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icarusflewsworld · 3 days ago

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Rhysand & Cassian & Azriel X OC

Hello, here is the chapter 19 of a fanfiction on the world of Acotar where our three favorite Batboys are the mates of a single woman.

I hope you enjoyed reading and had a good time!!!

Since it's Christmas next week, the next chapter or maybe the next chapters will be posted in a week. On Friday, December 27th.

So I wish you an excellent day and a good weekend. But above all I wish you a very very very merry Christmas with lots and beautiful presents under the your Christmas tree. I hope you are happy. With all my love, ❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹

! Don't forget to read the other chapters ! : Here

Enjoy the read ! ❤️❤️❤️

Chapter 19

Azriel's leg bounced nervously up and down and his fists were clenched on his thighs. Despite the fact that he was sitting on the living-room sofa, his back was straight, contracted all over. He stared at his lord in awe, "You're not seriously considering this, Rhys?" He'd thought he was hallucinating when his brother had offered to take Luxiana to the Weaver to retrieve her mother's ring. He'd thought he was hallucinating when his brother had proposed taking his little, smiling, sunny, weak and fragile mate to steal from a creature as powerful, crazy, cruel and dangerous as the Weaver. "It's far too dangerous! She's only human!"

Rhysand sighed again. He had crossed his arms. He was trying to stand up straight and look confident as his two brothers stared at him in horror. "Precisely, as she has no magic, the Weaver won't feel her. She'll just have to be as quiet as possible." He'd given it a lot of thought last night. His mother had left his engagement ring with the Weaver for several reasons: so that he wouldn't misuse it, and to make sure that the woman he wanted to marry was strong enough. His mother had explained to him that becoming the wife of a high lord was dangerous, and that the person he wished to marry would have to be at least cunning and courageous enough to steal his ring from the Weaver. Even so, he couldn't quell the huge ball of anguish clenching his stomach violently. He knew Azriel was right. It was so dangerous and he was so afraid for his mate.

"And if she detects her, what are we going to do, eh, Rhys?" spat Azriel, rising from the sofa abruptly. He could feel that his eyes were wide open and he could well imagine them injecting with blood. He wanted to make his brother eat the floor. How could he contemplate putting their soul mate in such danger over a stupid ring? He held back from staring at his lord with a grimace of disgust. He didn't deserve Luxiana.

Cassian was on the other sofa. He had his neck bent back and a thinking gaze on the ceiling. He was thinking. His two brothers were right. He didn't like knowing his mate was in danger, but he knew Rhysand's mother would have wanted Luxiana to be able to get through this. Especially when she was linked to the three of them. He wanted so much to respect the woman who had saved him from cold and starvation, but at the same time, he was terrified that his cute little human would end up hurt. Or worse. But he also knew she was resourceful and could survive. In any case, he wouldn't let anything happen to her, even if he had to die under the power of the weaver, he'd get his future wife to safety first. "Then we'll go get her and protect her," he asserted to Az, straightening his head to stare at the Illyrian with the blue siphons.

Azriel turned towards Cassian to widen his eyes. "Because you're okay with this???" he shouted through clenched teeth. He felt like he'd been plunged into water so cold he couldn't breathe. He was tetanized by the hatred he felt for his brothers.

"Cass is right, there's no reason for her to get hurt, we'll prevent that from happening," Rhysand added in a calm voice he didn't even know how he managed to have, while inside he was as anxious and trembling as Azriel.

"What if we don't make it in time??" The spy master gesticulated in all directions. "Need I to remind you who the Weaver is? She's considered a goddess because she's so powerful! Far more powerful than the three of us put together, Rhys. She's protected by laws and a high lord isn't allowed near her. Whatever happens, it will only get us into trouble. And I don't want any of that trouble to be my soul mate being injured!"

Rhysand let all his air go as he dropped onto one of the sofas. He knew he'd break every law to keep his soulmate from getting hurt, and that he'd take the consequences without flinching. But he also knew that Azriel was not wrong and that many things could go wrong. He rested his elbows on his knees and buried his face in his hands. He stayed like that for a moment, hating himself with every fiber of his being. He hated himself. He'd never get over it if Luxiana was hurt because of him. The Weaver was so powerful that anything could happen to Luxiana before he could reach her and teleport her away. But at the same time, all Luxiana had to do was to go in, steal the ring and come out all silent. The Weaver was blind, she wouldn't even know she was there.

He dropped his forearms to his thighs to stare at Azriel with a worried but sad look on his face. "I believe in fate and I'm convinced that my mother knew what she was doing. I'm convinced that she subconsciously knew that the three of us would share the same soul mate and that's why she adopted you. I'm convinced she suspected that our soul mate would be able to get that ring back. She wouldn't have left it there otherwise."

"Rhys, do you hear yourself?" shouted Azriel, flabbergasted. "Your mother wasn't a prophet! You want to risk our soulmate’s life for a stupid ring!"

Rhysand gritted his teeth and lowered his eyes.

Cassian leapt to his feet, anger pulsing through his veins all at once. "Be careful how you talk. She saved us. We owe her respect. And anyway, I told you, I wouldn't let our mate die."

Azriel glared at him. How dare he think he didn't respect Rhys's mother when he considered her his own. But he could believe whatever he wanted. The important thing now was his Luxiana. "What if she's hurt? Can you imagine her in pain? Can you bear the thought of her suffering, even for a second? I can't. I can't! It would destroy me to know she's in pain, even if it's just a scratch! And you too, for God's sake. Even ignoring the fact that she's our soul mate, we're Illyrians, it's in our fucking genes. It would kill us to see her hurt!" He grunted, trying to calm himself but failing. He turned to his lord to speak more calmly. "Rhys, you know I loved your mother, but there's no way she could have known our soul mate was human and fragile. She certainly wouldn't have left that ring there otherwise."

A heavy silence settled over them, pressing down on their chests. Azriel couldn't breathe, but he didn't even realize it, too absorbed in killing his two brothers with his eyes. Cassian looked doubtfully between Rhysand and Azriel. They were both right, and he was lost. He didn't know what to do or think. Rhysand was staring into space. He felt so bad. So guilty for having suggested this. He'd never get over it if Luxiana was hurt because of him.

"Maybe we're getting in over our heads," Cassian finally says, forcing his two brothers to turn questioning irises on him. "Let's just tell her the idea and the risks and leave it at that. It's her choice, after all."

Azriel rolled his eyes in exasperation. "Haven't you figured out who she is yet? I mean, she's bound to want to. She doesn't seem to give a damn about putting her life in danger. It's up to us to stop her, but you don't seem to have figured that out yet."

Rhysand cleared his throat so as not to look as bad as he felt. "Maybe, but anyway, if we don't keep her busy, she's going to want us to go and get the book of breathing so she can get back to Feyre as soon as possible. At least this way, we keep her with us a little longer."

Azriel closed his eyes fiercely, his nostrils swelling. He couldn't believe his ears. None of them deserved Luxiana. And worst of all, he didn't stand a chance against them. They were two against him.

"Let's go wake her up and talk to her about it," Cassian breathed as he rose to his feet. "We'll see what happens and what she says."

Rhysand nodded, stood up and set off. Azriel reluctantly followed his two brothers. They walked in a heavy silence. Azriel gritted his teeth so hard his skull ached. His gait was stiff. Rhysand walked swiftly with an air of determination, but it was mainly to get there as quickly as possible before ducking out. He felt like throwing up. Cassian could feel a mixture of similar emotions running through his veins. He felt everything his brothers felt. He was lost. He moved forward with folded arms.

They arrived in front of Luxiana's room. Rhysand's almost trembling hand rose to knock on the door, and they waited there, restraining themselves from running away. The door opened slowly, revealing their soul mate. And when they discovered her - in a white silk nightie reaching halfway up her thighs, with what seemed to be the remains of a bun around her tangled hair that went in all directions, with a face marked by the folds of the sheets as she looked at them with half-closed eyes - nothing else mattered. Nothing else mattered to the three Illyrians but her.

"Hum?" she groaned, squinting a little more. She glanced at the morning sunlight seeping through her bay window before shifting her pupils to the three Illyrians. What time was it? What were they doing there? God, they were so sexy. She wasn't used to this kind of vision as soon as she woke up, but she liked the idea. She rubbed both eyelids with her fists. She rested her irises on the three Illyrians in front of her, whom she suddenly found abnormally white. "Is everything all right? What's going on?" She cleared her throat, but her voice was still raspy.

Cassian couldn't help but laugh tenderly, almost mockingly, as he detailed her. Her pupils sparkled so brightly he could feel them. He stared down at her hungrily. She was so sexy like that. The desire awakening inside him heated him up completely. God, he wanted to kiss every inch of her legs.

Fireworks exploded in Azriel's chest, spreading through his whole body to tickle him. His arm muscles burned, he wanted to hug her. His fingers stung, he wanted to touch her. He moistened his dry lips, he wanted to kiss her. How could anyone be so cute? His soul mate was the sweetest woman who'd ever walked this earth. There was no way he was going to let Rhysand put her in danger.

Rhysand's heart missed a long beat. A very long one. So long that he felt like falling, forcing him to take a step back to catch himself. He wanted to see this every morning. He just wanted to spend his life with this woman. His whole life. But she was only human. It would be so short. He had to preserve her to keep her alive as long as possible. Anyway, he couldn't even imagine hurting her. "Nothing," he finally breathed, smiling.

Cassian and Azriel turned a shocked, questioning gaze towards him. Rhysand took another step backwards, paying no attention to his brothers. "Nothing at all," he added in the same way. He took a deep breath, relieved. It was safer this way. "Sorry to have bothered you." Unable to restrain himself, he raised his hand to gently caress the angle of his soulmate's jaw with his fingertips. It had only lasted a second before his arm fell back, but he'd been electrocuted through and through. He took another step backwards.

"But Rhys...," Cassian began in their heads with total incomprehension and glancing at Azriel who was in the same state.

"Az was right, I'm an asshole," he replied telepathically. "How could I even think for a second about putting our soul mate in danger. Look at her. It's out of the question. I don't want to risk it," he turned to start walking away from the room. He cursed himself. How could he have considered taking such a risk?

Azriel took a deep breath as he closed his eyes. His brother had come to his senses. He wasn't so bad after all. He returned his gaze to Luxiana, who detailed them with a curious, tilted head. He smiled tenderly. She was so adorable. "Go back to bed." He reached for the handle to close the door, but Luxiana shook her head at the sight of him.

She slipped through the room's narrowing opening to chase Rhys, grabbing him by the sleeve of his black jacket. The lord stopped abruptly to turn back to her with wide-open eyelids. "Why are you here?" the blonde insisted.

Rhysand took a breath to speak, but Luxiana interrupted him by crossing her arms with a stern look. "And don't tell me it's nothing. There's got to be a reason." She suspected he hadn't just come to wake her up, he would have told her otherwise. No, something had happened and she was determined to find out what.

Cassian leaned against the wall beside him, quietly watching the scene unfold before him. He smiled, knowing that Luxiana was about to martyr his two brothers.

Rhysand looked at her tenderly, he couldn't help it. She was so stubborn and reckless. He couldn't lie to her and anyway, he had no other explanation coming to him. "We...," he searched for his words as he lowered his eyes, feeling ashamed. "I wanted to take you somewhere but it's too dangerous after all. I've changed my mind."

Luxiana frowned so hard that it distorted her whole face. She squinted. "Go where?" Then she smirked, "if it's dangerous, I'm in!"

Azriel looked up at the ceiling before casting a reproving look at his soulmate. "Of course," he growled. "That's why we're not going. You're too reckless."

"It doesn't matter anymore, anyway," Rhysand added, shaking his hand toward his brother. "We're not going, that's decided."

Luxiana made a disappointed, whimsical pout. "If you don't want to go because I'd be in danger, don't you think that's for me to decide?"

"That's exactly what I said," Cassian smiled proudly.

"Owwwn," moaned the blonde, turning to Cassian with a tender look on her face. "I knew it, you're the cutest of the three."

Cassian smiled with all his teeth as he puffed out his chest, but Azriel and Rhysand glowered at him.

Luxiana turned back to Rhysand with determination and a little anger. At least, that's what she was trying to let on, because she wasn't really angry. She thought all three of them were cute. "Besides, I don't see why you're worried about me. It can't be that dangerous."

"It is," Azriel articulated, crossing his arms.

"That's for me to decide," she glanced sideways at the master spy before refocusing on the lord. "Where did you want to take me?"

Rhysand, unsure of what to do, glanced at Cassian, who nodded in encouragement, then set his pupils on Azriel, who shook his head from left to right to dissuade him. The lord huffed. “We wanted to take you to see a creature called the Weaver. She's a fae who.... "

"Oh Stryga!?" she exclaimed, interrupting him with a big smile. "Yes, I know," she nodded, waving her hand in the air to urge Rhysand to abbreviate his explanation and resume.

The three Illyrians frowned, casting confused glances at each other. "What do you mean you know?" asked Azriel, staring at her from the side. Cassian straightened up to walk over to Rhysand and get a good look at his soulmate's face.

Luxiana looked up, opening her mouth several times in search of her words. She held back a grimace. She had spoken too fast again, without even thinking about what she was saying. She needed to collect herself now. "I read a lot of books," she shrugged, throwing the shadowsinger a smile, it wasn't a lie after all. "Stryga is the super-powered fae from another dimension exiled to the forest hundreds of years ago, blah, blah, blah, I know my stuff. So what did you want me to do? You wanted me to kill her?"

The three Illyrians raised their eyebrows in surprise, blinking several times at this unexpected statement. But although they found it strange, they didn't suspect it was a lie. In any case, there was no way she could have known the Weaver otherwise.

Cassian blew out a laugh at the last words of his soul mate, who had the most serious face possible. "No, no, I doubt it's even possible to kill her, and even less by you."

"Oh well, I'm pretty sure I can," she asserted in all seriousness, nodding several times.

Azriel caught the bridge of his nose and sighed. Damn it, if she really knew who the Weaver was, how could she think she could kill her? She was so naive.

Rhysand looked at her tenderly. He smiled, shaking his head. "No, we wanted you to go steal something from her."

Luxiana darkened her brows, "Steal what? Why me?" Then she widened her eyes after a moment's thought. "This is some kind of test before summer court to make sure I'll be able to steal the book, right???"

Rhysand let out a little laugh with Cassian. He nodded, trying to hide the mocking glint in his pupils. "That's right, but...," resumed the lord before being interrupted by Luxiana.

"Hihi," she said, shaking both her clenched fists in front of her. She turned in one swift motion, gliding gracefully across the floor as she started to make a dash for her room. "I'm going to get ready."

Azriel had the reflex to catch her by the forearm before she entered her room. His soul mate turned to him to find out what he wanted. "We said no, we're not going. It's much too dangerous for you."

Luxiana turned to glare at the master spy. She crossed her arms. "But if I'm the one who'll be in danger, then that's my decision."

"No, precisely, it's not your decision, since you're not capable of making a reasonable one," Azriel spat dryly. Then he closed his eyes for a second, cursing himself for his tone and words, but Luxiana wasn't even a little intimidated or hurt.

She shrugged with a doubtful grimace. "She's old and blind, certainly no threat to me."

Azriel thought she was so cute, he could have smiled if he hadn't been so worried.

Luxiana anchored pupils glowing with supplication in those of the three Illyrians in turn. "Listen, I just want to prove to you that I can do it. Because I can. Trust me."

Rhysand's heart slammed against his ribs. He couldn't resist his mate’s adorable face. And he didn't want to hurt her when he trusted her. He took a deep breath. "Are you sure about this?" he asked her, because he wasn't sure at all.

"Yes," she assured serenely. "It's my decision, not yours."

"No," Azriel screamed in horror, turning to his brother. "The Weaver could disintegrate her just thinking about it."

Cassian huffed, rolling his eyes. He was worried too, but his brother was abusing them. They were going to protect her and their mate was smart. She wasn't a child. "Stryga won't do it, she has a habit of slowly killing people who infiltrate her home."

"Is that supposed to reassure me?" gasped Azriel with wide eyes. He was almost trembling with fear. He felt like he was going mad. Was he the only reasonable one here?

"She won't be hurt. We'll intervene first," Cassian assured, taking a threatening step towards Azriel, who was beginning to irritate him.

Rhysand breathed imperceptibly before stepping between his two brothers and breaking the distance between himself and his soul mate. He placed his hands on Luxiana's cheeks to cling to her face. He slowly drew his head closer to hers, while she merely looked at him with affectionate eyes and a reassuring smile. He swallowed hard. How could anyone look at someone who approached them like that? She was so sweet.

Luxiana's heart pounded violently in her chest. The high lord approaching her was having quite an effect on her, and when he'd placed his hands on her cheeks, her whole body had begun to tickle. She did everything she could to keep smiling and not look as upset as she was.

Rhysand stopped only inches from his soulmate's lips, zoning in on them for a moment before plunging an intense gaze into the blonde's. "Are you sure you want to do this?" He lowered his eyes for a second. "To tell you the truth, it's an important object for me that you'll have to get back, but if you don't want it, we won't go. You're much more important. If you're feeling even the slightest bit of stress, or any other disturbing emotion, we'll stay here. You don't have to prove anything to us anyway."

"Rhys, I'm not afraid," she assured comfortingly.

But Rhysand's heart had trembled. She'd called him by his nickname. Could he really risk putting her in such danger? What if something unexpected happened? What if something went wrong? It wasn't worth the risk.

Luxiana, almost able to read Rhysand's hesitation in his eyes, let out a small cry of frustration. "There's no point thinking about it any more. Now that I know all this, I'll go to the Weaver with or without you, even if it's years away. So either you stay here, or you come with me."

Rhysand laughed softly as he glanced at Cassian, who nodded to confirm that he suspected Luxiana would. Rhysand lowered his eyes to detail the blonde in his hands for another second. He was worried, but he suspected she'd try. She might even hurt herself trying. Or worse, she might succeed and they wouldn't even be there to defend her. He took a deep breath, then nodded in silent thanks. "She won't be able to see or smell you," he explained, suddenly regaining his seriousness.

"Fuck, Rhys," Azriel tried to interrupt, realizing that his brother was giving in. He put his hand on his lord's shoulder to get his attention, but Rhysand took no notice.

"If you're as quiet as possible, you can go in, steal the object and come out without her even knowing. She won't be able to hurt you."

"Rhys, I said no," Azriel shouted authoritatively, pushing Rhysand, who had to release Luxiana.

Cassian growled as he lashed out at his brother with his pupils. "It's her decision, Az, respect it. And if it's not then go, we'll go without you."

Azriel gave him a look so black that his irises were that color too. The three of them were against him. There was nothing he could do, and it was driving him mad. But there was no way they could go without him. He had to be able to protect his soul mate. He gritted his teeth but said nothing.

Cassian, having realized that his brother was giving up in spite of himself, turned to Luxiana with a confident, serious expression. "We'll be there in case of trouble. She won't hurt you, I'll make sure of that."

"If there's the slightest problem, we'll intervene," continued Rhysand with a reassuring face, but a ball of anguish emerged in his stomach.

Luxiana simply nodded with a broad smile. Then she happily ran to her room to get ready.

A few minutes later, while Azriel was still trying to convince his brothers not to go, and while they weren't even listening to him, Luxiana resurfaced. The three males turned to her and gasped. She was wearing black leather pants, equally dark thigh-high boots, a white shirt under a corset of the same color, and she'd pulled her hair back into a ponytail. "It's great," she raved happily. "All I have to do is ask at the house and she gives me the outfit I want, I love it!"

Cassian rolled his eyes to close them. He raised his head as he turned away from the blonde and ran his hands vigorously over his face. She looked so sexy in that outfit. He wanted to make love to her in this outfit, damn it. He was dying to jump on her, and he didn't know what kind of self-control would stop him, but he was admiring himself.

Rhysand smiled pretentiously as he detailed her with eager pupils. She immediately looked a lot less cute like this. He loved it, but he couldn't help smiling at the irony of the situation. She was so sexy when she was just cute.

Azriel paced all around them. He was so anxious that he only noticed his sister's outfit for a second before he started walking nervously again. Damn, he'd have to make her a suit of armor. She wouldn't be protected enough with this leather.

Then Rhysand finally held out his hand. "Ready?"

She caught him with a confident smile and a strange gleam of coldness in her pupils. "Ready."

Without further ado, the lord teleported them a few steps away from the Weaver's house.

