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#chase card payment
dentist-brainsurgeon · 8 months
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In real life news I, and several coworkers got to be a lab rat for a seemingly new gift card scam.
Guy come in, grab visa gift cards, ask for $250 each specifically to be put on them, and they pay with a very suspicious looking credit card that processes very slowly, then bam, gift card "paid" for. I was suspicious of this already, but then I look over at my coworker a few registers away and she also had some guy ask for $250 on a gift card, told a coworker about it and he says someone did the same thing at self checkout yesterday, $250 again, and also had a slow processing time, and not too long ago another coworker had the same thing happen at self checkout and messaged us about it. I'm not sure how this scam works but, this is the first time I've seen something like it
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merchantservices444 · 8 months
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xvysarene · 2 months
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𝕊𝕠𝕞𝕖𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕘 ℝ𝕖𝕒𝕝
Pairing: Sylus x Fem!Reader Words: ~3.1k Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Eventual fluff Notice: Y/N is not MC, Profanities, Mentions of wounds Summary: There was a connection between you and Sylus that went beyond the typical boss & his right-hand woman dynamic. When you finally had enough of his recent behaviour since his return, you decided it was time to quit.
[ᝰ.ᐟ MASTERLIST]
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“We agree to your terms, and as soon as we finish the down payment, we expect to see the firearms—”
Before you could even finish, the heavy double doors swung open with a crash. Sylus strode in, a dark aura clinging to him, and you knew that nothing good would come out of it.
“The deal is off.”
You gasped. “You can’t be fucking serious.”
“Ms. Y/N, I thought you said you could handle this deal solo?” Marcel—that cunning eel of a man—drawled lazily. “Looks like Mr. Sylus here still doubts your ability, even after all this time.”
On any other day, you would have knocked the smug grin off Marcel’s face. But your attention was fixed on your boss, Sylus, whose expression was a cold, impenetrable mask of indifference.
“I’ve worked on this for months. Alone. When you were gone chasing shadows,” you hissed, “You have no right to dictate me.”
Crimson eyes met your gaze with a fire of his own as he stepped closer. “And do I need to remind you who’s the leader of this organisation?”
How dare he!
It took a while for the others in the N109 Zone to stop belittling you, to finally trust you as Onychinus’s indispensable weapon who could hold her own ground, even entrusted to run the organisation in his absence.
And he knew this.
“I don’t meddle in your affairs, so stay out of mine.”
He exactly knew what, or who, you were talking about.
Somehow, this conversation was no longer about the deal; it was about something else that had been creating a rift between you both.
“You don’t understand—”
“You have no idea what I understand!” you snapped, jabbing a finger at his firm chest.
Out of the corner of your eye, you spotted Luke entering the room to usher Marcel out.
“If you’re looking for a new job, my organisation is always open for a pretty little thing, buttercup.” He threw a mischievous wink your way.
The man was clearly not uncomfortable with the commotion; it was satisfying to see Onychinus crumbling before his own eyes.
Kieran cautiously stepped forward. “Boss, Y/N, let’s take a moment—”
“You think I wouldn't find out about your little escapade with ‘Miss Hunter’?”
That struck a nerve; Sylus’s eyes narrowed. 
“What?” you continued, your tone dripping with sarcasm, “Mephisto accidentally charged your card with millions just to buy every single protocore in the auction?”
Any heartfelt emotion you held for him was swallowed by fury and disappointment that had been building for some time. This was the last straw, a volcano ready to erupt.
“I’ve warned you before, Sylus.”
Ever since he came back from doing who knew what, he had been distracted. Physically, he was there—but he wasn't present.
Conversations that once flowed easily between you were now peppered by half-hearted responses.
As a last resort, you decided to prepare dinner for him and the twins that one night, something you periodically did when the mood struck, in the hopes of getting him to come around.
Luke and Kieran were happily munching on the lasagna and sipping wine from Sylus’s favourite bottle, their lively chatter filling up the dining room.
But the man who was supposed to be the centre of it all took only a single bite before abandoning it for his phone.
“Sylus, could you please put your phone down and enjoy the dinner?”
The twins froze, eyes flickering between the two of you, sensing the impending storm.
Yet Sylus didn’t even acknowledge you, his attention firmly fixed on the screen in his hand. Somehow, it was more important than the company around him.
“Sylus—”
“Can you get off my back for once?” Red eyes snapped to yours, flashing with irritation.
“You are losing me,” you repeated the words you had uttered that night. The tremble in your voice was a blend of rage and a deeper, more vulnerable feeling.
Sylus's eyes flashed, revealing the first hint of emotion that you recognised—a wounded look, perhaps, or something else that you didn’t dare to think about.
Kieran, determined to defuse the tension, squared his shoulders. “We all should take a breather and approach this with clearer heads.”
Eyes still fixed on your boss’s handsome face, the words came out with unwavering finality, “I quit.”
Ripping the brooch from where it rested just above your heart, you hurled it with such force that it bounced off his chest before skidding across the floor.
The sharp, unmistakable crack echoed throughout the silent room.
Sylus's jaw tightened, a muscle ticking in his cheek. “Fine.”
And that was it. There were no apologies, not even a 'thank you' for your dedication to Onychinus all this time.
“Please, don't do this. We need you,” Kieran’s voice had a note of desperation in it.
A bitter laugh slipped from your lips. “Your boss has made it perfectly clear that he doesn’t need me anymore. Apparently, he has more pressing matters than ensuring the organisation's interest.”
Sylus crossed his arms, his voice cutting like a cold knife. “If you're going to leave, then leave. We don't have time for theatrics.”
With that, you turned on your heel and walked away.
Luke, having just returned from escorting Marcel out, caught sight of the unexpectedly angry tears in your eyes and called out your name as you rushed down the hallway.
What you didn’t expect from quitting was the depth of void it created in your life. You missed the twins’ oddball humour and even found yourself longing for Mephisto’s often irritating caws.
