#Big Bash Betting Tips

[arsgrouponline]

Big Bash 2023 Squad Revealed

Get ready for cricket excitement as the Big Bash 2023 squad is officially revealed! Discover the powerhouse players set to light up the field in this highly anticipated tournament. For an in-depth analysis and exclusive insights into the team compositions, turn to Arsgrouponline.com as your trusted guide. Navigate through the comprehensive details provided by Arsgrouponline.com to stay updated on the latest additions, strategic picks, and potential game-changers within each squad. With Arsgrouponline.com as your go-to resource, you won't miss a beat as the Big Bash 2023 unfolds, offering you a front-row seat to all the action-packed moments of this thrilling cricket extravaganza.

[der-schweizer]

There's my portal

As i said on @bet-on-me-13 'Where is my portal' post, here is my short about their idea. please enjoy.

Danny sipped his coffee, slowly shuffling towards his lab. It had been a long time since he had a ‘run on two coffees and some ecto’ weekend but here he was, Monday morning, on his way to work.

He really wanted to be in bed but he had bills to pay.

Quietly he shuffled into his lab, which he found oddly drafty and oddly bright, considering he hadn’t turned on the lights yet. After flicking them on he moved on towards his desk, passing a big gaping hole in the wall and—

Danny paused, shuffled backwards a bit and then looked at the place where his portal used to be. For a long moment he just looked, then did a slow blink and took another sip of coffee.

After making sure that his portal, including parts of the wall, were really gone, he let out a sigh and held his face. “Who the fuck stole my door?”

With a sigh he pushed his bangs out of his face and walked to his PC, to check the security footage of his Cameras. For once it wasn’t Vlad who stole his shit, Vlad at least had the courtesy to leave a note that he ‘borrowed’ something. It was safe to say that he was surprised to find the footage gone. There weren't many people that could hack through Tucker's programing.

Danny sat there, looking at the black screen of his PC for a long moment before thinking aloud. “Okay, we have one or more people who can; One, break through Tuckers firewalls. Two, physically move a portal weighing around ten tons and, Three, knows their way around Arcane Runes so as to not cause a mass ghost invasion.”

He thought about it for a minute before throwing his hands up. “Fuck this, I’m just going to use the other side to find it.” He got out of his chair before transforming. 

Danny focused his power into one of his fingers before poking the air in front of him, the tip of it pierced the fabric of space which he then used to rip it open. He quickly flew through the tear before it sealed again. Despite Wulf teaching him how to do it he still sucked at it, which was the main reason he built his portal.

Once in the Zone he looked around for it. He found it after over two hours of searching, which only served to piss him off to the point where he began muttering curses under his breath.

Standing in front of it, he gave it a quick inspection. After inspecting the Runes, Danny had to admit that, whoever had stolen it, knew his way around them. They pretty much locked out anyone not authorized and or approved by the Caster. Too bad for them, Danny had the ‘Masterkey’ and went through anyway.

John Constantine was holding his face, quietly counting to ten. Neither smoking nor drinking would help in this situation. After reaching fifty he ran his hands over his head, looking at the assembled brigade of idiots in front of him.

“Okay, let me get this straight.” He started, “You,” he pointed at Batman, “found an ‘unknown energy signature’ and went to investigate. Then you found a high security lab with had an active portal to ‘who knows where’ and your first decision was to fucking steal it?!?!”

Superman moved forward, opening his mouth to counter but Constantine didn't let him. “AND you moron helped him steal it, not to mention you!” he pointed at flash, “Help install it here, in the watchtower, without telling anyone from JLD about it?”

Flash looked a bit sheepish at him. “Well, in my defense I didn’t know it was stolen.”

Constantine wanted to bash his head against the next closest bulkhead, maybe that would help.

“Okay, okay.” Constantine facepalmed, trying to stop the aneurysm from building up more.

A deep chill suddenly filled the air and sent goosebumps all over his back, “Oh this is just getting better and better.” Constantine reached into his pocket for a warding charm, before turning around and swearing. He stopped swearing when he saw who had come through. “Oh, hey Phantom.”

“Constantine, why the fuck did you steal my portal?” Danny wasn’t even pissed anymore. He knew the English drunktard too well to blame him. Granted he was obnoxious, didn’t pay back his debt and came whenever it suited him, but Danny liked the man. He didn’t exasperate problems and always did what was necessary.

“Look, I didn’t.” He then threw a thumb over his shoulder, “Those morons did.”

“Constantine, do you know this entity?” Batman already looked on high alert.

“Excuse you! I have a name. And that is my Portal. Explain why it isn't where it is supposed to be.”

“The sensors of the Watchtower found an unknown energy signature, upon investigation we found an unsecured pathway to a different dimension, so we secured it.”

Danny stared at Batman for a solid minute, then simply said, “Oh I'm going to sue your ass so hard your grandkids will feel it.”

[empresskylo]

trigger warning: age-gap, dub-con

john price knowing how wrong it is to think one of his sergeant's daughters is attractive.

he knows that when your father brings you to base one day, showing you around, he shouldn’t be looking at you the way he is. but the way you wore such a cute little skirt, exposing your soft legs, fuck, he found it hard. and the cute little bow you wore in your hair. he knows that shouldn’t be doing it for him… but it is.

and fuck, you’re way too young for him. how old did your father say you were? in your twenties? way too fucking young for the likes of him. and off limits. but when you give him a big smile, introducing yourself, he knows he shouldn’t have called you “doll.” the way you get shy at the pet name. fucking hell, he knows everything running through his mind is wrong.

he knows it’s wrong when he bumps into you as you find yourself on base rather often. how his hands linger on your back as he rights himself, the way you flush under his gaze, struggling to hold eye contact. and he definitely knows he shouldn’t be wondering what kind of underwear you have on. does it have a little bow? or are you wearing a lacy thong?

when you wander into his office one night, your father working late, he knows he should ignore you, ask you to leave. but he doesn’t. his eyes follow you as you stroll around the room. he knows he shouldn’t spin toward you in his chair as you approach, asking him innocent questions. he knows it’s wrong when he stands up and begins explaining the answer to you and you innocently move to sit on his desk. oh, and he definitely knows it’s wrong when he sits back down in his office chair, trapping you, your legs dangling off his desk in front of him. he sees the way you stutter, get all choked up at the close proximity.

he knows he shouldn’t take advantage of you, the way your lips part when his hand touches your exposed thigh. when you mumble “c-captain—?” confused at what he’s doing. he shouldn’t keep going, shouldn't want to elicit more bashful sounds as you struggle to compose yourself. knows he shouldn’t spread your legs in front of him, making your eyes widen. shouldn't grab your knees, pry your thighs apart. “what’re you—?” he knows he should have stopped then, but he didn’t. his fingers were too fast, finding the softness of your panties, stroking your core through the fabric. he had been waiting so fucking long for this. you were plaguing his thoughts. he didn't have a choice.

and you should have gotten up and ran out, but you didn’t. your legs fell a little more open for him, never imagining your little crush on your dad’s boss to amount to anything. and when price’s eyes go dark, his mind reeling with how you’re actually letting him touch you, you whimper.

and that was the end of price’s control (if he had any to begin with). everything else be damned. he no longer cares if it was wrong. he didn’t care that you were forbidden fruit. fuck, he had to have you. needed to have you. wanted to hear you make more sounds, and how your hand flew to your mouth to muffle the noises, embarrassed. “don’t go shy on me now, sweetheart.”

and when he pushes your pink panties to the side, letting his thick fingers slide into you, he groans. “so wet f’me?” he clicks his tongue. that’s when he realizes how badly you’ve wanted this too. how an older man who knows what he’s doing has enticed you. bet you’re wondering what it’s like to be with someone whose not some clumsy boy. but a man who cares about your pleasure above his own.

you gasp as he picks up speed, his lips tipping up as your eyes flutter. “feel good, sweetheart?” you nod vigorously, making him chuckle.

when his fingers leave you, you pout. “ever do this before?” he asks. your embarrassed reaction is answer enough. no, you haven’t. and that shouldn’t have made him groan. shouldn’t have made him stiffen even more in his already tightening pants. fuck, you were so innocent. and he was going to ruin you. ruin you for any other man.

so when he has you laying back on the desk, his cock in his hands, notching it between your thighs, he promises to go slow. you’re just so tight. “fuckin’ hell,” he curses when you flex around him. “this hurt?” he asks you, a bit out of breath.

you nod and he gives you a little kiss. “jus’ let yourself get used to me, doll. relax. there you go, atta girl. let me in, sweetheart.” he grunts as he bottoms out. your arms wrap around him and you whimper, feeling so stuffed.

he knows he should stay slow, let you take your time. but he can't. no, he thrusts into you, ignoring your yelps, and then he's done for. he keeps a steady pace rocking against you, already so close knowing no man has ever done this to you before, he remembers he never locked his door. the way his desk is bumping against the floor, someone might come in to investigate. and that someone could be your father.

he’d see his little girl, shirt shoved up to her chin, skirt hiked up around her waist, her arms wrapped tightly around his captain whose at least 15 years her senior as he thrusts into her, making her moan, taking her virginity roughly against his desk.

price knows he should tell you to quiet down, to not make so many noises, but all your little cries and mewls are sending him closer to the edge. his fingers find your clit and you mewl. you gasp and struggle to breathe, the sensation of everything so overwhelming. “gonna come for me, sweetheart?”