Luxiana spun around, letting go of Rhys, to take in the tall trees and dense vegetation that now surrounded her. She glanced coldly at Stryga's house. The corner of her mouth lifted in a kind of spasm that the Illyrians couldn't see. Then she turned her determined gaze back to the three males in front of her, who were staring at the building with apprehension and even fear for Azriel. "What shall I steal?"

Rhysand turned his violet irises on her and was surprised for a second. She looked serious, her eyebrows slightly furrowed and her eyes cold with determination. The lord lifted his chin, smiling in a corner to give himself a haughty, confident air he didn't have at all. He didn't want to worry her, it was stress that made you make mistakes. "You will know when you see it," he replied simply.

Luxiana frowned, pulling her head back in surprise. "Probably not, no."

Azriel gritted his teeth and took a sharp breath. He glanced sideways at his brother. "Rhys, at least tell her what the object is that she has to steal, so that she spends as little time as possible in this damned shack."

Rhysand didn't even turn to him to answer and remained with his eyes planted in the blonde's. "I'm sure she'll find what she has to steal. You'll feel it."

Luxiana scrutinized him for a second with squinted eyes. Then, as she detailed him, she realized that he seemed really sure that she was going to guess what to steal. And she believed him. Anyway, it wasn't as if she was risking anything. So she nodded once and only once. "All right, I'll trust you."

Cassian took a step closer to his soul mate. He caught her chin between his thumb and forefinger to turn the blonde's head towards him and plant an authoritative gaze in hers. He was trying to calm the stress and anguish rising inside him and wanting to make him tremble. "You enter, opening the door as quietly as possible. Walk carefully, taking slow steps. Be careful not to breathe too heavily either, and above all, watch where you step. You absolutely mustn't make any noise! Don't rush," he advised with concern.

"Okay," Luxiana breathed, laughing softly with an expectant face. "You're too cute, but I swear everything's going to be fine. It'll be over in a jiffy." Then she turned to walk in the direction of the house. "I'll be right back."

But fear suddenly exploded in Rhysand, who moved on his own to hold her by the arm. She turned to him. "Are you sure? We can still go away?" he said hastily, dying of worry.

Luxiana huffed and rolled her eyes, a little wearily. If only they knew. But they couldn't suspect anything. So she smiled to comfort him. "It's my decision. I am."

Rhysand let go of her, but before she could get going again, Azriel caught her by the arm and pulled her sharply towards him. "What ag...?" Luxiana couldn't finish her sentence as Azriel turned her around to tighten the strings of her corset and wedge them inside so they wouldn't disturb her or get caught somewhere.

Azriel was scared to death. A mixture of adrenalin and terror coursed through his body, making his muscles feel like they were being torn apart. "You watch yourself and your surroundings," he warned with a cold voice. He turned her around again to face her, crouching for a second to pull a little more at the top of the blonde's boots and make sure they were secure and held in place.

Luxiana watched him with wide-open eyes, completely paralyzed. Her heart was dancing in her chest. No one had ever been so kind to her.

Azriel stood up, "If you're scared or feel something's wrong, you turn back immediately." He grabbed the wide sleeves of his soul mate’s white shirt to fold them a little dryly up to her elbows. "If something happens that we haven't felt or heard, you run. If she attacks you and we're not there, you call us, screaming at the top of your voice to warn us." Then he grabbed the back of the blonde's hand to raise it and present his palm to the sky. He grabbed Truth teller to pull it from its scabbard, twisting it between his fingers to grasp the blade and be able to slide the dagger's handle over his mate’s palm. "If she comes after you and we're not there, you shove this dagger down her throat. It won't kill her, but it'll give you some time, okay?"

Luxiana shifted her pupils between Azriel and the weapon he had just given her, her mouth half-open in astonishment. Then her cheeks flushed in realization. She blinked in search of her words, but found none. She simply nodded, closing her fingers around the handle.

Azriel grabbed her by the shoulders to shake her once and back to accentuate his words. "You really must be as quiet as possible." Luxiana wanted to speak but Azriel cut her off. "Promise me! Promise me you won't do anything inconsiderate or stupid?"

Luxiana finally pulled herself together and managed an affectionate smile. "I promise."

Azriel slowly released her against his will. He had to fight every muscle in his body not to grab her and drag her away.

The blonde stared at the three of them hesitantly and a little wearily, to make sure none of them were going to interrupt her again. But they didn't seem to have anything left to say, and only looked at her with concern. She nodded, tucked the dagger away in her boot and turned, so that at last she could leap happily towards the Weaver's house.

Azriel could feel himself trembling as his soul mate walked to her death. "I swear, if anything happens to her, even a scratch, I'll kill you," he threatened in a nasty voice.

Rhysand's heart missed beat after beat. "If anything happens to her, we'll let you.”

"Damn the ass she's got," Cassian admired with a big grin and twinkling eyes while avidly detailing his soul mate as she walked. He hadn't heard a word his two brothers had just tell. That said, he snapped out of his trance and lost his smile as he felt Azriel's murderous and Rhysand's jaded gaze. "What? We've never seen her in pants before, I profit."

They gave back their attention to Luxiana. From where they stood, between the thick forest trees and a little diagonally from the house, they could see the front door from the side. Their mate stopped in front of it.

"Come on, open it, all. slow.ly," Azriel mumbled, articulating each syllable to encourage the blonde, as if she could hear him.

But... Luxiana raised her foot, gaining momentum with her leg to crush her heel on the wood and smash the door, which opened with a wrenching sound, slamming even louder against the wall that held it.

The three Illyrians gasped, their eyes widening as the sound continued to spread through the trees. "Fuck!" shouted Cassian. Their hearts missed a beat. They started to run towards her, but halfway there, the blonde turned back to them, grinning with all her teeth. "There's no one there," she assured them with a shrug.

The three Illyrians froze in their tracks a few steps from the house. They couldn't see inside, but if the Weaver had been there, she would already have pounced on their soulmate. They couldn't believe it. The three males glanced at each other in confusion.

"She's not here?" exclaimed Cassian in an almost high-pitched voice, bewilderment distorting his features entirely.

Rhysand shook his head, frowning, but his irises were still fixed on the blonde, and his muscles tense, ready to react if Stryga threw himself at Luxiana by surprise. "It's not possible, she can't leave her house." He couldn't believe it.

Azriel's breathing was rapid and noisy. He couldn't breathe. "No, something's wrong. We're leaving!" He took a step forward.

Luxiana prevented him from advancing any further by raising her palm towards him, and against all odds, he stopped. "No, it's all right. And Rhysand can’t come closer. I'll be right back." She infiltrated the house.

Azriel hiccupped almost silently as he saw her enter. He was about to chase after her, but Cassian held him back by the arm. "Wait, let's give her some time. If the Weaver isn't there, she's safe."

"He's right," Rhysand added uncertainly. He shoved his trembling hands into his pockets without taking his eyes off the house. "If she were here, she wouldn't have allowed Luxiana into her house. I don't know how it's possible, but she's certainly not present."

But the weaver was there. She was there. She was standing in her living room, a few steps away from her door. Facing Luxiana. She was far too far from the light of the entrance to be visible to the Illyrians.

She was there. The goddess of death was there, facing Luxiana, but she wasn't moving. In fact, from the outside, you'd have thought she was completely paralyzed, but... her muscles were trembling, her precarious, almost non-existent breathing was shaking her chest spasmodically, and her eyes were widening a little more every second with fright.

Luxiana moved slowly towards her, entering the chalet a little further, making her disappear from the Illyrians' view. But even if they saw her from behind, the three males wouldn't suspect a thing. They couldn't imagine that, from the front, Luxiana's face was cold, haughty, and cruel. They wouldn't even be able to imagine that their soul mate was heading straight to one of the most powerful faes, totally terrorizing her.

The weaver was blind, but when she heard her door being kicked in, she got up from her chair and ran to tear the thief's bones out. Only, she was paralyzed in her step. She had completely frozen in fear. She'd smelled her. She'd smelled that scent she knew so well. The scent she couldn't forget. The scent of cruelty, suffering and death wrapped in a touch of vanilla.

The fae said nothing. She didn't move. She knew it would only make it worse. She was terrified. Why was she there this time? Was she going to kill her? Or was she going to do one of those much worse things she knew so well how to do?

Luxaina walked quietly through the house, circling Stryga with a wry smile as she detailed her up and down like an animal around its prey. Then, remembering that the three Illyrians were waiting for her outside and that she had no time to play, she refocused on observing all the objects around her. She even began to touch and move them with her fingertips, hoping to irritate Stryga a little.

She glanced at her sideways, but her smirk faded. The weaver didn't move. Luxiana was disappointed and made a pout that matched her feelings. She would have liked at least a little challenge, a little action. But apparently, Stryga had learned from her mistakes from last time. Anyway, with the three Illyrians just a few steps away, there wasn't much she could do.

She regained her seriousness and hurried to analyze all the objects. She had to get out of here as quickly as possible before they showed up and wondered why the god of death was terrorized in the middle of her living room. She couldn't see herself explaining.

After a quick but meticulous search, she grabbed the object that attracted her most, then headed for the exit to join the Illyrians, but as she passed by the Weaver, she stopped.

The blonde suddenly stood in front of her and smiled mockingly at Stryga who -sensing the presence of cruelty incarnate before her - flinched. Luxiana moved a little closer to the livid face and lifeless eyes of the Weaver - who was forcing herself not to back down but was still trembling a little more - to stare at her with a hungry smile, tilting her head left and right.

Luxiana held back a laugh. In the end, she preferred it when Stryga greeted her like this. With fear. She deviated her face to reach the Weaver's ear and be able to whisper to her as quietly as possible so that the three Illyrians outside wouldn't hear. "Good girl."

She ignored the brunette's umpteenth startle to turn cheerfully and hop out of the house. She closed the rickety door behind her, smiling a little wider as she heard her host's body fall to its knees in relief at her departure.

Then, she made her way towards the three Illyrians, who took a step forward when they saw her exit. Cassian leaned forward to put his hands on his knees and try not to fall. Azriel trembled, but took a deep breath. Rhysand's heart stilled and his breathing calmed.

"I don't know why, but no one was there," she assured them again, shrugging her shoulders as she came up in front of them. She threw a look at Azriel. She wasn’t lying, after all, no one else was there.

"I don't want to know," said Cassian, moving his eyes frantically in all directions, expecting to see the Weaver emerge from the vegetation to attack them.

Azriel whirled around his mate, looking her up and down to make sure she wasn't hurt. "It's fishy, let's get out of here," he ordered Rhysand.

The lord's eyebrows were furrowed and he looked at Luxiana and the house with confusion. It wasn't normal, but the main thing was that Luxiana wasn't hurt. They had to leave before the Weaver became aware of their presence. Without further ado, he teleported them all into the living room of the Town house.

"Told you it'd be easy," Luxiana smiled happily, putting her fists on her hips. Then she hiccupped as she remembered she still had Azriel's dagger. She leaned forward to grab it and hold it out to him. "Thank you so much, I didn't need it."

Rhysand was completely paralyzed by shock and although he was staring at Luxiana, he couldn't even really see her, too busy thinking about what had just happened.

Cassian ran his hands through his hair, sighing for a very long few seconds. "What the hell was that?" he articulated disbelievingly.

Azriel reacted at last, savagely grabbing his dagger from his soulmate's hands. "Damn it, she didn't do anything we told her to do," he shouted, killing the blonde with his eyes. His face was red under the anger provoked by the memory of the fear he'd felt. "You're completely insane!"

Luxiana winced with agreement as she nodded vigorously. "Because you doubted it until now?"

Azriel shrieked as he swung his dagger into the sofa. He turned to clamp his hands violently over his face as his shoulders rose and fell rapidly with his breathing. He couldn't believe it. How could his soul mate be so reckless and unconscious? She was the most fragile person he'd ever met, yet the one who took the most risks. He was scared to death. He wanted to cry. How was he going to protect her?

"He's right about that one," Cassian exclaimed sternly, crossing his arms to glare at Luxiana. They couldn't hide her temples throbbing with anger. "What possessed you to break down the door?"

"If the weaver had been there...," Rhysand rumbled in his cold high lord voice, unable to stop his shiver of anguish at the prospect of what would have happened. "She would have killed you on the spot. It was unconscious, irreflexive and incredibly stupid."

Azriel turned abruptly toward his soulmate, but when he noticed Luxiana's smirk, her laughing air and her innocently tilted head, his anger redoubled as it exploded in his chest. "This isn't a game, Luxiana! We're talking about your life! We told you to be fucking quiet!"

Luxiana rolled her eyes, sighing exaggeratedly. "At least twenty times, yes."

The three males could hardly breathe because of the anger oppressing them. Rhysand was doing all he could to keep his cool and his mind of steel, but he sensed that Luxiana was going to wear him down. Cassian had to fight with himself not to go and shake his soul mate to set her straight. Azriel broke the distance between him and the blonde, almost sticking to her with a menacing air. "Don't roll your eyes when we're talking about your life and safety! It's important, dammit!" he spat dryly, his voice vibrating with hatred. But Luxiana didn't flinch, just looked down at him with a curious smile and expression. Azriel breathed to speak more calmly. There was no point in shouting at her anyway, but he felt so bad. "You promised me to be careful, aren't promises worth anything to you?"

Luxiana chuckled a cute laugh as she flashed her dimples, "well, technically, I promised not to do anything inconsiderate or stupid, but believe it or not, my door-busting was quite considerate and thoughtful." She crossed her hands behind her back and smiled innocently.

The three Illyrians were speechless. Fear and anguish made them want to vomit, shake and fall. Their soul mate was completely mad and suicidal.

Azriel took a step backwards, shaking his head, unsure of what to do. Then he turned back to his two brothers, pointing at her. "I'm going to lock her in a windowless room and tie her to her bed so she doesn't escape and put herself in danger."

Rhysand forced himself to take deep breaths as he closed his eyes to regain his composure." The important thing is that nothing serious happened and she's fine." He nodded. That was what mattered.

Cassian ran his hands through his hair and over his face, cursing. He glanced back at his mate. "At least tell me it wasn’t all for nothing and that you found the object we wanted."

"Yes, I found it!" she exclaimed happily, jumping up and down as if poised on springs.

The eyes of the three Illyrians, especially Rhysand, began to sparkle.

Then Luxiana put her hand between her breasts, where she had hidden the object, under her corset. She pulled it out to show them with a big smile. "Tada!"

But the three Illyrians lost their expressions and Rhysand's gaze went fade. She had stolen a necklace. A steel chain with a wire holding some kind of small, sparkling violet stone dangling from it. It wasn't her mother's ring. Rhysand touched the stone with his fingertips, not quite believing it.

Cassian closed his eyes and huffed, completely disgusted.

Azriel gritted his teeth as he turned his head. "All of that for this, I don't believe it."

Luxiana frowned, playing innocent. "What?" She slowly lowered the necklace with a startled look, "this isn't the object you wanted, is it?"

Rhysand looked at her for a moment before giving her a gentle smile to reassure her. She looked so worried and sorry. "Don't worry, it's nothing."

Luxiana opened her mouth as she furrowed her brows, adopting a guilty face. "I'm sorry, I had no idea what to look for."

"Of course not, it's not your fault," Cassian tried gently to reassure her.

"It's mine," Rhysand resumed, lowering his eyes. "I should have told you what we were talking about, but... I'd thought..." He had thought that, since she was his soul mate, she would have known it was the ring she was supposed to steal. Anyway, it wasn't as if he needed any more proof that this woman was really meant for him, but he would have liked it. His mother would have wanted her to. "Anyway, it was stupid. Let's forget it."

Luxiana studied them for a moment with half-closed eyelids. They had given her no clues, no answers.

Rhysand, disappointed, was about to turn and leave, but Luxiana retrieved the very first object she'd stolen from her corset and held it out under the noses of the three Illyrians. "I suppose this isn't it either, then?"

All three looked up at her before widening their eyes.

Cassian let out an exclamation of surprise. "So you found it?"

Luxiana was still staring at them with squinted eyes, searching for information in their expressions. "Looks like it."

Rhysand began to bubble with joy and hope and a host of other emotions that could be seen sparkling in his irises.

Azriel looked at her in amazement before smirking. "So you were playing us with that necklace?"

Luxiana returned his smile. "Looks like it," she repeated, shrugging her shoulders with an air that was half provocative and half innocent.

Azriel's smile widened and his eyes sparkled. Oh, she was his soul mate, for sure.

Rhysand raised his hands to grab the ring, but Luxiana moved her arm away, placing it behind her, as far away from the lord as possible.

Rhysand threw her a quizzical expression as he dropped his arms.

Luxiana shook her head sharply. "I'm not giving you this object until you explain how I knew this was what I had to steal." No matter how much Luxiana racked her brain, she couldn't understand why she'd been drawn to that ring and why as soon as she'd seen it she'd known it was the one to retrieve.

"We could take it from you by force," Cassian smirked with a twinkle of amusement in his pupils.

"No you couldn't," Luxiana replied haughtily, wrinkling her nose. "So?" she insisted for answers.

Rhysand smiled confidently without difficulty. He was just so certain now. She had passed her mother's test. It didn't matter if the Weaver hadn't been there, maybe it had even been fate, that Stryga hadn't been there to stop Luxiana getting the ring back. She was his soul mate. She was his wife. "You just knew, that's all."

Luxiana glowered at him. "That doesn't answer my question."

"It'll answer it one day, believe me," laughs Cassian with irises shining with mischief.

Luxiana squinted her eyes to stare at them one by one, trying to understand what they were referring to, then huffed in defeat. Well, for now. Because she was determined to get the answer to her question. "May I at least know why this object is so important to you?"

Rhysand's smile turned wistful and his gaze sad. "That was my mother's engagement ring."

"What?!" gasped Luxiana, dropping her arm limply against her and frowning. "But what was she doing at the Weaver's??"

Rhysand burst out laughing tenderly. "My mother dropped it off by herself to... keep me out of mischief." He searched for words, he had to be vague. "She was afraid I'd rush off and marry someone who... who wouldn't live up to her expectations."

Luxiana first widened her eyes in realization before hiccupping in surprise and then alarm. "And you used me to get it back?!" She clapped Rhysand on the shoulder, making all three of them laugh.

"Yes," he admitted deadpan. "I was convinced you were the right person for the job, and I was right." He leaned forward to catch the ring in Luxiana's hand, but she took a few steps away with an offended expression.

"Then no, certainly not," she refused, shaking her head curtly from left to right and glowering at Rhysand. "There's no way I'm going to be one of the reasons you marry a woman your mother didn't think was up to the job. I'm not going to let you disappoint your mother, I'm telling you. This ring, I'll keep it and you'll have to introduce me to anyone you want to marry, and I'll..." she searched for words, thinking.

The Illyrians glanced at each other with laughter. Cassian held back as best he could to keep from laughing even harder at the irony of the situation. Azriel shook his head, looking tenderly at his soul mate. Rhysand raised a provocative eyebrow to encourage Luxiana to continue.

"You know what? I'd put them through tests!" she exclaimed suddenly as she got the idea. "They'd have to be up to it to marry you, believe me, I'd be a lot worse than your mother or the Weaver." She crossed her arms to glare at Rhysand. "Ah, that'll teach you not to use me again to cheat your mother's goals. I wouldn't let you do that, no."

Cassian burst out laughing, unable to hold it in any longer. He laughed so hard that he leaned forward.

Azriel detailed her in the same way before turning to Rhysand. "Oh I'm sure your mother would have loved her."

Rhysand nodded without taking his eyes off his soulmate. He leaned forward with a smirk but a seductive gleam in his pupils. "You can keep it, Luxiana, this ring is for you anyway."

Luxiana's heart leapt into her throat. She swallowed hard, forcing herself not to back down. She bit her tongue to keep her cheeks from heating up, but it didn't work. Her whole face was probably completely red. "You bastard," she muttered through her teeth, making all three of them burst out laughing.

#a court of thorns and roses #acotar #acomaf #azriel #cassian #rhysand #cassian x oc #acowar #azriel x oc #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #azriel spymaster #rhysand & cassian & azriel x oc #rhysand x oc #acotar fanfic #acotar fanfiction #acotar fic

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amber-tortoiseshell · 2 days ago

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What does the spotted pattern modifier do to the classic tabby pattern, do you have any pictures? I feel like any spotted tabbies I see have patterns that follow the mackerel pattern. Does it look differently with the classic pattern, or does it somehow not affect it or smth?

I think right now there is no real consensus on the interaction of spotted and blotched. For example Kaelin & Barsh vote for "no effect all", and puts down mackerel as the tabby (Taqpep/LVRN) genotype of spotted:

Hartwell (of messybeast) thinks it does affect it, or at least a spotting modifier which does exists: "Spotted tabbies can be due to broken mackerel stripes (in which case the spots are not so rounded) or to a spotting gene. The spotting gene breaks up the underlying mackerel or classic tabby pattern into spots."

