They were all sat very neatly on the couch with serious expressions. 

"Uh, guys?" 

They stayed silent for a bit more, looking you up and down before they looked at each other and started absolutely screaming.

"WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA SO PRETTY!!"

"OH MY GOD. HAVE WE BEEN GRACED WITH THE PRESENCE OF AN ANGEL?"

"MY EYES! MY EYES! THEY ARE DAZZLED BY ALL THIS BEAUTY!"

"ARE YOU A CELEBRITY?"

Bang Chan was fake sobbing and muttering about how pretty you were while Seungmin had just 'fainted' in I.N and Felix's arms. Hyunjin was fanning himself like a crazy person.

Suddenly turned MC, Changbin grabbed a hairbrush as a mic and presented your outfit. "Everyone! Here is our first outfit of the night! What would we rate this?"

"A 10!"

"12/10"

"ONE MILLION OUT OF TEN."

"It's PERFECT!" screamed Han.

You couldn't help a fit of laughter from escaping your mouth. Your cheeks were red with slight embarrassment and a healthy dose of happiness. The boys continued their crazy antics, asking you to twirl and do a model walk across the living room as they applauded. The show continued for a while as they encouraged you to try every item of clothing they bought you. 

Most of them fit you like a glove, and you praised their incredible sense of fashion. Even with the more ill-fitting ones, their comments focused on comedy. Not a bad thing was said about you or the way your body looked.

You concluded the night with the delicious meal your three cooks had prepared and a movie. You were cuddled up on the couch, somehow all touching despite your different positions. 

In the middle of the movie, you subtly looked at Changbin, sitting next to you. His gaze focused, face bare, and his natural dark curls giving him the fluffiest and most adorable appearance. After a few seconds of your maintained observation, he turned to you, a silent question mark in his dark eyes. 

"When you didn't say anything after I confessed my story I got scared you were judging me," you whispered. "But after what you did tonight, I just wanted to thank you."   

A satisfied smile illuminated his features as he reached for your hand, squeezing it. He didn't say anything for a while, his gaze back on the screen intently watching the movie, until he brought his mouth close to your ear and ushered in a low tone. 

"You deserved to be shown the proper reaction for anything you would ever put on. That guy was an ass if he wasn't able to recognize what was in front of him." Your eyes turned round like saucers at the words you were hearing. You shifted to look at him, but his eyes were still on the screen. "We didn't have to put on a show or anything. We simply had to be honest and say what we’re all silently thinking all the time."

[lunasblunt]

barracuda

𖦹 ׂ 𓈒 ⋆ ۪ 𖦹 ׂ 𓈒 ⋆ ۪ 𖦹 ׂ 𓈒 ⋆ ۪ 𖦹 ׂ 𓈒 ⋆ ۪ 𖦹 ׂ 𓈒 ⋆ ۪ 𖦹 ׂ 𓈒 ⋆ ۪ 𖦹 ׂ 𓈒 ⋆ ۪ 𖦹 ׂ 𓈒 ⋆ ۪ 𖦹 ׂ 𓈒 ⋆ ۪ 𖦹 ׂ 𓈒 ⋆ ۪

SFW!!!!! pt.1

pairing: logan howlett x original female!mutant character

summary: terra, a mutant with the ability to manipulate earthly elements and grow plants/flowers from her palms, finds herself incredibly fed up with logan as they’re forced to to train together.

suggested song: barracuda by heart BASIC IK BUT IT JUST FITS SO WELL

CW: mention of blood, mention of hand to hand combat / fighting using their powers (i’m terrible at writing fight scenes so it won’t be graphic at all), logan is pretty aggressive towards her but dw it’s not gonna be like this for the entire fic it’s just his character arc….

A/N: pretty sure i saw a oneshot w the idea of these powers a while ago so just wanna let u guys know this idea did NOT come from me & i don’t claim to have come up w it :)) also this is part 1 so pls don't hate me for not making them make out straight away...... we need some tension first... HOPE U ENJOY <3

edited a/n: if anyone’s interested in being on a taglist for this fic pls reply/lmk i’d love to figure out how tumblr works and keep u all updated lolllll

𖦹 ׂ 𓈒 ⋆ ۪ 𖦹 ׂ 𓈒 ⋆ ۪ 𖦹 ׂ 𓈒 ⋆ ۪ 𖦹 ׂ 𓈒 ⋆ ۪ 𖦹 ׂ 𓈒 ⋆ ۪ 𖦹 ׂ 𓈒 ⋆ ۪ 𖦹 ׂ 𓈒 ⋆ ۪ 𖦹 ׂ 𓈒 ⋆ ۪ 𖦹 ׂ 𓈒 ⋆ ۪ 𖦹 ׂ 𓈒 ⋆ ۪

terra was never one to fuss over charles’s orders. the girl knew the man was incapable of making bad decisions, especially when it came to the team. but when charles had called both logan and terra into his office, asking the two of them to train as a combat duo, she felt her respect for his wisdom fly out the window.

logan… and her? a combat duo? she found the idea hilarious. her eyes scanned the office, waiting to see if this meeting was some sort of prank. as charles continued on, raving about how if the two could cooperate as a unit it could be greatly beneficial for the team, she had to face the reality of the situation. the professor was serious.

the idea of their gifts working well together caused her a great headache. if anything, their abilities, and personalities, were quite opposite. in what world would logan’s cocky, carefree skillset and her peaceful, nonviolent aura compliment each other?

as much as she wanted to put up a fight with the professor, she’d known there was nothing she could do. when charles had made his mind up, it was an unspoken rule to trust how it played out.

now here she was, a day later, taking a gulp of water unhappily as she waited for logan’s arrival.

the second logan stepped foot into training room, terra could feel the energy shift. his cold, stuck up demeanor practically deteriorated the calm, tranquil atmosphere she’d been building all morning.

"glad you decided to show up!" terra spits, setting the tone for their upcoming weeks of training. it'd been an hour past the time charles had set for them to meet.

this newfound attitude felt out of character to terra. usually, the girl found herself calm and collected, grounded and appreciative of the world around her. it was when she first met logan that she discovered the way it felt to actually hate someone.

terra thinks back to the two's first few encounters. the way he ignored her hand when she politely introduced herself, the way he made passive aggressive comments toward her in group settings, the way he completely ignored her presence in any scenario. a hot, tingly feeling started to fill the pit in her stomach.

logan scoffs to himself, finding her attitude amusing. he pinches the thick cigar resting between his lips, takes one last puff, then puts it out on the wall beside him.