“i-i think so,” you stutter, tears streaming down your cheeks. he picks up his pace, his hips slamming into yours, his hand groping your breast roughly, sure to leave bruises. “that’s it, sweet girl,” he praises as he feels you tightening around him. feels your walls spasm. and when you finally orgasm, your body shaking under his weight, he spills himself inside you.

and he knows he should have pulled out. knows he should have used a condom. but he didn’t. in some sick twisted way, this was his way of claiming you. and you did so well letting him fill you up. your ankles tighten around him as if you don’t want him to leave. so he doesn't stop himself from spurting ropes inside you, the white liquid seeping out around his shaft.

you sit like that for several beats, arms grasping at him, clawing him against your chest, before he chuckles. “gotta let me go, sweetheart. don’t worry, i won’t go anywhere.” your legs fall away from him, realizing you are holding him hostage.

he groans when he pulls out, the way you leak all over his desk. he shouldn't enjoy that sight, the way you're laying languidly on his desk, out of breath, shaken up, his come dripping out of your weeping cunt.

but he does know he should help you up, clean you with a spare shirt he finds in his office. adjust your skirt and shirt so they sit properly again, your arms weak and limp at your side. kisses your forehead and tells you how good you did for him. tips your chin to look up at him, "really?" you ask, eyes hopeful and full of life.

"such a sweet girl," he coos, guiding you out of his office. and he knows your father won't have a clue. won't even notice the way you limp slightly as you walk. probably thinks his captain is so nice leading you through base, keeping you company while he works late.

and price knows he shouldn't do this again, shouldn't even think about doing it again. but you were just so good to him. so perfect as you let him have his way. your tiny gasps, the way you clawed at him, how tight you were. he wasn't sure he was strong enough to hold himself back.

cod masterlist

[dylsluvrs]

hi love! can i request a theo x reader something like ‘the moment i knew’ by taylor swift! pretty please with a cherry on top!

hi sweetpea! i love this request, thankyou for asking. i hope i can do it justice! i took a very different turn than i planned to, but i still hope you like it🥰

THE MOMENT I KNEW // THEODORE NOTT X FEM!READER

“i say hopelessly, ‘he said he’d be here.’”

playlist: the moment i knew - taylor swift

summary: in which reader loves her birthday, and theo makes empty promises.

warnings: bad language, angst, hurt/comfort, out of character slytherin group, established relationship.

your birthday had always been your favourite day of the year. you figured it was better than christmas. you loved the season it was in, how pretty the date looked on paper, and you loved the way theo always paid close attention to exactly what you wanted. you weren’t fussy by any means, just particular. you liked a select few people, but your birthday party was always a big bash, the whole of slytherin was always invited. theo made sure you were the centre of attention for everyone.

until he didn’t.

you lay on your bed, anxiously picking at the new colour on your nails, eyes darting back and forth following pansy’s figure. you were already an hour late for your own party, still deciding what to wear. you’d already picked an outfit, but pansy decided it simply wasn’t good enough. it was your seventeenth, you could finally use magic outside of school. this one needed to be special.

“i found it! this one is perfect.” she pulled out a simple yet elegant party dress, holding it up to your body as you lay on the bed, arms by your sides. “right. up you get, put the dress on, and we’re off.” you sighed in relief, quickly slipping on the dress, leaving your legs bare and tugging on a pair of heels she’d sprung from nowhere. “i love it. and so will theo. i bet he’s wondering where you are, you’re never late for your party.”

you hummed in response, touching up the red lipstick you adorned and linking your arm in pansy’s. you grinned as cheers erupted from the common room, the boys running up to you with smiles on their faces. “happy birthday, love.” enzo placed a sloppy kiss on your cheek, clearly having taken advantage of your absence for an hour. mattheo offered a hand, guiding you down the rest of the steps while draco fawned over pansy. “you look gorgeous. don’t tell theo i said that. he might curse me.” blaise’s eyes were wide and you let out a chuckle, eyes darting around the room.

“where is he?” your brows were furrowed, scanning the room in search of your boyfriend. “he’s not here yet…” you frowned, before snapping yourself out of it, bringing a smile to your lips. you were the birthday girl, after all. and appearances were everything. “i’m sure he’ll turn up, sweetheart.” mattheo sent a sympathetic smile in your direction, his eyes already hazy. you nodded, grabbing the drink out of his hand and tipping it down your throat with a wince.

you danced to the music for what seemed like hours, allowing yourself to be passed between the boys as a dance partner, and letting them fuel you up with more alcohol. this was a special birthday, and they’d be damned if you didn’t have a good time. you were constantly bombarded with questions on theo’s whereabouts, and it took everything in you not to cry.

he said he’d be here.

before long, you were staged in the middle of the room, pansy’s dainty hands clapped over your eyes. you heard the soft start of a strained happy birthday song, before pansy peeled her hands away, allowing you to look at the cake that blaise held tightly in his hands.

theo still wasn’t there.

it had gotten late in the night, and students began to leave, giving small goodbyes and stumbling their way to their dorms, until it was just your friends left. “thank you for a truly wonderful birthday, guys. i don’t know what i’d do without you.” they could all see the tears forming in your eyes, sympathetic smiles bombarding your vision. “i think i just need to be alone for a moment.” you excused yourself, bounding up the stairs before the tears could fall.

you fell to your bed, broken sobs escaping your lips. you heard the shuffles of many pairs of feet, listening as they stopped outside your door. hushed whispers that weren’t so hushed. “do you think we should go in?” you heard a faint slap, and a small cry. “no, you toad! he’s spoiled her favourite day. he’ll be lucky i don’t fucking curse him.”

speak of the devil, and he shall appear.

theo walked up the stairs, bleary eyed and heavy, coming to a stop as he saw the huddle of his friends outside your dorm. “what the fuck are you playing at?” as much as mattheo wanted to shout, he kept his voice level, eyes menacing as he glared at the brunette boy. “what?” it was only then that theo took notice of everyone’s appearance. party clothes. “fuck!” he ran his hands through his hair, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“i fucking forgot. cara mia? i’m sorry. can you let me in?” blaise and mattheo stood firmly at the door, arms crossed over their chests. this wasn’t intimidating to theo, but pansy’s glare was. “you’re a fucking arsehole, theodore. the one day a year she asks for.” she threw her hands up, storming off with draco in tow.

“let me talk to her.” the boy tried to move towards the door, being pushed back by blaise’s hand on his chest. “let her calm down, mate. she’s heartbroken.” theo sighed in frustration, hand coming forward to knock on the door. “amore, please let me in. i can explain.”

you shuffled to the door, opening it a small amount. you stood there in your pyjamas, makeup smeared across your tear stained cheeks. “it’s okay, matty. let him in.” you placed a soft hand on mattheo’s shoulder, and he smiled sympathetically down at you. he huffed at theo, but nonetheless stepped aside to allow him in the room.

“we’ll stay out here in case you need us, yeah?” if you couldn’t count on your boyfriend, at least you knew you could count on his friends. you closed the door behind you and allowed theo to take in your appearance. your cheeks were covered in tears and mascara, red lipstick smudged across your lips and your hair dishevelled.

“i’m sorry, tesoro. i was with my father, and i completely forgot what today was. it’s been a rough week.” you scoffed, shoving past him to sit on your bed, facing away from him. “it’s not good enough, theo. you said you’d be here. you lied. i spent three fucking hours getting ready, and i had no one there to impress.”

theo ran his hands through his hair again, another frustrated huff leaving his chapped lips. “was it a good party?” your eyes were fixed on him, narrowed. if looks could kill, theo would be dead before he hit the ground. “no thanks to you. your friends had to keep me distracted so i couldn’t think about how my own boyfriend didn’t show up!”

“i’m sorry, piccola. my father-” you tensed up at the mention of the man. you knew how theo loathed his father. maybe even more than you loathed your own. there was a special place in azkaban reserved for him. “i need to show you something. i promise, this is not an excuse for missing your birthday. but please, i’m begging you, amore, don’t be mad.” your heart was pounding in your chest, palms becoming sweaty.

he pulled the sleeve of his shirt up, coming closer to you. he’d invaded your space, the smell of his aftershave surrounding you. you gasped as he turned his arm, watching the way the snake danced across his skin. “teddy…” tears threatened to fall again. the guilt was beginning to creep in. you knew theo wouldn’t miss your birthday for anything short of his own death, but you had been blinded by sadness.

“no, no, tesoro, don’t cry. va bene. tutto andrà bene.” you shook your head, hands grasping at his shirt. you knew mattheo had the dark mark, he was practically given it at birth, but you’d never expected theo’s father to be so evil. “you’re a deatheater, teddy. you-you’re going to have to do horrendous things.”

you knew all about the inner workings of the dark lord’s army, your father had been apart of it for years, and mattheo had been in your dorm crying into your shoulder about the things he’d witnessed. “baby, nothing will happen. we’ll be alright. i’ve got mattheo, okay? we will take care of each other.”