Personally, when this topic comes up, I always have to think of bengals.

Look at that curve of spots on the first one next to the spine, and that one long rosette on the next in the same position. I can't help but feel like the lines of the blotched pattern are there. Auh, I don't know. "Every bengal is genetically blotched but some have a spotted modifier thus rosetted" and "every bengal has the spotted modifier but some are homozygous blotched thus aren't affected" are both equally valid and sound models, but something pulls me toward the former.

I found some statistics in the supplementary materials of this paper: the authors tested 16 bengals for taqpep alleles and found one at 0.5 frequency.

...All right, that's a little confusing. 50% feels too much compared to the prevalence of marbled (although they didn't disclose the pattern of the cats, so it's possible they just had that much marbleds and carriers by accident or by choosing related animals), and too little for "every bengal is blotched under the rosettes". Maybe there are more, unkown and untested alleles?

AND WAIT A MINUTE!

"Pattern phenotype of F. nigripes, which resembles the atypical swirled pattern observed in domestic cats that carry the T139N allele (Fig. S2). Nine of nine F. nigripes individuals were fixed for 4 species-specific variants (T82K, H87P, E488K, F950V)." Black-footed cats seem to be genetically kind of blotched and phenotypically spotted! So a blotched-type pattern breaking up into spots is indeed possible.

A few more remarks: famously spotted breeds egyptian mau and ocicat both have a relatively high taqpep mutation frequency here (0.32 and 0.6 respectively). To me this suggest their spotting gene affects genetically blotched cats too.

...And now i looked into ocicats and found they have a sister-breed called aztec with a classic tabby pattern according to GCCF. If ocicat, too, has 60% allele frequency of blotched, that suggests the main difference between ocicat and aztec isn't mackerel vs blotched but a spotting modifier. (What's more, this ocicat breeder says not only the spotted modifier of ocicats affects blotched, but actually the mackerel allele has been completely eliminated from the breed.)

Ocicat. If you want to, you can imagine the blotched "bullseye" into the arrangement of the spots. At least I can 😆

All right, this starts to get long, and i know i won't be able to draw any real conclusions in the end. So.

Blotched is complicated*, spotted is even more complicated**, we don't know.

*several alleles that don't necessarily have the same interaction with spotted;

**probably a mix of different modifiers, and it's very well possible some of them affects blotched and some don't.

#ask and answer #cats #tabby patterns #blotched #spotted #cat genetics

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fragglez · 5 months ago

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every time I watch a war related movie and they play the reveille i get spooked i HATE that melody

#im not hurridly putting on my uniform and running out of a tent at 5 in the morning to go run 2 miles #boy scout camp? more like BOOT CAMP #also i was the troop leader so i had to get everyone else out of the tent and make sure they were presentable #and god forbid it took more than 5 minutes #we were six people in one of those old ass orange tents #its a two people tent !!#i do miss being a boy scout tho it was fun whenever it didnt feel like the military #i used to do scout competitions #got me a mational champion trophy in boy scout (lie we did not win #we totally fucked up the first aid test)#won knot tying tho 💪#ok im just talking now so if you're still reading this won't be short #we had to get a person as high up as possible #and all we got was like 4 long ass tree trunks?? like skinny long round tree things (i hate the english language idk)#and rope #and because i was the shortest i had to hold onto the top of one of the trunks #while the others pulled me like 8 meters into the air #scary as fuck considering i was like 5' back then #won tho 💪💪#i really loved being a scout #we were called boy scouts but it was gender neutral #we hated the girl scouts™ tho #all they did was bake cake and make friendship bracelets while we had to shit in the forest #also they were just really mean like wow #nobody knows how to insult like a girl scout #i loved being troop leader #i liked helping people and being a problem solver and having my troop come to me w problems was SO awesome #until this one time when a girl woke me up in the middle of the night crying #*scene set: like 3am in a tent in the forest*#“😢 i dreamt the scout leader stabbed your eyes out with a cheese cutter 😭😭😭😭” HELLO??? WHAT THE FUCK GOODNIGHT

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deservedgrace · 1 year ago

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i was thinking about the sleep deprivation thing that cults do and something i completely forgot about with regards to that conversation is that the sleep needs of children/teens are different to adults. it's a range as most things are, but when it comes to sleep you HAVE to go based off the biggest number to ensure everyone gets proper sleep because you cannot function properly without proper sleep

so, if you were a teenager who went to church camps and they allowed for less than 10 hours of sleep, or if you were a kid (6-12) and they allowed for less than 12 hours of sleep, you very well may have been sleep deprived, either intentionally or unintentionally

and as a little bonus: adults tend to respond to sleep deprivation with tiredness, but kids tend to respond with hyperactivity, and even one night of sleep deprivation can affect someone

#i don't think my places were intentional cuz most people don't know the amount of sleep kids/teens need #but i am so positive that we were not getting 12 hours to sleep when we did the middle school thing (11-14)#or the thing that had high school and middle school #i cannot remember the middle school thing but the high school ones were during summer #and i remember us always getting into bed when it was pitch black And that we had to wake up way earlier than anyone wanted to #yes it's possible we stayed up past curfew but i remember playing group games in the dark #insane that they did this to us #cult tactics #religious trauma #ex christian #personal

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a-dash-in-the-middle · 3 months ago

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i don't know if i am horrible at communicating when i want a little attention or when i feel forgotten, or if people just in general never think it is about them because in their mind all of our needs are met and i am venting about everybody else?

#both could also be simultaneously possible #but doing the first one feels like shit cuz i want the need for me to naturally come and it somehow feels forced #even tho they could just listen to me and then reassure me once and then never think about it again #so like maybe i cant force anyone to feel anything anyways #so i should not worry about the results being insincere after i open up about them #but then it just makes me feel even more like shit cuz then i cannot hide behind it not being on purpose or out of lack of care #if they change nothing #and then i have to confront myself if i can live with it or if it hurts me too much or if i should give it less energy to preserve my sanit #BUT THE SECOND THING #which is a valid assumption on their sides i mean i had friends say they do not have friends #but then they did not count me in there #which i only realised after comforting them and also just asking so i know how i could support them more in such times obvi #i should really not drink this much caffeine and sugar in a day #it creates emotions and tired awakeness at night and we cant have that #DO NOT CONSUME 2 ENERGY DRINKS AND TWO COFFIES A DAY PEOPLE #W A R N I N G #nobody take this personally too please i am just great #it will all turn out well the road is sometimes just bumpy but its rideable yknow #BUT I AM DOING AMAZING fr fr #like no worries please i really did just get philosophical at midnight for no reason other that high sugar intake

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gibbearish · 8 months ago

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am finally back home and can say without a doubt that i am just fundamentally not built for long distance travel however the train was much nicer than planes

#that being said. pressurized cabins drive me insane a little bit #and also it gives you pretty intense sea legs for a While #like. the ones from the first trip hadnt gone away by the return one. so. might be stuck with that for a few days #we shall see #also ajr live fucks severely #the albums were already incredible but that was a goddamn religious experience #like. idk the way i think abt it is theyre more djs than a regular band esp w their performance showing the making of way less sad #like their music is very electronic‚ theyre making mixes of their own sound effects more than singing in one go #so like. the vocals were a teeensy bit rough at times #notably times it has taken me Literally Hundreds Of Hours Practice to be able to consistently sing along with #and times ive found its literally physically impossible to like. no matter what #idc how big your lungs are‚ there is no human on earth who can do that final run of karma in one breath #much less to An Entire Stadium After An Hour Of Jumping And Dancing And Singing Loud As Fuck #so like i dont blame them for that‚ you dont go to live shows expecting it to be 100% perfect anyways jwbdjsbfksb #the trumpet however. well she was certainly playing sometimes. and was very enthusiastic about her flares.#however. in most of their songs they use midi trumpets to my ear at least #meaning she was likely an addition specifically for live performances and in my personal band kid opinion #prooobably was not in any of the like. higher tier bands? idk just. a lot of the mistakes she was making were hitting as stuff that got #taught out of us the instant we joined any band beyond regular concert #so i would guess she was probably just like. a friend who happened to play trumpet in high school or maybe even just middle school #and they knew that the trumpet parts in their pieces were big and distinct enough that like they /had/ to get a live player #and just kinda. didnt anticipate the audition -> performance gap #like. her tone was really fried the whole time like she was playing as hard as possible #which. she was mic'd. have the sound guy turn her up.#the way they did it made it sound like she was using a mute but not. like she only got the bad parts of a mute from it yknow #her tempo and timing were. bad. theres no nice way to put that one it just Was Bad‚ like the trumpet runs in ajr songs arent. complicated #like. quite literally if you handed me the sheet music right now i would have it down perfect in a week at absolute most #and better than that player on sightread. like. we did so many sightreading drills.#like ill share my band kid creds if anyone cares but i need to emphasize this isnt me being braggy like. they genuinely just arent hard #fuck im out of tags. w/e i think only like one of yall also listens to them anyways so i can leave it there

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inkskinned · 2 months ago

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it is november, and yesterday it felt like it was supposed to be snowing. in boston, november used a winter month, not a fall month. it is supposed to be chilly; rarely capping over 45F. it is a sweater-and-jacket month. it is a "maybe a scarf too" month. in my childhood, november meant blizzards and sleet.

it did not snow. tomorrow the weather predicts a high of 76.

i have spent so many years of my life studying the longterm possibilities of climate change - the culmination of capitalism wreaking havoc on the bodies of people, animals, plants - but every so often i am still shocked by something small and personal.

in a hundred years, when someone goes outside in boston - will they know the feeling of "snow in the air"?

i know it's a learned feeling, a sensation that maybe only longterm experience can teach. a few years ago, i was walking with my friend who had just moved up from the south. i said it smells like snow and she gave me this look like - what the fuck. i said it feels like snow too, which didn't help. she looked up to the bright blue sky and then back at me and then back at the sky. 12 hours later, we had 3 inches. you can just tell if it's going to snow.

except i can't tell, anymore. i stand outside in a tee shirt and watch my dog dance around a lake. we're in a drought and the skin of the water has peeled back twenty meters. the lake is tamed, quiet, puddlelike and sour. my pokemon go app warns there's a weather condition in my area.

my dog gets too hot from running and sits in the water and i want to laugh about his long frame and how awkwardly he sits - and i can't. some simian part of my brain is scratching the walls. it was supposed to snow. it was supposed to snow, but now it's warm instead.

during the last full solar eclipse, the dogs and the birds and the crickets went crazy under utter darkness. we laughed at them then, promising it will all be okay in a moment. but some part of me is still locked in that long night: some animal sensation.

something is wrong, my body says. i can't afford eggs or rent. i go outside to watch a sunset and listen to birdsong. i don't bring a jacket. allergies are killing me this season, allergies i didn't have as a kid. everyone comments that halloween has started to feel strange, offkilter. that it's hard having "holiday cheer." my body thinks it's april, and then it thinks we're in september, and then june.

something is terribly wrong, she whispers. go outside. it is supposed to be snowing.

#spilled ink #warm up #.....#i had 2 people close to me die within a month #sorry for not being around #on the other hand #my friend code on pokemon go is #4747 8104 8180

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tonycries · 14 days ago

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Cake or Fake - G.S.

Synopsis. The only birthday gift your brother’s best friend wants? You. And not just for fake-dating…

Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, brother’s best friend! Gojo, annoyances to lovers, fake dating, PINING, jealousy (Gojo’s side), past Sukuna x Reader, matíng presses, vírgínity loss (Gojo), oraI (fem rec.), PÚSSYDRÚNK GOJO, size kínk, cervíx kíssing, he’s such a tease, cúmplay, p talking, making him WHÍMPER, spítting, pánty-steaIing, slight chokíng, reader is Geto’s sister, matchmaking, pet names, swéaring.

Word count. 11.1k

A/N. In honor of my hubby’s birthday!!

“Wait, who’s coming to your party?”

“It’s not just a ‘party’, it’s my surprise party-”

“Satoru, it’s not a surprise party if you’re the one organizing the surp-” You’re cutting yourself off with a heaving sigh, massaging your throbbing temples. “Anyway- continue.”

Growing up, you didn’t suffer through years of endless torment from Gojo Satoru to hope that he’d ever use logic. No, of course not.

Instead, he’s brandishing the oversized birthday banner he’d bought himself, softly smacking the top of your head. “Besides- it’s not like everyone’s going to be there. Just our group, Nanami’s troupe, some Kyoto people, I invited Yaga but he kicked me out of his office- oh- and Sukuna.”

Ah, there it was.

The one person you didn’t want to see just as much as you didn’t want to be roped into your brother’s best friend’s “surprise” party planning for his own birthday. But, alas, here you were.

And here tumbled the next few words that would likely haunt you for the rest of your life.

“I need you to date me.”

“Oh? Okay.”

“Listen I know it’s stupid and I know-” Wait…what? Cutting yourself off with a choked-up wheeze- for the first time since he’d barged into your life, Gojo had truly and absolutely stumped you. “Wait- you agreed?”

He’s shrugging one broad deltoid, tinted glasses that you’d bought for his last birthday sliding down that high nose bridge of his. And the grin you’re graced with is blinding. “Well, I knew it was about time before you fell for my charms~” Before one strong arm swings its way around your shoulders, manhandling you against the thin black t-shirt wrapped around his sculpted body. He wiggles his cloudy brows, “What was it- the hair? The eyes? The body? Y’know I’ve been hitting the gym more-”

“Gojo Satoru.” you’re gritting out through tight lips. “I need you to date me- just for one night.”

“So it was the body-” he’s gasping dramatically, beefy arms frantically wrapping around your middle. You could feel the curves of his washboard abs against your palm. Purring voice pitching up into what almost sounded like a whine, “At least take me out to dinner first–! To think that you just want me for a one night stand-”

In a split-second, your palms slap over his nonsensical mouth - hard enough that you almost spy a stinging stamp of red on his skin.

And yet, Gojo doesn’t complain. Doesn’t display anything but a brazen gleam in his gaze that practically screamed out kinky~!

“Shut- up- my brother’s in the next room.” You’re hissing, eyes flickering behind Gojo’s toned figure and towards the kitchen door for any looming sign of Geto. “I need you to date me-” Your digits tighten over his mouth as soon as you feel it moving to prattle away once more. “-just for tonight- no, not as a one night stand, put that banner down- We just need to ah- pretend?”

Damn, it sounds more of a garbage idea out loud - and you didn’t even know that was possible.

At the question in his summer blue eyes, your hopefully explanatory words spill out a mile a minute. “S-so Sukuna has been getting around since our little break-up a few months ago- if you can even call it that…”

Ah, melding into such a big group with your brother’s friends and your own in university had always meant that there would be a few bumps along the way.

From explaining to an overeager Haibara that no, you and Gojo were definitely not dating, to making sure that your brother and his best friend didn’t make Nanami suffer from an aneurysm too early in life, to perhaps the biggest of them all - your fiery, yet short-lived fling with Ryomen Sukuna.

The most dramatic bump, according to Shoko.

Sukuna wasn’t a close friend, but it’d taken work to get over the worst of the awkwardness after he’d dumped you without a moment’s notice. And you weren’t exactly dreaming up a wedding with him…sort of, but you certainly did skip out on a few invitations to hang out if you knew that he’d show his smug face.

And right now it left you ironically wishing you’d heeded Gojo’s words when he’d first warned you that Sukuna “wasn’t right for you.”

Though, you think part of it came from his own unexplainable love-hate animosity with the man.

“-but I’ve still been painfully single since the last time I saw him, and you know how he is. I can’t face him like this.” You, in particular, knew too well. “You two still have that weird rivalry thing going on, right? So help me show him up just for tonight- then later we say it fizzled out and everything goes back to normal. It’s a win-win really if- eugh!”

You snatch your hand back as far as it would go the very second you feel the sodden drag of something against your palm. Staring in horror at your clammy skin…he licked you.

And Gojo almost winces at the loss of your touch - he almost drags your hand back himself.

But oh, it was worth it just to see the way your gorgeous features get scrunched up into an even more gorgeous glare - one that said if looks could kill, then he’d already be six feet under and having his surprise party thrown on his grave already.

Truly the way to a man’s heart, he swoons internally.

“Fine.”

And when has that particular tone from Gojo ever boded well for you?

“Fine?”

You find yourself gulping at the slight bob of his smooth Adam’s apple, the flex of his back muscles when he hunches downwards to crowd your space. Mere inches away. Somehow, he seemed too close and too far away at the same time. Too intoxicating with his cold, pinewood scent.

“Fine I’ll let you- heh, use me for my body.” Tone intentionally dipping into a low, rumbling territory. Gojo’s batting his long snowy lashes in a way you’d almost deem innocent - if it wasn’t for the next few words that tumble urgently from his mouth. “-only if you give me something back. A kiss.”

You jolt, “What?”

“I’m the birthday boy, and I say-”

Cutting him off with a thoroughly practiced scoff, “Well, I have common sense. And I say I should just ask Nanami instead-”

“Is the common sense in my five-star getaway cabin with us right now?”

“Okay! You two!” Geto’s roughened hands clap down on your shoulders with a little more force than necessary. His voice is patient - used to this. “Please try not to make this a funeral before we can make it a birthday party, Satoru’s decorations are non-refundable.”

Oh, shit.

How long had he been standing there?

Judging by Geto’s slight shake of your shoulders as if scrambling the practical part of your brain back into functionality - and the way he wasn’t lecturing your ear off just yet - you guessed that the two of you had been lucky this time.

Face burning, you pray you didn’t look as guilty as you were. Swatting your older brother’s well-meaning hands away. “Speaking of, for a busybody hosting his own surprise party, I’m shocked you didn’t want any gifts.” Quirking a brow, “Is there even anything you want? Anything else?”

Gojo knew what you meant - you weren’t just talking about the party anymore.

And, well…he avoids your eyes. Yes. Yes, there is .

You.

But, woe, even the utterly shameless Gojo Satoru couldn’t possibly say that out loud - especially in front of his best friend, and your brother - so he settles on an obnoxiously dragged-out, “Awww- Trynna make my birthday special f’me, sweetheart~?”

And even that was toeing the line.

He can’t help the way his rosy lips curl smugly at the edges when you’re hissing out a heated, “S-see if I try and have a civil conversation with you ever again, Gojo.”

“Ouch!” Gojo’s clutching dramatically at his heart with a willowy faint that leaves him hanging off of Geto’s shoulders - and it wasn’t too hard to fake with the way his heart lurches uncomfortably at the sound of his last name on your pretty tongue. “Right for the jugular- is this your way of throwing the towel on our truce?”

Truce…is that what he’s calling it?

You catch your own brother - that traitor - stifling a bout of laughter behind his hand when his towering best friend seems to cower in your mere presence. Because, really, who was Gojo Satoru against you?

Sighing with that slightly infuriated pout you haven’t lost since you were a whiny, teary-eyed brat meeting him at his Digimon-themed birthday party many, many years ago.

Gojo takes the moment to truly appreciate how you’ve grown since.

He hadn’t technically invited you back then - but what else was there to do when your older brother was off making friends in kindergarten already and being invited by his “new best friend”?

You’d been pouty the entire evening at that, he remembers, and his mother had gotten a ton of photos just of your bickering duo. A year younger and just barely an inch shorter than him, but to a freshly six-year-old Gojo that made all the superiority - enough to tease you badly enough that you’d left him with a tiny, throbbing pink handprint across his cheek, and his poor heart in your palm.

“No.” Your voice rips him out of his reverie, as it always seems to do these days. “So you better k-keep up your end of the truce, too.”

With you stomping your way back to your cabin suite, Gojo finds his twinkling eyes straying right after. Hot on your heels. Unable to tear away. You really have changed since then, all grown up - as is he - and yet-

“That’s after a truce?” Geto wonders out loud for the both of you.

Well, he’s eyeing his best friend. And Gojo was nothing if not a good- well, he was good at everything, quite frankly. Everything except for when it came to you. “Suguru, we might have to plan a surprise engagement party tonight instead of a surprise birthday party.”

“Huh?”

Because he still feels as much the bumbling six-year-old with his first-ever crush as he was back then.

---

“Matching colors?”

You sigh, “Check.”

“Matching backstories?”

“Check.”

“Kiss me?”

“Ch- wait not yet-” you’re managing to shrill out, fingers curling even tighter around where Gojo had insisted you latch onto his bicep. And you feel him flex boastfully under his velvety button-up, “And do we really need to make some grand entrance? You literally planned the entire party.”