"we'll start with hand to hand combat." is all that logan lets escapes his lips. he wasn't there to chat, he was there for a reason, and he wasn't going to let her waste anymore of his day. “no powers, no tricks, just raw sparring.”

terra shakes her head, returning the same petty scoff he’d given her in response. he was unbelievable.

as the two get into their fighting positions, terra refuses to acknowledge the way logan is quick to peel off his tank top, and she definitely refuses to acknowledge the strange way it left that fiery pit in her stomach lively and bothered.

for a while the two fight, logan’s experience giving him the upper hand. she’d never been the soldier, she was the distraction. making the ground shake or bending the trees around them into different shapes to buy the team some extra time; she was there to confuse the enemy, not hurt them.

eventually, their brawl tends to get more heated and logan can see how it’s affecting her. the girl was tired, her body practically crumbling beneath her, but she refused to give up.

logan sees this as the perfect opportunity to get under her skin.

“come on, that all you got?” he hisses through gritted teeth, poking the bear. terra can’t help but let the vines that had been begging to be freed shoot out of her palms. before he realizes what’s going on, logan can feel the plants slithering up his legs. they make their way to his forearms, then to his neck, curling around him tightly, pushing him away from the girl trapped beneath him.

logan lets out a low chuckle at the girl’s spectacle, the grip of the vines on his neck a feeling he didn't exactly mind. was that really the best she could do?

as terra gives a breathless smirk, thinking she’d done a number on him, logan lets the blades hidden in between his knuckles slide out. without a word, the man is instantly darting toward her... or more specifically the green nuisances growing from her hands.

logan slices the vines straight from where they came from, leaving terra no choice but to fall to the floor in agonizing pain.

he watches as her palms start to gush blood, her eyes widening in shock. bending down on his knee, getting to her level, logan lets his lips slide into a smirk. these next few weeks were going to be fun for him. "you're gonna keep getting yourself into trouble if you don't start paying attention." the man breathes, too careless to yell.

with that, logan turns on his heel, his back facing the injured girl. he thinks about lighting up the rest of his cigar, more hung up on the taste of it lingering in his mouth than the state he's left the oh so peaceful "mother nature" in.

[angelbarelywrites]

♡ slashers scenarios | let’s get kinky (part 2)

♡ fandoms; Friday the 13th, House of Wax, Scream (kinda), Hannibal (TV), Dead by Daylight, slashers (general)

♡ characters; Jason Vorhees, Bo Sinclair, Vincent Sinclair, Danny Johnson, Hannibal Lecter

♡ reader; gender neutral

♡cw; graphic sexual content, kink content, daddy kink (NOT ddlg), blood kink, knife kink

♡notes; i’m alive (ish) !!! i think i forgot how to write but have this

•┈••✦ ❤ ✦••┈•

Jason Vorhees

> he’s a vanilla guy, honestly

> he’s a virgin when you meet and still believes a lot of what his mother taught him

> however, he is eager to please

> so eager to please that with some gentle coaxing, you could get him to try about anything once

> he’s a natural service top- but he’d bottom no questions asked

> in terms of dom and sub dynamics, he fits pretty snugly in the sub category

> but as I said, he’d try anything once, including completely doming you

> and even if he is submissive, the man is tall, wide, and pure muscle

> it’s not hard for him to get rough- sometimes he is without even realizing it

> but the aftercare is always top-notch, he takes care of you the whole rest of the day/night even if it’s not necessary

> funnily enough he thinks oral is pretty scandalous at first, but god he loves when you suck him off, lapping and trying to take all of him even though it’s probably impossible

Bo Sinclair

> maybe listing kinks he doesn’t have would be faster

> in all seriousness, there are quite a few he’d be gunning for when the topic comes up for the first time

> he loves being called daddy or sir, or would accept most other dom titles

> he’s super into roleplay- but he loses the plot pretty fast

> he love love loves tying you up and using you as he pleases

> if you trust him enough he’ll gag you too, and maybe leave you tied up while he goes to take care of business

> he likes spanking and biting and bruising your hips from gripping you too tightly

> and he likes kissing all of the little marks he left for days afterwards

>making sure they heal properly, he always says, though he’s quick to replace them

> if you can manage to get him to sub- big if- he’s an incredibly whiny and desperate brat. but taking him can be fun.

Billy Lenz

> he’s the switch of the century 🔥🔥🔥

> he alternates so frequently between praise and degradation that it’s jarring at times

> “oh just look at my pretty whore- you like billy’s cock? take it like the fucking slut you are—“

> and he loves loves loves being on the receiving end of both as well

> he has an oral fixation, big time. And if your fingers aren’t in his mouth, his fingers are in yours

> and, to no one’s surprise, he loves phone sex

> he’ll call you from the attic as foreplay

> and he loves watching you, peeping through the wall as you put on a show for him

> he loves edging- mostly on the receiving end

> and when he finally cums, he wants it to be all over your face or chest.

Danny Johnson

> borderline exhibitionist. maybe not even borderline.

> y’all are fucking in the car, in alleys, anywhere you can have just enough privacy

> and man oh man, is he going to take so many pictures of you

> posed on the bed or on your knees in front of him or freshly fucked and nearly in tears

> when he has you screaming, he wants to hear his name, not anything else

> he’s a hair puller, and he’s more than happy to choke you

> if you ask nicely, that is. he’ll have you beg for most things

> he calls you his kitty or puppy, or baby doll if you don’t like either of those

> if you stroke his ego and praise him, he’ll do absolutely anything you want

> he’ll even be a good boy and bottom for you if he trusts you enough - though he’s an absolute pillow prince when he does bottom

Hannibal Lecter

> debatably the “worst” of the bunch

> he’s the type to really commit to BDSM dynamics

> you WILL call him master, and he’ll probably call you “my pet”

> he likes choking, spanking, the whole nine yards that a lot of the other

> but he very much has a knife kink, and a blood kink. he likes giving little nicks and lapping the blood up, getting a proper taste of you

> of course he can live without it, but if you let him indulge you’d be greatly rewarded

> and even with his strictly dominant nature, he is a very generous master

> he loves going down on you, and he loves overstimulating you when he does

> he’ll have you whining before he gets past your thighs, seeming to always know just what to do make you squirm

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

So, I been curious and I wonder if you have answers; how strong is Idia? I know physically that a new born kitten could woop him, while technology wise not even the master control could stand against him, but what about magic wise? And where does he stand in comparison to the other dorm heads? I know in ch 6 he was strong as heck but isn't that mainly because he was getting energy from the blots?