It felt strange not to see the black bird outside of your bedroom window or atop the lamppost, as it normally would.
Despite the financial cushion provided by Onychinus’s paycheck, restlessness drove you back to the N109 Zone before long.
“Thought that we’d never see you again, missy.”
The familiar surroundings of Elysium provided a soothing balm to the loneliness gnawing inside you—the rich scent of aged booze mingled with the sound of rolling dice filling your senses.
“You’re not the only one surprised,” you muttered lowly, sitting down on one of the stools.
“Guess you are more used to staying here than Linkon now,” the young woman behind the bar chuckled. “Many might see it as a slum, but the N109 Zone has its charm.”
During Sylus’s absence, you had called the base as a second home. Staying there made it easier for you to manage the daily operation, sparing you the hassle of travelling back and forth to Linkon.
“What would you like to drink? It’s on the house.” Before you could answer, the woman beat you to it. “Rum and lemonade?”
A sudden feeling of yearning washed over you. It was Sylus who had first introduced you to this concoction right here, you had even questioned his taste at the time, but it had since become one of your favourite drinks.
You gulped the emotion down. “Yes, please.”
She sent you a sympathetic smile, obviously understanding what crossed your mind.
The burn of the rum started to warm your body as the second glass went down easily. Each sip brought back memories of standing side by side in battles and conversations shared in quieter moments, a foolish longing that settled deep within your chest. 
As you set it aside, you felt someone slid on the vacant stool beside you, encroaching on your personal space.
“What’s a pretty girl doing here all alone?”
“Leave me alone.” You didn’t even look at his direction.
Funnily enough, though you normally no longer felt the weight of the brooch—a symbol of your affiliation with Sylus and Onychinus—you now felt its absence vividly, like a phantom heaviness above your left breast.
With it, no one ever truly dared to come near you, wary of crossing paths with Sylus.
Without it, however, meant you were no longer under Sylus’s protection.
The man sidled closer, clearly not taking the hint. “Still playing hard to get even without Sylus behind you? You should have seen him dragged out of the raid like a ragdoll by his pair of thugs. It was pathetic.”
Your heart stuttered, finally looking at the man beside you. “What did you say?” 
Sylus, hurt? It was unthinkable. You had seen first-hand how his wound healed quickly.
“Heh, you really don’t know, do you?” His smile widened, revealing yellowed teeth. “The idiot went to finish Marcel off by himself last night. Imagine taking down dozens of Marcel’s men alone, with all their weapons.”
He daringly placed a hand on your thigh, fingers digging in. “So bitch, you’d better get off your damn high horse and listen. Without Sylus, you’re just another pretty face.”
In a quick manoeuvre, you slammed his head on the bar. His painful howl was cut short as you drew your concealed gun, the barrel pressed firmly against the back of his skull. “Touch me one more time and I’ll paint this bar with your brains.”
The barkeeper approached, her expression impassive as she took in the sight of your gun pressing against the man's head. However, when she noticed the colour draining from your face, a look of surprise crossed her features.
“You didn’t know?” she asked, her tone softer than you expected. “I thought that was the reason you came back here.”
Ignoring the curious stares of the other patrons, you stormed out of the bar, the weight of fear heavy on your shoulders.
The city's familiar streets blurred past as you made your way to the base, and you thought you heard familiar caws in the distance.
You didn't spare a second thought as the electronic lock still buzzed with recognision when your palm and iris scans were verified. The reinforced doors opened, granting you access just like usual.
Luke and Kieran met you in the hallway, no doubt alerted to your arrival. Whether by Mephisto or the security alert, you weren’t sure.
Even with their masks on, their surprised body language was unmistakable.
“How did you find out? Boss made sure that none of us tips you off,” Luke asked.
“It’s true?” you demanded, your voice was tight with anxiety. “About Sylus?”
The twins exchanged silent glances. “He’s in his quarters,” Kieran said slowly. “But be warned, he is in a foul mood.”
As you moved swiftly down the familiar corridors, your heart pounded in your chest. The smell of antiseptic hit your senses as you slid the door open, revealing the dimly lit room.
Sylus was seated on the edge of the bed, his back to you as he changed his bandages. “I told you guys to leave me alone. I’m fine,” his voice gruff.
You took a steadying breath. “Sylus.”
His silhouette tensed, and the set of his shoulders turned rigid. Slowly, he turned to look at you.
“What are you doing here?” His voice was rough.
“I—” you started, but the words caught in your throat. The sight of bandages covering his injuries made it difficult to articulate your thoughts. “Why did you go after Marcel?”
“This isn’t a place for someone like you right now.”
That comment was odd, but you dismissed it as you crossed the room, closing the gap between you. Up close, you could see the bruises and wounds peppering his body—dark, angry splotches that marred his skin, evidence of the brutality inflicted by Marcel’s men.
While the healing process was slower than usual, it was still significantly faster than it would be for an ordinary person.
You had been working with him for quite some time yet you had never before seen him in such a state.
“I’m fine,” he repeated, catching your concerned gaze.
“You don’t look fine,” you said firmly. “I’m not going anywhere until you explain what happened.”
Sylus shifted on the bed, wincing slightly as he rested his back on the headboard. After a moment of silence, he finally spoke, “Marcel was the one behind the bombing of the hunter’s grandma’s house.”
As much as you felt sorry for the UNICORN hunter, you couldn’t understand why he would put his life on the line for her.
Was it because of the connection they had with the Aether Core? Or was it something else?
Unconsciously, your steps faltered backwards. The anxiety for his well-being took a backseat as the grip of jealousy clawed at you.
It was stupid to feel this way.
Suddenly, you felt rooted to the spot, your body freezing in place. The unexpected use of his Evol caught you off guard. 
“You came all the way here, so you’d better damn well listen to me before jumping to any conclusions.”
Even in his weakened state, he managed to pull you back to the edge of the bed and keep you seated there. He wasn’t close enough to touch, but not so far that you couldn’t see the fatigue etched into his features.