He’s flicking your forehead - softly, you’ve seen Gojo roughhousing with your brother before and he didn’t use even half his strength on you. “Surprise party- the birthday boy has to make a dramatic entrance with his girlfriend. How else will we make a statement?”

You’re grumbling to yourself about why you needed to make a statement at all - but you can’t argue, this was your idea after all.

And Gojo seemed well and fully intent to excel in his role…perhaps too intent.

Now, you always knew that his family was disgustingly wealthy; but Gojo practically dragged you to the nearest high-end mall this morning. Insisting on the latest twinkling bracelets and bejewelled necklaces to match his fitted shirt. Cooing that you looked “absolutely gorgeous” in every single one.

Was this official girlfriend treatment from Gojo Satoru himself? You’ve never known him to have had a long-term relationship in all the years he’s been your brother’s friend but…but it was all so much for just one night of acting.

And when you’re twirling that flowy silken fabric of your dress around your fingers, you wonder if that’s all he was thinking.

“Hey?” The rounded pads of his fingers skim over your cheeks, “Nervous?”

“A little.” you admit, trying oh-so-desperately to escape from his blazing sapphire gaze.

And Gojo crushes you close to his body, one massive palm resting firmly on your hips, hardened front pressing up against yours. Warm. Steady. Voice so close now that you could catch every slight crack towards the end, the heat of Gojo’s feverish breath - practically burning - against your ear.

You wanted to feel his hands more - everywhere.

Woah. You’re shaking your head, thankful it simply looked like you were gathering your wits. Maybe you were more tired than you thought.

“We’ll be alright. Trust me, it’ll go smoothly.” Was- was Gojo Satoru comforting you? He’s cracking a smile, like the thought just occurred to him, too. “And if it doesn’t then I can beat up that b-”

SLAM!

“Why are you taking so lo- What. The. Fuck.”

Your first instinct is to wrench away from Gojo’s hold - but unluckily for you, his first instinct is the exact opposite. And you find his firm digits tensing to dig into the plush of your hips, both of your heads snapping towards that gravelly new voice.

Catching a jaw-dropped Shoko with her half-burnt cigarette dropped to the floor, she looked nowhere near even thinking of picking it back up. You could practically see the gears curdling around in her head.

“Ah-” You’re gasping out in what you hoped was believable scandal, fingers latching around Gojo’s own cold ones. Not to remove - no, Gojo almost has a heart attack when you intertwine them with yours. “Hope we’re not too late, Sa- Toru here wanted to go shopping.”

“Wait-” Shoko runs her hands through her silky locks like she was pleading to the skies above. “Wait wait wait- wait- when did this happen no-” She’s baring you with her most aghast look, “Why did this happen?”

Gojo comes to your rescue, face falling into the crook of your neck with a grin. “Told ya she would fall for my charms eventually~”

“Yes, but I didn’t think she was that stupid-”

Yes! You have to fight to hide your smile, despite the blatant insult. One down - if you could get everyone at this party to believe in your little act, then Sukuna would have to.

“Still here–” You’re deadpanning, hoping that your friends didn’t catch the slight tremors in your voice. Damn- why did Gojo have to be so warm. “-and uh- maybe we should head inside? After it is a certain someone’s-”

“Shhh! You’ll ruin my surprise.”

It all goes according to script - well, your entrance with Gojo and his entrance into the party.

As soon as your duo steps in, the dim lights flicker on and you’re deafened with the cheery yell of surprise! Blinking your startled gaze to adjust to the blinding decorations upon decorations that Gojo himself had put up, you can’t help but let out a chuckle at the smiling faces that meet you.

Geto and Haibara holding exploded party poppers, the rest of the group from Kyoto standing around a brightly lit cake you’d baked, Nanami the one turning on the lights - the farthest away from the birthday boy. Purposefully so, you imagine.

And there - in the center of it all - Sukuna.

Arms crossed, a pink brow raised as he drinks in the sight of you - all of you.

As was the rest of the room, eyes widening in true surprise.

Gojo’s clutching the front of his shirt with almost-frightening theatrics. “You guys- You did this all for me? You’re the absolute best-”

“Eugh.”

“What did you blackmail her with?”

“Congratulations on your relationship!”

Your eyes latch onto Geto - who only takes a long look at you and cackles.

Gojo’s huffing ever-so-slightly as he gets cut off, and that’s what it takes for you to realize that you still had his fingers looped undeniably with yours. In fact, he’s tugging you even close to wrap one heavy arm over your shoulder, the very picture of sappy devotion when he nuzzles his cheek into your own. “They’re bullying me~”

He was laying it on thick.

He’d barely steered you into the living room before you catch a flash of white and two firm arms curled around your neck - away from your supposed boyfriend.

“My lovely!” Utahime cries, cocktail abandoned somewhere to wrangle you free from Gojo’s treacherous grasp. She’s cupping your face with visible concern, “Is your head okay? Did you knock it somewhere? I know a good doctor that can help with-”

“Hey! She’s my lovely-”

“I’m fine, Utahime.” You’re subtly stepping on Gojo’s toes before things can escalate any further. Eyes meeting red ones from across the room, “-I promise. We’re just ah- giving it a go. It’s very new and we didn’t want to make such a big deal out of it, honestly.”

Lies. The entire point is to make a big deal out of it.

Shoko crosses over in a flash, droopy eyes flickering between you and a sheepish Gojo. “Giving it a-” Slicing their way over to the decorative blush on his cheeks, “-go…huh.”

And as you’re surrounded by the tittering crowd, you’ve never felt more like one of those cell samples that Shoko would dissect in medical school and proudly show your reluctant self pictures of.

Ogling everything from the weight of Gojo’s hand on your shoulders to that soppy smile on his face when he smushes his cheek into yours like some overgrown cat. And you can’t help but wear a grin of your own.

Can’t help but feel relief when she cracks a wicked smile, “Fucking finally.”

Haibara gathers your hands in his own, “I-I’m so proud of you two! Nanami and I have been hoping for this for the past five years-” Flitting his strangely wet eyes to a Nanami who couldn’t have looked more disinterested if he tried. “-isn’t that right Nanami?”

“No it’s not.” he’s rolling his eyes, but you catch the slightest hint of a twitch at the corners of his lips. And it hits you that he’s happy for you.

Really, truly happy.

“Right right!” Haibara plows on, and you have half the mind to wonder if the obliviousness was a skill. “It’s been more like the past seven years-”

Geto slaps! his hand on Gojo’s shoulder, a knowing smile playing on his lips. “So he finally grew the balls, huh?”

“Eh? I mean-” you’re strangling out at your brother’s sudden comment. “-I mean of course. Had to practically force it out of him though, y’know?”

Shoko nods, eyes far away like she’s remembering something you can’t. “Of course, you did- pining fool.” And in the corner of your eye, you sneak a glimpse at the way Gojo’s sharp jaw clenches. Grinding ever-so-lightly as she calls out, “Well, I was almost at my wit’s end with your horrible taste in men. No offense, Sukuna, not that this one’s any better- let me know if you ever need his balls chopped off in his sleep–”

Utahime’s narrowed glare stays locked on Gojo, “Hurt her and it’ll be more than your balls.”

Sukuna, notably, says nothing.

Gojo Satoru was a liar.

The guestlist for his birthday wasn’t simply your friends - it was damn near the entire campus by the time the cake had been cut and you’d all settled into your usual conversations.

Body after body filtering in through those towering mahogany doors of his. Invitation or not. Rapidly and steadily, it was growing into another one of Gojo’s famed parties. Honestly, you wouldn’t even be surprised if you’d actually bumped into Professor Yaga somewhere in there.

“Eheh- whoops.” His apologetic words hit hotly against your ear over the thumping music. Your body jostling precariously where you were sat all prettily in his lap on the overpriced living room couch. “I don’t even know half these people.”

And, yet, more than half the people seemed to know you - or, at least, your relationship with Gojo.

Sure, you were aware that your brother and his best friend were amongst some of the most popular students on campus, but this was ridiculous. You couldn’t pass two minutes without a few guests sauntering up to wish the two of you well and leaving Gojo with a “congratulations for finally growing the balls.”

“They sure know a lot about your balls, huh?” You’re raising a brow, back pressed up against the massaging ridges of his abs. And some part of you felt guilty for deceiving all of these people - they really did look curiously happy for the two of you.

Gojo’s bemoaning, “I can assure you that you are the only one allowed to talk about my b-”

“Ugh, couples.” Comes your brother’s voice to the side of you, the cushiony couch dips as he takes his seat. “Though, it is much better than having him mope around.”

“Suguru…” Gojo murmurs. Low.

“What? Scared I’ll embarrass you in front of your girlfriend?” Geto was such a provocateur despite that serene expression he’d constantly wear on the outside. Taking a long swig of his beer before musing, “Remember, she’s my sister, Satoru. And I think she should know about that book of pick-up lines you bought for her. And that picture in your-”

Immediately, two engulfing hands find their place on either side of your head, covering your ears so blatantly. Gojo’s strained screech is only slightly muted when he drags out, “W-we haven’t gotten to that stage yet!”

“Oh, I see I see-” And Haibara - dear, sweet Haibara - always chooses the worst times to pop up from behind the two of you. Ringing voice commanding the attention of about half of the room nearby when he’s humming, “So you two are still in the honeymoon phase, then? How romantic!”

“No.”

“Yes.”

There’s such dangerous possessiveness in Gojo’s limbs when they tangle in a mess with yours. One arm wrapped tight around your waist, the other gliding its lecherous pathway up and down your exposed thigh. Slowly. Savoring.

Gojo’s fingers twirl over the short hem of the dress he’d bought, lips pressed up against your throat as he mutters. “Aw, c’mon– no need to be shy, sweetheart.”

And you’re sure whatever strange little flip your heart did showed on your face - because immediately, you’re being showered with awww’s and squeals from all around you two- when did you even draw in a crowd?

“Then why dontcha give ‘er a pretty peck to prove it.”

But of course, Sukuna was in it, too.

“What?”

You try not to let your true feelings bleed into your words when you take a long look at that unchanged smirk, the way he’s tilting his tattooed neck in defiance. Shrugging up sculpted shoulders, “M’just saying. If you were my girl, I’d want to prove it to everyone here.”

Damn.

Geto nudges his best friend, and you grit your teeth - because proving it was exactly what Sukuna did when you two were dating. Often these parties found you sneaking away if he felt generous, and Sukuna’s lips hot against yours right on the dance floor if he didn’t.

All in front of a fuming Gojo.

And, hell, if he could be petty then so could you.

You’re ignoring the boiling in your veins to run a few stray fingers through Gojo’s angelic hair. Soft. It drags his steely gaze from Sukuna over to you with a gulp, “S’that okay, Toru–” Oh god, that nickname has Gojo wondering whether he’s in heaven. “-wouldn’t wanna make you uncomfortable.”

“Tch, are you kiddin’ me-” He recovers quickly, and you didn’t know whether the raw awe in his voice was part of the acting or simply just Gojo being himself. “-provin’ to losers than I’m yours is the best birthday gift I could get.”

The last thing you see is that tiny, curvaceous dimple at the end of Gojo’s grin before he’s smashing his lips onto yours. It’s messy. Disorganized. The very beginnings of a sodden French kiss.

Sheer teeth and lips and need as he suckles lightly on your lower lip, pearly white canines sinking in ever-so-lightly until you keen. Lost into the wolf whistles erupting from the party-goers - it seems to knock some sense into you two.

And Gojo breaks the kiss with a panting pah! sugary sweet taste of his birthday cake lingering on your tongue - over as soon as it started. “Happy birthday to me.”

“You are so corny-” you’re croaking, more so because you didn’t know what to say than anything. Because all your mind was whirling with weren’t words - it was the feeling of wanting more more more-

Shit. Your eyes widen, peering down at Gojo’s half-drunken gaze - even though you’re sure his lightweight self hasn’t had a single drink tonight. You wanted to kiss him more.

“I-I think I’m going to get a drink.” you’re mumbling out, hastily standing on two unsteady feet. Mere moments away from stepping into the kitchen - from making your escape - before long digits clasp around your wrist. With a plastered smile, you turn to Gojo, gaze flickering down between his begging eyes and that vice-like grip of his. “You need anything, babe?”

“Ah-” Gojo lets you go as if your skin scorched him - as if he didn’t even realize that he’d been holding onto you this way. “No no, nothing for me- don’t take too long, m’kay~”

Every step you take, Gojo’s watching after you like it couldn’t be fast enough.

Because after that? That kiss that had him feeling like a pathetically melty puddle of teenage hormones? Shit, he’s almost on the verge of getting out of his seat and running after you like a maiden himself-

“So…ugh- was that part of the truce?”

“Huh?”

“Was that- dammit, Satoru fuckin’ look at me- she’s not even in your line of sight!”

“Oh- what?” Gojo’s veering his eyes over to his best friend, gaze still trailing after you like a lost puppy even when he registers the other man talking to him. Your little audience had mostly dissipated by now, leaving him to act as much of a fool as his idol-like persona on campus didn’t allow.

Geto lets him stew in the strobing silence of the party music for a little longer, before heaving out a sigh that was much too worldly for a young man of twenty-something. As a younger sister, you really did give him grief - and he finds himself almost wishing he hadn’t interrogated Gojo after overhearing your strange agreement earlier today. “Man, you really are stupid, huh?”

“I know.”

“And this charade of yours is even stupider.”

“...I know.”

“And you realize that you might just be helping her back into the arms of that Sukuna all over again, right?”

“WHAT?” He’s so desperately loud that a few guests in the vicinity jump. But Gojo didn’t care - he didn’t give a shit about anything other than grasping onto Geto’s collar, shaking him stupid. “Have you lost your mind- I’m supposed to be the nonsensical one in our duo-”

“I-I’m just saying.” Geto’s putting his hands up as if a shield, “Getting an ex-boyfriend jealous using the same man he was threatened over when they were dating? Sounds like the textbook recipe for jealousy sex if you ask me.”

Oh, Gojo Satoru was going to kill someone. Brows marrying together, he only wobbles his best friend harder. “B-but no- that can’t be- they hate each other, don’t they?”

And, ah, he hated how Geto always knew what to say.

Hated how he already knew by the devilish curve of Geto’s lips that nothing that was about to fall out of it was going to do his sanity any good.

Gojo flails, “No wait-”

“Don’t you two claim you ‘hate each other’? And yet, here you are.” Geto’s patting his best friend on the back as if consoling him, shaking his head with the patience of a mother with a few problem children. “There there, you complete imbecile. Now you might want to stay here sulking with a singleton like me, or- you might want to go over there and avenge the honor of your fake relationship, because I see an ex-boyfriend coming in hot.”

“What?”

He’s jerking his head around so urgently that Gojo’s vision blacks out for a bit - and that’s exactly the excuse he’ll use for years to come when he shoots up to his full height. Snatching a glass of liquid courage from Geto-

“Satoru, that’s-”

Knocking it back within seconds before storming off to just where he could just peak your beautiful self in the kitchen being crowded by Sukuna. That adorable furrow in between your brows betraying your thoughts, lips moving furiously with a frown.

“Do you think he knows that what he drank was just water and not alcohol…” Geto tilts his now-empty cup at a lounging Nanami nearby, head bowed like he couldn’t give a single fuck if this party burned with him in it.

“No.”

“Do you think he realized the ‘jealous sex’ was a bluff?”

“No.”

Geto lets out a slight huff of laughter, “And do you think he realizes that more than one person in our group knows it’s pretend?”

“No.” Nanami didn’t care if he risked sounding like a broken recorder, after spending almost a decade with you two dancing around each other, he thinks he’s owed that privilege at the very least. “I don’t think he realizes that had your sister so much as looked his way, let alone date his sorry self, then the entire campus would have been hearing about it for the past month.” For the first time since he’d found himself accidentally dragged into Geto’s conversation with him, Nanami raises his head to catch the tail end of Gojo’s lanky legs disappearing into the kitchen. “After all, Sukuna did break up with her because they were in love with each other. Just too stupid to see.”

Now, you might not exactly be his yet like he’s wished on every single birthday candle since he was six - but Gojo Satoru was to be damned if was going to let any other bastard steal his fake girlfriend.

“Sukuna-”

“Awww…what happened to ‘Kuna’, baby?”

You snort, arms crossing over each other while you fixate your glare on Sukuna’s leering form. God, the kitchen just seemed too small for the two of you. “I think you lost that privilege when you dumped me.” Attempting- failing - to sidestep, “Now if you’d excuse me, my boyfriend is-”

Scoffing, “Girl- what boyfriend?”

Sukuna looked to be on the very verge of laughter, and you were on the verge of breaking into a nervous sweat. He’s rasping out a rumbling snicker at that look on your pretty face, “Oh come on, now- you can’t really expect me to believe that sorry excuse of a kiss came from the same man that’s been wantin’ you for years, right?”

Shit.

Wait…years?

Your fingers curl tighter around the beer bottle, “I-I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

And you watch as Sukuna’s mouth drops - now fully laughing in your face. “Damn- not even a hint? You really did downgrade after me, ma. At least I was honest.”

“Honestly an asshole, that’s for sure.”

But the rest of your fire swims down the drain as he inches closer. And closer. Heat radiating off the rippling muscles of his body when a big, beefy arm of his cages you against the polished marble counter. Head inclining slightly towards the door, “Well- why don’t you and I-”

“Take your fuckin’ hands off my girlfriend.”

“Satoru?”

But the sight you’re met with seems anything but - gone is that softly teasing demeanor, vanquished is Gojo’s easy smile. His pretty features are twisted into such a feral snarl; and where his tone was ice-cool, his eyes were blazing with raw fury.

Gojo looked like he didn’t even hear you as he echoes, “I won’t say it again.”

“Well alright then, Mr. Boyfriend.” Sukuna lets go of the cool counter surface with a knowing chuckle, walking horrifically towards a seething Gojo himself. The two stand eye-to-eye, glare-to-glare. “Are ya sure you and your third-rate acting wasn’t interrupting anything between myself and my girlfriend?”

“Satoru, ignore him–” You’re pleading, trembly voice jolting Gojo out of his hypnotized stupor, and making him drag his heavy legs around to you. Fuck, that was close. You didn’t know what-

“That’s right. Comfort your friend the only way you know how- s’not like you can do anything other than pine for decades until the next one comes around to steal her away, anyway.”

CRASH!

In a split-second, Gojo has Sukuna pinned against the wooden cabinets by his cotton shirt. Ego and desperation wafting from the two men as his feet dangle a few centimeters off the floor. Gojo had his teeth bared - eyes wild, looking like he was seconds from foaming at the very mouth. And Sukuna’s own lips quirked upwards into a grin.

“You better watch your fucking mouth.” Gojo hisses.

“You wanna tell her or should I-”

“What is happening here-” Shoko’s sharp voice snaps the three of you from your little bubble of violence, and it’s like all of a sudden the music and the party comes pouring back into the kitchen. Strangers and friends alike hot on your heels to watch the drama unfold, being pushed back by a frantic Haibara. “You’re acting like children.”

Sukuna shoves the other man off of him, and makes his way out. “Well, I know one of us hasn’t grown up.”

And Gojo is just about to stride forwards- until you catch him with a hand hooked around his elbow. Feeling the washing sense of deja vu from not too long ago. Hastily spitting out, “N-now- oh! Look at that, let me get that bruise cleaned up-” There was no bruise, and there was no reason for you to drag Gojo from the kitchen as fast as you did. Yet, you did anyway. “We’ll be upstairs–”

“Man…Sukuna.” Geto whistles lowly, watching you lug his 6’3 mess of a clingy best friend up the stairs and into what he assumes to be Gojo’s bedroom. “I know you wanted to set them up together badly but wasn’t that a little much?”

“Oh shut up- I don’t give a shit if they get together or- or if she’s happy or not.” he gruffs, stalking off.

Yet, Geto guffaws at the angry rouge that colored the very tips of his ears, and the slight wobble in Sukuna’s lower lip when he stops to watch you two make your escape.

Yeah. “Didn’t give a shit” his ass.

“Ugh.” Utahime rolls her eyes, signalling at the DJ to raise the volume on the music just a tad louder. She had a dreading feeling they’d strangely need it. “Men.”

Ugh, men.

You roll your eyes, the soft pads of your fingers tracing over where Gojo’s knuckles were slightly reddening after knocking against the cabinets. You were only glad that it didn’t escalate into something even worse - damn this stupid idea.

“I’m sorry.”