(Thank you for your time)

Mmm, well... I don't think "magic strength" alone accounts for how good of a mage someone is. You could have all the power in the world but could be a terrible mage just because of how you use it (like if you lack control), or perhaps because you can only cast a few powerful spells before you blow through your energy reserves. All spells are also not made equal; there are defensive spells, offensive spells, healing spells, and more! Because of all that, it's hard for us to really quantify how "strong" a mage is, because really each mage seems to specialize in their own skillsets. It's not "which class is the strongest?" but rather "which class fits your preferred play style?" For this reason, I'm not going to be formally ranking the dorm leaders but instead will point out their strengths and weaknesses.

As Idia points out in book 6:

Riddle has an artificially large magic pool because he started his magical training from a young age. He is capable of casting strong spells and favors offense, but also has low physical stamina and tires easily (from blot accumulation) because he tries to brute-force. His mental state is also said to be heavily impacted by external factors.

Leona can cast spells quickly and effortlessly; his magic pool is described to be "huge", but we don't know how this really relates to the other problem children in terms of scale. He also seems to boast precision, as he can "tailor" his defensive spells' strength to counter his opponents. Because of how efficient Leona is, he barely accumulates unnecessary blot. Stress does not have much effect on how fast he produces blot, but intense emotions do cause a significant spike in him. Additionally, Leona is skilled in flight due to playing magift/spelldrive.

Azul is a relatively slow spellcaster but makes up for that with precision and access to a variety of spells. He watches the flow of a battle, keeps cool, and then plays support/heals as needed. Idia also notes that while Azul can cast many different spells, Azul also does not have a large enough magic pool to support them and so has to be more careful about what and when he uses his magic.

Vil is very stable across the board and is quite resilient to blot. Stress does not have a huge effect on him, but the blot does seem to stick around for longer because of his larger magic pool. Something else to keep in mind is that Vil excels in making potions, which is another form of magic.

Please keep in mind that these refer to mainly COMBAT scenarios, which are not the only cases in which you would use magic... so this isn't an entirely accurate assessment; it's just the most convenient assessment since the game blatantly lays the comparisons out for us. Let's now piece together what we know of the remaining dorm leaders based on lore we have:

Kalim does not strike me as someone who has a particularly large pool of magic (it's never commented on, nor shown). I'd place him at around normal until otherwise refuted by the canon. We know he's not particularly proficient in his studies, as he just barely scrapes by in classes with intense help from Jamil. This may not always translate to poor performance in practical settings, but we also have no standout moments of Kalim pulling off impressive spells or being a notable mage. He also doesn't seem to be aware of the practical or strategic uses for his own UM unless others in his immediate vicinity are in need of large amounts of water. It's possible that he's incredibly powerful, but lacks awareness of how to best utilize his magic.

Malleus is stated in the lore to be one of the top 5 mages in the WORLD. He uses magic on a daily basis and barely blinks an eye to when he does amazing feats like STOPPING TIME ITSELF. Book 7 also reveals to us a hypothesis that fae might have access to an essentially limitless reserve of magic because they pull that magic from nature itself. I'd say that this definitively places Malleus at the top of the "magical power" hierarchy--there was never any doubt about that, the problem just comes in trying to sort everyone else under him.

And then there's Idia, whom we don't really see performing magic much by himself. No, he prefers to tinker with his computer parts which, technically, can count as magic since technomancy is the combination of technology and magic. (Does Ortho count as something resulting from Idia's "magic power"??) It's hard to say.

If I had to guess, I would think Idia is another stable user like Vil but is also highly volatile like Riddle (due to his guilt and grief being the main source of trauma). Idia HAS to cast spells or input magic into his devices because of his curse; if he does not accumulate blot, there's nothing for his curse to dine on... so it'll dine on his own magic instead, which can be detrimental to his health and wellbeing. (This is why the Shrouds are perfect candidates to work at STYX and research blot. All the blot present in STYX HQ fuels them and feeds their curses.) This implies Idia has to have output, and consistent output at that. More blot present in the immediate area may be able to power him up more and allow him to cast more spells/cast spells more frequently, but that's again highly dependent on his environment. Idia has the "flexibility" that the other dorm leaders lack, which can be a curse or a blessing given the scenario. Make of that what you will!

[freshstitches]

Last month, Sixth & Spring publishing reached out to me to review the new Short-row Colorwork Knitting book by Woolly Wormhead. Woolly  is best known for designing clever hat patterns that employ the use of short-rows to create dynamic shapes in colorwork. I've never made one of her patterns, but have long appreciated them as a sort of brain teaser. Each one seems to fit together like a puzzle of yarn. I've now spent a month with this book, reading through it and using it as a textbook to learn Woolly's signature short row technique.

The cover of the book has a frosted glass feel, which I think is nicer than a glossy cover. Three of the brightly colored stitch patterns are displayed along with the title. The book contains 50 stitch patterns and 10 projects. The yarn for the publication was provided by malabrigo so every stitch pattern is shown in beautiful tonal yarn. I also noticed a stitch key on the inside of the flap of the cover that folds out so you can look at it when you're working on a pattern. I love the consideration for the reader and the functionality.

This book is written like a workbook, it starts by giving you all the tools that you need to use to knit the stitch patterns then use them in your own projects. The first few chapters explain the short-row colorwork fabric, the chart system, ways of altering the motifs in the book and color theory. I was not left with any questions about the instructions. The next section of the book contains tutorials teaching the basics of short row knitting, the skills that are needed to complete the patterns are shown with photos. There's even a photo tutorial on knitting backwards - a huge time saver. It seems like Woolly and I have the same party trick. 

Next, I tried making a few of the stitch patterns with my new skills. The chart system was intuitive. The first swatch is the Sine Stripes pattern. The swatch in the book showed a selvedge, which I added on my swatch as well. Next, I tried making the Anemones motif. I did not add a selvedge this time, but felt confident using the lessons to shift the placement of the short rows. None of the short rows were changed,I just cast on extra stitches and practiced moving the motifs. I did not have a chance to try any of the "repeatable" stitch patterns yet which can be used in the round as well as flat. The majority of the book is spent on these adaptable stitches.