“I kept her around because she was useful. Marcel had been trying to frame Onychinus for the bombing.” His fists clenched, knuckles white. “But that wasn’t what set me off, that scumbag had been running his mouth about you, spreading lies of your incompetence, claiming that you’re nothing more than an empty shell.”
You looked at his injuries pointedly. “You took on his entire army because he taunted me?”
He sighed deeply, rubbing a hand over his face in frustration. “Don’t you see? I was the one feeding him that narrative. He had the front seat to everything that happened that day. I’m the one who unravelled the respect you worked so hard to earn.”
Was that a hint of guilt you heard in his voice?
“He’d been saying that you’d be better suited working in a whorehouse.”
Well, that explained the man's aggressiveness back at the bar, you thought.
“I’m not your responsibility anymore, you don’t need to protect me.”
Sylus looked away. Despite his rough edges, there was a glint of raw, exposed emotion that he struggled to conceal.
“It’s not just about responsibility,” his voice low, “Some things... they’re not as simple as just walking away.”
This was the Sylus you recognised—the same man who, in fleeting moments, had looked at you with an intensity or a softness that spoke of unfulfilled longing.
Everything had shifted since that one kiss, an impulsive act born from an evening of too much drink and unspoken feelings. A kiss that, in its haze, blurred the lines between what was accepted and what was desired.
Yet, every subtle brush of his hands, every act of ensuring your safety, was a quiet rebellion against the boundaries he had set from the start—this was not a place where work and pleasure were meant to mingle.
“That was the reason you called the deal off that day.” You fit the puzzles together.
He nodded. “I had a feeling that he was up to something.”
“And yet, I still don’t understand why you had to go behind my back with the hunter. This”—you gestured to his injuries and the distance between you—“could’ve been prevented.”
You tried to mask the hurt. “I thought you trusted me.”
Sylus shifted closer, and even though you felt that his Evol no longer held you in place, you allowed him.
“It wasn’t about trust, not in the way you think,” his voice was softer now, “If he found out you were involved, I couldn’t risk him coming after you.”
“I don’t need your protection as much as I need your honesty. And you were being a jerk.”
“I know and I’m sorry. I just wanted to keep you safe.”
He reached out, his fingers gently tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. Leaning in closer, he cradled your jaw with a careful touch.
“Thank you,” you whispered, your voice catching in your throat at the intensity in his eyes that he didn’t try to mask any longer. “For caring. But I’d rather not see you get hurt again.”
“Can’t promise,” he murmured, “I will always stand between you and anyone who dares to harm you.”
You could feel the warmth of his breath before his lips touched yours, moving in a gentle, unhurried rhythm.
He wanted to savour this moment, to truly taste you with a clear head, unclouded by any alcohol.
Though, before long, a more primal voice seemed to overtake him. The intensity of the kiss grew, fueled by the unfiltered emotions coursing between you.
It was a fierce, unrestrained need to claim you.
No longer feeling tender, his tongue urged your lips open with a determined persistence. Sylus groaned into your mouth as you parted easily, the need to taste you becoming more urgent.
As he took a fistful of your hair, pulling your head back, your gaze locked with the searing flame in his eyes.
A sudden weight pressed against your neck, and you looked down, startled, to find a crow whose wings arched protectively around a red diamond pendant. It was similar to the brooch he had given you, but this was more than an accessory.
It was more personal—more intimate.
“Will you do me the honour of becoming my partner again?” His voice was husky with emotion. “Onychinus needs you. I need you.”
Carefully, you pushed him down the bed, legs spreading daringly caging his form. “Maybe if you beg a little more, I’ll consider it.” 
Both his eyebrows arched in surprise, visibly taken aback by your boldness.
“But, weren’t we supposed to keep work and pleasure separate?” you teased.
A hint of a smirk curled at the edges of his lips. “I’m the boss. I make the rules. Besides, this is more than just a pleasure.”
His large palms settled on your hips, fingers splaying across the curve of your body with a possessive yet tender grip, pulling you closer.
“Can I start by begging you to kiss my wounds and make them better then?”
As he whispered his request, his masculine hands sneaked their way inside your clothes, fingers trailing a line of fire against your skin. Just as the moment heated up, a rustling noise came from outside the door.
The two of you paused, eyes narrowing with suspicion. 
Suddenly, the door creaked open just a fraction. Before either of you could react, Luke and Kieran let out a startled yelp.
“Oh no! They’re doing the hanky panky!” Luke whispered loudly, scandalised.
In a flurry of hurried movements, the twins slammed the door closed and bolted down the hallway, leaving you both staring after them in stunned silence.
Sylus sighed, hiding his face in the soft bend of your neck. “We’ll definitely have to set some new rules about privacy too.”
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rinhaler · 5 months
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Don’t You Love It When I Come Around?
Your relationship with him is so toxic. But no matter how hard you try to end things, he always worms his way back between your legs.
✧˖*°࿐: 18+ only, no minors.    ✧. ┊ takuma ino x f!reader
Genre: porn! with a plot! Notes: in january i told u guys to send ino prompts and i would write my favourite and here it is, I'll add the ask below ! Warnings: 18+, fem!reader, dubcon (he's high), toxic relationship, exes to lovers?, rich boy!ino, dacryphilia, pussy eating ♡, light nipple play, vaginal sex, love making ♡, drool ♡, praise, slight orgasm denial, scratching, creampie ♡, manipulation, calls your pussy she/her, pet names (princess, baby/babe, gorgeous etc.) Words: 4.6k
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He loves you.
He wouldn’t keep coming back to you with such urgency and wanton if he didn’t love you so ardently. But you ended things, and for the first time there was some finality to the breakup. You’re weak with your will and conviction, usually. You can’t take it anymore, you can’t.
Being second best to every other thing is his life is too hard.
His friends, his family.
Drugs.
You want to be his top priority, but you never will be. It weighs heavy in your heart whenever you’re with him, you don’t feel the type of love you want to feel from him. The kind where you know he’d kiss the ground you walk on and worship your very existence.