Gojo breaks the thickened silence between you two, his sullen voice echoing across all four wide corners of the master bedroom. But all you can hear is the thundering of your own pulse when he blinks his eyes up at you, “I didn’t…didn’t think it would go this far.”

The two of you are sitting on the edge of his king-sized bed, practically sinking into the plush mattress. And you can’t help but notice how much the room smells like him.

“Ah, well- y’know…” you’re trailing off, and the way you look at him - so soft and raw will forever be etched into his honeyed mind. You were comforting him…what a night. “Play stupid games, win stupid prizes. B-beside- it’s over now, isn’t it?”

He can only nod.

And you feel your fingers twitch where they were cradled in his much larger ones. Fuck. Here goes nothing…

“So that means I have to hold up my end of the bargain now, doesn’t it?”

Oh.

Gojo blinks.

Oh.

“Wait- so was it the body or the char-”

“Unless you finish that sentence right now. In that case I’m never speaking to you again.”

And shit, if you knew that this was the way to shut Gojo Satoru up then you’d have been wielding this power much, much sooner. Breath hitching when his plump, pinkish lips instantly zip shut, and he’s scrambling off the bed to kneel in front of you.

Kneel.

Gojo was kneeling in front of you, knees clacking to the floor so hard that you think it must hurt. But all that he wears on his expectant face is the rosiest of blushes, and the slight pucker of his lips when he leans in. “I-I’ll shut up- but can I have my kiss now?”

You couldn’t gift an answer even if your dizzy mind could somehow conjure up one.

Because with the slightest nod of your head - barely motioning even a few millimeters - Gojo’s crashing his lips onto yours like he was starved.

Like he didn’t want to breathe - didn’t need to - when his mouth was meshing against yours. Addicted from that faux kiss downstairs. Keening out a low whine at the very back of his throat, he’s gulping in steady heavals of your essence. Greedy hands circling your body-

“O-oh shit.” he kisses, mouth parting from yours ever-so-slightly because fuck, he had to breathe. But he’s completely and utterly sure that he could die happy right here and right now, lips firmly pressed against yours.

You’re half-heartedly sputtering, “We should– the party–”

“D-don’t talk to me about a fuckin’ party, pretty.” His teeth pull lewdly on your lower lip, “One more- that was a practice run. O-one m-”

This time, it’s you cutting him off.

Swallowing up the rest of Gojo’s sentence and forcing his body to wreck with a sudden bolting of lightning. And Gojo swears he tastes heaven on your lips, thumbing open your jaw further to pry out your lolling tongue and suck.

You moan out what sounds like a slurring string of his name over and over - praying that these walls were as soundproofed as they looked.

Fingers nimbling their way over to the first few open buttons of his shirt - the very graze of your skin down his burning one sends shots of electricity down Gojo’s body. It makes him jolt. It makes him drag in a heaving lungful. It makes his heavy palm drop its way to the curve of your ass and squeeze.

“Wait-” he’s drunken. Seething. Silvery strings of rope snapping in the heady lack of space between you two when Gojo pulls away. “-what’s it that they say- one more for luck?”

One more. And another. Another. Another and another and it’s still not enough even when Gojo’s mouth was throbbingly red and raw from crashing against yours, whimpering at the slightest wet glide of your candied lips across his.

Meshing in a sodden pucker he’s trailing his plumpened lips down the splatters of dribble that’d made its way down the corner of your mouth.

As lazy as his hands were, long digits drawing circular massages up, up, up your thigh. You’re gasping when the fat curve of his thumb nudges in through your drenched panties, drawing a sopping wet line down your teary slit.

“I think…” Cutting himself off to let his tongue slide out and lick a languid stripe down your drivel. “...think I needa hah- kiss those other lips of yours for good measure, sweetheart.”

Oh.

Fuck.

He looked like he was seconds from drooling at the very thought. Nervous energy bleeding into his words, making them sound almost like a whimper. Gojo Satoru wasn’t asking - he was begging on his knees right before you to eat out your pretty cunt.

Sharp inhales being sucked through his drunkenly parted lips when you slide your fingers through his sweat-soaked hair and pull. “Th-then you better make it worth all the trouble, Toru.”

Oh, his head tumbles backwards at the sound of that nickname on your lips once more.

Chuckling - chuckling - all humorless and crazed. Bleary eyes locked on you and only you, he doesn’t move them a singular inch once all the while dipping his fingerpads into the hem of your panties and pulling. Dragging out the drenched excuse of your panties, they’re splotching a glistening coating of your sweet, sweet juices down your thighs.

And Gojo only turns to look once he brings them eye-level - up to his face and-

“Toru, you’re so nasty–”

“Ya think?” Gojo huffs out through the slicked-up fabric of your underwear, breathing in your essence like it was his favorite scent. And you swear you catch him sneaking in a few droplets of your syrupy juices that splatter onto his mouth. Groaning, “Oh, sweetheart- m’gonna make you realize just how nasty I really am.”

Without any apologies, without any warning, your thoroughly hypnotized self is being shoved down roughly onto the mattress. You bounce a few times against the navy sheets, legs hiking up on autopilot - exactly the way that Gojo wanted them.

You really were made for him.

Mewling, “Wh-what-”

“Shhh sh sh-” he’s whispering out in ragged rasps, still pressing a few pretty pecks against the mound of your translucently glossed panties. It was taking everything in him to part- to set them down…Well, perhaps not that far. Gojo stuffs your panties mindlessly into the back pocket of his pants, tongue swiping a moisturized coating over his lips when he takes back in the sight of you. “M’talking to her.”

All splayed out on the bed for him - it was like all his dreams materialized into real life.

Literally.

“Oh, look how wet she is–” His creamy fingertips push up your dress to make such a slurring mess all over your pursed lips. On purpose. Swirling the edge of his manicured thumb over and over in the tiniest of circles over your pulsing clit. And Gojo snickers at how greedy she was for his attention…how cute. “-whaddaya think she’s ngh- tellin’ me, pretty?”

Rubbing your fists over your eyes, you’re seeing stars when Gojo’s rude digits give your clit a sudden pinch. “I-I don’t know–”

“Awww- are you sure?” You’re being showcased the most innocent pout you’ve seen him plaster on his entire life, lower lip jutting out and looming so dangerously close to kiss the drizzling trail at your puffy folds. “Because she’s so talkative to me- might jus’ be nicer than you.”

You wish you could snap back as you usually would - oh, how you wish.

But you’re sure that any and every noise that showers out from your dazed mouth wouldn’t even be heard. Because for one infuriating time in your life, Gojo was right.

Those sugar-coated squelches from your dripping cunt replayed in your ears over and over. Every teasing pattern of Gojo’s fingertips has you rambling in a saturated song that sticks to your ears like cotton. And Gojo couldn’t get enough.

He couldn’t stop.

He couldn’t falter no matter how much he wanted to keep up this ever-cracking facade of being suave. Heeding to practically every word from your pretty pussy when his heated mouth gruffs closer and kisses you.

Slow. Filthy.

“T-Toru–” you’re whining, your fingers entangling with his snowy locks. And no matter how hard you tug, Gojo doesn’t move even an inch. “-make sure you ngh- b-breathe- fuck-”

“Don’t need to..don’t- don’t need it…” Gojo’s slurring out into your saccharine pussy lips, intentionally dragging out his words so that they vibrate all down your spine.

Button nose massaging against your ample clit, the decadent room rings! with a sultry squelch. And you’re peeking down at that sinful sight of Gojo’s tongue smearing your puffed-up pussy lips agape. Swiping around and around the circular hole of your entrance before plunging in-

Oh.

Gojo looked like he was so in bliss.

Eyes sliding all the way to the back of his head with one taste of your bawling cunt on his tongue- shit. Shit.

Shit shit shit. He’s out of control when he gasps, two hands curling under and around your thighs to haul you down the bed. Maw hanging ferally open when he’s gashing your poor pussy with the most sodden French kisses - Gojo’s never kissed a person like this before. And he doesn’t think he ever will - other than you.

Doesn’t think he’ll ever feel as feverish as he does right now when he’s craning his deft fingers into his mouth. Sucking. Tasting. Each and every one with a messy pop! pop! pop!

He really was nasty.

You gape at the way your slick hangs all down his lips and coats a sparkling glaze that drips down his chin and forms a little pool at his neck. His collarbones. Trickling down with pearly beads of sweat that sift between his perky pecs so mouthwateringly.

“F-fuuuuck-” Gojo’s hissing, brows scrunching together like he couldn’t even believe what he was seeing. “You jus’ got ngh- wetter. S-so much wetter…”

It’s said like a prayer.

Like a plea because your cunt was driving Gojo crazy.

“It’s all because of ah- you–” You squirm at the way that these were the words tumbling from your mouth. And you already know that Gojo was about to tease you for this for the next few years - if he even remembered, that is.

Because just about the only thing that he can do right now is twirl the edges of his fingers over your winking hole. Once. Twice. Before feeding you inch by long inch of his middle finger - in your lusty haze you think you manage to count about six inches from his staggering size.

And it only had you imagining his size down below.

“Don’t squeeze around m-me- fuck who am I kidding-” Gojo’s sleazy pumps of his hand has your cunt slobbering all down to his working wrist. Adding in one more, two. “-drool all over me- make a mess- hah- fuckin’ ruin me.” Mouth bumbling a mile a minute when his drives build up sloppily, swiveling around your gummy walls to nudge over all your tenderized sweet spots. “Yeah- heh- yeah suck me up like that. S-such a slutty girl, aren’t ya?”

“S-stop being so-”

So what?

Talkative with your cunt? So greedy when he shovels his face back in between your tottering thighs? So heated when he utters. Like a death sentence. All that he could. “I-I can’t stop- do you know how long I’ve ah- imagined this? Dreamt of this?”

Your palm constrict on his silky strands and Gojo’s so pliant when he lets himself be rummaged even deeper against your pussy. So ready to be used. “Th-think I like you better when you ngh- shut up–”

And even through it all, Gojo finds it in himself to roll his eyes - though, you think it’s a way to disguise the way he’s agonizingly swimming in euphoria more than anything. Chuckling out wetly, “Th-think I like it better when you’re ah- actually on m’tongue and n-not jus’ in my fuck- dreams when I have my cock in hand.”

Shit.

He’s so shameless.

Fingers jackhammering in and out in and out in and out-

“Where is it-” he’s spitting out into your squirming pussy, the lower half of your body being pinned to the mattress with one of his strong arms. You’re feeling the way his biceps bulge against your skin. Getting faster. Faster. “-where is it where is it where-”

“What are you even ngh- looking for, Toru?” you’re crying out - it was all so much now. So close.

But the only answer you get are your ankles being tugged to wrap around Gojo’s fervent head, pinned with one hand behind his back. “Lock it.” Keeping you held there until the ends of your feet knot as vice-like as possible to mash his face into your drooling cunt.

Gojo wraps his rose pink lips around your weepy clit and sucks through furrowed brows when his thorough digits surge upwards at a bruising pace into a bulbous magical spot. That spot.

“Found it.”

And you find yourself cumming with such a loud yelp of Gojo’s name - throat rubbing sore with every peak of your high. Your orgasm crashes into you over and over as he laps up every bead, every splatter, every drop that you’re giving.

And he’s still parched.

Spitting out a wet slew of saliva into your quavering hole, Gojo’s making such a mess of you. Absolutely ruined when he sucks up every wet smear that waterfalls from your cute cunt - so thirsty.

It’s only when your high has died down to a few tingles, when your limbs twitch with overstimulation, that Gojo finds himself pulling away. His lips stinging rawly, nose slicked and dripping with your sweet, sweet juices - you’re hearing the most pained grunt from between your legs as he pulls away.

It hurt him to.

“Oh, w-would ya look at that—”

You weren’t sure if you trusted him enough to look - already knowing that whatever it was would have your mind reeling.

But how could you not when Gojo’s fat fingertips squeeze your cheeks together into a pathetic pout, opening your glazed mouth just wide enough for him to salivate. A thick wad of spit hitting your lolling tastebuds, his thumb swipes over the stray slops that’d made their home on the corner of your slack jaw.

He grins, “I said look, sweetheart…”

Groaning, your eyes blink downwards - and you weren’t even sure what you were witnessing at first. Not even sure if you were daydreaming - because Gojo had his black dress pants unbuttoned. Shoved down until his thick, milky thighs just enough for you to witness his massive length.

Yeah, his fingers were definitely an indicator of something.

Because Gojo was so big that you felt nervous. His length swollen and thickened to an incredible girth. All pretty with a red, rotund ruby tip that blushes a cute strawberry pink all the way down, down, down until neatly trimmed tufts of white at his base. Saddling his tight, hefty balls that looked much too heavy.

He made your mouth water.

But that wasn’t all - no, what really catches your eye and snaps you from your orgasmic haze and into a half-lucid state were the creamy rings upon rings that laminated his shaft. Frosting-like dredges of cum sliding lazily down his angry cock, spurting out a few more from his weepy divot at the very end at your unwavering attention. Did he-

“Yes.” Gojo gasps out in a condensed puff, his voice sugary and embarrassed. Shit, did you just say that out loud? “I-I came just from…you’re just so-”

Damn, he curses his stupidly babbling mouth. So drunk on you that he can’t voice all the sinful thoughts sprinting through his melty head right now - all the thoughts that have been already for years now.

It was impossible - even for his big fat mouth.

So without another word, Gojo tuts as he’s rolling his shoulders as if on instinct to pop a few joints; in one, fluid motion your body is being sidled into such an easy princess carry.

Patting you down right into the cushiony middle of the bed, he looms over you - stalks over to you. And you can’t deny that the absolutely feral smile twisting his features makes your cunt twitch.

“Too many clothes.” Gojo tugs on your dress - that darkened glint in his eyes not boding well for you or-

RIP!

-for this dress.

At the sight of your jaw dropping in adorable surprise, he chuckles out a rough, “Don’t worry- I’ll buy ya that again. I’ll buy ya the ngh- whole fuckin’ store jus–” And oh with a few masterful flicks of his fingers on your bra, you’re left in nothing underneath him. Nothing to hide your perfect body away from the way he was fucking you with his half-lidded eyes. “-just let me f-fuck this cute cunt, please?”

It takes you a few sloppy seconds of Gojo nibbling down your neck for you to realize that he’s waiting for you. For anything.

Huffing, your shaky fingers clench around the glaringly open lapels of his button-up. “S’unfair th-that you’re the only one in clothes-”

And, well, who was Gojo Satoru against you?

You’re demandingly helping him shrug off that branded shirt, buttons hitting the ground, his pants hitting the floor-

“Whoops.” Gojo grins sheepishly when his pants and those tight boxers collapse onto the floor in a tatter of fabric and your panties. “Jus’ consider it a uh- birthday gift, pretty–”

No longer having his flaps of fabric to reel him in by, your fingernails dig neat little patterns of crescents on his heated skin as you drag him down to you. Heady breaths mingling with one another, “You said no gifts, remember? If you ngh- really want those panties- y-you’re gonna hafta earn it, Toru.”

And earn it he will.

Because as soon as the bulging spherical shape of his fat head swipes a sopping kiss down your pussy lips, you feel yourself already moan. He was so hot.

Already so pussydrunken when he says, “Hope ya don’t mind–” Teeth sinking into your tender earlobe, “-this is my first time.”

Fuck.

You barely even have the mindpower to register those words before you’re being split apart - gasping at the almost-unnatural feeling of being so thoroughly full. Of having our steamingly hot insides being fucked open with just the simple tip of Gojo’s staggering cock.

“C’mon- c’mon–” He’s lunging up in slow, mindless gyrations trying to force his thick length inside. Powerful arms keeping your wrangling legs spanned wide open for him, they barely even let you budge. Biting down on his lip in frustration, “F-fit inside- shit, your pussy’s so tight, sweetheart– s’it too big for you?”

Stubbornly, “No-”

And Gojo only has to glissade the curves of his palm down to that inflationary nudge of where he was drilling into your cunt. “No?”

“...no.”

Pressing down. Hard. “No?”

“Fuck- yes- you’re just too big-” And you meant it as a complaint - you really did. But those words only have every ounce of blood remaining in Gojo’s shivering body galloping down to his gluttonous cock. Pushing at the seams to make him expand even fatter, bigger- “Why are you getting bigger?”

Shit, you really needed to watch that mouth of yours.

Because it has Gojo’s hulking body falling onto two elbows on either side of your head, like a heavenly cage you didn’t ever want to get out of.

Sweat-simmered forehead bumping into yours, you feel his large fingers interlace dangerously on top of your head. “You need to-” He’s crashing his lips against yours in such a filthy open-mouthed kiss. “-s-stop talkin’ outta ya ngh- pussy. Leave that to her.”

Her.

And you’re so utterly distracted by all his little ministrations that you didn’t even realize the way he was snugly fitting himself into your cunt.

The stretch is impeccable when it hits you like a train at full speed, feeling the tiny nooks and crannies of your magical spots being brushed up against the thrumming upright curve of Gojo’s cock. He’s leaving no millimeter of your elastic walls unturned, unstretched. Untainted.

Gushing out a sweltering hot wave of buttery pre that sloshes all the way against your womb. “Oh- oh what the fuck-” Gojo hisses, chest heaving. And if you didn’t know any better you’d have wondered if he was in pain. “-what the fuck- th-this is what you feel like?”

Right - shit. In all the chaos, you’d forgotten those words he’d confessed just earlier - Gojo Satoru was a virgin. Because of course, he was. Don’t make him laugh, who else would he have ever wanted to see him like this other than you?

A virgin that was currently pacing his slender hips back and forth to instrument the most syrupy squelches from the very gooey bottom of your cunt. His drooling mouth spreading wider and wider with every sultry half-thrust.

You mewl, “H-how does it feel, Satoru?”

“I-I feels so- so–” But the words are failing him - the words are escaping him with every gummy squeeze of your walls like you wanted to swallow down more and more of his solid inches. And hand on your hips swirls your hips around ever-so-slightly to feel his sobbing tip paint tiny circles of gluey precum inside you. Gojo snaps his eyes open - wild. “-is it even l-legal to have ya cunt feel this good, sweetheart? This- oh! Heavenly?”

And he was sounding genuinely concerned. Genuinely worried for his sanity once Gojo manages to feed your needy cunt all of his length.

Now in.

Fully.

And it feels too good - too blissful to have almost every single prayer in his life finally answered that Gojo can’t help but scrunch his eyes shut and cum.

Loudly. Pathetically.

One hand dancing downwards to give your plump clit a punishing little squeeze as if it was your fault. The other curling around your throat to have you meshing your mouth with his panting one, you can feel it in the vibrations how his voice cracks at the very same second your gooey cunt is filled with such copious dumps of his seed.

There’s so much.

As if he’s cumming and cumming harder than he has in his entire life, every splatter of stifling hot cum managing to paint the bullseye of your g-spot in pure white. Ounces of his seed creaming around his hefty base, it smears and slide around your thighs as Gojo continues to fuck you into the mattress. Pound after pound that make him see overstimulated stars.

And it makes Gojo giggle - giggle - head lolling deliriously into the crook of your neck, now covered in a slather of his drool. Every slow ram into your splurging cunt has him grunting out the tiniest ah! ah! ah!

“Shit- fuckin’ embarrassing-” You hear him groan into your neck, licking a languid column from his tongue before biting. Hard. Hard enough that you’re wondering whether he’d draw blood, “Can ya believe- s-saved my virginity for the ngh- girl of my dreams n’ m’cumming already~?”

He leaves a few final pecks against your lips, “Th-this pussy’s got me too haaaah- addicted, pretty–” As he’s moving to part sloppy ways, you’re gasping at the splatter! of something warm. Wet. And only then do you register the literal tears crinkling at his eyes from overstimulation. Crying.

“A-are you okay– Satoru?” You’re whining, limp fingers skimming away the strands of white that cling to his prespired forehead.

“No.” Comes the answer, comes the heaving gasp when Gojo’s fatigued limbs force themselves through his trembling muscles to heave back upright. “One m-more. That was a practice run.” Throwing your legs over his broad shoulders, you feel his flexing deltoids underneath you when Gojo brings one ankle up to his mouth and kisses. Muttering - more to himself than anything. “B-but m’gonna make y’feel good- oh- fuck- m’gonna make you t-take this big cock.”

His words have you just as stupidly fucked as his fat shaft does.

Those lightning bolts of his veins thump down the upperside of your goopy channel, massaging your sweet spots over and over and-

“Th-think it was here-” Gojo’s palms feel everywhere and anywhere down your tummy for the vicious back and forth of him inside you. To feel that bulging opening, the way your snug channel clenches every time his bouncy tip recoils back from your cervix. Wanting more more more- “-or w-was it- here.”