I didn't have time to try any of the projects, but noticed a good mix of different accessories. I appreciate the inclusion of multiple designers showing different perspectives and approaches to the Short-row Colorwork technique. The final chapter of the book explains different design considerations, inviting the reader to actually use the stitch dictionary portion of the text for their own applications. The properties of some of these stitches are unique and the lessons are helpful and explaining all different scenarios that may come up.

I always intended to get this book, and it definitely lived up to my expectations. It's incredibly thorough without becoming overwhelming. If you enjoy learning new things, this is a great purchase. It's currently available for  pre-order and will be available in the US on April 16th and in the UK on May 14th. More info is available on Woolly's website. And you can preorder a copy of the book on Amazon.

[witlesswitnesstm]

Ok so I haven’t posted anything about this before, but I feel as though I have to now because this obsession is taking over my life.

The Marvin Trilogy: My Speculations about Marvin’s sexual trauma

(Surprisingly, I’ve seen almost no one talk about this)

Cw: Pedophila, SA, mention of suicidality

For this, I am taking from both the 1979 album and the 1985 rewrite of In Trousers.

So, the elephant in the room: Set those sails. When I first watched the Trinity College production, the entire song gave me a sense of unease unlike anything else. There’s this whole depiction of Mrs. Goldberg stripping in front of Marvin, a 14 year old, and then Marvin backing away and watching all of the ladies sing. I want to note here how Marvin doesn’t sing in this at all. Then the song ends, and Mrs. Goldberg claims the entire song was a highschool fantasy by Marvin. See, I don’t doubt that parts of it were definitely made up, but I think Mrs. Goldberg coming onto Marvin was not. To me, Set those sails is Marvin’s interpretation of his teacher’s assault. He’s trying to justify his uncomfortableness by imagining this scenario is a sort of “wake up call” to manhood. One of the lines is “You might tell me you’re a victim, you might get what you deserve.” Which, in my opinion, is near damning evidence to suggest that Mrs. Goldberg groomed/abused Marvin in some way. She says that she can’t excuse a boy who’s lost his nerve, which seems to me like her encouraging Marvin’s perception of masculinity, and saying that he needs to reciprocate her affection to be a man. There are further references to how a good man never fails or how men account for the appetite of all, that could be him trying to tell himself he should’ve enjoyed it. A “good man” in Marvin eyes, is someone who has incredible resolve to his heterosexuality, and always lusts for women. What better a way to prove that than to pretend he enjoyed being assaulted?

Next, I want to note the differences between Set those sails and the R—- of Mrs. Goldberg. The r of Mrs. Goldberg is incredibly childish, and it’s clearly stated at the beginning that it’s a fantasy by Marvin. In this song, Marvin has the control. He’s the hero who takes Mrs. Goldberg instead of the other way around. He has no clear understanding of what sex actually is, and just wants the absolute power that is implied with it. I personally like the interpretation that Marvin made fantasies of having control to cope with being assaulted. I also like the interpretation that this song is a story he made up to tell others in order to “prove” his heterosexuality. As I briefly mentioned earlier, the behavior of Marvin between the 2 songs is also very stark. In set those sails, Marvin actively tries to get away from Mrs. Goldberg and stays absolutely silent. This is extremely uncharacteristic of Marvin, especially at this age. He always acts out, he always yells, except for this song. This deeply contrasts the R of Mrs. Goldberg, where Marvin is loud and happy, as usual. I take this to mean that Set those sails is one of the few moments where he is truly paralyzed.

There are a few references to Mrs. Goldberg’s misconduct in Highschool sweetheart as well, even if they are a stretch. Marvin says “She gives me words to say” and while this is obviously a reference to the script, it might also be her telling Marvin to lie about what happened. There’s also Mrs. Goldberg saying “Stop making me crazy, Marvin. I love the way Marvin acts, I do.” which is obviously about his unruly behavior, but might also be about her sexual feelings towards him.

As for how this ties into the main theme of misogyny, misogyny affects all. The idea that women are docile and innocent, and men are sex crazed is a product of misogyny. Marvin holding this belief actively hurts him over and over again, blaming himself for not living up to this standard. I truly have no idea if this is what William Finn intended, but I find it interesting how it all fits.

Moving on from childhood, let’s talk about Nausea before the game. Besides probably being my favorite song in the whole show, it gives a whole lot of insight as to how Marvin feels about sex now that he’s presumably experienced it. The constant references to games are important here, I feel like. Marvin absolutely loves winning. He even says that winning is everything to him in The Chess Game. Marvin would do anything to win, including forcing himself through intercourse he desperately does not want to have. It’s implied that he literally throws up afterwards, trying to purge himself of his shame. He even prays for it to stop, but inevitably, it never does. And of course this all stems from his internalized homophobia, and the added layer of possibly being assaulted as a child just makes the entire situation even more tragic. Having sex with Trina could *literally* be bringing back traumatic experiences. This also makes me feel for Trina, because she did nothing wrong. She just wants love, but Marvin is so fucked up. There’s also even more references to being inappropriately touched in highschool with the line “It's anxiety when you recall girls who touch you when you're walking down the hall.”

My chance to survive the night just further elaborates how much Marvin hates being heterosexual. I find the word “survive” to be very peculiar in this case. It went from “winning” sex to “surviving” it. This might imply how worn out he is because of all of this, focusing his attention to his literal survival than his pride. It might also imply suicidal thoughts during sex, leading to him just wanting to live through it, although that might be a stretch. (Marvin’s suicidality is a whole other can of worms that I’d love to get into in another post). One thing though, I don’t actually know if My chance to survive the night is before or after Nausea before the game, but it has a similar implication either way. Anyway, there’s one verse in the song I want to note. Marvin says sex as a dance, but he describes all the movements very objectively, and notes how he isn’t very lucid about it. This might be a sign of disassociation, which is a common trauma response. Another thing from this song is that he says he wants to sleep, but the phone will ring (Presumably a call to intimacy). And this theme of wanting to sleep but not being able to is a theme throughout the whole musical. There’s a reference to it in Nausea before the game with “If I touch her would she let me fall asleep?”, and many references in “I can’t sleep”, but I think that song is more about how Marvin’s ex lovers haunt him in general.