“how will i take care of you now?” you had begun pacing, theo’s hands coming out to grasp your waist, pulling you into his chest with a soothing hand on the back of your head. “i’m supposed to take care of you, cara mia. you are my life.”

“i’ll get one too. you cant face this alone, teddy. we said we’d be with each other through everything. this is everything.” you were mumbling into his chest but he understood every word. he stood back, hands coming up to cup your jaw, eyes poring into your own.

“no. look at me. you are not doing this.” you pushed his hands away, moving yours to grab his jaw now. “yes i am. all i have to do is ask, theo. you know my father’s itching to have me join the dark army. i said i was in this for better or for worse.” theodore knew better than to argue with you. even if you did agree to listen to him, you were cunning enough to take matters into your own hands. either way, your skin would be tainted. either by the dark lord’s hands, or his own. he was fearful. you were the light at the end of the tunnel, but you would always choose to follow him into the darkness.

“forever and always, cara mia.”

“forever and always, teddy.”

[mightbeimpossiblenotto]

Drunk - Oct 1 - @rosekillermicrofic - 1,118 words - Warnings: biting

(a/n- this turned out a lot longer than I had planned, and it took me two extra days, sorry!!!)

Barty loved and hated his job in equal parts. As a bartender, he got all the free booze he could get away with taking, and he always had somewhere to go at night. But he also saw and heard way too much shit from the lovely crowd that frequented his favorite dive bar.

There was a big group coming in from some sports tournament that Barty couldn’t be bothered to care about. He did appreciate the extra tips, but if he had to hear one more anecdote about the “game-winning goal,” he was going to bash his head in with one of the whiskey tumblers.

There were a pair of blonds down at the end of the bar, away from all of the hustle and bustle. One man, one woman, and Barty thought they had to be twins or at the very least siblings, for they shared the same platinum-blond hair and sharp-as-glass features. They didn’t seem to be a part of the bigger crowd, as they kept to themselves at the back of the long room, occasionally ordering a simple cocktail from Barty.

He was a little obsessed with the man, he could admit. His cheekbones cut his tan face exquisitely, and his ice-blue eyes seemed to pin Barty into place every time he caught them with his own. But even with Barty’s most obvious come-ons, the man didn’t seem to give a twitch of interest or even amusement.

When a too-drunk patron had nearly climbed over the bar to get Barty’s attention, he needed a compelling distraction, or he might actually have to kill himself on the job. He caught sight of the blond man down at the end of the bar again, and pulled out a whiskey glass to begin making a drink.

A moment later, he smoothly plucked up the finished cocktail and sauntered on over to the pair of blonds. He slid the drink in front of the man, interrupting whatever conversation the two had been having before he came over.

“Oh,” the man said, blinking down at the drink. He looked back up at Barty. “I didn’t order this.”

“It’s on the house,” Barty winked.

The woman sitting next to him was smiling slightly, looking between them, but the man was still frowning down at his drink. “What is it?”

“It’s a whiskey smash,” Barty said. “Because you’re just smashing. And I think we should smash. Whichever pun you like more.”

The man’s expression fell flat, his eyes coming up to meet Barty’s with an unimpressed glare. But the woman burst out with a melodic laugh, reaching out to nudge her sour companion.

“That was brilliant!” She gasped. “Oh, I like you. I’m Pandora, and this is my brother, Evan.”

Barty grinned at her, dipping his head in a nod in her direction. “My name is Barty.”

The man, Evan, was still glaring at him. “Don’t you have a job you should be doing?”

“I’m doing it right now,” Barty said, leaning up against the bar casually. “I’m checking in on my two favorite patrons.”

Pandora beamed at him, but Evan’s glower remained. Barty wanted him, bad.

“I think you should go back to the customers who actually want your attention,” Evan deadpanned. Barty fought hard to hide his smile, but he couldn’t help the corners of his lips turning up.

“I’ll win you over by the end of the night, you’ll see.” Barty teased.

“Don’t bet on it,” Evan quipped, taking a sip of his whiskey smash and nodding his head in response to the taste.

“Ah, but I’ve always favored low odds,” Barty said, leaning in with a wide grin.

“These odds are nonexistent,” Evan responded, staring at him blankly. Barty had to get this guy to fucking respond to him, even if the response was anger.

“You’re really sending me mixed signals, what with all the flirting you’re doing,” Barty said. Pandora laughed at the two of them, a melodic tinkle behind their words.

“This isn’t flirting. This is barely toleration,” Evan snapped.

“Ooh, tell me again how much you can’t stand me, it’s getting me hot and bothered.” Barty swooned against the top of the bar, lifting a hand to his forehead to tie together his dramatics. Pandora was laughing again, but Evan’s face hadn’t changed.

“Are you looking for a big tip or something?” Evan asked. “Because I might not tip at all, after this.”

“I don’t want your money, Evan,” Barty purred, leaning as close as he could, so that they were mere inches apart. Evan’s eyes flicked down to his lips, and then quickly raced back up to meet his eyes again, as if it had never happened. But Barty had seen. “I want something else.”

Finally, finally, Barty caught a hint of arousal in the other man’s eyes and in the set of his jaw as he clenched his teeth. There was a long pause, Barty trying to ramp up the tension between them, before Evan wholly surprised him by taking initiative.

One moment Barty was leaning ever-closer, and the next, Evan had fisted his shirt in one strong hand, yanking him half over the bar and leaving his feet dangling over the other side. Evan had stood, leaving his bar stool empty, and now he was looming over Barty as he scrambled for purchase on the too-smooth surface of the bar.

Evan yanked him up by his shirt, and then unceremoniously ducked down to bite the side of his neck harshly. Barty gasped, his hands coming up to grip Evan’s arms as he held him in place. It felt as if he’d been dunked into fire, his heart was racing and his blood was boiling. His nails bit into Evan’s arms, but he didn’t dare stop, pressing his teeth in deeper and then flicking his tongue over the sore spot. Barty stifled a moan, trying not to thrust against the bar for friction.

After a prolonged stretch of Evan’s teeth and tongue abusing the side of Barty’s throat, he finally pulled away, dropping Barty immediately. Barty awkwardly slid back down so that his feet touched the floor again, straightening out the black button-down he was wearing. His neck, where Evan had left his mark, was throbbing in pleasure-pain.

Evan looked him over, eyes lingering on what was sure to be a very obvious hickey on the side of Barty’s throat. Barty swallowed roughly. He was maybe a little in-over-his-head, not that he cared one bit. Pandora was laughing, but Barty only had eyes for Evan.

“Meet me after your shift, Barty.” Evan gave him a slow, almost-sweet smile. His eyes had gone a little darker, his skin a touch flushed.

And Barty did.

[whalesforhands]

small drabble of mc tagging on a mission w megumi?? is megumi still a mamas boy even in his first year or does he treat mc js like he treats satoru and suguru?

YIPPEE I HAVENT HAD AN OPPORTUNITY TO WRITE SMTHG LIKE THIS IN A BIT

“Did you all bring your bags? Do you need lunch? Oh, please keep the Jujutsu Tech uniforms on at all times, it’s supposed to be made out of special material resistant against—“

“Maaaa! We know!” Nanako’s pouting at you, flicking a strand of her blonde hair back as she huffs, trying to fix her bangs as the charms upon her smartphone jingle. “We’re not kids anymore!”

“But you’ll always be my children.” Your arms hug all of them impossibly tighter, squeezing around your teenaged children that you swore were barely up to your waist only just a while back…

Yet, they all shot up, with towering heights and healthy physiques paired with the vitality only spry young teenagers could have.

(You have to give yourself credit for raising them so well. Was it Suguru’s cooking that made them grow up so fast?)

“It’s not that big of a deal.” Megumi’s clearly embarrassed, eyebrows furrowed, and averting gaze despite the reddened tips of his ears as he lets you squeeze him and his sisters to your chest. “We’re gonna be fine.”

(He’s so glad that you’re doing this at home and not out in public…)

“It may be our first mission, but we’ve followed Papa and Dad long enough…” Mimiko’s voice is always soft, collected. Always trailing upon the same tone even when you finally let go to let her breathe properly once more, even when you pat down stray strands of her hair— And ruffle it again out of nervousness.

(Teenagers are so hard to figure out. How are they so calm? It’s their first mission!)

“It’s different from the ones you follow your fathers on, kids.” You’re sighing again as you recall the report sheet of the site, hand subconsciously rubbing and messing with someone’s hair as Nanako’s squeaks of complaints fall on deaf ears.

“How about this one?” Gojo Satoru has you on his lap, a hand on the small of your back and the other dangling another sheet of paper before your tired eyes, letting you scan through the nth Curse sighting— Of Grade 3 and below only, of course. “Not too difficult, piece of cake fodder, ya know?”

“Disappearances of 2 kids, Satoru. It might be easy to you, so I’ll take this mission on instead—“

“Ah, ah.” He tuts you, a waggling finger placed upon your lips and hushing you. “No refuting me! We had an agreement that if ya disagreed by the 5th one, I get full control.” His smile makes you uneasy as your bet dawns upon you.

“Plus, dear,” He brings you close, his whisper in your ear doing its best to try and soothe your still panicked state despite the blindfold upon his face. “There’s nothing to worry about if I’m the one chaperoning!”