“Fuck!” The entire expanse of your spine arches off of those thoroughly and filthily dampened sheets now, meshing up sluttily into Gojo’s body until his prespiry-glossed abs cushion your front, plush pecs so comfortably collapsing on top of you. “There- there there hngh- more-”

“More-” Gojo chuckles, hitting that precious spot over and over. His chubby head mashes in slurping soppy collisions until he was out of breath. Dizzy. “More she says- Greedy girl, wh-when you have me already ngh- dripping out of you. Shit- squeezin’ me so. Oh-”

And his vigorous fingers scoop up such lecherous volumes of his own milky cum, toying with the gushing waves of white your poor pussy leaks with every pound.

He’s bullying them between your lips - cerulean eyes dilating, mouth sagging unsealed when you eagerly suck on his digits. Tasting his candied self, tasting you. Somehow managing to muffle out, “M-m’not greedy.”

Gojo can only grin, “S-say that to me when this oh- cunt of yours isn’t sucking the fuckin’ soul outta me.”

And Gojo would love to tease you more for this - to mouth away for hours on end into your ear about how drenched you were getting and muse out loud whether you’d dreamt of this just as much as he has, too.

But instead, he’s pecking a flurry of lovely kisses all down your face. Gasping into your lips, “M-move that pretty hand f’me-” So rudely swatting those fingers of yours that’d snuck their way down to toy with your neglected clit, Gojo’s taking over himself to rub steady, methodical circles. Thumb peeking pressure on the hood of your clit just the way he’d read online. “-I’ve always w-wanted to ah- do this. To fuck you raw. T-to ruin you and ngh- fill you up-” As his words spill, so do a few ropey wads of pre. More. Frequent. “-a-and eat you out all over again. See how you taste like mine…”

“Y-you’re gonna-” You can’t even bring yourself to say it. “Again?”

“Of course, sweetheart- why? Scared I- oh.”

That’s when he does it - the mistake of peering his barely-open eyes down.

His weightily smacking balls that smooch against your ass with each thrust clench oh-so-painfully at the vision of your puffed-up pussy lips gaping around him. Drooling. Swallowing. Accommodating his ruthless cock for all you can, practically broken in half and still yearning for more.

Shit, the sight’s so hypnotic that Gojo doesn’t even realize when he’s letting his thoroughly overwhelmed body lock into yours like a puzzle piece. So hefty and sculpted.

His abs practically melting into your body, and his sloppy hips pistoning into you even deeper. Harsher. Every raring grind of Gojo’s lengthy shaft probes into your g-spot so hard. Like he wanted to leave widely battered bruises of his circumference on your sweetened spots, your cervix, anywhere and everywhere he could reach. Like he couldn’t stop.

Doesn’t even know the very word right about now in this filthy, filthy mating press. “C’mon- c’mon one more for ah- luck?” Whimpering, “My sweetheart, I-I’m gonna-”

Gojo sees white when he cums once more this night - and you do, too.

You’re not sure if it’s because of the violent streaks of electricity that run down your entire body, or because of the treacly spurts of cum that overspill from your poor cunt. But fuck- did it feel so good.

Your entire body tingles all the way down from your toes up to your bleary head - and the entire room feels like it’s fucking spinning at this point.

Black tinging your vision with ever overfilling thwack! of Gojo’s tight, cum-filled balls as they empty out, out, out into your depths. It’s coating your insides like a sticky second skin, leaving stringy drizzles of seed seeping from between your slit. Adding to the ever-growing puddle before.

You’re feeling it swashing around you with every drivel of his hips. Overstuffing your elastic walls until you felt like they were about to burst.

And all you can do is simply grapple your nails into the bulging muscles on Gojo’s back, whimpering out a broken, “T-Toru–”

“M’here I-I’m here–” Yet his voice sounds airy, hitching like he was on cloud nine. A beefy arm wraps around your body and manhandles you close to him like some sort of ragdoll, “M’here- shit-” His lips graze against yours in what you assume must be a kiss, too oversensitive to even perk his head up and peck you senseless like you knew he wanted to. “Never lettin’ ya go- haaah- never- ah-”

Whatever promises Gojo always imagined whispering into your ear can be said and done later.

Right now, the only thing he can streamline his body into doing for him is to search blindly for his discarded pants by the side of the bed. Searching for that bulge in the back pocket- no, not the panties he’d swiped right in front of you - instead, he’s feeling for the shape of his wallet.

Pulling your tired body back into his, Gojo’s carding it lazily open to show you that.

Exactly what they were talking about.

Splayed out proudly in the front and center of his wallet was a picture of the two of you. Years and years ago exactly on this date, the aged photograph showed a smiling Gojo Satoru in front of a candlelit birthday cake, tiny cheeks all pinkened. A small, surly you standing by his side - eyeing his Digimon hat more than you were eyeing the camera.

But that didn’t matter, because Gojo wasn’t looking at the camera, either.

He was looking at you - exactly the way he was right now.

Glowy eyes half-lidded, a mysterious little smile playing on his lips. Gojo nuzzles his face against yours and breathes out a tiny, “I…I might have loved you ever since then, y’know that?”

You’re gasping, eyes shining with…something. And Gojo’s heart stutters as he wants to find out. Wringing your hands to wrap around his broad chest, you’re coiling your legs together until you’re unsure where one ends and the other starts.

Whispering three lovely words into his ear - and three more into the honeyed air.

“Happy birthday, Satoru.”

---

Gojo’s one wish was to wake up next to you - like this. Under soft blankets, with your sleepy breath puffing softly into his collarbone, your body tucked safely into his.

And he never wants to let go - could never even dream of anything that could ruin this precious moment-

“Mind explaining who ordered wedding decor last night on MY account?”

Ah, that would do it.

Bleary blue eyes wrench open, taking Gojo every shred of will in his body to not jolt at the unwelcome greeting of Shoko peering down at him…while he was all wrapped up with his best friend’s sister in a bedroom that could almost be mistaken for a crime scene.

Would it really be too late of a birthday wish to hope that she hadn’t noticed your tattered clothes on the floor, the ruined state of the sheets, and the way that the bedframe sagged suspiciously on one side?

Gulping, he’s pressing your body even tighter into his, careful not to let you stir - well, at least it couldn’t get worse than this-

Footsteps.

Close.

And an unmistakable few voices - and laughter. “Is that my sist- SATORU, YOU BASTARD-”

“Eugh.”

“WHAT did you blackmail her with?”

“Woahhh- congratulations on your relationship!”

A/N. Lowkey has the spirit of a crackfic, I fear. This was SAUR fun.

Plagiarism not authorized.

#gojo x reader #gojo smut #gojo x you #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk #jjk fic #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #tonywrites

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phoenixyfriend · 1 month ago

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Ko-fi prompt from @liberwolf:

Could you explain Tariff's , like who pays them and what they do to a country?

Well, I can definitely guess where this question is coming from.

Honestly, I was pretty excited to get this prompt, because it's one I can answer and was part of my studies focus in college. International business was my thing, and the issues of comparative advantage (along with Power Purchasing Parity) were one of the things I liked to explore.

-----------------

At their simplest, tariffs are an import tax. The United States has had tariffs as low as 5%, and at other times as high as 44% on most goods, such as during the Civil War. The purpose of a tariff is in two parts: generating revenue for the government, and protectionism.

Let's first explore how a tariff works. If you want to be confused, then you need to have never taken an economics class, and look at this graph:

(src)

So let's undo that confusion.

The simplest examples are raw or basic materials such as steel, cotton, or wine.

First, without tariffs:

Let us say that Country A and Country B both produce steel, and it is of similar quality, and in both cases cost $100 per unit. Transportation from one country to the other is $50/unit, so you can either buy domestically for $100, or internationally for $150. So you buy domestically.

Now, Country B discovers a new place to mine iron very easily, and so their cost for steel drops to $60/unit due to increased ease of access. Country A can either purchase domestically for $100, or internationally for $110 (incl. shipping), which is much more even. Still, it is more cost-effective to purchase domestically, and so Country A isn't worried.

Transportation technology is improved, dropping the shipping costs to $30/unit. A person from Country A can buy: Domestic: $100 International: $60+$30 = $90 Purchasing steel from Country B is now cheaper than purchasing it from Country A, regardless of where you live.

Citizens in Country A, in order to reduce costs for domestic construction, begin to purchase their steel from Country B. As a result, money flows from Country A to B, and the domestic steel industry in Country A begins to feel the strain as demand dwindles.

In this scenario, with no tariffs, Country A begins to rely on B for their steel, which causes a loss of jobs (steelworkers, miners), loss of infrastructure (closing of mines and factories), and an outflow of funds to another country. As a result, Country A sees itself as losing money to B, while also growing increasingly reliant on their trading partner for the crucial good that is steel. If something happens to drive up the price of B's steel again, like political upheaval or a natural disaster, it will be difficult to quickly ramp up the production of steel in Country A's domestic facilities again.

What if a tariff is introduced early?

Alternately, the dropping of complete costs for purchase of steel from Country B could be counteracted with tariffs. Let's say we do a 25% tariff on that steel. This tariff is placed on the value of the steel, not the end cost, so:

$60 + (0.25 x $60) + $30 = $105/unit

Suddenly, with the implementation of a 25% tariff on steel from Country B, the domestic market is once again competitive. People can still buy from Country B if they would like, but Country A is less worried about the potential impacts to the domestic market.

The above example is done in regards to a mature market that has not yet begun to dwindle. The infrastructure and labor is still present, and is being preemptively protected against possible loss of industry to purchasing abroad.

What happens if the tariff is not implemented until after the market has dwindled?

Let's say that the domestic market was not protected by the tariff until several decades on. Country A's domestic production, in response to increased purchasing from abroad, has dwindled to one third of what it was before the change in pricing incentivized purchase from B. Prices have, for the sake of keeping this example simple, remained at $100(A) and $60(B) in that time. However, transportation has likely become better, so transportation is down to $20, meaning that total cost for steel from B is $80, accelerating the turn from domestic steel to international.

So, what happens if you suddenly implement a tariff on international steel? Shall we say, 40%?

$60 + (0.4 x 60) + 20 = $104

It's more expensive to order from abroad! Wow! Let's purchase domestically instead, because these prices add up!

But the production is only a third of what it used to be, and domestic mines and factories for refining the iron into steel can't keep up. They're scaling, sure, but that takes time. Because demand is suddenly triple of the supply, the cost skyrockets, and so steel in Country A is now $150/unit! The price will hopefully come down eventually, as factories and mines get back in gear, but will the people setting prices let that happen?

So industries that have begun to rely on international steel, which had come to $80/unit prior to the tariff, are facing the sudden impact of a cost increase of at least $25/unit (B with tariff) or the demand-driven price increase of domestic (nearly double the pre-tariff cost of steel from B), which is an increase of at least 30% what they were paying prior to the tariff.

There are possible other aspects here, such as government subsidies to buoy the domestic steel industry until it catches back up, or possibly Country B eating some of the costs so that people still buy from them (selling for $50 instead of $60 to mitigate some of the price hike, and maintain a loyal customer base), but that's not a direct impact of the tariff.

Who pays for tariffs?

Ultimately, this is a tax on a product (as opposed to a tax on profits or capital themselves, which has other effects), which means the majority of the cost is passed on directly to the consume.

As I said, we could see the producers in Country B cut their costs a little bit to maintain a loyal customer base, but depending on their trade relationships with other countries, they are just as likely to stop trading with Country A altogether in order to focus on more profitable markets.

So why do we not put tariffs on everything?

Well... for that, we get into the question of production efficiency, or in this case, comparative advantage.

Let's say we have two small, neighboring countries, C and D, that have negligible transportation costs and similar industries. Both have extensive farmland, and both have a history of growing grapes for wine, and goats for wool. Country C is a little further north than D, so it has more rocky grasses that are good for goats, while D has more fertile plains that are good for growing grapes.

Let's say that they have an equal workforce of 500,000 of people. I'm going to say that 10,000 people working full time for a year is 1 unit of labor. So, Country C and Country D have between the 100 units of labor, and 50 each.

The cost of 1 unit of wool = the cost of 1 unit of wine

Country C, having better land for goats, can produce 4 units of wool for every unit of labor, and 2 units of wine for every unit of labor.

Meanwhile, Country D, having better land for grapes, can produce 2 units of wool per unit of labor, and 4 units of wine per unit of labor.

If they each devote exactly half their workforce to each product, then:

Country C: 100 units of wool, 50 units of wine Country D: 50 units of wool, 100 units of wine

Totaling 150 units of each product.

However, if each devotes all of their workforce to the product they're better at...

Country C: 200 units of wool, no wine Country D: no wool, 200 units of wine

and when they trade with each other, they each end up with 100 units of each product, which is a doubling of what their less-efficient labor would have resulted in!

The real world is obviously much more complicated, but in this example, we can see the pros of outsourcing some of your production to another country to focus on your own specialties.

Extreme examples of this IRL are countries where most of the economy rests on one product, such as middle-eastern petro-states that are now struggling to diversify their economies in order to not get left behind in the transition to green energy, or Taiwan's role as the world's primary producer of semiconductors being its 'silicon shield' against China.

Comparative advantage can be used well, such as our Unnamed Countries (that are definitely not the classic example of England and Portugal, with goats instead of sheep) up in the example. With each economy focusing on its specialty, there is a greater yield of both products, meaning a greater bounty for both countries.

However, should something happen to Country C up there, like an earthquake that kills half the goats, they are suddenly left with barely enough wool to clothe themselves, and nothing for Country D, which now has a surplus of wine and no wool.

So you do have to keep some domestic industry, because Bad Things Can Happen. And if we want to avoid the steel example of a collapse in the given industry, tariffs might be needed.

Are export tariffs a thing?

Yes, but they are much rarer, and can largely be defined as "oh my god, everyone please stop getting rid of this really important resource by selling it to foreigners for a big buck, we are depleting this crucial resource."

So what's the big confusion right now?

Donald Trump has, on a number of occasions, talked about 'making China pay' tariffs on the goods they import into the US. This has led to a belief that is not entirely unreasonable, that China would be the side paying the tariffs.

The view this statement engenders is that a tariff is a bit like paying a rental fee for a seller's table at an event: the producer or merchant pays the host (or landlord or what have you) a fee to sell their product on the premises. This could be a farmer's market, a renaissance faire, a comic book convention, whatever. If you want to sell at the event, you have to pay a fee to get a space to set up your table.

In the eyes of the people who listened to Trump, the tariff is that fee. China is paying the United States for access to the market.

And, technically, that's not entirely wrong. China is thus paying to enter the US market. It's just the money to pay that fee needs to come from somewhere, and like most taxes on goods, that fee comes from the consumer.

So... what now?

Well, a lot of smaller US companies that rely on cheap goods made in China are buying up non-perishables while they can, before the tariffs hit. Long-term, manufacturers in the US that rely on parts and tools manufactured in China are going to feel the squeeze once that frontloaded stock is depleted.

Some companies are large enough to take the hit on their own end, still selling at cheap rates to the consumer, because they can offset those costs with other parts of their empire... at least until smaller competitors are driven out of business, at which point they can start jacking up their prices since there are no options left. You may look at that and think, "huh, isn't that the modus operandi for Walmart and Amazon already?" and yes. It is. We are very much anticipating a 'rich get richer, poor go out of business' situation with these tariffs.

The tariffs will also impact larger companies, including non-US ones like Zara (Spanish) and H&M (Swedish), if they have a huge reliance on Chinese production to supply their huge market in the United States.

If you're interested in the repercussions that people expect from these proposed tariffs on Chinese goods, I'd suggest listening to or watching the November 8th, 2024 episode of Morning Brew Daily (I linked to YouTube, but it's also available on Spotify, Nebula, the Morning Brew website, and other podcast platforms).

#id in alt text #id in alt #economics #tariffs #import tax #customs #customs duties #ko fi prompts #capitalism #phoenix talks #ko fi #taxes #taxation

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superiorsturgeon · 6 months ago

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out of curiosity, why do you like sturgeons so much?

A chance to info dump about my favorite fish…?!

I grew up in the Great Lakes area of North America, where fishing is pretty popular but everyone knows that fish populations aren’t anything like “the good old days” when people took out huge numbers of fish while messing up their spawning sites. I got pretty into fishing when I found out that I could catch bluegill in the surrounding farm ponds, and once in a while my family took me to an isolated fishing cabin for vacation, but for years I never encountered a wild fish bigger than a kilogram or two.

BUT THEN…

I found out about sturgeon! They were HUGE fish that had once lived in the rivers and lakes all around my home, and better yet, fish almost exactly like modern sturgeon had existed all the way back in the Cretaceous period alongside the dinosaurs, and they STILL EXIST TODAY!!! The fact that small numbers of these huge dinosaur fish still existed made them seem almost like a real-life lake monster/cryptid, except that we had proof of their existence!

Furthermore, there’s just nothing else like them. Sturgeon get big. Like, REALLY big. The record for the largest sturgeon was almost 11 meters/24 feet long, which is colossal for freshwater animals. They have armor plates of bone running down their sides, and at the same time they don’t have bony skeletons. They also have a crazy mouth structure, which allows them to actually pop their jaws out like a tube and suck up food. And on top of all of this, the adults are absolute tanks. I’ve seen skin nearly 8mm thick, and it’s so tough that people make leather out of it, and they occasionally lose fins or even entire gill plates and just keep on swimming! (I found out about that last one when I tried to wrestle a big female out of a river and my hand went straight into her gills. She didn’t seem that bothered by it!)

For a long time I filed sturgeon along with Alligator Gar, Giant Mekong catfish, and Yangtze paddlefish as a semi-legendary fish that may still exist, but I was never going to see except possibly in an aquarium, until I enrolled in graduate school. For those unfamiliar with grad school in the US, it typically involves both high-level classes as well as an independent research project the student designs and carries out with help from an experienced professor. When my mentor asked what kind of thing I wanted to study, I tossed out “sturgeon” as one such possibility, expecting to hear that I would probably have to limit myself to more common/accessible species.

I was blown away when she said “Actually, I think I know a guy…”

For the next several years, I got to ride along collecting wild adult sturgeon, gathering eggs, and raising the baby fish in a lab and in a hatchery. I was holding something that I had thought of as a semi-mythical lake/river monster in my own hands! I got to see a river choked with giants as big as 2 meters long, and I got to hold a 5-centimeters mottled baby whose armored scutes were still sharp and possessed the little arrowhead shape and big black pectoral fins that remind me of Mickey Mouse ears! In the video below you can even see a little heartbeat! (Don’t worry, this little guy was returned to the tank soon after to recover from his anesthesia!)

Sadly, I didn’t find anything super groundbreaking in my research, but my experience DID land me a job working in sturgeon aquaculture! If you’ve ever had caviar that wasn’t poached, it probably came from a sturgeon farm, and if you want to see a lot of big fish up close, this is a good place to do it! I probably personally handled more individual sturgeon than there are wild fish in several sturgeon species. In addition, while the wild broodstock I mentioned above might reach 2 meters and over 50kg, the sturgeon I dealt with at the farm would easily double that, and there were a LOT of them! I got to see sturgeon behavior that had never been recorded in field guides, and even a few crazy one-in-a-million mutations like the infamous “ghost” sturgeon!

I even got the opportunity to cook my own sturgeon meat (Yeah, I basically turned into the Touden siblings from Dungeon Meshi except for sturgeon instead of RPG monsters). I got pretty good at making smoked sturgeon, but the meat is also good on the grill or baked, and people have been cooking them in various ways for centuries.

My favorite part of the job was physically wrestling the big fish! Sturgeon are easier to grab than other fish with the right know-how, but a human-sized fish often has its own plans for the day and won’t always cooperate. I was pretty good at moving the adults by the time I left that job, but it was still a wild rodeo every time!

Even more exciting was how we spawned each new generation of sturgeon. In the wild, they form massive spawning runs in big rivers that in the past would be enough to tip small boats, but in a lab or farm we have to use other means. I’ll spare you the details, but I am one of a small number of people who have surgically extracted eggs from a live sturgeon and sutured them back up to swim another day.

The tldr of this essay is that sturgeon are a big, crazy-unique fish that have been around a long time, and I’ve spent a lot of my career handling and working with them. There’s just nothing like them for a fish nerd and they’re damn cool!

(Clip art not mine, I think @sturgeonposting drew or shared it!)