Fairy tale love, romance movie love.
He isn’t capable. And it’s taken you too long to realise it.
And usually, you crumble when he begs. His pleas and promises to change always sway you into believing him, despite knowing the truth that he’ll never change for you. He thinks money carries the same weight as love. He thinks his daddy’s credit card is the answer to all of his problems.
He wants to believe you can be bought.
He truly believes that he can buy your subservience with the same unearned money he uses to pay his dealer in fat wads of cash.
The day you met his dealer is the day you think things really began to fall apart between you. He wouldn’t refrain from making lewd comments about you, a fact that has stopped you from going with him to pick up since that first encounter. Your boyfriend didn’t chastise him, no. Instead, he played along. Joking that he’d be willing to share during your most intimate moments or even give you up completely to use as a payment instead of actually paying.
You broke up with him that night, leaving him alone with his friend. He didn’t even bother chasing after you to apologise. He didn’t care enough to check if you were okay, either. It hurt you to think that he was laughing it off with Sukuna, imagining him so nonchalant and uncaring broke your heart.
And you’re lucky you didn’t have to see that you were exactly right.
You can’t even remember why you forgave him that time, it should have been the final straw. He came over, sneaking into your window after your parents turned in for the night. It’s like he’d been waiting for all of the lights to go out. He lifted it, effortlessly, before he stepped inside. He hushed your protests and panic as you worried your parents would hear and before you knew it, he was your boyfriend again.
You jolt from your thoughts as you hear a struggle to your left. Your eyes linger on the window as you notice Takuma try his hardest to lift it open. He looks up and sees you staring, and you recognise something akin to fear sprawled across his pretty face.
He can’t remember the last time you locked the window.
“Baby, please.” he whispers. You shush him, determined to be strong as you approach the window and look at him sternly.
It’s the first time in over a week since you’ve laid eyes on each other, it should have been harder than it was. But you’ve had plenty of practice from when he goes on drink and drug infused benders and doesn’t even bother to send a measly text to let you know he’s alive.
Your fists clench tightly as you hold your parted curtains, though your will begins to dissipate as you see his soft brown stare up at you so pathetically. It feels like love. Maybe one more chance wouldn’t—
“Let me in, baby, ‘m so cold.” he tells you, squatting awkwardly on the roof as he tries to convince you to see things his way. Your blood begins to boil again as you remember how fucking entitled is. Entitled in life and entitled to you. Not this time. “I think it’s gonna—” the metal curtain pole hisses as you abruptly shut them and shut him out of your life for good.
“Go home, Takuma…” you sigh, your own purposiveness decaying as your body seems to crave him, you want to help him, despite knowing you’re being manipulated.
“Oh come on. Don’t do this, princess. It’s starting to rain!” he tells you.
You can’t listen to him. You grab your headphones from your desk and put them over your ears. You quickly scroll through your music library until you find your feel-good playlist and turn the volume to max. Sure you might go deaf in a few years, but it’s better than listening to him do all he can to get you to let him in.
The paranoia of not knowing what he’s doing or saying out there pricks at your skin like needles. Your senses are sharp despite cancelling one of them out. You begin to hear creaks of the window and calls of your name you’re certain you can’t be hearing. Your dad will come to berate you and him if he gets too rowdy. He wouldn’t risk it.
INO: Gonna start singing if you don’t let me in 💕
You learn forward in your seat as you read his message. He’s bluffing, he has to be. And yet, it scares you enough to pull your headphones down while your music continues to play through them. His knuckles are rapping against the window repeatedly without stopping as he waits for you to reply. He gives you a few minutes before the knocking stops, and while you hope he’s given up, you look down at your messages to see three dreaded dots appear.
INO: You’re so cute when you’re mad
INO: What song should I sing?
You freeze as you hear him hum, even over the sound of the rain pelting down against the roof shingles and the glass of your window. It’s a song you recognise instantly, the first song you danced to together when you met at a club two years ago.
“Come on baby, let me iiiiin~!” he speak-sings in tune with the beat and you know it’s only going to get worse. You try to hold strong, you do. The thought of giving him the satisfaction and ultimately the gateway to him winning you back makes your stomach churn, you don’t want to keep being this girl.
But you’ve always been weak when it comes to him.
The shriek of your curtains opening again puts a swift end to Takuma’s singing. His face lights up, and it makes you even angrier. He watches you intently as you unlock the window for him, but you step away to allow him the honour of opening it for himself.
“Shit baby, I’m soaked. Why didn’t you let me in sooner?” he asks, he wrings out his beanie on your bedroom carpet before tossing it aside completely. You roll your eyes as he shuts the window and begins to undress. “C’moooon, you’re not really giving me the silent treatment, are ya?”
You sigh and sit on your bed, carefully taking off your headphones and tucking them back into their protective casing. He barely even looks at you as you tuck your knees up to your chest and observe his every move.
“What do you want Takuma…” you pout. “I told you I don’t wanna see you anymore. Why are you here?” you ask.
He kisses his teeth, the sound makes your skin pinch together and you suddenly feel the harsh chill of the outside breaking in. He smiles at you, his sweet innocent face and warm brown eyes are almost enough to thaw you out.
“You didn’t really mean that, did ya?” he wonders. “Baby, I love you.” he kicks off his shoes and begins to undress. The audaciousness of him is never lost on you, but tonight he’s really something. He sits on the edge of your bed, his back facing you while he moves at a glacial pace.
He’s high. It’s obvious.
The sculptured muscles of his back flex and ripple as he takes off his socks, flinging them without a care in any direction before he stands up to look at you. You swallow, hard, as the buckle of his belt begins to clink before he pulls it out of the belt loops with one hand. Your eyes stay fixed on his as his arm extends and he lets it fall from his grip.
“Bet you’ve missed this dick, baby,” he smirks. “Can see it in your eyes. You’ve missed me.”