(“…that’s the part I’m worried about.”

“Hmph! Have you no faith in your strongest husband? I’ll have you know that I have been chaperoning tons of these kids! And with only mild complaints and near death experiences—“ You let him trail off, patting his cheek as he continues on, and on and on— Until you briefly kiss him to stop him in his tracks, lest he went on a tangent about… Washing machines?)

They grow up so fast. You could swear it was only moments ago when you had a Megumi that needed help tying his shoes, a Nanako who always begged both yourself and your husbands to sit down for a makeover, a Mimiko who trailed after you wherever you went— And a Tsumiki who never wanted to let go of your hand.

Time really flies when you’re standing at the genkan, nervously fretting over their bags, giving their Jujutsu Tech uniforms several once overs, and watching your front door open as they slowly start to leave.

“We’ll be back for dinner, if you’re so worried.” Megumi’s quiet, almost muttering under his breath as he grumbles about his assurance to you, blue eyes averted away out of shy bashfulness.

“Gumi’s got a point, Mama! We’re gonna be back in one piece in no time! It’s a 3v1 sesh’ afterall!”

“Mhm.”

Ah, your kids really have grown up.

nvy’s aftertalk:

no i’m not back yet and my tests are in the following weeks so i’ve been studying like a madman hehe. (i hope whichever professor started the trend of surprise quizzes with weightages every week is only ever able to find one sock)

to all of u affected by the hurricane, stay safe!!!!

[ch6douin]

I’m glad you liked my drunk player showering plushies with kiss kiss ideas. Now i give you one more before I disappear into the night. Plushies giving player a “kiss” (just the plushies smooshing their face on players face, maybe even a hand kiss of its a more gentlemanly plush, jose plush I feel, most of the hunter plushes, maybe frederick, so many possibilities)

Andrew happening to walk by before noticing you kneeling down before his plushie self, he hides himself to watch this interaction. Andrew plushie keeps motioning the player forward as if to tell them a secret. And as players face is right there, it hesitates before summoning all the strength its little plush body has, and “kisses” you on the cheek. Startled, player moves back, before probably giving a gentle laugh and giving plush Andrew a lil forehead kiss. Andrew is kept awake at night by this, especially by player’s reaction.

Naib’s plush gives gnight kiss kiss. I imagine Naib, who’s probably still wary, would probably always be having an eye on player, so he doesn’t trust the plushie either; just cause its ugly in a cute way (kinda) doesn’t meant it doesn’t have malicious plans. Even if the player isn’t responsible for the game, they could still possibly be apart of the reason they arent able to leave. Still probably witnessing a peacefully sleeping player and Naib’s plush giving them a lil “kiss” on the lips has him stone faced but the red is starting to appear on his cheeks and tips of his ears, each time he witnesses it he gets a bit more relaxed cause players not doing anything suspicious. Still probably suspicious tho.

Emil and ada’s plushies give each other kisses. Player is often awing at the way they express their love to each other. They probably dont kiss player much but will take players hands to give player little finger kisses. These two plushs are one of the few that hang out with their survivor selfs a bit more than hanging around player. They melt ada and emils hearts everytime they see them.

Mikes plush does a LOT. Fucking plush will be on like a chandelier and player is speaking to another when suddenly the plush has jumped and done smooshed its face to player. It gives player a heart attack every time which is why its not done often. He probably will just jump on player relaxing to give a lil cheek kiss before back flipping away. Mike is both trying to stop it but also giving it more ideas.

Soul weaver plush is also kinda like mike in giving player a lil kiss in a big way. Im talking this lil plush can spit webs. Why? Because I said so. So players gonna get some web spit kisses at the most random times. Plush weaver can and will climb on you to perch on your shoulder just for a better angle to give you some regular kiss kiss or another wen spit kiss. Soul weaver herself is pretty bashful about it and plush weaver is given a stern talking to by her for every incident.

Enjoy my brain dump hope you like this one too

Thank you anon this is adorable you have my mind working with these. (Plushie!Andrew having more game than the actual Andrew is SO FUNNY btw.)

Not all of their plushies express their adoration towards player only by kisses though, Plush!Norton is often gifting you pretty-looking minerals and rocks to have your attention solely on it, and then, trying to use its small magnet to pull you towards it for a cheek kiss(it doesn't work). You think that maybe its counterpart is helping behind the curtains...

Plush!Emily is always at your disposal, if it senses you're not feeling well you can bet its grabbing the edge of your clothes and trying to drag you towards the Nurse's Office so the real Emily could help you. It gives those forehead kisses like a mother would, you know?

Plush!Luca with that eternal toothy smile of it zapping you playfully and running away before you react. Until it finally gets lifted by its collar and its next move is to swing towards your face and smash its own on your cheek. Other than that, Plushie!Luca is more often seen with the actual Luca who finds the plushie so intriguing and interacts with it a lot. It's so much easier to work when he has some help.

Plush!Anne is always seen with its counterpart too, Anne is so pleased to have this adorable company that she makes an exact copy of her glider and a catapult. You can see it gliding around often, dropping by your shoulder sometimes and giving the tiniest kiss to your cheek before gliding away as fast as it can.

Plush!Edgar is not really what you could call social, but its curiosity is piqued whenever you do something that involves art. This is when you see it at the most, demanding you put it on your lap or a nearby chair so it can tug at your clothes whenever it considers you're doing something wrong. Edgar checks his plushie now and then, after all, it cannot taint his reputation while using his face. It's not surprising though that Plushie!Edgar is just like his counterpart when guiding you through the process of making art, and that leaves Edgar with a satisfied smile. No, I don't think it would kiss you, let it be enough that you earned its attention.

Plush!Frederick is anywhere music is, walking around with elegance that a few plushies lack. It will seek you out though so the two of you can appreciate the beauty of music, and then, thank you with a kiss on the back of your hand. I'm not sure but I don't think it stays a lot with Frederick, so you won't see them together a lot.

Plush!Mary is hard to please, of course. She still likes to assert the composure of a Queen. Share with her desserts, dance with her, gift her cute ribbons and other accessories, and maybe, just maybe she'll kiss you.

PS: I was going to put Tracy or Martha too but i got lazy at the end plus I didn't know exactly what to write 💀

[halfhissandwich]

What your favorite Sanders Sides episode says about you because I’m binging the series rn and I wanna do this. All of this is a joke, I’m just being silly

My True Identity: Wow look at the fun little identity crisis series! Would be a shame if this goes downhill, right? Yeah, that’s what denial of the inevitable sounds like.

Way Too Adult: I’m willing to bet you’re a fan of the Unsympathetic Patton stuff. Just the vibe I get.

Taking on Anxiety!: I’m so sorry for the atrocities that have occurred in this fandom regarding Virgil. All you wanted was a sassy little emo boy and the fandom made him the embodiment of uwu, I’M SO SORRY-

A New Year of Lying to Myself… In Song!: You just like the song. I feel you, I like the song too.

The Dark Side of Disney!: We meet again, prinxiety shippers. :)

I’m in a Disney show!: Your favorite character is C!Thomas.

The Mind vs. The Heart: I won’t say you’re a logicality shipper… but if they got married, you definitely wouldn’t complain.

Dad’s Big Game Day Tips: … Daddy issues. I’m sorry, it needed to be said.

Alone on Valentines Day: I don’t have a joke here, but I’ll just say that my first thought was “aromantic”, so take that as you will.

Losing My Motivation: Oh my gosh. We get it. Logan is wonderful. That’s the 5th PowerPoint you’ve made today. Please just let me go home.

Q&A: You want an updated one. Me too, buddy, me too.

Am I Original: Going back and rewatching this video after POF makes you cry every single time.

My Negative Thinking: Hey analogical shippers, how are you doing? Still starving? … anyway let’s do some more logicality and prinxiety, shall we? :)

Growing Up: You’re everything that the people who’s favorite episode is “Losing My Motivation” are, but for Patton, and you don’t understand why the fandom thinks he’s kind of problematic.

Making Some Changes: *obnoxious chanting* LAMP LAMP LAMP LAMP LAMP LAMP LAMP LAMP LAM-

Becoming A Cartoon: … I won’t say anything. I won’t crush your dreams. I’ll just observe, smile, nod and just move on.

Accepting Anxiety: I don’t blame you, a lot of work was put into that episode. By the way you know you can ship prinxiety platonically, right? You can like it platonically without liking it romantically, I-I hope you know that-

Fitting In: You’re actively choosing to ignore drama online and I’m impressed with that, also you are aware that it’s messed up to bash Thomas for making a Harry Potter video 6 years ago, IT WAS SIX YEARS AGO AND HE LIKED HARRY POTTER, DON’T YOU DARE CANCEL THOMAS FOR THAT-

Moving On: Sorry, I’d write a joke for this one but I’m too busy crying-

12 Days Of Christmas: holy wow- no thoughts, head empty. You saw the colorful and festive little Christmas special and you actually said “:D” out loud.

Can Lying be Good: THEATER KIDS, ASSEMBLE!