#sturgeon asks #white sturgeon #lake sturgeon #sturgeon fish #sturgeon

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yyuangss · 7 months ago

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GIRL TALK ! ( STAR RAIL MEN )

SUMMARY ! march 7th finds out you like someone. and as your best friend, it’s only right that she has to give her input on whether or not she approves of him.

NOTES ! i was in the mood to write something but this was last minute and this was all i could come up with 🤺 may do a part two featuring other star rail men but we will see. part two of girl talk (gepard, dr. ratio, aventurine, and boothill)

TAGS ! reader is not the trailblazer. contains dan heng, caelus, sampo koski, jing yuan, and argenti. feelings are mutual on both ends.

march 7th’s thoughts on . . . DAN HENG !

immediately tells you that she already had her suspicions. and now that you confirmed it, it makes her all that more excited. you having a crush on dan heng is just what she expected. she’ll go on and on about how you two would make a great couple because he opens up more to you. now she gets a little sneaky and begins to make up excuses whenever missions come around so that the two of you can go together. it’s her own way of being a mastermind. the more time you two spend together, the closer she is to seeing you and dan heng start dating. yes, march has dubbed herself as your personal wingwoman. so is the duty of being your best friend.

march 7th’s thoughts on . . . CAELUS !

of course she finds it cute that you have a crush on caelus. and it all makes sense to her now. she constantly hears you and caelus making the same kind of jokes, watches you two play games together on your phones, and on rare occasions, she’ll find you rummaging through trash cans with caelus. though she doesn’t know why you’d go to such lengths and go through the trash cans with him. admitting your feelings for the newest trailblazer will only make march relentlessly tease you about it in the best way possible. so whenever caelus invites you to join him in whatever shenanigan he has planned for the day, she’ll send a quick wink your way.

march 7th’s thoughts on . . . SAMPO KOSKI !

she’s mentally judging you. definitely finds this as a “to each their own” type of situation. out of everyone you guys have met, the one you have feelings for is sampo. march isn’t too fond of him despite how much he has helped them during their time in belobog. she does have a few doubts here and there, but if he’s currently the one who you’re interested in, she’ll go along with it. march has to observe the way he acts before making any big decisions like setting you two up. she can tell the feeling’s mutual by the overly flirtatious comments sent your way or gifts you receive by sampo when visiting belobog again. she’ll sometimes peek over your shoulder and see some messages coming in from him, asking when you’ll come back to see him. she could grow used to him so let her work her magic and you’ll be with him in no time.

march 7th’s thoughts on . . . JING YUAN !

the general of the luofu is a tough decision. although she believes he’s a great choice considering his high rank and popularity, it’s also a bit of a downfall. she saw some heavy chemistry between you both back when the express was currently at the luofu. she didn’t have enough time to make some comments but she knew you’d end up having some sort of feelings towards him. she’s only worried about the cons that could come. like the fact jing yuan can become a busy man within seconds. would he make enough time for you? no, he needs to because someone like you deserves it. march refuses to let her best friend settle for anything less than what she’s worth. march can trust that you’ll be in good hands with jing yuan.

march 7th’s thoughts on . . . ARGENTI !

it’s a very interesting choice in her opinion. though she understands why you’d end up gaining feelings towards him. it had to be that compliment he gave you the very first time the express met him. “a beauty that was sent by the goddess idrila herself for him to praise”. very poetical that it had the entire crew speechless for a few seconds. march hasn’t stopped bringing it up since that happened because you had never gotten that flustered before. she can only imagine all the other compliments argenti has sent your way when they’re not around. whenever you’re smiling at your phone a little too hard, thinking no one is watching, she’ll head over your way asking if your boyfriend’s the one making you all smiley. march doesn’t even need to be your wingwoman for this one. she knows the knight will handle it all on his own.

#@ 𝐘𝐘𝐔𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐒𝐒 ★ ⸻ 𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐊𝐀𝐈: 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑 𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐋 #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail fluff #dan heng x reader #dan heng x you #caelus x reader #sampo koski x reader #sampo x reader #jing yuan x reader #jing yuan x you #argenti x reader #hsr argenti x reader

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ratgrinders · 8 months ago

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Ok here's an updated timeline of the Rat Grinders based on the new info we got this episode:

Freshman Year

On the first day of classes Kipperlily and the others meet and form their adventuring party. Kipperlily comes up with the name the High Five Heroes.

Kipperlily excels academically, but the High Five Heroes only go on easier adventures, presumably to ensure they will succeed rather than fail at something challenging.

Ruben is primarily an acoustic/soft rock musician.

Kipperlily begins to have childish rage and resentment towards Riz and the other Bad Kids, which start out petty but gradually grow in intensity over the next couple years.

Sophomore Year

An increase in hostility, one of the first meetings Kipperlily has this year is being jealous that Riz's dad was killed by Kalvaxus, that if a person has suffered immense magical hardship it is an unfair advantage in adventuring.

Kipperlily tries to find evidence of conspiracy with her parents and is enraged that they are boring.

A week after spring break the High Five Heroes go on their first quest to the mountains of chaos, chaperoned by Jace Stardiamond.

After this, the High Five Heroes seem to undergo a shift where their rage is amplified. Kipperlily's counselor files become much more venomous towards the Bad Kids, Ruben shifts to emo music, etc.

At some point after this Ivy and Oisin propose changing the name to the Rat Grinders. Kipperlily opposes this and Lucy is on her side, but Ruben votes against her because it makes her upset and Mary Ann also votes against her but doesn't explain her reasoning.

A piece of paperwork is submitted for Lucy to change her god, but another piece of paperwork is filed afterwards rescinding that application, presumably by Lucy herself changing her mind.

Towards the end of the year, after grades are finalized but before classes are over thus avoiding the pass/fail penalty, Lucy dies in the far haven woods near Aguefort. Presumably, she could have been resurrected in service of this unnamed rage god, but chose not to. She "stuck to her guns".

Kipperlily's rage towards the Bad Kids has transitioned from childish to venomous, she "hates them".

Junior Year

At some point between the end of Sophomore year and the beginning of Junior year, the Rat Grinders specifically request Buddy Dawn join their party as a cleric.

At 8:01 am, the first day of classes, Kipperlily goes to Ashgrove to dig up the rogue teacher's grave, thus forcing her to reveal herself and granting Kipperlily a pass for all her rogue classes for the year. Presumably she was aware of the rogue teacher's grave beforehand (information only available in Arthur Aguefort's office) but waited until the start of Junior year so she could pass all her classes for the year.

Kipperlily announces her bid to run for student council president, with a platform based on equity, equanimity, and fairness.

Kipperlily asks Jawbone about the creation of Yes! and the events of prompocalypse

Her counselor notes become extremely enraged, with her straight up wanting to kill Kristin and being angry that she can't get to her thanks to Fig's protection.

Oisin, Ivy, and Buddy are seen at Fabian's house party during the first week of classes. Kipperlily is not seen but is possibly there invisible. The Bad Kids are asked to do drugs but decline. That same night, mephits steal part of a cloud rider engine kept in Seacaster Manor.

At the school assembly the following day Principal Grix reveals he was notified of students doing drugs off campus, meaning its possible the Rat Grinders tipped him off in an attempt to get the Bad Kids in trouble.

Ruben performs presumably some kind of ritual at the Frosty Fair Folk festival, with the other Rat Grinders conspicuously absent. Simultaneously, Yolanda Badgood falls dead in the same place where Lucy Frostblade died, after Yolanda had been made aware of Lucy's change in god and was investigating it. Yolanda also refuses to be resurrected in service of the rage god.

The Rat Grinders are seen at the assembly addressing Yolanda's death and how all clerics would be moved to pass/fail. Most look bored, Mary Ann isn't paying attention, and Buddy is unconcerned.

Kipperlily and Oisin get caught trying to sabotage the Bad Kids' Last Stand exam, and Kipperlily kills Buddy. Ten minutes after the Bad Kids plane shift away, Buddy is revived by an unknown figure and he pledges his allegiance to the rage god.

Now the Rat Grinders are scheduled for another trip to the Mountains of Chaos and are on complete lockdown, hiding all of them from Adaine's divination magic.

#let me know if i should add anything and ill go back and edit it!#dimension 20 #fantasy high #fantasy high junior year #fhjy spoilers #original post #rat grinders #kipperlily copperkettle #lucy frostblade #buddy dawn #ivy embra #ruben hopclap #mary ann skuttle #oisin hakinvar

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nanivinsmoke · 3 months ago

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❥ Chauffeur .

❥ old!manlogan x fem!reader

summary: mean old logan can’t help but to push the best thing away in his life. and you can’t help but to let go of your worst.

❥ tags: stubbornness, age gap (readers in her late 20s), reader is a mutant, old man logan having a wet dream, car sex, riding, creampies, possibly pregnancy, reader is very rich and established, brat taming, reader’s boyfriend is an ASSHOLE, logan is an asshole but that’s nothing new, etc…

note: we all wanna ride, old man logan. also, stepping away from jjk for a bit. wc: 4.9k

Everyday was the same when you got into the car. There was a smile on your face and you greeted him, even if you didn’t get a response most of the time—you still treated him with kindness. He was your driver after all and you were trusting him with your life.

“45th and Madison, please.” You placed your purse into your lap and buckled up as he pulled off from your house, keeping his eyes on the road.

“How was your night Logan? Get any rest?” You stared at the side of his face, taking in his rugged features. “Good.” Was all he grunted, hands gripping the steering wheel as he navigated the busy streets of New York. You didn’t bother to question him anymore, not wanting to piss him off on this beautiful morning.

The car ride was silent on the way to your company, the only thing that couldn’t be heard was the soft hum of the car and the sound of the air conditioner blowing its cool air. And when he pulled up to your job, you opened your mouth to speak, “thanks, and here—.” you leaned over and handled him an envelope full of money, the scent of cigars and cologne invading your nostrils; making you swoon.

He muttered a thanks and you quickly got out of the car, “I’ll text you what time to pick me up! Later Logan~” You waved and smiled, watching the old man pull off into the nearby traffic—before you entered the double doors to your million dollar company.

You were one of the top businesswomen in the world, employing the most mutants and paying them fairly. You started this company when you were just a teen, not seeing any jobs for mutants when you were growing up—so you decided to make that change. You wanted a safe place for mutants to be able to work in, something like your mentor; Charles Xavier wanted.

You had to do it for your people, especially when the whole world was against you all.

Even though you were a multimillionaire and you owned a license, you didn’t have time to drive yourself around. You hired Logan after a friend recommended him. They praised him for everything that he did for them, he was more than a driver, and when got the chance to meet him in person—you were sold.

You grew very fond of the older man as time passed. He plagued your mind as you worked, his face clouding your thoughts while you were in important meetings—driving you insane. It was clear as day that you had a crush on him, however despite how you felt; you knew he would never think of you like the way you thought of him.

“Will you have dinner with me tonight? Wear that red dress that makes you look like a fucking supermodel?” The voice of your business partner and boyfriend broke you out of your daze, while the two of you ate lunch in the high-end lounge your company acquired.

Eric, was a guy you met at a press conference that supported you when you wanted to have more mutants employed and treated as normal in the world, when the public was against your kind. He was intelligent and an all around amazing person, and when he asked you out one day—the two of you immediately hit it off. You were happy to have him…..but there was something you didn’t like. He would put himself first before you.

He did this a couple of times, putting him and his buddies before you; and you called him out on it—but he always apologized and told you it wouldn’t happen again. Liar.

“Will it just be us this time? Last time it was me and your frat brothers. And I hate that night, you left me all alone.” You pouted and he chuckled before leaning over to kiss your lips. “It’ll just be us this time, I promi—hold that thought,” his phone started to ring and he quickly pulled it out; talking to whoever was on the other end. You sighed and continued munching on your food, before you headed back to your office; alone.

Logan was already outside of your office when you finally exited your company’s building. You hopped into the truck and he pulled off once you buckled up, heading into the direction of your house. “How was your day Logan?” You looked at him through the mirror, studying those hazel eyes of his, which connected onto yours as he answered you.

“Good.” You smiled and relaxed into your seat, enjoying the ride back home. “Oh, Eric’s and I are going out to eat. You can come inside while I get ready, it shouldn’t take long.” You beamed and he tensed up in his seat. You couldn’t see it, but Logan rolled his eyes and gripped the steering wheel at the mention of your boyfriend. He wasn’t fond of him, thought the guy was an asshole from the moment he met him. He felt like you deserved better, he knew you did.

But, who was he to judge? He was no saint himself.

After he pulled up to your house and the two of you entered, you were immediately greeted by your calico—Persia. She purred and rubbed against your leg before she spotted the tall man a few steps behind you. The cat inched over to him and sniffed his pants leg, before she rubbed herself against him; purring once more. Logan grunted and you smiled, reaching down to rub the soft furred animal, “she’s never don’t that before, she usually hisses at strangers. she must really like you.”

As you stepped deeper into your house, putting down your things and slowly stripping out of your work clothes, before turning to the grumpy old man standing at your front door, “He wants me to meet him there. I’m going to get ready, in the meantime are you hungry? Food’s in the fridge.”

“I’m good.” His voice was gruff and his face was blank, when he connected eyes with you, moving away from your cat. You unbuttoned the last black button to your matching button up, leaving you in your deep green matching underwear set—causing him to look away. “I have a huge liquor cabinet, help yourself.”

He watched as you ascended up the stairs before shaking his head and entering your kitchen. He admired your boldness, comfortable enough to undress in front of him, but he felt like he didn’t deserve to see you like that. No one did. Especially that fucked face motherfucka, Eric.

Logan took a look at your cabinet, impressed with your collection of wines, cognacs and other strong liquids; but he was more impressed to see this thirty year aged whiskey you had. Hibiki Whiskey, his favorite. He smiled to himself and grabbed it along with a glass, pouring a nice bit into it; before downing it—the smoothness flowing down his throat beautifully.

He sat on your couch, sipping on the dark liquor, while taking a look around your house. He found comfort in the decor, your home felt….safe. Something he hadn’t felt in ages. It was so safe that he couldn’t help but drift off into sleep, something he hardly did lately.

He must’ve been sleeping for a while, deep into his dream; this one a little different from the one’s he usually had about you.. You had frequented his dream world on occasion when he did sleep. Your warm smile was something he saw on a daily basis; when you were cooking for him or sometimes the two of you appeared in a field of flowers—your smile overshadowed the sun. But, this one was a lot different. You were on top, riding him.

Everything felt and looked so realistic. The same emerald green set you wore was glued to your body. The panties were pulled to the side, your essence sticking to them and his cock; while you bounced. Your body looked so beautiful and he knew he shouldn’t be dreaming about you like this, but he couldn’t help himself—especially when you turned around; face contorted in sheer arousal. And then he lost it, when you opened up your mouth and moaned his name.

“Logan~” fuck, he could feel you clench down on him, as you brought your ass down on him again—moaning his name once more. But this time you were louder, repeating his name over and over again; his tired hazel eyes shooting open, staring at your own. You were standing in front of him, wearing a beautiful ruby red dress; which clung to your body and accentuated your curves, smiling at him.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. But, I need your help zipping up my dress—please~.” He nodded, shifting in his spot to hide the boner that was poking through his black corduroy pants—reaching over to help zip you up. His rough fingers melted into your soft skin, as he held his hand on your upper back for support; his mind going right back to his dream. Fuck, he was going to hell for dreaming about you like that.

You looked beautiful, standing a little taller than usual—thanks to your gold heels that matched your jewelry. You decided to curl your natural hair, which framed your soft made-up face. He could stare at you all day.

“Thanks. I’m ready to go!” And there you go with that smile, that slowly melted his cold heart.

You waited outside of the restaurant in the car, waiting for Eric to show up. It had been ten minutes since you arrived and he still wasn’t there, wasn’t answering his phone either. Your gut told you to leave, but you couldn’t bring yourself to it—you were hoping he would show up. So, to get your mind off of him, you sparked a conversation up with Logan.

“Hey Logan, tell me about yourself. What do you do besides driving?” He clenched his teeth and kept a grip on the car’s steering wheel.

“Nothing.”

“Really? I heard you were a bodyguard and a hitman. What was that—“ He turned around and glared at you, cutting you off as he spoke. “Listen. I’m not one of your fucking girlfriends you sit and gossip with. Got it?” His voice was deep and scary, while his eyes told a different story. However, you nodded and looked away, blinking back the tears that wanted to leave your own.

Then, your phone rang and you immediately answered. On the other end of the line was Eric, apologizing about not showing up and begging for the two of you to reschedule. You swallowed the lump in your throat and told him that it was alright, saying you were tired anyways; before hanging up and slumping into your seat. “Take me home.” Was all that you could muster up to say, before a stream of tears cascaded down your face—ruining your makeup.

The car ride was silent, besides the sounds of your sobs—which slowly broke the old man. He kept glancing at you through the mirror, feeling like a dick because he played a part in your sadness too. But, an apart of him felt angry, he wanted to kick Eric’s ass for standing you up. How could he not see what was right in front of him?

As the car halted in front of your house, you immediately got out, slamming the door behind you before you sped walked to the front door—not looking back—too embarrassed to speak to him. And one he saw that you were safely inside, he drove off and headed into the direction of the nearby bar—ready to drink the night away.

This was one of the worst nights ever and neither of you would forget it.

The following days were like a blur for you. You hadn’t been to work for a week, taking some time off to try and understand your mental.

That day played in your mind over and over, you were hurt twice that night. But, the look on Logan’s face haunted you. You could tell there was more behind those eyes, besides all that anger, something else laid behind them—and you wanted to know more. No matter how much he tried to push you away.

Currently, you were sitting on your couch with Persia by your side, eating ice cream and watching whatever was on tv—ignoring the spam calls from Eric; when you were startled by a loud pound on your front door. You looked at the door then at Persia, fists clenched as your powers started to surge; before you started to creep towards the door. You swung it open, ready to pummel whoever was on the other side, until you saw who was standing on your porch.

Your eyes widened and your mouth dropped, looking at the older man who was covered in blood and holding onto his arm. “Logan! What the hell happened?” You asked, helping him into your home and shutting the door afterwards—to hide him from any nosey neighbors; before you ushered him into your downstairs bathroom. He sat down on the toilet with a clang, before he started to remove his clothes; with your help.

“Whose blood is this?” You asked, putting his bloody beater into the hammer behind you before inspecting his scarred face. “Most of it was someone else’s. Don’t worry, I’ll heal.” He moved away from your touch, but you immediately pulled him back; your eyes piercing him.

“I know, but until your healing factor kicks in, im gonna help. And i'm not asking.” He chuckled and nodded his head, before you used your powers on him—stopping the blood from leaking out until his own power’s kicked in. One of his thick eyebrows raised in confusion, before you answered him.

“Blood manipulation. Now let’s put that shoulder back in place. Here, bite down on this.” You handed him a washcloth, but he declined.

“Just do it, princess. I can take it.” He reassured and you stared at him for a moment, before whispering an ‘okay’. Without warning, you gripped his arm and pushed it back into his socket, making him yell out in pain—his claws unsheathing in the process.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” You apologized, making him shake his head in response. His claws retracted and he pulled you in by your waist—his body heat warming you as you stood next to him. His hazel eyes searched all over your face, lingering on your plump lips before backing up to your soft irises, “need a drink, right now.”

The two of you sat in your kitchen, sharing a bottle of ten year old cognac, while Logan shared stories about what he did—answering your question from last week. “I also take care of Charles….Charles Xavier.” You swallowed the smooth liquor, before responding.

“Oh, I knew that already.” He raised an eyebrow and you giggled, continuing. “He accidentally called on your phone, thinking I was Taco Bell, until I spoke with him. He’s a funny guy, I’ve always imagined he was……I was a big fan of his when I was younger.” There was some silence, as he thought about the Professor and his current state.

You got up from your spot and put your glass in the sink, done drinking for night, before going into the fridge for a snack—until his deep voice made you stop moving. “Look, princess….about the other night—“

“It’s fine. No need to apologize.”

“No, but I need to. I was a jerk and you just wanted to get to know me. So, I'm sorry.” He was now standing in front of you, towering over you, still shirtless from earlier. Your eyes trailed over his hairy, toned abs, before you looked up at his beautiful rugged face—pressing your thighs together as you felt that familiar pulsing between your legs. You nodded and turned on your heels to leave, but his rough hands pulled you back; making you stumble, before he caught you.

“What happened to you and what’s his face?” He spoke and you snorted, rolling your eyes at the thought of Eric. “He’s an asshole, who likes to waste my time.“

Logan clenched his teeth, feeling himself get upset at the mere thought of him mistreating you. “Dick can’t see what the hell he has right in front of him?” You blushed, and bit your bottom lip, your smaller hands reaching up to toy with his platinum dog tags. “Neither can you.”