You roll your eyes despite his words hitting a nerve. His vision drops as he unbuttons his jeans, missing the way you squirm as you reposition yourself on the bed, tucking your knees further into your chest as you continue to stare while he takes off his clothes.
“Why do you play these games, princess? You know you always come back to me.”
“It’s not a game. I’m done with you, for real this time.” you protest. The way he bites his lip makes you angrier as he climbs on the bed with you, the mattress dipping as he slowly crawls towards you like he has so many times before.
He thinks, he knows everything you say it futile, regardless of how determined you are to not succumb to him for the umpteenth time.
“Take this off, gorgeous,” he demands as his fingers curl into the elastic waistband of your pleated skirt. You shake your head lightly, heart battering in your chest like a drum solo. He snarls, at that, like he hears your heart fighting against your weak defiance. “Suit yourself.” he mutters.
His hands wrap around your thighs and he drags you down the length of the mattress. It takes everything within you not to scream, the thought of being caught by your parents like this makes your whole body sear with heat.
“I’m—” you squeak, a little too loudly. You clear your throat and look at him, your eyes shaking with apprehension and anxiety. He wets his lips as he looks at you, waiting for you to continue. “I’m not fucking you. N-Not tonight. Not ever. Never again, Takuma… I m-mean it. We’re through!”
He sighs, a little pout forming on his lips as he crawls over your body. He cages you beneath him, looking down at you with a moue of dissatisfaction.
“What about a kiss baby? Can I have a kiss, just one?” he asks. His voice is soft and shallow. His honeyed eyes make you crumble as he stares at you with an intensity you’ve never felt from him before. Is it desperation? Is it panic that he’s really losing his grip on you? You can’t even look at him directly, each turn of your head causes him to angle his own so he can continue to stare you down.
And it works.
“Just a kiss.” you mumble, your whole body relaxes when he smiles. It’s such a sweet smile, the one that always adorned his gentle face when you first met. You’ve missed it, dearly.
Your eyes flutter closed as his lips land on yours. It’s chaste, quick, and leaves you wanting more.
“One more kiss, baby. Please?”
You nod, closing your eyes again. You startle when you feel the mattress shift dramatically. Words stay lodged in your throat as you see him on the ground, on his knees, looking up at you between your legs.
“No panties? Must’a known I was coming.” he grins. He flips up the material only slightly. His head disappears beneath the black pleats.
It’s pathetic, truly, the whimper that flees from you when he presses a delicate kiss to your clit. You cover your mouth with your hand, and you even surprise yourself when you feel tears roll down your cheeks.
“Can I kiss her again, princess? Wanna make out with her… do you want me to?” he wonders, repeating the same kiss again… again… and again.
“Y-Yes, Takuma please.” you moan. Your fingers card through his brunette locks, urging him closer to your heat. He complies, desperately. He slowly swirls his tongue over your swollen clit, humming contently as he encourages you to rest your legs over his shoulders.
The pleasure overwhelms you, and you allow yourself to lie comfortably against the mattress. Deep down you knew, you both knew, you were always going to end up like this.
You look between the valley of your breasts when you regain your stability. The shape of his head makes your own begin to spin as you see the material of your skirt move in tandem with his actions. The way he slurps and suckles on your flesh makes it all too clear, you’ll never be able to quit him. Not really, not when he’s so perfect when he’s like this.
Maybe he does love you, maybe all of the things he tells you when you shut him out for so long are indeed true. How else would he be able to ravage you with such vigour and passion? The only time you know him to have drive and patience is in moments like this.
He’s spoilt, but not with you.
He’s a giver, only for you.
Your back arches from the bed when the tip of his tongue targets a particularly sensitive spot between your folds. You moan, you whine, and it only encourages him more. He doesn’t stop when your thighs begin to clamp around his head. It’s more fuel to the fire, you have to smother any and all sounds that want to escape from your body with your hand.
And that, he sees as a challenge.
He holds under the bend of your knee and pushes it, so gently, towards your chest. And still, you feel like the air has been knocked from your lungs. Your skirt is forcibly moved by the action and his face is revealed once more. His eyes glitter and shimmer with expectance and desire as he sees your own face contort from the pleasure he’s forcing upon you.
His lips suction around your clit and he sucks like it’s his sole purpose on earth. Your eyes roll back, and you practically scream into your palm. His hand wanders purposefully to cup your breast. He squeezes experimentally, rubbing his thumb over the material of your top to tease your peaked nipple. The feeling of that is almost enough to make you unravel, your hips jerk at the contact, and he decides to take it further.
He breaches the edge of your crop top, desperate to feel your soft naked mound. Your eyes fill with water and spill consistently as he adds rolling your pebbled nipple between his thumb and forefinger to the intense amalgamation of pleasure.
“Ino… fuck,” you whisper pathetically, freeing your mouth momentarily to utter his name. To warn him. “I’m gonna cum.”
“… I know.” he mumbles before maintaining his efforts. His tongue swipes quickly over your clit, you whimper and your toes can’t help but curl as he doesn’t dare let up.
You grip the sheets below, desperate to hang onto something as you feel your body seconds from exploding. He shushes you between licks, drooling over your cunt as his jaw hangs low for you. You do all you can to keep quiet, but it’s a gargantuan task. Especially when you haven’t felt so good for so long, it’s near impossible.
Your legs begin to quiver as you cum. Your pussy gushes and coats his face further. And for once in his life, he isn’t ungrateful. He savours the taste and laps at your folds like a starving man. And after such a long time apart, that’s exactly what he is. He’s ravenous, he’s missed this. He’s missed you. And he’ll never not appreciate how delicious you are. And it’s all for him.
“Made such a pretty mess for me, baby,” he murmurs into your skin, repeatedly planting delicate kisses against your inner thighs. He doesn’t stop as he gets on top of you, showering your stomach in the same soft kisses. Each one infused with his desire for you. His urgency to force you to remember who you belong to and who you need.
Your legs spread beautifully for him, his throbbing cock rubs against your core, dampening the material of his underwear.