Why do we get out of bed in the morning?: You probably said one thing in support of logince at one point in your entire life and you got chased with pitchforks by the prinxiety shippers and then Roman started bullying Logan, I am so sorry for this fandom’s sins :(

Crofters the musical: You’re basically Roman in this episode. “But look at him now! (Cue Logan chugging jam like a fucking madman) He’s just so COOL!”

Learning New Things About Ourselves: Your motto is “angst doesn’t exist if I can’t see it.”

Embarrassing Phases: I… completely forgot this episode existed. This is your favorite? I’m not judging your taste or anything, but what’s with your taste?

Selfishness v. Selflessness: Your favorite design? Janus. Your favorite personality? Janus. Your favorite ship? A Janus ship. Your favorite side? … Logan.

Dealing with Intrusive Thoughts: Remus’ abandonment issues aren’t canon. But if I say that too loud, then you people might stab me, so nevermind.

Are There Healthy Distractions: Apparently this episode’s plot of Thomas forgiving his previously homophobic friend is an analogy for Thomas forgiving Virgil for having been a dark side. That’s the connection! I missed it too! I thought it was a silly Frozen episode too! IT’S ABOUT VIRGIL!

Putting Others First: … guys, you can stop fighting the moceit vs roceit war, neither of them will ever be canon. ALSO HOLY WOW PATTON IS A FROG AND HE’S RIPPED FOR SOME REASON, WHAT THE FU-

Flirting With Social Anxiety: Your number one headcanon for the season 2 finale is a direct Frozen quote where Patton is like “Thomas you can’t marry a man you just met” and Roman is like “you can if it’s true love! >:0” (also hi again prinxiety shippers!)

Working Through Intrusive Thoughts: You have anger issues and you relate to Logan. Or you’re just happy to see the silly, goofy, demented Duke with fandom-inflicted abandonment issues!

[tojiscumdumpster]

CHAPTER TWELVE - TOJI

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 Something fucking hits my chest hard when I watch Y/N from afar, waiting for me by the sit-down restaurant where we agreed to meet. 

 She’s just casually sitting there, scrolling through her phone with a soft smile on her face, and I could bet money that she’s watching animal videos. Something I learned about her. Fucking obsessed that woman is. 

 I’ve never had social media before meeting Y/N, but I solely made an account so she could send me those videos of owners washing their dogs or naked cats fighting each other. 

 But what I’m feeling right now is burning the living shit out of my body… in a good way.

 We’d video chat a couple of times throughout the week, and if our schedules align, meet up on the weekends. I know what Y/N looks like. Her face is engraved in my head. But right now while I’m looking at her, I can get over how fucking pretty she is.

 The fresh loose braids that fall to the tip of her ass. The natural glow she has when she sits under the sun, bringing out the brown of her complexion. The fucking floral-printed dress she’s wearing that she sent me a photo of this morning that had me ripping the skin off my cock, holding tight around her waist and flowing down a little past her knees. 

 Everything.

 Everything about Y/N is fucking perfect. 

 Perfection is a myth. A bullshit concept, but for her it’s not.

 Can’t think of a single flaw when it comes to that woman.

 She’s too good.

 For me.

 That’s what my mind will always tell me, and I’ll believe that shit, too.

 When she finds out the real me, she’ll leave. Probably forget we ever happened. Still, the time she’s giving me now, I’ll take it.

 Like on cue, feeling someone staring at her like a damn creep, she looks up at me and holds contact. That huge fucking smile that spreads across her pretty lips has me thinking when was the last time someone was that excited to see me?

 Fushiguro, what the fuck? Why would you care? 

 I don’t. At least, that’s what I’m trying to convince myself. 

 It’s just a nice feeling to have, alright?

 I start walking toward Y/N and she closes the distance by throwing herself at me. Her arms wrap around my neck, and I fold one of my own around Y/N’s waist to squeeze her tight against my body. 

 So damn sweet she smells. Always like vanilla and warm berries. And soft, comforting, even. It feels almost too domestic to kiss her neck repeatedly, but I do it anyways because it’s fucking addicting. 

 “Hi, big guy.”

 “You okay?” She nods, giving me a kiss on the cheek. “You look beautiful, sweets.”

 She pulls apart from my embrace, but keeps her arms around my neck and looks at me, bashful as shit. “Thank you.”

 I pull Y/N back to me and kiss her. It’s like she was waiting for that because the minute my lips are on hers, she relaxes. 

 The taste of her mango flavored gloss lingers on me.

 No tongue. No lip biting. Just a kiss that felt warmer than our other ones.

 She grabs my face to peck my lips back to back until she feels content, and honestly, I didn’t want her to stop.

 Not when she tastes that fucking good.

 PDA isn’t my thing. I actually hate it. Y/N just makes it hard for me.

 Managing to keep my hands to myself when I see her is like expecting pigs to fly, knowing that shit wouldn’t happen. 

 “I know you feel my dick pressing against you,” I rasped. Because the more she keeps kissing me like that, the more tempted I am to fuck her.

 “Maybe I enjoy taunting you? Never crossed your mind that I’m a sadist?” She asks, teasingly.

 “You? A high school teacher?”

 “Being a high school teacher is my seven to three activities, Mr. Fushiguro. After hours is a different story.”  The sexy smile and wink she flashes me has my cock throbbing even harder than before. A fucking minx Y/N is. 

 The day I do fuck her, I’ll make her regret teasing me like this, but a slap on her ass to help that cute yelp will do. 

 After we sat down, the server came over with water and took our orders.  Our conversation was comfortable while waiting for our meals. I split my attention between listening to Y/N and being lost in my thoughts. 

 Hanging out with her feels good. Always does, but it feels so fucking foreign yet familiar. 

 I don’t do this. 

 I don’t invite women out to lunch or other dates. Don’t sit on the phone with them for hours or video chat in silence just to feel their presence while they’re grading high school papers. 

 I don’t have the urge to kiss them every damn second of the day. And I definitely don’t stare at them with a goofy smile on my face, either. 

 But I do with Y/N. Everything about her, us being around each other, feels too fucking intimate. 

 Like how she giggles while swiping the crumbs off the corner of my mouth or me calling her adorable whenever she shies away from my compliments. 

 Her playing with my hair while talking to me. It’s too fast. We’re too fast. 

 Maybe I should step back a little. Can’t grow attached because I know all this is temporary. 

 Everything good is. 

 You unlovable child. 

 Yeah, I know. The Zen’in made sure to remind me every fucking day. 

 “Toji?” Y/N calls for me, sounding like it was her third time trying to get my attention. “You okay, big guy? You zoned out on me for a second.”

 I shake from my musings and clear my throat. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine. Just tired.”

 “Then you should’ve stayed home and got some rest.” Her voice is soft when speaking to me. She doesn’t seem bothered from my horrible excuse to why I’m tired (I’m not). 

 Just pure concern. 

 “Nah, I’ll be fine. Wanted to see you, plus I think the kid would appreciate having me out the house.”

 “How is everything going with Megumi? Still rocky?”

 I chuckle. “Like walking on fucking eggshells.”

 Y/N rests her chin on her hand and gives a reassuring smile, still playing with my hair. “He’ll come through, Toji.”

 “Why are you so positive about it? Me and Megumi’s relationship?” 

 “Hm, because he’s a good kid and I know you’re trying to be active in his life,” she answers. “Yeah, he got suspended from school because he was fighting. And honestly, I shouldn’t be saying this as a teacher, but the reason for the fight was… valid? Or should I say understandable?”

 I raise my brows with a teasing smirk. “Miss L /N? Advocating for teens fighting?”

 “No, silly.” She returns the banter, rolling her eyes at me. “I’m just saying I see your protective nature passed down to him.”

 I quip a brow, confused. “Yeah?”

 “Mhm, one of his classmates was being picked on by the seniors and Megumi defended him. Well, I suppose calling them friends wouldn’t be far-fetched.” The shocked look on my face has Y/N just as confused. “What?”

 “He left out the part where he defended his friend.”

 “Really? What did he tell you?” 

 I throw my head back and laugh, running my hand through my hair. “That they were making fun of his English. You know he’s trying his damn hardest to convince me he doesn’t have friends?”

 Oh, I’m definitely going to hound the kid now with this new piece of information. To make it even better, Y/N tells he has three friends he sticks with throughout school. 

 Why does this shock me? Because my fifteen-year-old boy is finally making friends. A little sign to show that he won’t be a fuck up like me. 

 Didn’t have any myself when I was in school. Those Zen’in fucks were proud to make me their punching bag. It even spread around the school I went to, so no one wanted to be around me.

 Like I gave a fuck. I eventually dropped out anyway. 

 But Megumi? It’s my job as his parent to make sure he doesn’t experience the same shit I went through. He wasn’t always an introverted or shy kid. 

 When it was me, him, and his mother, he was always animated. Gave me a hard time, but always made sure to show affection to his old man. 

 Papa, carry me on your back!

 Love you, too, Papa.

 Papa… Ha, can’t remember the last time I heard him call me that. 

 Nostalgia weighs heavily on me. 

 Guess I should be grateful he still calls me Dad, at least. 

 The weight of Y/N’s stare reminds me I’m not alone. Big brown, glossy doe eyes casting the softest while looking at me. She must’ve noticed the strained expression on my face. 

 My response would be I don’t need pity, but that’s not the face she’s giving me. 