Next up, I want to talk about Your lips and me reprise. This really digs into the whole “Marvin’s ex lovers are haunting him” deal. This is the first time we really see Marvin actually acknowledge the ladies’ accompaniment for his songs, and it’s because of his guilt for making up a story about Mrs. Goldberg. I think Marvin thinking about this in one of his most private places, his shower, just shows how much this affected him, even in adulthood. The line “My body is not yours to hold” by Mrs. Goldberg is extremely powerful, and I think it could have multiple meanings. It’s Marvin’s guilt about fantasizing about her, yes, but it could also be him finally accepting that what he and Mrs. Goldberg did wasn’t supposed to happen. The ensuing panic attack is caused by Marvin’s perception of his childhood crashing around him. If anyone has seen lars_orange’s animatic of this song on YouTube, I really love their depiction of Marvin recovering from his panic attack. He thinks about Whizzer, and he breathes. This is where Marvin takes a victory shower starts. He’s not ashamed anymore. (Unrelated, but is it just me or is this song seem like Marvin taking a shower after having sex with Whizzer? It’s referenced in How America got its name that Columbus planned to take a shower after he and Amerigo spent so much time together.)

Finally, I want to talk about Another sleepless night. Specifically the 1985 version. This gives a clue into how passionate Whizzer and Marvin are, even before The thrill of first love. There is one key difference in the lyrics from the college production to the actual lyrics. In the actual lyrics, there’s a line, “I’m feeling hot. He'll close his eyes, and then surprise: I'll be awake and performing” but the college production changes it to “He’s feeling hot. I’ll close my eyes, and then surprise: I'll be awake and performing”. The actual lyrics enforce Marvin’s need for homosexual intimacy, which feels very in character for him at this point. He’s craving anything other than heterosexual sex and he finally has that in Whizzer. The college lyrics paint a completely different picture, implying that Whizzer is the one who wants passion. Then Marvin says “He'll wanna sleep, but asks for more. To put up with a guy like myself must be a bore.” This suggests Marvin still feels a sense of guilt for not being able to give what others want from him. These different interpretations bring completely different meanings to the line “But he sleeps in this bed, with me, a survivor.” For the original lyrics, the connotation of “survivor” is positive; he’s survived his trauma and able to move on. For the college production, it’s negative; he still feels fragile or insecure because of what he’s been through. Ultimately it ends semi positively with both versions saying that Marvin’s never felt more alive.

Ok, god damn that was a lot of words. Short story, Marvin is hells of fucked up, and I really really really love the Marvin trilogy

[awkward-walking-potato]

Could I get Storm, Magneto, and Nightcrawler with a reader who’s mutation isn’t for combat? It makes them feel weak compared to the others

Here are some headcanons for how Storm, Magneto, and Nightcrawler would react to an S/O whose mutation isn’t combat-oriented and who feels insecure or weak compared to the others:

Storm (Ororo Munroe)

1. Ororo would immediately recognize the importance of your mutation, regardless of its combat capabilities. She’s wise and empathetic, and she’d reassure you that every mutation has its place and purpose. She would remind you that her own powers, though formidable, have many uses beyond combat—like nurturing the earth or bringing rain to parched lands.

2.Storm would encourage you to explore the full potential of your abilities. She’d work with you to find ways your mutation could be used to benefit the team in non-combat scenarios, whether it’s healing, providing support, or something entirely unique. She’d help you see that strength isn’t just about fighting; it’s about contributing in meaningful ways.

3.Ororo is incredibly compassionate and would take time to listen to your feelings of inadequacy. She would share stories of times she felt out of place or unsure of her own powers, helping you understand that everyone, even the most powerful mutants, has moments of doubt.

4. Storm would ensure that the team recognizes and values your contributions. She might organize team exercises or missions where your specific skills are crucial, showing everyone—including yourself—how essential you are to their success.

5. Ororo has a deep appreciation for individuality. She would often compliment you on your unique abilities and encourage you to embrace what makes you different. She’d remind you that being unique is a strength in itself, not a weakness.

Magneto (Erik Lehnsherr)

1.Magneto has seen the wide range of mutant abilities and knows that not all of them are combat-oriented. He’d likely take a pragmatic approach, reminding you that every power has its utility and value. He’d encourage you to think strategically about how your mutation can be leveraged in different situations.

2. Erik would challenge you to rethink what it means to be “strong.” He’d point out that many of the most important and influential individuals in history didn’t rely on physical strength or combat prowess but on intellect, influence, or unique talents. He’d push you to see that your mutation might offer strengths others lack.

3.Magneto might take a personal interest in helping you develop your abilities. He’d offer guidance on how to maximize your potential, perhaps even suggesting ways to combine your mutation with other skills or technologies to increase its effectiveness in different contexts.

4. Erik is a big-picture thinker, and he’d help you see how your mutation fits into a larger context. Whether it’s through aiding in strategic planning, gathering intelligence, or supporting the team in ways that go beyond combat, he’d make it clear that every role is vital to the cause.

5. Magneto wouldn’t sugarcoat things; he’d be honest about the challenges you face. But his honesty would come with a strong message: you are part of something greater, and your value isn’t diminished because your abilities aren’t combat-related. He’d emphasize that everyone has a part to play and that your role is just as crucial as anyone else’s.

Nightcrawler (Kurt Wagner)

1. Kurt would be incredibly empathetic towards your feelings of insecurity. He understands what it’s like to feel different or less capable, and he’d be the first to reassure you that your worth isn’t determined by how well you can fight. He’d remind you that the X-Men are a team, and every team member’s contribution is important, no matter what form it takes.

2. Kurt would make a point to highlight the ways your mutation has helped the team, no matter how small or behind-the-scenes those contributions might seem. He’d constantly remind you that your abilities bring something special to the group, whether it’s in the form of support, creativity, or another non-combat strength.

3. Nightcrawler would gently encourage you to explore your powers further, finding new ways to use them that you might not have considered. He’d offer to help you experiment in a safe, supportive environment, emphasizing that your powers are valuable and that there’s no need to compare yourself to others.

4.Kurt is deeply compassionate, and he’d be your biggest cheerleader when you’re feeling down. He’d remind you that being kind, empathetic, and supportive are strengths in themselves, and that those qualities are just as important to the team as any combat ability.

5. Kurt might share his own experiences of feeling out of place or inadequate, using his faith and personal philosophy to help you see that everyone has a purpose. He’d remind you that your worth isn’t defined by others’ expectations but by your own unique gifts and how you choose to use them.

[a-b-riddle]

I've been thinking about your series cause I've wanted to read it but I've been traveling so I've been thinking instead about scenarios..

First of all on my own from les miserables somehow fits incredibly well BUT I HAVE ANGST THOUGHTS

Imagine our lovely reader going on a vacation because she really deserves it. Now also imagine that the emergency contact number for hospitals are the boys' numbers.