His eyes fixate on yours as he looks for permission to kiss you. And you give it, instantly, humming when his lips slot against yours. His tongue delves into your mouth, his hips begin to rut into you as you make out.
You run your fingers through his hair, interlocking your fingers to keep him close as you continue humping against each other. He breathes heavily as he breaks the kiss, staring down at you with a hurt look in his eye.
“What’s wrong?” you ask him quietly. It makes your blood run cold, the fear of wondering if he’s about to go back to the regular Takuma again. The one you’re all too familiar with, The one that always lets you down.
“… Don’t like it when you call me Ino, baby,” he tells you. It’s earnest, a twinge of disappointment laced in his words.
“All of your friends call you Ino, Ino.” you repeat. It makes your heart race to defy him, you seldom do. You’re the perfect girlfriend until you can’t take anymore, but this is different. You’ve never felt bold enough to do this, to attempt to rile him up.
Never.
“Stop that.” he growls, kissing you again. “You’re not my friend. You’re my girlfriend, alright? Say it. Please.”
“I t-told you… I don’t want you back. Only let you in so you wouldn’t wake my parents.”
He stops. He stands on his knee and looks down at you with a little frown, his lower lip almost jutting as he hears you. You can’t tell if he’s actually sad, or if it’s merely panic. “Do you mean that? You don’t want me back?”
You shake your head, despite it being the opposite of what you want. It’s almost as if you’ve been possessed.
“… So you wouldn’t care if I left right now? You don’t want to fuck?” he continues. You can barely look at him, you’ve never seen him like this before. He might actually be upset, he’s experiencing regret for the first time in his entire life.
“Well… if you wanna go, I won’t stop you Takuma.” you shrug, it comes a little too easily. It feels like a dream, or a nightmare to Takuma. He can’t help but stare as he realises he’s lost his control of you.
A hand rests on your knee, while the other carefully rubs the lower half of his face. He wants to ask again. And again. Is that really what you want? But he’s terrified to even think it, let alone say it. Because what if you are sure? He won’t know what to do, he’s never known you to be like this before. Maybe he took too long to come over this time, he got cocky. Assumptions and greed consumed him. He came back to you when he was ready, but he hadn’t accounted for the fact you might grow a backbone in that time.
He lowers himself again, your noses barely touching before he kisses the tip of it.
“You love me, I know you do baby,” he says, faux confidence lingering in his tone. Though you don’t notice, to you, he’s just confident. The sound of tender kisses littering your cheeks is the loudest sound in the room, even louder than his desperate whispers. “You gotta love me… because I love you. So much, baby, please forgive me.”
He doesn’t let up, like he’s transferring a love potion embedded from his lips to seep into your skin. You mewl at the sensation, never knowing him to be this affectionate before. You know why, the agonising realisation that he lost you has him resorting to this last ditch effort.
And you hate him, because it’s working.
“I’ll always love you more than anyone, y’know. I promise. I’ll be better this time…” he tells you, the same sorry line he’s told you so many times before. “Can I put it in, babe? Please… Please let me feel you close one more time, if ya really mean it.” he begs. He moves his lips to yours, hoping to silence you with a kiss to remember. There’s a hunger to it, a desperate craving that he can’t satiate.
He needs your help.
He needs you.
“L-Last time, okay? I mean it, Takuma, I won’t take you back.”
He stopped listening to you after he heard you agree, honestly. Reaching down to pull his boxers just enough for his cock to spring free. He moans, it’s akin to a whine as it slaps against his abdomen. He’s been hard since he got that first kiss from you, and tasting your slick made him ache for you.
He jerks himself a few times before he slips himself inside of your cunt. His cockhead resting carefully in your entrance. His body moves closer to yours as he sinks in further, you both moan in tandem as you stretch and swallow his cock oh so gloriously.
“S-See, baby? See how perfect I fit? ‘Cause you love me so much, and I love you.” he explains gently holding your jaw in his grip so he can force you to look at him. His hips begin to roll, but he can’t let you enjoy it. Your attempt to throw your head back in pleasure with your eyes scrunched closed is thwarted as his hips instantly slow. “You gotta say it. Say it back, princess.”
“I love you, Takuma…” you say, defeated. “You know I’ll always love y-you.”
“Yeah?” he smiles widely, moving his hips once more. “Always gonna be mine?”
“… always.” you nod.
He kisses you again, his body weight almost suffocating you as he rests on top of you. He fucks every ounce of passion and longing into you. He covers your mouth, sensing it’s too much. But he can’t stop. You don’t want him to, you’ve never felt so whole with him.
You’re too fucked out to notice how badly your bed is creaking. Even with your moans trapped behind Takuma’s palm, he’s sure your parents will know he’s here by now.
“Fuuuuck, you’re choking my fuckin’ dick, baby. Gonna make me cum too fast.” he tells you, kissing your forehead as he slams his hips into yours. “So tight for me… my p-perfect girl, aren’t ya?”
You nod desperately, clenching around him at his every word.
“Want you to cum for me… but,” he rests his forehead against yours, alternating his movements to slow and deep rather than hard and fast. It has you drooling against his palm, but he doesn’t mind. He likes you, loves you, when you’re his braindead princess. “I only make my girlfriend cum.”
Your eyes widen in horror as you realise what he’s trying to do. You wish you could say you regret letting him fuck you again. But it’s too good, you’re lost to it. You’re almost dumb enough to agree.
Almost.
He moves his hand and cups your face, imploring you to look him in his eyes and tell him you’re his again.
“I c-can’t,” you sniffle. “Hurts too much being—”
“Hey, hey, hey, don’t say that, princess.” he interrupts, not wanting to hear your thought in full. “Don’t say things you don’t mean. You love me, yeah? Always gonna be my girl. Mine.”
And as if on command, you nod in acceptance. Because he’s right, you will always be his girl. Whether in an official capacity or not. Even the days you’re separated, he’s always on your mind. You worry that weeks, months or even years could pass without him and he’d still be on your mind.