 I grabbed her chin and leaned forward to kiss her lips, groaning upon contact because she’s has the softest and sweetest mouth I ever fucking tasted. 

 A pleasurable sigh escapes her nose while our mouths become acquainted with each other, but I pull back before it deepens. 

 An old fucking pervert like me getting hard at a deli restaurant ‘cuz he’s kissing an outrageously hot woman? Yeah, calm down, big guy. 

 “I’m fine, sweets,” I reassure, answering her unspoken question before we kissed. “Just nice knowing he’s making friends.”

 “I know.” Y/N rubs the right side of my mouth where my scar sits, something she does a lot to comfort me. But never once has she asked me how it got there.

 Maybe she’s just waiting for me to open up. 

 Maybe one day I will. 

 Her phone timer goes off and she groans. “That hour went by way too fast.”

 “Too late to call in sick?” I teased.

 “Yeah, I think I’m about five hours too late.”

 We enjoy some more conversation while we wait for the server to come back with the bill. 

 But the second I was about to say some perverted joke to Y/N, some fucker interrupts us. 

 “Y/N?”

 She looks up to see who’s calling her and the smile that was on her face drops like she drank sour milk. 

 “Ken? I mean, Principal Nanami. What are you doing here?”

 Principal Nanami? You mean the jackass who submitted her name to that summit crap? Her fucking ex? My posture immediately becomes rigid and I let out a deep breath. 

 I don’t know this fucker from a can of paint, but I know enough from Y/N what told me, and let’s just say I’m not a fan. 

 She never badmouthed him. Y/N isn’t that type of woman. She loves hard because even with the heartbreak he caused her, she still finds a way to stay positive.

 Not me, though. Last thing I want to hear from her is how some motherfucker broke her heart because he didn’t give her the time that she deserved. 

 And if you think I’m supposed to give a damn that he’s the principal at my kid’s school, I don’t. 

 My fist is itching to connect to his face, especially when I see the motherfucker checking her out with the eyes only another perverted ass man like me would know. 

 Y/N notices the change in my demeanor, so she begins talking to relieve the tension and silence in the air the moment her ex felt comfortable coming up to us.

 Us…

 “Uhm, are you grabbing lunch?” She asks, nervously. 

 Not nervous like she’s been caught doing something she isn’t supposed to do. But nervous because she knows her ex is on my shit list. 

 One thing I can say about him is that he has balls. He feels my glare piercing his skull, but instead of avoiding it, we have a stare down. 

 “Yes,” he answers, still looking at me. “Appears that you’re leaving? You were on your free hour?”

 “Yeah. About to head back now.” She stands up and runs her hands down her dress to smooth out any wrinkles. And it only gave her ex a better look at her appearance. 

 That’s when the stare down ended. 

 “You look lovely. I’ve always admired that color on you,” he admits, like I’m not fucking here. 

 This motherfucker is really testing my patience.

 Before she responded, I stood up and interrupted. “Everything’s okay?”

 “Why wouldn’t it be?” He asks.

 I shrug, fisting my hands in my pockets.  “Don’t know much about manners, but it makes sense to speak to everyone in a setting you entered.”

 Like I give a fuck about manners. But he has another fucking thing come if he thinks he’ll talk to Y/N without addressing me. 

 “Oh,” he chuckles. “My apologies. Nanami Kento.” And offers a handshake, which I ignored.

 “Fushiguro.”

 “Hm.” His attention returns to Y/N. “Y/N, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about the teacher’s summit. If you could stop by my office after you’re done with your classes for the day.”

 “Alright,” she deadpans. 

 “Well, I don’t want to take up any more of your time. Enjoy the rest of your hour.” Is all he says before walking inside of the restaurant. 

 Annoyance still rolls off my skin even after the fucker, but Y/N laces her fingers with mine, and surprisingly enough, I calm down.

 “That was awkward, wasn’t it?” I know her question was rhetorical. A way to lighten the mood, however, I answered it anyway.

 “No. I wanted to punch him.”

 She lets out a short giggle and shifts her weight onto one leg. “You can’t punch my boss, Toji.”

 “Boss? No. Ex? Yes.”

 “Whatever. Come on before I’m late.” Y/N began pulling me toward the street before the waiter came back, so I left enough cash to cover for food and tip.

 We walk in a comfortable silence to her car, and it’s something I appreciate. 

 I’ll never get tired of listening to Y/N’s voice. It’s calming. But just having her next to me is enough. Hand holding and all. 

 Didn’t take us long to get to her car and it made me fucking wish she parked farther. 

 “Thank you for lunch. That spot is good,” she says, breaking the silence. Y/N takes out her keys to unlock her door and I open it for her. Before she gets in, she turns to look at me. “Sorry… You know… about earlier.”

 “Why are you saying sorry?”

 “I don’t know. He was-”

 “Any fucker would act like that if they saw their ex that they clearly miss out with another guy,” I interrupted. “Me? Probably would’ve sat down and crashed your date.”

 She shakes her head, smiling. “Remind me to never break up with you.” And immediately she realizes what slipped past her mouth, trying to clean it up. “Uh, I don’t mean break up. I mean, uhm… whatever is going on between us… you and me.”

 Us.

 You and me. 

 “Yeah, whatever is going on between us,” I mock softly with a small smile on my face. “Text me when you made it safe.”

 For a quick second, something changed. Y/N looks down and tucks a braid behind her ear, fumbling with her keys. Maybe she’s overthinking the breaking up comment. 

 Yeah, it threw me off, but I can’t blame her for thinking we’re together seeing how fast we’re moving.

 Sometimes I forget my damn self. 

 She needs reassurance, and of course my words are stuck in my fucking head. So I do the next thing I think would help. 

 I tipped her chin upwards and kissed her. Usually I kiss Y/N hard. Libido driven. Aggressively with the intent to make her know how badly I want to fuck her. But right now, I kiss her softly. With tenderness and longing. 

 Kissing Y/N will always give me that burn I crave whenever I need to clear my mind. 

 I sound sappy as shit, I know.

 Only for her. 

 “Text me when you made it safe. Alright?” I repeated.

 “Alright,” she answers softly with a tiny smile. 

 I give her a quick kiss on the temple and tap her ass. She shoots me a playful glare that makes me chuckle.  

 Been doing a lot of that ever since I met Y/N. 

 The only fear in my soul is to lose Megumi because he’s all I have left. But these feelings that’s been brewing in my gut about Y/N these past six weeks are scaring the living shit out of me. 

 I was convinced I couldn’t feel this way anymore, that all my ounce of decency and love I had was buried with my wife. Yet here I am, liking another woman. Probably fucking more than that. 

 And I can’t keep saying I don’t know Y/N.

 Because I do know her.

 Just don’t know from where.

PREVIOUS CHAPTER | NEXT CHAPTER

things are finally starting to pick up. i hope you guys are still with me. thank you for reading. i would love to hear your thoughts. (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶) ♡

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Mr Big - An Angel Reyes/Reader One Shot Story.

So that gif yesterday on the drabble I did prompted this filth. Enjoy, besties! 

Words - 1,854

Warnings - Smut below the cut, minors DNI!

“I’m curious, Angel.”

“Yeah? What about?”

“About that big dick swagger of yours. I’m wondering just how big it is, because if it measures up with the rest of you then damn, I bet you’d give me a hell of a good time.”  

It was the above exchange that had him laughing, almost bashful for a moment, and definitely taken aback at a woman matching him for being forward. You had game in shades, and he appreciated that.  

It was also what led to the words that suddenly upped the ante in your not so subtle flirting. “Then why don’t you take me home and find out?”  

You agreed. Of course, you did. Would Mr Big match up? Well, at 6ft 3, with his back and chest as wide as a highway, and arms like tree trunks, you certainly hoped so. 

After a short bike ride to your place, the mid-afternoon sun warming your skin, you arrive at your home, Angel on you even before you’re through the front door.  

“God damnit, I want you so badly,” he tells you between kisses, making short work of your clothes, his hands stroking blazing paths of heat over you. “I nearly pulled over three times to fuck you right there at the side of the highway against my bike. Fucking devil woman.”  

“I so wouldn’t have stopped you.” It’s a frenzy of feverish kisses, panting in exertion as he strips you naked, your trembling hands unbuttoning his shirt as he lets his kutte fall to the floor, the shirt following, the heat of his skin a decadent blaze against yours as your hands travel over him. He feels even better than he looks, your tongue running up his chest as your hands squeeze his broad back.

Sitting down on the blanket box at the foot of your bed, you scatter open-mouthed kisses full of hunger over his abs, your tongue wetting the line of dark hair leading down from his navel, unfastening his belt. You are greedy in your pursuit of revealing what thickens beneath the jeans you grasp at next, your mouth salivating, aching to pry it loose and swallow it down. What greets you, though, when a combined effort between you has rendered him naked, well...

“Jesus fucking Christ.”  

Angel snorts softly with laughter at both your words and the look of shock upon your face. “Yeah, that’s the standard reaction.” Your Mr Big is more like Mr Absolutely Fucking Massive. He’s just about to ask if you need a minute when you wrap a hand around his thick shaft, bringing your mouth to the tip, kissing just once, your tongue circling slowly, dragging a rumble from him that is sharp-edged.  