....you see where I'm headed?

There's an accident, she gets sick, major or minor but whatever it is, the hospital contacts them before reader is able to go "hey Wait no"

Cherry on top is that she's halfway around the world traveling or doing something far, far away from anything that reminded her of the boys.

The panic? The guilt? The slap in the face?

I live for writing angst, personal favorite is memory loss... But the unexpected call that the person you love-loved-love is injured and in a different country?

It's doing something for my brain. So uh I just had to get it out to you.

….

You know what-

[saltymongoose]

ohh my goodness. i've been waiting to send these until requests were open bc i wanted to hear ur thoughts.

might be a little silly, but consider: matching outfits. player gathers clothing materials!! and coordinates outfits one day on missions!!!! even makes props!!! hijinks ensue. idk if this had already been disscussed before, but thank you for your time and consideration, ily. you are so cool <<3333!!!!!!! everything you make is so scrumptious!!!!! <33

Omg, thank you, this is so nice of you!!! :D ❤❤❤❤ I love this art so much, you have no idea - the way you portray the boys here fits so well (as always lol). And the memes too omg!! I can't even put it into words to be honest with you, these are just excellent. I do feel slightly bad for that random grunt though, something tells me they'll be sleeping with one eye open after seeing that lmao.

(Also, thank you so much for the compliments too of course, you're far too kind. (˶⸃ ⴰ⸃˶)♡ I could say the same to you btw; your art is always just *chef's kiss* perfection.)

Anyhow, I've actually thought a bit about this scenario before, but this just inspired me, so I wrote some short hcs for you. Hope you like them! <3:

The Player Matches Outfits with Them ft. The Main 3 + 2BDamned

(TW: Yandere, Obsessive Behavior)

- [2BDAMNED] -

2BDamned knew that you had been working on a little project - one that you tried to keep as secret as possible. He was curious, but not enough to encroach on whatever boundary you set regarding it. All he knew from your rather lackadaisical explanation was that he'd be very surprised when he saw. And, well, he was.

The first conscious thought in 2BDamned's head is the question of how you've managed to make a mask that looks so similar to his without borrowing the original. It's really spot on; the seams are in the exact same place, and even if yours has to have been configured differently to fit your more human facial features, the silhouette is exactly the same.

(In the end, he concludes that you simply must've studied his appearance for a while to truly replicate his mask, which makes him feel almost giddy in a way he might've deemed embarrassing before meeting you. But now he's just overcome with happiness that you were obviously interested enough in him to do this.)

He openly praises your skill in sewing, knowing that grunt clothing is ordinarily much too large for you. And you'd notice how the fondness he holds for you seeps into the words, his gaze lingering on you in a way that left you feeling warm.

If you could see underneath his own mask, you'd be able to see the smile he was unable to bite back as well, and the flush that he'd try to will away otherwise. And while he is incredibly impressed (and happy) at what you've managed to put together, he will mention that you could also borrow his actual things once in a while, if you feel so inclined. He just happens to think one of his own jackets might suit you too.

(Of course, he doesn't miss the chance to lean real close to adjust your mask as he says this either, just to fluster you even more. You really have no idea how cute you are, especially looking like this.)

- [DEIMOS] -

A full minute of unintelligible sputtering leaves Deimos' lips the moment he sees your new outfit, and you laugh at the way his face goes bright red. When you said you had a surprise, this was one of the last things he expected.

Luckily for him, he's able to quickly gather his composure, and his excited ramblings turn into smooth flirts that'll leave you blushing instead of him. Expect all sorts of comments about how cute you looked dressed up like him, and praises about how you look even better in his fit than he does.

He insists on taking a ton of pictures together, and you can bet he keeps his favorite in his wallet. (It's one of your faces smushed together as you both grin at the camera, making a heart with your hands.)

He considers this a total power-couple thing; matching shirts are so low-effort compared to this, if anything it shows you perfect you are together. Although there is one thing he'd help you change from your original DIY version of his outfit - those sheet-metal dog tags you made can't compare to the real thing in his opinion, so why don't you just use one of his instead?

Also, don't think he won't take advantage of the fact that you both are the only ones with headsets. Even if yours isn't functioning (because let's be honest, finding one in working condition would be difficult), he'll fix it up quickly just so he can talk more directly to you during missions. And whenever else he wants to, to the irritation of the other three.

- [SANFORD] -

Sanford would consider his outfit to be fairly standard, but he recognized that you were emulating him the moment you slid the sunglasses on. And he couldn't stop the goofy smile from splitting his face when he realized it either, not even attempting to hide his amusement at what you've done.

(He only gets visibly happier when you 'threateningly' brandish your wire hook in his direction. You really put a lot of thought into this, didn't you?)

While Sanford has the amount of restraint in him to not openly brag about you doing this, he can't deny the rush of satisfaction he gets from seeing you in what is an unmistakable homage to him. If you look closely, you'll see him straighten up in pride whenever you come into view. (It's almost like preening, really. If he weren't so flushed, perhaps you'd think it to be more of an ego thing, but no.)

Although, he does show a little bit more concern about some aspects of your outfit. Like your boots, for example; he can't count the number of times he's gotten blisters while breaking in his own, so you should expect him to ask you if you need any plasters (or help bandaging yourself as well).

(If you decide to accept his offer, you'll find yourself questioning whether he ever officially trained as a medic before. He surely has the gentleness befitting of one, shown in how he carefully cleans your wounds and softly applies the ointment, his calloused fingers gently smoothing over the plasters on your Achilles heels afterward. Although you have the slightest suspicion that this tenderness from him is known only to you.)

Sanford will also make it part of his routine to pluck your glasses from your nose and clean them after he does his own. Afterward, he'll slowly lean in when he places them back on you to make sure he doesn't poke you in the eye. Neither of you mention that you could do it yourself, or that his decision to slide them back onto the bridge of your nose himself was highly unnecessary. Maybe he just does it to get a better look at the way you blink up at him and blush, or perhaps it's for some other reason, who's to say? Either way, you have no complaints.

- [HANK J. WIMBLETON] -

Your laughs are muffled under Hank's hands as he cups your face, tilting it up to look closely at you. His excitement at your new look is almost palpable; you can easily tell from how he's shaking and hurriedly looking over, his gaze never stopping on one spot for longer than a second. He just wants to take in everything about your new look, is all.