A particular intense stroke inside of your gummy walls makes your body jolt and a heavy moan tears through your throat. He looks down, admiring where to two of you meet before searching your eyes.
“There, baby?” he asks, experimentally thrusting into the same spot. He grins when he hears you keen once again for him, prodding it again and again until your eyes spill over with tears from the blinding pleasure. “Theeeere she is, right there. Bet you wanna cum real bad, ‘cause I do.”
“I do!” you agree, cupping his face gently before kissing him. “I love you, Takuma, please don’t stop,” you whimper.
“I won’t baby, promise.” he assures you. It’s imperceptible, and he’s glad, you can’t see the relief washing over his entire body as he feels safe once again. You’re his, again. There’s nowhere else you should be but with him. “C-Can’t let my girl down, can I?” he grins.
And after everything. All of the hurt, all of the effort, all of the determination, you’re his again. All of that defiance was for nought. And yet, you’re smiling. Your hands helplessly grip his body, nails digging into his shoulder blades as you scratch, attempting to ground yourself.
His lips find yours, eager to silence himself as he brings you both closer and closer to your demise. His breaths are heavy, his nostrils flaring as he continues to pummel into you. Your kiss is sloppy, but perfect. The messy passion heightens your pleasure, somehow. His tongue finding your own reminds you that there’s no one in the world you’d rather be doing this with.
Every plunge of his length against your sweet spot feels like love. Pure, unadulterated, love. Everything you’ve ever wanted, ever needed, from Takuma this time.
And as you cum together, moaning into each other’s mouths, that feels deeper. He looks into your eyes as he fills you to the brim, your walls clench around him, desperate to keep him inside and milk him for all he’s worth. You never want this feeling to end, he’s the man of your dreams.
He kisses your neck as he continues to fuck himself inside of you, making sure to deposit every last drop of his love into you. He feels it too, it feels different to how it usually is.
Better, somehow.
The pecks of his lips slow as he ventures towards yours again. Each kiss is interpolated with ardour. He doesn’t want to risk stopping for fear of all of this coming undone. He doesn’t want you to see sense, again. Despite what you might think, he is in love. A love so intense he couldn’t begin to explain.
He eventually pulls away, bracing himself for what you might say.
But nothing comes.
He’s grinning from ear to ear because you don’t say a word. Not one. But your expression says it all. You look exhausted, but fulfilled. You look beautiful as bliss ravishes your drained form. However even without all that, he only needs to look into your eyes to see it.
You really are his girl again.
He can practically see the hearts shimmering in your irises. You’re looking up at him like you’ve fallen for that signature Takuma charm once again, but are you really so foolish? Even he is a little surprised.
He wants to do better, of course he does. And maybe this time he’ll really try. He doesn’t mean to let you down so often, it’s not like he wants to do it.
That’s just the type of guy he is.
The type to make promises he can’t keep.
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© 2024 rinhaler
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anon: okay but imagine ino sneaking in your bedroom every once in a while and fucking you into forgetting he's an absent boyfriend, he's always smoking with his friend (plug! sukuna *cough cough*) he's a trust fund baby, and the worst boyfriend ever but dick game is so good he has you thinking you can fix him, so every time you let him hit you are looking at him with heart eyes and it almosttt makes him want to do better
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babydollmarauders · 1 year
Text
OHMAMI — QUINN HUGHES
quinn hughes x fem!reader
summary: in which Quinn fucks his girlfriend in the backseat of his new car
warnings: NSFW!!, p in v (unprotected), semi-public sex, daddy kink, oral (f receiving), light choking, praise, dirty talk, dom!quinn, lots of use of the pet name “baby”, slight religious reference (?), pls let me know if i’m missing any.
notes: inspired by OHMAMI by Chase Atlantic (feat. Maggie Lindemann). 4.6k words.
IMPORTANT: please look up Ferrari GTC4Lusso T interior if you need a better understanding of the car layout
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“you’re sure about this?” i mindlessly wander the office of the luxury dealership, my fingertips running over any surface they can touch.
“why wouldn’t i be?” Quinn peers up at me from his spot in a chair, his iphone in his hands, mid-texting his younger brother.
“i don’t know, Q. it’s just a lot of money is all.” shrugging, i shuffle my feet back over to my boyfriend, where i let my hands rest on his shoulders as i stand behind him.
Quinn lets out a chuckle, pulling one of my hands in his and raising it to his lips to press a gentle kiss against my knuckles.
“i appreciate the financial concern, baby, but i think i’ll be okay.”
i sigh, moving around to sit on his lap. “okay.”
his arm spindles around my waist as he draws me back, my back flat against his chest. my fingers unconsciously draw shapes on his forearm, near the crook of his elbow, as he continues texting Jack about the big purchase he’s about to make.
i eye his phone, watching the blue and gray bubbles pop up back and forth and hoping we’ll be done here soon.
two hours of looking at cars, Quinn asking a multitude of questions to the salesman; half an hour of paperwork, and another half hour of waiting for said salesman to run Quinn’s name through the system, checking his credit score and whatever various other things needed to buy such a high-end car. i’ve been stuck at this dealership for three hours now, unplanned, as Quinn had pulled into the establishment after our spur-of-the-moment 3pm lunch date, claiming he just wanted to take a quick look at a couple of cars.
“Quinny,” i breathe out, letting my head fall backwards on his shoulder while his hand starts mindlessly rubbing up and down my thigh. “how much longer will we have to be here?”
“i don’t know, baby. hopefully not too much longer.” he locks his phone, setting it on his thigh and using his now free hand to caress my cheek, simultaneously turning my head to look into my eyes.
“is my girl tired?” he coos at the sight of my fluttering eyelids, leaning in to brush his lips lightly over mine.
“mhm” i hum, burrowing my face in his neck. his hand moves as i do, now resting on the back of my head, holding it in its position.
it’s at this moment that the salesman decides to make his re-entrance. “alright! everything checks out, looks good!”
i immediately attempt to pry myself from my boyfriend, but he holds me in place, clearly not bothered by the new company.