Taking him back, you feel him twitch in your mouth, your fingers stroking over his abs, your jaw strained with the effort, his hands soft in your hair, thumbs stroking your cheekbones. The muscles tighten beneath your fingertips, his breath hitching in his throat as the wet drag of your mouth has heat misting through him.  

A few more passes over him with your mouth has him shaking, his groans all smoke and rasp, his hands tightening in your hair, pulling back from you. “I don’t want you to, but you gotta stop, or I’ll blow my load. Fuck, that pretty mouth is too good.” His dark eyes pool with waves of lust as he lays you back on the bed, your mouth placing kisses across his wide chest, a flick of your tongue and a bite to his nipple making him moan, big hands smoothing down your thighs, his lips meeting your neck.

Oh, his weight on top of you. God, you never thought something as simple as being pressed beneath him would feel quite that good. “Fuck, these tits,” he breathes, propping himself up on his forearm, using his other hand to stroke you. “Fucking beautiful.” His head drops, his mouth covering your nipples in the wet suck of his mouth in turn, tongue circling each bud, the briefest hint of teeth jolting you with a quiver, his lips returning to yours, your kisses all syrupy sin, the feel of his cock skimming against your folds causing you to whimper.  

“Damn, baby,” he breathes, kissing your neck, his hands running through your hair and down your arms, stoking you with pure glittering ecstasy as he shifts his hips, the tip of his hardness meeting your dewy entrance. “You got no idea how much I wanna just push right up inside you, feel that hot little pussy gripping on me, shit.” He begins kissing down your body, tongue swiping over your sternum, hands pressing your thighs wider apart. “I gotta wreck you with my tongue first, though.”  

He descends between your legs, the smell of your womanhood intoxicating to him, any little acts of tease he might’ve inflicted soon abandoned, especially after swiping his thumb through your folds, spreading the little gathering of slick as he brings his mouth to them, tongue pressing firmly, gliding in a long, slow lick. “Fuck me, mamas. You taste beautiful.” His praise, followed by another sumptuously thorough swipe of his tongue has tingles glimmering through you, the pleasure so gorgeously thorough, you feel like if this is just the start of it, your brain might be short-circuiting by the time he’s done.  

The drag of his tongue in repeated licks over your clit has you sparking, your fingers tangling in his silky black hair, little cries filling the air, the filthy indulgence bestowed on you causing lightning to flicker at the base of your spine. His mouth is all relentless hunger, sucking on you, stroking your folds before pushing two fingers inside of you, circles of purely sinful heat laved over your clit, his fingertips seeking out every last nerve ending within you, stroking slowly, rubbing utter bliss as he smiles against you, your wail feral and coarse.  

“Fuck, baby. This pretty little pussy is getting so wet. Mmmm, I can’t wait to feel you cum all over my tongue.” he groans, sucking you hard, the tip of his tongue beating over your clit at speed, your legs shaking violently as you pant breathlessly. The intensity burns down to your very bones, heat skittering through your veins, until it’s blooming wildly, all the colours of summer bursting behind your closed eyelids.  

He grants no clemency from the hypnotic beat of his tongue over your bud in the wake of your undoing, tasting your hot, pink folds with swirls and flickers as you gush onto his lips, his beard wet with your nectar as he sucks a mouthful of your cunt, your hands tight in his hair as you feel the coil within you tightening again.  

Needing you, he emerges, your belly kissed by wettened lips before his mouth is on yours, his cock bumping against you in his blinding need to join you, grunting with light annoyance at the miss. Frustration and want flashes his eyes, his teeth prickling your nipple as you raise your hips to him, facilitating his body to align perfectly with yours, your muscles bouncing with lustful quakes as with one fluid push, he’s within you, parting your heat, and god... he feels more incredible than you ever imagined he would.    

You’re skewered on him, feeling boneless against him as his mouth buries at your neck. The pressure and power of him within is like taking an entire storm inside you, his hips rutting eagerly as he reaches your summit, bottoming out and dragging back, your cunt hugging him greedily in desperation for him to do it again, fill you wantonly and make you whole.  

Stars explode through your groin, a knife edge of pleasure ripping through you, your hands stroking his face as he continues to kiss you, all fire, sin and honey, cusses tumbling from his lips as your soaking core grips around him. You hang onto him as he spears you so deep your stomach shudders, legs and arms clinging on around his bulk as he begins to quicken, his mouth back on yours as his fingers graze your scalp and comb through your hair.  

The feel of him rutting against you, dragging wetness from your cunt with every thrust, your dew bathing his cock entirely, you finally slacken and relax, moving fluidly against him as you pant against his shoulder, his mouth finding yours and stealing hot kisses from your lips.  

He is tight and heavy within you, imposing and unimaginable in size and prowess, the power and rhythm of his fuck making you dizzy and drunk on him, his big hands grasping your face as your tongues entwine, his teeth then grazing your lower lip.

A grumbled groan wells in his throat, hips jerking and sending him deeper, your walls clenching around him instinctively, a whimper fluttering over your lips as he drags sparks through you, pleasure taking root and coiling around the base of your spine like a vine about to ascend. You thought taking such a huge cock would be painful, but god, how thoroughly he prepared you to be split so wide, breeched so deep, and fuck, how he knows exactly how to evoke absolutely nothing but the burning sparks of utter bliss.

He begins to pound into you with unhinged vigour and boundless determination, syrupy bliss stirred in your loins, your hands running down his wide, tattooed back and delighting in the feel of every rise and fall of his chiselled, bulky muscles, drinking him in, savouring how fucking perfect the moment is, how no one has ever felt better inside you than him.  

His voracious dominance overwhelms you entirely, your body once again tensing around him as you chase your release, wanting to drag the same from him into you, your bodies colliding wildly as you pant and groan like animals in heat, everything frenzied and fervid.  

You’re away from yourself, floating adrift, lost in the mist until his thunder brings you home, is your anchor pulling your back, the lightning shooting your spine awakening you into full bloom around him, an almost wounded cry leaving your open mouth as your nails claw his shoulders and rake his back. His uncontained hips piston his crest, his cock spurting into you deep, so deep with every wave of release he groans through, thick and hot, like what he leaves of himself within your pulsing walls, utterly spent.  

He moves gently in the wake of all that was urgent and barbarous, his cock twitching within your heat before he becomes still, gazing down at you as your breathing steadies, eyes so bright it’s as if stars fell into his blown pupils. He lays his forehead to yours, fingertips trailing your cheeks, sweaty and breathless.  

“So, I live up to my swagger, right?” Of course, he’d ask that. Of course, he would.  

You smile, kissing him, gently nibbling his lower lip. “Hmm, maybe show me again, just so I can be sure?”

He shrugs lightly, fingertips tracing beads of sweat upon your clavicles, leaning to kiss your throat a couple of times. “Seems only fair.”  

[arsgrouponline]

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[soldateins]

"Don't Touch My Lute."

Jaskier x Female Reader Fluff Oneshot

Summary: Y/n has only been traveling with Geralt and Jaskier for a short while, but she and Jaskier have known one another months before that. Being a bard herself, Y/n knows of Jaskier and just how utterly brilliant he is. She has even seen him perform a few times in Novigrad at the Chameleon - though he had never seen her perform, only rumours. This knowledge causes her to feel anxious and refuse continuously when he asks her to play for them every few nights to truly hear her talent. What happens when one night, Jaskier leaves to wash up in the river, and Y/n decides to pick up his lute and sing but he returns before she finishes playing and hears her?

Notes:

A/N: I never write, I’ve written 2 fics total and I’m not amazing so.. Help is cool but don’t bash me plz, this ain’t my job and I only do it for plain old fun, cool? Hope you enjoy!! Ps I’m in love with both Jaskier and Geralt I need helppppp

“Would you both fancy making our way to an inn once we’ve washed up?”

Jaskier asked Geralt and Y/n as they walked along the dirt path in the direction of the nearest river. Geralt’s brows furrowed slightly as he directed Roach’s reins in the right direction, thinking. Y/n’s walk turned into a skip, a smile now plastered across her lips, “Uhh, yes, please! We’ve not eaten a proper supper in 3 days! I’ll even provide the coin!” Jaskier gasped, pressing his palm against his intricately detailed doublet, “No, no, my Lady Y/n - I shall pay!” He bowed. Geralt rolled his eyes, exhaling through his nose, “Always the hero.” He murmured to himself as he watched the bard catch up to the skipping woman.

They found a clearing where they began to set down all of their belongings. Jaskier and Geralt each sat on their own bedrolls whilst Y/n placed herself on the floor, leaning against a rock. After a while of watching the bard write poems in his notebook, she tilted her head and softly inquired, “Might I play your lute, Jaskier? I’ve not touched one in almost two months, I left mine in Novigrad..” Her eyes glistened in the evening glow and she crossed her legs. Jaskier hummed for a long time, looking into her blue eyes, before settling on, “Yes, as long as you sing to us.” His pink lips dipped into a smirk and he shot a quick look towards Geralt to gauge his reaction. Despite not looking up, his eyes and eyebrows gave away that he was interested. Y/N’s nose wrinkled up, “No, thank you.” Geralt’s left eyebrow rose and he looked up from writing an entry about Forktails into his bestiary, “You sing?” Y/n took a deep breath and shifted from side to side. Jaskier rose from his bedroll, slapped his thighs, bent forward slightly and raised his eyebrows at Y/n, “Yes, she does - However, I have not yet heard her despite being told brilliant things of the Angelic Y/n of Novigrad!”