He'll almost insist on doing a mission with you wearing it, not only because the idea sounds fun to him (with his love of carnage and all), but also because it provides an excellent opportunity to rub in everyone else's faces that you chose to copy his outfit. Not theirs.

In a way, he also becomes just a tad more doting than usual. He busies himself with dusting you off, and adjusting your goggles and the lapels of your coat whenever another skirmish is finished. It's his way of checking you over and making sure your hard work wasn't damaged either.

(Plus, he'd hate it if this instance of you copying him was cut short because of some worthless grunts' attempts at harming you.)

You'll catch him sticking closer to you than usual too, and he does so for multiple reasons. First is that he just prefers to be near you whenever he can anyway (the warmth of your presence is one of his favorite things, and it gives ample opportunity to show off around you), but now there's also the fact that your outfit will freak out your enemies. As you can imagine, he enjoys that immensely, and what better way to improve this experience than to have his Player join him?

In a way, Hank also sees this as a sort of 'claim' you've put on yourself too. Wearing your significant other's clothing is kind of a thing with some grunts, and while he knows they aren't really his clothes, there's still some of that same sentiment there that makes him purr just a bit louder whenever he sees you in that new outfit of yours. It tells the world you're his in some way, even if not officially. So why wouldn't he be happy about that?

[waters-and-the-wilde]

okay i was thinking about. the way Juno and Nureyev think. like the way their minds complement each other is just so goddamn neat to me.

(I've touched on something like this before in my 'Nureyev's coping mechanisms backfiring when misapplied' post, the bit about 'Juno’s intelligence is geared toward gathering clues and then assembling narratives, getting good insight checks and putting together a bigger picture that Nureyev has trained himself out of being able to see. they’re both very good at reading people but Nureyev’s strength is being quick on his feet and handling people and situations in the moment while Juno is good at mapping people’s inner landscapes and motivations')

and now another thing that strikes me about Juno's whole detective brain thing is the way his knowledge and memory is incredibly interconnected and associative, the way little pieces crop up in his mind and he knows they're important but not necessarily why, and has to hang onto them until he can see how they fit. The way he basically lives for his 'I connected the dots!!!' moments. he doesn't seem to have the same command over recall the way Nureyev does -- Nureyev's being extremely deliberate and structured, whereas Juno's pattern recognition and responses to prompts and triggers look a lot more instinctive, even if it's just that the way he works has allowed that talent to flourish

And from there you have an equally fascinating contrast in how heavily Nureyev also relies on his knowledge and memory, and yet his method hinges on that ability to compartmentalize, and how the the pieces stay extremely discrete. it's like. Nureyev's constantly putting shit away in filing cabinets, and Juno's constantly leaving stuff around all the time because How Else Would He Know Where It Is, it'll be there when he needs it

and then that leads to fascinating stuff like Nureyev's knowledge being incredibly precise yet fragmented, very purposefully weighed and deployed in the scenario he knows how to apply it to. and how that catches him off the back foot so spectacularly in Man In Glass by relegating useful context as extraneous so thoroughly he literally dissociates it. In Juno's case, the way he can see how things relate to each other backfires on him when he gets carried away, jumps to conclusions without necessarily having the groundwork/evidence/ability to show his work and back it up

ALSO. jury's out on how much Nureyev has actually considered whether his 'focus on the guard not the queen' mentality was shooting himself in the foot before Man In Glass but. something something Train From Nowhere 'i trust your eyes, for a start. and I trust your mind! a master detective's' etc. I get the sense that he recognizes what Juno does as a strength and a complementary skill (at least initially/on an instinctive level/when he's at his best. obv there's still him getting stuck on his Rules of Thieving/forgetting to listen/getting condescending and dismissive under stress but i think that sorta highlights the whole point that they're at their best when they're confident in that trust in each other.)

(also given the CMP heist it's not exactly just Nureyev and I kinda have to wonder if maybe the Aurinkos have Juno's jumping to conclusions tendency work great sometimes and then backfire a bunch of others so they can't always let him have a full head of steam at a precarious moment. i know i've seen ppl get frustrated about that bit and like yes it is a frustrating device but it still strikes me as different from the way that sort of thing is usually deployed, in that it has plenty of plausible grounding in the characterization and communication styles)

like yes i'm a simple man i go bonkers for them being competent at their chosen skills but 'we work well together' is such a cornerstone of their relationship and the way their minds are so different and dovetail so effectively is just. the drift compatibility is built into their psyches and it's absolutely *chef's kiss*

[intimidating-fettuccine]

Can we please get a scenario to how the main three proxies (Masky/Tim, Hoodie/Brian, and Toby) act if they have an anxiety or panic attack? I just want to see your thought on them, because I’ve noticed many people act entirely different, and I find it interesting.

I didn't include Masky/Hoodie specifically because I really don't think either of them have panic attacks, but the other three are here. Sometimes I include the two of them in these sorts of things but they don't fit here for me.

Also, I included if they do or don't have a s/o in this as well. One of the boys ended up being a lot like me in terms of symptoms and only I know which one.

Tim:

Tim doesn't often get panic attacks, I think honestly in the mansion he gets them the least amount of anyone. I think Tim can mostly fly under the radar with his panic attacks unless it's a really bad one. He'll get sweaty, shaky hands, tremble a bit, but he can usually get control over himself and he'll just excuse himself to the bathroom for a moment so he can catch his breath and shake off whatever's got him so panicked. However, if it's a much larger panic attack, things are different for Tim. Usually, these panic attacks occur because of stress from their job, or because of Tim having to deal with Masky being inside of him. Tim gets hit pretty hard; sense of doom, chest pain, dizziness, nausea, detachment, shortness of breath, and shaking. 

Tim gets incredibly scared during these times, as though he's fully shutting down, and he tends to try to run away and hide from people, sometimes collapsing where he is on the way to do so. If he has you, you're the person he immediately tries to find in times like this, all but crumbling into your arms, into his safety net. He calms down much easier in your presence, clinging onto you in ways only you've seen, apologizing and crying, weeping because he feels so guilty in his anxiety for letting his fears get to him, and only your calming words and gentle touch are able to relax him. If he doesn't have you, he tries with all his might to get to his bedroom, to be alone. He'll stay in there, isolated from everyone else as he spends what could be minutes or hours trying to calm himself down, as not even Brian is allowed to see him like this. 