He froze and you stopped moving, eyes slowly looking up at his, until he leaned down and pulled you in a wet, sloppy kiss. His hands immediately went down to your ass, squeezing the soft fat through your tiny black shorts; something he thought doing for a while now. You squealed when he picked you up and placed you onto the countertop behind you, never breaking his lips from yours. Despite being an old man, he still had the same strength he did when he was younger.

He kissed down from your lips to your chest that was hidden behind your hot pink beater, nipples standing at attention. He circled the imprint of them with his tongue, making you moan out, before he made his way down to your clothed cunt; your arousal plaguing his nose.

“Knew you wanted this since earlier, could smell her calling out for me~” He swiped his tongue over your clothed slit, slick already staining the dark fabric. He pulled the shorts down with ease, hazel eyes growing darker as he was met face to face with your bare cunt; your essence making your puffy lips glisten.

“Shit.” He cursed, loving the sight of your pretty pussy dripping just for him, he couldn’t help but to dive in and enjoy the meal you had set right in front of him. The sensation of his beard and his tongue rubbing against you, made you moan out; back arching off of the counter and your hands tugging on his salt n pepper colored hair—grinding against his face.

He worked wonders on your clit, sucking on the sensitive bud, forcing more and more of your sweet translucent arousal from your aching hole; building up your orgasm. Logan spat against your soaked cunt, using his fingers to rub it all over soft lips; before pushing a thick finger into your hole—making you yell out a series of curse words.

“Gonna cum—f-fuck! Just like that Logan!” He continued to lap up your juice and pump his fingers in and out of you, curling them—making them punch your spot over and over; making you gush all over him. The grip you had on his hair was tight as you came, but he ignored it and continued to draw out your orgasm; before pulling away and pressing his wet lips against yours.

The kiss was sloppy, filled with nothing but hunger as you licked every inch of his wet face, tasting yourself; a low hum leaving his lips. And as your hand reached down to feel the bulge in his pants, he pulled away—making you whimper. But, when he backed further away and wouldn’t look at you, you noticed something was wrong.

“Logan?” You started, slipping off the counter, legs wobbling as you stood and walked over to him; only for him to back away once more.

“Gotta go. This was a mistake.” And before you could protest, he made a beeline to your front door, opening it and shutting it behind him; not bothering to grab his shirt or turning to look at you.

What the actual fuck?

You returned back to work the following day. Logan dropped you off of course, but he barely acknowledged you—evident he didn’t want to talk about what happened yesterday. But, you needed to talk about it, wondering what made him stop. Surely he didn’t think you would just be alright with him eating your pussy and making you cum, and not feel something about him?

However, you would deal with the grumpy old man later. Today, you had to face the asshole of the year, Eric. You left the car with a simple ‘bye’ to Logan, before taking the elevator ride up to your office’s floor, trying to push yesterday’s events out of your mind.

Your baby blue heels clicked on the wooden floor as you sashayed down the walk way, making heads turn and people cheer; excited for your return. However as you approached your office, you were stopped by your assistant, who had a look of worry on their face.

“What’s the matter?” You questioned, looking at your office before going back to your assistant. They gulped and prepared themselves to tell you what lies in your office.

“Mr. Eric’s in there...and he’s not alone. He’s with another—“ you cut them off and storm past them, opening the wooden door, eyes glued to the horrific sight in front of you. Your boyfriend was balls deep into your new intern, having her bent over your crisp white desk.

The sound of the door slamming shut startled them and the girl screamed, scrambling to pull her skirt down, while apologizing to you frantically. You held up your finger and shushed her, motioning to the door so she could leave. And once she did, you immediately sauntered over to the guilty male—body temperature increasing by the second.

“How long?” You questioned, your tone flat and emotionless. He stuttered, but then he looked down and looked back up—a devious smirk on his face.

“A good couple of months now. Why’d you think i pushed for you to hire her? What, did you think I’d actually love someone like you?” He chuckled, circling around you, while you raised an eyebrow. “And what does that mean? Someone like me?”

“Your kind! A fucking mutant! I’ve been using you from the beginning, I just wanted to get my hands on this company—have you mutants under my control. Starting with you—“ You set him flying back with a punch to his cheek, making him fly through the door; knocking it down.

All you saw was red as you marched over to him, your employees shocked at what was going down, but none of them dared to step in. “This….this is what I expected from you people! Pure chaos and violence.” He smirked, blood pooling from his mouth as he spewed his hate.

Using your powers, you were able to make more blood flow out of him; making a wound in his lung—which caused him to cough up some more blood. And as you raised your fist to punch him once more, your wrist was caught—stopping your movements. You turned to see Logan, his hazel eyes begging for you to stop.

He smelled danger when he was on his way up to your office, since you had forgotten your phone in the car he wanted to bring it to you. Only to be met with you about to kill a man.

“He’s had enough. Let him go.” You knew better than to protest, so you used your powers to close the internal wound on Eric; calming yourself down as Logan pulled you back into his arms. “Get him out of here, he’s fired!”

You were fuming in the car. Angry was an understatement, you were pissed. You were humiliated. You were hurt. Logan couldn’t stop checking on you through the rear view mirror, until he decided to pull over to the side of the road—putting the car in park. He hopped out of the car and opened up your side door, nodding for you to get out.

“Logan—what are you—“

“Let it out. It helps to let everything out.” You squinted and chuckled. How ironic of him to try and help you not keep things bottled inside.

“You can’t be fucking serious! You of all people, trying to give advice on their feelings? You’re the fucking king of keeping things in!” You stepped closer to him, but he didn’t budge, letting you get it all out of your system.

“You pushed me away from the beginning! Then you come in my fucking house like a wounded dog and then on top of it all—you made me have the best orgasm of my life and let me fall in love with you! Who does that!” Hot tears rolled down your pretty face, while you poked into his broad chest with each word.

You were right. He did push you away. He couldn’t open his heart, his stubbornness would allow him. But, he couldn’t let his past haunt his future, not anymore. So, he decided right then and there to finally open up and let you in.

Logan pulled you in close, the smell of his cologne and the cigar he smoked earlier was soothing; it warmed you—which made it easier for you to accept his kiss. All of that anger washed over you while your tongues danced with one another. You reached up and wrapped your arms around his neck; while gripping your hips and picking you up—making his way over to the car and placing you in the seats, laying you on your back.

He wasted no time and tugged off your clothes, your grey dress falling to the floor; along with your panties and bra. He stepped back, taking a moment to bask in your glory. You were beautiful and he was going to cherish this moment forever.

His slacks dropped to his ankles and you watched with lidded eyes as he pulled his cock out, making them widen. “Knew you were huge~” you said, your slick pooled and dribbled down your crack, making the black leather seats glisten underneath you.

Logan grabbed his girth, rubbing against your swollen clit; eliciting moans from your sweet lips—coating himself in your fluids. Angling himself at your entrance, he pushed himself in; stretching you as he eased himself in.

“Good—…..girl. That’s it, princess—take all of it” He grunted, praising you as you were able to take all of him in one go. You winced, his tip pressing into your cervix, making you inch away from him—only to be pulled back in. He wanted you to sit there and take it. He was going to give you exactly what you wanted. Some dick.

He held your hips, your legs wrapped around his waist, as he began to move inside of you—his strokes were deep and powerful; making your eyes roll back and your lids flutter. The more he moved, the more you grew aroused—making you a moaning mess while he fucked the shit out of you.

You clung to him with each stroke, making the older male grunt. Your tits bounced and clashed against each other as the two of you moved, hypnotizing Logan. He leaned down and plopped one of them into his mouth, sucking on your nipples like it was a peppermint. You moaned out, hands clawing at the back of the seat right next to you—pleasure too intense for you.

He was fucking you so good, splitting your pussy open with each movement; orgasm rising inside of you. “Please! Logan, I'm gonna cum! Wait—slow down—fuck!” He ignored your pleas, his pace increasing by the second. Who knew that this old man could have that much stamina?

Continuing to make a mess out of your pussy, he continued to rub against your g-spot—making your orgasm course through you. You clung to him and clenched around him sporadically, creaming all over him. He growled, feeling his own orgasm creeping up on him—but you pulled out, causing him to groan.

“Sit. Wanna ride you.”

His hands clung to your waist, helping you bounce on his dick—filling you up completely. You gripped his shoulder for support, as the car rocked with your movements. The sound of your pussy and the clapping of your ass against him, made him feral and he couldn’t help but to grip your ass—hard, pushing you further down on him.

“Fuck, princess. Where do you want it?”

“Inside! Deep inside of me.” You didn’t care what would come afterwards. You just didn’t want him to stop fucking you. Logan pressed another kiss to your lips, rough hands smacking your ass as you moved wildly—walls getting ready to milk him dry. And with a few more hard bounces, he spurted deep inside of you, inner walls being painted a nice shade of white.

Rocking your hips against him, another orgasm made your body shake; cheeks jiggling against him as you came—moaning his name repeatedly.

The two of you stayed like that, his cock softening inside of you, while he continued to bottom out—before he pulled out, tip hitting your ass. You kissed him once more, content with how the night ended; finally with the man you deserved to be with.

“I love you….promise to not push me away?”

He smiled, the first time you saw it on his face, and nodded.

“I love you too.”

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osachiyo · 3 months ago

Text

" LEMME HIT YOU WITH THAT DUMB DICK ! "

𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 — dazai, chuuya, jouno (+ tecchou), oda, sigma x fem!reader

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 & 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 — [n]sfw content, somnophilia, these are random scenarios ok don't come at me, degradation, humiliation, doggystyle, rough, getting caught, pussy slapping, s.ex at work, oral (m & f receiving), fingering, piv, unprotected s.ex (be careful babes), praise, creampie + etc • this was originally supposed to be their fav places to fuck but i had to scrap that bc i lost motivation :') anyway, happy reading and i hope you enjoy !! not proofread soz babes

ps. reblog to show your favorite writers support, they're greatly appreciated ! <3

⁰¹ 𝐃𝐀𝐙𝐀𝐈 — fucking you in a storage room of the agency

This man is a sex fiend, so of course he would love to fuck you literally anywhere anytime. Though he can't lie, being balls deep in your juicy little cunt at work — risking both of your dignities and possibly your jobs has him harder than a fucking rock.

"Osamu— what if we g-get caugh— mmh-!" you let out a muffled moan as dazai delivered a particularly harsh thrust into your cunt, effectively shutting you up. "Relaaaax, sweet thing — almost no one c-comes here — fuck, you're so damn tight," Dazai panted into your ear, hot breath making a chill run down your spine — back arching even further against his chest.

"God, you're so good f'me — so warm 'n right, fuck!" each word was rushed, dripping with lust — the desperation in his voice made you wanna look at his pretty face, pussy clenching just from imagining how good he'd look with his hair disheveled — his usual doe eyes narrowed and a deep blush covering his skin, sweat dripping down his forehead and making his hair stick to his forehead —

Your train of thought got cut off abruptly when Dazai slapped his hand over your mouth, before his hushed voice reached your ears, "shh, stay still f'me, sweetheart."

You were about to question it when you heard the president's voice from just behind the door. The door of the room you were currently getting your back blown out in.

"Yes, I keep hearing strange noises from this one room in particular," you heard fukuzawa's muffled voice — the thought of your boss catching you in the act made your pussy flutter around Dazai’s length, making the brunette grunt in response.

"Are you trying to get us caught, darl'?" Dazai hissed into your ear — oops, you unintentionally clenched down again upon hearing the keys jingle from the other side of the door. Luckily Dazai was ready for it this time, and managed to bite down on your shoulder before he could get a sound out.

"W-what do we do, 'samu? He’s gonna come in!" you whisper-yelled, panic settling in your bones when you saw the doorknob rattle — but before he could unlock the door fully, you heard the high pitched voice of another worker, "president! an important client has come to personally see you."

"Hm, alright. looks like i'll have to tell someone else to take a look in this room later. Let’s go,"

You let out a breath of relief once the footsteps faded away, leaving you both in complete silence until dazai decided to speak up —

"You clenched reaaal hard when he was about to open the door — don't tell me you actually wanted us to get caught, did you, naughty girl?"

⁰² 𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐔𝐘𝐀 — having you suck him off in his office

Chuuya's job as an executive of the mafia is stressful, to say the least. Not to mention some of the idiotic workers not doing their job right never fails to make his blood pressure go especially high — his anger issues doesn't help his case at all. But what does help is his sweet sweet girlfriend giving him some... 'under the table service' at work.

Chuuya's fist slammed against the hardwood desk, a loud 'thwack!' echoing in the room,

"What the fuck were you thinking?!" he sneered at the poor man in front of him — who couldn't help but flinch at seeing his boss so angry at him failing to complete a simple report.

Truth be told, Chuuya wasn’t really that mad at the worker, for the report at least — he was just.. super on edge from you deep-throating his cock under the goddamn table. He struggled to think properly, and the poor worker interrupting his private moment with you really ticked him off. Can you really blame him though?

How could he think straight with your skilled tongue swirling around his glossy tip so sinfully — fucking tease. Oh and the way you peered up at him through lowered lashes, your eyes glazed with a dreamy haze.

It all made his head spin like crazy.

“-ir, I can re-do it if you would like me to..” Chuuya’s train of thought unfortunate got cut off short, blue eyes snapping back to the man before him — right, the report.

“A-ahem — alright. Have it finished by 6 pm.”

Chuuya hated the way his voice cracked, fingernails digging into the palms of his hands as he tried not to moan out loud when you fully took him nose deep in that right, sweet little throat— shamelessly rutting your hips into his crazy expensive slacks, rubbing your juices all over the smooth, polished material.

You felt Chuuya’s fingers entangle themselves in your hair immediately after hearing the ‘click’ of the door shutting — the guy must’ve finally left.

You couldn’t help but gasp as you were pulled up from the cold, hard floor — and being shoved onto the desk instead.

You felt your pussy throb in your lacy panties as Chuuya spread your legs open — two fingers pressing and prodding at your cunt before sliding the flimsy material to the side,

“Now, let’s get into the real fun, shall we darl’?”

⁰³ 𝐉𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐎 — teaching tecchou how to eat you out properly

Jouno was a good friend. Even though he might've had a tendency to be a little harsh and.. sadistic at times, he wasn't a bad person. I mean, he had to be atleast a decent person for teaching his inexperienced co-worker how to eat pussy — specifically, his own girlfriend's.

"No, not like that you fucking idiot —" Jouno grumbled, pulling Tecchou's head off of your cunt as he blinked in confusion like a lost puppy, sticky strings of your arousal still attached to his lips. "What do you mean? She's clearly enjoying it.."

"I mean that you can do better. You do want to make her feel fuckin' amazing, don't you?" Jouno raised a questioning brow. "Well, of cour—" "Then start acting like it."

A gasp left your honeyed lips when Tecchou's face was pushed back against your cunt — hot tongue working with even more fervor as he ate you out like he had been starving for days.

"Oh fuck — feels so g-good, sai," you whimpered out — head thrown back and your tongue threatening to loll out from the sheer pleasure the man between your legs was giving you. "Yeah, baby? Feels good when Tecchou eats that sweet cunt out reaaaaal good, huh?" Jouno's tone was condescending — his lips curled up into a cocky smirk.

“Y’smell so sweet - taste so sweet -” Tecchou's voice was low and dripping with need — your pussy throbbed from just how desperate he sounded.

"A-ah shit - can feel you throbbin' on my tongue, princess —" he groaned, tongue flattening against your clit as he shook his head side to side.

You babbled out Jouno’s name like a prayer — all while the man between your legs worshipped your cunt like it was his god, pink tongue repeatedly flicking your clit, making you see stars as your hole stretched around two of his slim fingers.

“Please — wanna c-cum s’ba- mmh!- ,” you let out a strangled noise as a harsh slap landed on your soaked pussy, clit throbbing as you threw your head back once more. “Fuckin’ slut, so damn eager to cum on another man’s tongue in front of your boyfriend, hmm?”

“Don’t — ah fuck, squeezin’ so tight ‘round my fingers, baby - don’t be so mean, Jouno,” Tecchou threw a side glare to the man next to him, which only earned a shrug from said man, “quit talking and enjoy the meal, dumbass. She’s close.”

And enjoy the meal he did — lapping up every single drop of your sweet juices so enthusiastically you’d think that he hadn’t eaten in days.

⁰⁴ 𝐎𝐃𝐀 — morning sex with him

Mornings with your husband, Oda Sakunosuke, were sweet, blissful and filled with love. Sometimes he'd surprise you with breakfast in bed, it's the least he can do considering everything that you do for him, is what he says. But sometimes — you crave him instead of the delicious food.

“My pretty girl,” Oda smiled sleepily, moving some of your hair out of your face to admire your effortless beauty — blissfully unaware to how his deep morning voice made your heart flutter in your chest, and your pussy throb with need.

You grinned back, scooting closer into his arms as you gazed into his deep brown eyes, “pretty enough to fuck?”

Oda raised a questioning eyebrow, full lips curling into a grin, "oh? that's the game we're playing, love?" Strong arms wrapped around your bare figure, the marks of last night still fresh on your skin — a reminder to how he fucked you dumb on his cock only a few hours prior.

You felt your face burn from the memories of last night rushing back into you — god, you two were insatiable - you're sure Oda fucked you in every single position in the book, and it did nothing but make you crave him more.

"Still with me, darling?" he lightly tapped your cheek, snapping you back to the present. You nodded, a gasp falling from your lips as big, calloused hands found themselves groping at your tits, pinching at your cute nipples as he pressed open mouthed kisses on your neck — his stubble tickling the sensitive skin there.

"O-oda—"

"shhh, baby — lemme do all the work, yeah?"

And that's how you ended up with your face pressed into the pillows — silken bedsheets tangled around your bodies as Oda fucked his fat girth into your sopping cunt nice 'n deep.

A large hand was pressing your back into the meanest arch ever — strong hips slamming against the fat of your plush ass with each deep thrust, thick mushroom tip prodding at your g-spot - making you bleat out your husband's name pitifully. Oda only pushed your head deeper into the soft pillows — clearly too lost in the feeling of your velvety walls clenching around him.

He watched his cock slipped in and out of your pussy so easily — your slick covering his balls down to his thighs. Oda groaned deeply in his throat as he watched a creamy ring form around the base of his cock — your cunt sucking him in so eagerly that he almost thought it hurt for you to let him go.

You let out a particularly loud moan as Oda's cock hit that one spot in you — you could only bite down on the pillow as your eyes shut closed, pussy slobbering shamelessly all over his length.

"Oh? Did you like— argh! - t-that spot, sweet girl?"

⁰⁵ 𝐒𝐈𝐆𝐌𝐀 — fucking you in your sleep

Sigma was a busy man — with running the sky casino and being part of the decay of angels didn't leave too much alone time with just him and you — especially for some.. intimacy. You knew he needed to relieve himself someway — all that workload while being pent up as fuck certainly wasn't good for him. Plus, you have been craving him as well.. so you came up with an easy solution.

The door to your shared bedroom clicked open — your beloved boyfriend, Sigma, letting himself in as his eyes racked over the entire room, searching for anything out of the ordinary — you did tell him that you had a surprise for him, after all.

Upon finding nothing, he stalked over to the bed, confusion lacing his features as he glanced over at your sleeping form. Slender hands slowly slipped the soft blanket off of you and oh —

It all clicked suddenly.

The lavender coloured lace suited your complexion so perfectly, the expensive material hugging your features like it was made for you. Sigma gulped, eyes fixating on the way your tits were practically spilling out of the flimsy fabric — your stiff nipples very much visible to his hungry gaze.

It wasn't long before he had his face buried between your plush thighs — Sigma was so desperate, not even bothering to take the lingerie off your body. Besides, why would he when you just looked way too good in it?

He was practically eating you out through the thin lace — nose bumping against your clothed clit as his tongue tried to push deeper into your cunt. You had him in a chokehold — but he couldn't care less.

Sigma's slim hips were rutting into the expensive sheets — precum leaking from his sensitive tip as he tried his best not to cum untouched just from tasting your sweet pussy, but fuck, you were making it so hard for him.

He felt his cock throb in his pants when you started letting out soft moans and sighs in your sleep — or were you even asleep anymore? He didn't know and neither did he care — mind too focused on making you cum on his pretty face.

"ohh s-shit — best surprise - sluurrp - e-ever—" he whined into your cunt, spitting directly into your sticky hole before slurping it all back up.

Safe to say, he definitely enjoyed your little surprise.

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