“You’ve seen me perform before!” Y/n huffed, folding her arms and leaning back against the rock. Jaskier’s face contorted in amusement and his voice came out somewhat petty, “Through a window. I couldn’t hear you.” Y/n grumbled, “Bet you could.” Jaskier picked up his lute and held it out right in front of Y/n’s face, the shiny wood almost tapping the tip of her nose, “Come on, just once!” “No!” Y/n spat, “Why?”, Jaskier put the lute back, the vibration of its strings due to impact causing an ugly chord.

“Can you not just go and wash up now, Jaskier?! I’ve no need to give you a reason!” Y/n raised her voice slightly, her heart slowly making its way into her throat. Jaskier pursed his lips, thinking of how to respond, lifted his finger into the air, gritted his teeth, dropped his arm, and turned back to his belongings with an exasperated sigh.

Y/n pulled an apple from her knapsack, taking a big bite. Jaskier began unpacking his linen towel along with a wooden hairbrush and some other things, “Right, I’m having a wash in the river, no touching my lute, Y/n. Not unless you want to initiate an impromptu performance?” His icy blue eyes narrowed and he flashed a toothy smile, targeting Y/N’s and her chewing slowed. She sighed and spoke with a full mouth, spitting slightly at Jaskier, “No, bard.” Jaskier’s eyes widened in disgust, “That makes one of us. Someone’s touchy tonight..” He spoke in a hushed tone as he walked off towards the river. Geralt smirked but kept quiet, enjoying the dynamic between the two.

Geralt sat silently with his right leg bent at the knee and his arm resting on it, sketching. Y/n shook her head, groaned, got up and made her way over to Geralt, sitting down next to him to watch him fill his bestiary in peace as they did most nights, “What is that thing? Ff-fog-let? Wh- what’s one of those?” She leaned over his left side to get a better look at his sketch, brushing shoulders. Usually, Geralt would slowly lean away, but he liked Y/n. Maybe even had a soft spot for her. They’d gotten as close as a lady bard and witcher could have after only knowing one another for eight months - and Jaskier wasn’t much of a fan of that at the moment. “Why don’t you want to sing if you’re known for performing so well?” He frowned, tilting his head to look her in the eye,

“Because Geralt, have you heard Jaskier sing? I don’t want to sing to him. He’s too good, I’m just okay.” She spoke with a slight angry heat, perhaps towards herself, blinking a few times, and diverting her eyes away from Geralt’s piercing ones by looking elsewhere on his face, taking in his strong features, especially when he is pulling a face such as that, “Yet you always jest about your brilliant skill?”

“Yes but.. That’s just for fun, I’d die if Jaskier heard me. He’d..” She paused, debating whether to continue, flickering her gaze up to Geralt’s, “He’d?” Geralt asked, raising his brows, “He’d.. He’d hate it, he’d go off me. I’d rather let him hear the reviews and not dare let him hear it himself. He’s legendary, I can’t compare myself to him! He’d laugh and I’d be broken. Or he’d lie and say I was good to please me. Especially now.” Geralt hummed, leaning back a bit. Something had begun that nobody could stop. Y/N had fallen for Jaskier. Geralt decided that the best option for this moment was to leave. He arose, unpacking his towel, gave Y/n an unsure but calm expression, and left for the river.

Y/n was left ruminating in her own self-loathing and confusion. She got up, set her bedroll onto the floor and lay down, away from Jaskier’s, nearest to Roach as she enjoyed her company. “Oh, fuck it.” She quickly got up, snatched Jaskier’s lute from his belongings, positioning herself on her bedroll, cross-legged, facing out into the forest. She started to play, first quietly, and once she knew she wasn’t heard, a bit louder.

A few minutes later, as Jaskier and Geralt made their way back from the river, they started to hear music, “What- What is that? Geralt?” Jaskier spun around a few times as he tried to discern where it was coming from. Geralt’s lower eyelids rose in amusement. Jaskier took in an overly dramatic breath, “She. Took. My LUTE!” He spat possessively and began to take off before Geralt lunged forward, wrapping his big hand around Jaskier’s left arm and yanking him backward, earning a squeak from the bard, “Jaskier.” He growled, “What? It’s mine! She wouldn’t play anyw-!”

“Listen.”

They became quiet, inching closer to the sound until they could finally hear clearly. After a few moments, Jaskier’s mouth opened in awe. They made their way closer to the clearing to listen. Geralt watched Jaskier, he was leaning his head and hand against a tree, patiently listening, with the most genuine loving expression he had seen on the bard yet.

“She’s ethereal, isn’t she? I knew she was good.” Jaskier’s mouth was hardly moving as he whispered, trying to make as little sound as possible so that he could listen, “Why would she keep such beauty from me?”

“She’s scared.” Geralt said under his breath, “She’s.. She’s what? She’s scared?” Jaskier’s brows furrowed in confusion, “She doesn’t want to perform in front of you because she doesn’t believe that she’s good enough. She said you’d laugh.” Geralt shrugged and shook his head, “I can’t believe it.” Jaskier’s eyes were staring at the forest floor, melancholic but still heavy with emotion. Y/n smiled, gently setting the lute down, “Is that where he left it, Roach? I think that’s where he left it. I hope so. I don’t want to be singing to him any time soon.”

Jaskier crept his way out from within the trees, “You just did.” He gave a friendly smile and a pathetically nervous wave of his hand. Y/n sucked in a big breath, “Jaskier..?” Her eyes were wide and piercing as if she were a child being caught carving into the house walls by her parent, “I listened, Lady Y/n. You have a beautiful voice.” Jaskier swallowed anxiously, approaching as if she were a wild rabbit about to flee, which she was, “No. You don’t mean that.” Y/n got up, retrieving her towel from her bag, clutching it to her chest, trying to steady her breath, “I’m sorry for using your lute, Jask. I- I just wanted to play, I’ve missed it.” Geralt made his way out from within the trees, “Calm down, Y/n.” His voice was soft yet stern, “I can’t, Geralt. Sorry, Jaskier..” “Please, don’t apologise, that was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard!” Jaskier’s voice got louder the further away Y/N got as she panicked and ran to the river, Jaskier’s eyes followed her then made their way to Geralt, brows furrowing heavily, “Are you going to tell me what just bloody happened? I was being nice! To a bard! And I meant it!” He raised his shoulders and eyebrows in sync. Geralt's eyelids lowered, his face muscles relaxing, “Surprising.” Geralt sat back down on his bedroll, folding his arms and looking at the stars. However, when he glanced over, Jaskier was looking at him expectantly, “What?” Geralt asked lazily, “What do you mean ‘what’? Tell me what’s wrong with Y/n?”

“Fine.”

Y/n exhaled heavily as she entered the water to bathe. The cool water helping her anxious feelings towards Jaskier, “Gods, I shouldn’t have touched his lute at all. Fuck. What if his feelings change?” She sat, speaking to the trees, a light breeze falling over her frame along with the moonlight, and the hairs on her skin pricking upwards. After what seemed like an hour, she plucked up the courage to get dry and dressed and return to their miniature camp. Entering the clearing with a big breath, the first thing she laid her now tired eyes upon was Geralt meditating. She smiled, wishing she had the mental power to sit in silence for that long. Looking to the right she saw Jaskier.. Fast asleep. Snoring. Incredibly loudly. Her chest felt heavy and loving as she stood watching him sleep. Turning towards her own bedroll, suddenly feeling tired, she took in a soft gasp. Jaskier’s lute was resting on her pillow with a handwritten note with many words scribbled onto it but the ones most notable were “I did mean it. You can play my lute anytime, beautiful lady Y/n.” Y/N sighed, smiled widely and that night, slept with Jaskier’s lute by her side.

[sweetsweetscycle]

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Step into the electrifying arena of KheloStar Big Bash League 2023-24, where the Sydney Thunder and Perth Scorchers ignite the cricketing stage with their fierce rivalry. Explore the T20 cricketing extravaganza with our in-depth blog, covering player analyses, match previews, and post-game insights. Navigate the world of online betting with expert tips and stay ahead in the game. Join us on this journey through the KheloStar Big Bash League, as Sydney Thunder and Perth Scorchers battle for supremacy, showcasing cricketing brilliance and creating moments that will be etched in the annals of T20 history.

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[usasportsworld]

Big Bash League (BBL12): Thunder vs Strikers Betting Tips

Big Bash League (BBL12): Thunder vs Strikers Betting Tips

Game two of the Friday BBL12 double header sees the Sydney Thunder looking to go 2-0 when they host the Adelaide Strikers. Both sides tasted victory in their opening games, who will remain undefeated after Friday night? Jack Tobin is back on deck with his preview for Thunder vs Strikers, and be sure to check out BeforeYouBet’s BBL Betting Tips for tips on every game this season.   BBL12 Thunder…