Brian:

Brian I think is second after Tim in terms of least likely to have a panic attack, as I think Brian tends to be good at managing his stress and anxiety, but I think his anxiety actually gets to him more often than it does Tim. I think Brian's panic attacks tend to escalate to the same level each time because when he realizes he's going to have one it causes his fear and anxiety to greatly spiral. It starts with hot flashes for Brian, sweatiness, and headaches. After that, he starts to realize what's happening, and he starts to get shaky and his voice starts to tremble, and he'll try and excuse himself from whatever he's doing. If he has you, he'll have you try and help him upstairs so he doesn't have to be alone because he hates being alone during a panic attack. 

He'll curl into you, hugging you and trying to do breathing exercises with you to calm down before the brunt of it hits him. He'll start to get nauseous, choking on his breath and swaying back and forth in dizziness, so he often likes to lay down beside you. He often breaks down in tears, clinging to you because he feels terrified that something is really wrong with him, and he gets an impending feeling that he's going to die, that he's going to disappear. His panic attacks are very scary for him. If he doesn't have you, he'll go through a similar process with Tim or Slender, one of them being the one to keep him company, although Brian will instead be laying down under a blanket, curled up and hugging a pillow as he tries to calm himself while they comforting rub his back and assure him he'll be okay, that he can get through this, but it usually takes him about an hour to get through one.

Toby:

Toby, on the other hand, has panic attacks on a very regular basis because of his trauma and the very high level of stress and anxiety that I think he feels on a very regular basis. I'd say Toby has a panic attack at least once or twice a week, but some weeks he could be having them every other day when he's going through a very rough patch, although Toby's panic attacks can tend to vary on how they show up for him. Sometimes he feels physically sick, he'll have nausea, and dizziness, and have an extremely rapidly pounding heart rate, with sweat coating his body, breaking down in tears, and unable to stop crying. Sometimes he has an extreme sense of fear, with the impending doom that he's going to lose control of his life, that his dad will come back and take him away, that he's going to die, that he's going to lose control of his life, and he'll start shaking incredibly bad, almost unable to walk, unable to breathe properly and dizziness overtaking him as he finds himself nearly paralyzed and unable to move. 

Sometimes he finds himself growing silent, unable to communicate, his vision blurry, his mind in a sense of detachment so strong he can't even tell he's conscious anymore, his body swaying back and forth, his breathing slowed and shallow, a numb sense of fear humming inside of him. If he has you by his side during any of these, he tends to cling to you, silently asking you not to leave him alone. He won't be talkative at all, in fact, other than his iron grip on you he might seem as though he's avoidant and doesn't want you there, but he's just lost in the confusion of it and unable to communicate what he wants. He just knows that he trusts you, and he wants you to remain by his side so he can have a glimpse of feeling safe. If he doesn't have you, he tends to isolate himself and go through them alone, although sometimes he might prefer to have Slender by his side, comforting him and just being around him so he can know he's not alone or in danger anymore.

[pizzagame4000]

NOISETTE THEMED DOODLE DUMP ft. cheesecake and the spouses

copious hazel headcanons under the cut because i can’t help myself

first off: her name is Hazel 👍🏻 ik that’s a common one but it’s literally perfect… canon info to me

her favorite thing to do, besides making experimental food, is actually exercising! she’s an incredibly skilled acrobat and stunt artist, so she needs to be fit for that, but she also just enjoys letting the excess energy out bc she gets really cranky otherwise. she’s toned af and could wipe the floor with you - she doesn’t go around picking fights for no good reason, but if she did… heehee

she has such an unending well of passion for all of her interests that some find her to be too much but she dgaf… she’s unabashedly autistic and does NOT care if you don’t want to hear her infodump about obscure cheeseslime genetics, she will do it anyways

i like to think that, although she is very bubbly, she has an insane morbid streak that catches people off guard. she loves talking about anatomy and gross-out subjects to anyone who can stomach it, and cracks the most fucked up jokes - it’s one of the reasons her and noise get along so well. she is thinking about blood and guts because she thinks it’s interesting!!!! she will give you hyperspecific graphic threats of violence if you make her mad!!! teehee!!

i would put her at like… chaotic neutral but leaning towards good. she has an almost scientific fascination with violence and seeing what kinds of stress a body can take, and doesn’t mind watching shit unfold instead of helping… unless something actually super fucked up is going on (like way past canon typical pizza tower violence), she’s not going to bat for you lol she’s gonna grab a camera and clipboard

her interest in anatomy branches out into a love for biology, medicine and health in general - as much as she loves watching her boyfriend beat the shit out of some chump on live tv, she also loves studying how different creatures work and how to treat injuries. she almost became a doctor! but she didn’t like the rigid schedule and pressure, so she fostered her interest in dance and gymnastics, and went into television as a stunt double instead. that’s actually how she met noise! that’s why they look so much alike - she was told to inquire NTV for a job because of the resemblance. noise thought she was so cool she was asked to be his co-star instead, and they’ve been inseparable ever since.

sometimes she gets tired of the noisette persona, but she does genuinely like theo, so it’s hard. she’s been more busy with this NTV gig (that’s looking more like a full blown career) than she would like, so that’s why she opened her cafe - to do something else for once dammit!! she likes weird shit, food included!!!

i have two shipping scenarios i like, so consider these parallel universes - hazel x vigi, and hazel x vigi x noise

if you don’t like negative takes on the noise relationship i’d recommend skipping to 2 ^_^

1. her relationship with noise deteriorates bc noise can’t accept the fact that hazel doesn’t wanna be noisette all the time! they’re so busy, he barely even makes time for her anymore - he barely even tolerates her! it’s not until vigi comes into the picture that she realizes she doesn’t have to deal w that mess. but it sucks cuz noise isn’t just her bf, but also like!!! a big part of her career!!! and she does genuinely love him but he’s just!!! an uncommunicative ass!!! it culminates in hazel leaving him and crashing at vigi’s farm because fuck it, it’s her life she does what she wants. she will kiss the cheese AND rebuild her tv career, on her own terms this time baybee

2. noise and hazel still have that issue but they actually communicate like adults and fix their relationship problems, so none of that shit happens! happy ending! hazel has her own life and theo actually lets his gf know he loves her! woah! enter vigi, in: “we saw you across the bar and we really dig your vibe…” imagining vigi as a third to hazel and theo, completely out of his depth but too bisexual to care, is SO funny to me lol… like hazel and him are probably the only two together at first but over time he and theo warm up to each other more (gay intent) and it’s perfect