“i knew it would!” Quinn smiles back at the man, putting on his usual charm.
“now all we need is that down payment and you’ll be driving out of here in your very own Ferrari!” the salesman, i haven’t bothered to learn his name, chimes. “do you have a credit card you can give me?”
“yep,” Quinn taps my butt, signaling for me to lift it so he can grab his wallet from his pocket. i do so and he unpockets his wallet before pulling me back down on his lap. “here you go.”
the man takes Quinn’s card, taking a seat at his desk and punching the information from the card before handing it back.
“alright,” he grabs a few papers from the printer behind him, stapling them together and scribbling in a few places before sliding them towards my boyfriend. “just sign here, and here.”
Quinn leans forward and his left arm tightens around my waist to keep me situated on his lap, taking the pen in his right hand and autographing his signature twice.
“congratulations!” the salesman grins, handing the new keys to Quinn and shaking his hand.
“thanks, man.” Quinn smiles crookedly, rising from the chair and bringing me up with him.
we follow behind the salesman, back out to the Ferrari that Quinn just bought; which is now parked next to Jack’s Range Rover, in which we drove here.
i take Jack’s keys from Quinn with a sigh. knowing i’m now responsible for getting such an expensive car back to the lake house is a frightening task that i didn’t expect to be doing today, but one i’m now stuck with nonetheless.
“i’ll see you back at the house, yeah?” Quinn smiles. his hand grips my waist, pulling my lower half into his as he lowers his lips onto mine in a breathless kiss.
“yeah, wish me luck. if i get even a scratch on this car, Jack will have my head on a stick.” i gnaw at my lower lip in anxiety, but his free hand comes up to my chin, his thumb pulling my lip free from my teeth.
“nah, he loves you too much. he’d have my head on a stick.” he laughs, before lightly nudging me back towards the car.
“that’s even worse!” i tease. “how am i supposed to explain to the Canucks that their star defenseman is dead because i scratched his brothers car?”
“eh, you���re smart,” he winks, rounding the Ferrari. “you’ll think of something.”
we climb into the respective cars, and Quinn is gracious enough to wait while i adjust the seat to my height before he begins leading the way to the lake house.
the drive is smooth, and when we arrive at the house, Quinn opens my door as i return the seat adjustments back to the way Jack had them.
“see?” he grins, leaning over my body to unbuckle my seatbelt for me. “the car is all good.”
“it better be. that car is my baby.” Jack pipes up from behind him, making Quinn roll his eyes. “if anything were to happen-”
“yeah, yeah.” he cuts him off. “if anything were to happen to it, you would’ve killed her.”
i feign a gasp, jokingly smacking his arm.
“you said he would kill you.” i say in mock shock.
Quinn shrugs. “i was trying to calm your nerves.”
i playfully push him away, hopping out of the car to face Jack, who’s now too busy ogling the Ferrari to pay any attention to his own vehicle.
“i’m gonna go see if your mom needs any help with dinner.” i announce, already stepping towards the house. “have fun showing off your new toy, babe!”
i pass by a horde of guys on my way into the house, bumping hips with Cole, who ends up giggling.
“going to see the new thing?” i ask, and Trevor stops dead in his tracks.
“that thing is a 2022 Ferrari GTC4Lusso.” Trevor explains, as if i understand a single thing he’s just said.
“sure. whatever it is, it cost a lot.” i shrug, carrying on into the house. “enjoy.”
i join Ellen in the kitchen, making myself busy by tossing together the salad ingredients she has on the counter.
we make small talk as we cook, letting the men have their fun gawking at the new car, and enjoying the silence that comes with it.
“do you wanna go tell them dinner is ready?” she more so tells me to do, and i fake a pout.
“do i have to? it’s so peaceful. we could easily just slip out back and eat dinner by the lake without them ever even noticing.” i wiggle my eyebrows enticingly and she laughs, shooing me off towards the front door.
“i had to try.” i giggle out, opening the front door to the gaggle of men. “boys! dinner’s ready!”
they all make their way up the porch and i stand idly by, waiting for my own man to enter the house. finally, he appears at the very back of the group, smirking as he wraps an arm around my waist, walking me to the dining room.
“i was thinking after dinner, you and i could go for a drive. just us.” he pecks a kiss to my cheek as we sit at the table, and i nod.
“sure, sounds nice.” his hand rests on my thigh now, partly covered by my sundress, and i squirm a little at his touch on my bare skin.
it’s been at least three weeks since Quinn and i have been able to do anything past PG-13, him not wanting to risk it while his parents are here, and i’m starting to feel restless.
the smallest touches from him have been causing me to get slick with need, and i squeeze my thighs together to provide myself some friction, but it never helps. like now.
i know Quinn has caught on because his grip tightens just the slightest bit, his thumb beginning to stroke my skin.
“you okay, baby?” he’s teasing me, asking his question in such a sweet tone that anyone else at the dinner table would think he’s just checking in on his girlfriend, but he and i know that isn’t the case.
“mhm” i hum, attempting to ignore his touch as i fill my plate and his.
“now y/n, Quinn is a grown man with two hands; he can make his own plate, honey.” Ellen jests, poking a dig at her eldest son.
“acts of service is her love language, ma.” Quinn pokes back before pressing another chaste kiss to my cheek, muttering his thank you as we begin to eat.
the table is filled with a generous amount of chatting as we eat; Jack telling a story about something that happened in Jersey, Luke telling everyone about how Luca Fantilli got his head stuck in stair banisters… twice, Trevor going on a long-winded rant about a missed goal; but Quinn and i are mostly silent. Quinn because he’s just almost been more of the listen rather than talk type, and me because i don’t trust my voice while my boyfriend is currently inching his hand up the bottom of my dress.
someone seems to catch onto my lack of interest though, because Alex eyes me curiously from his spot in front of me, and then chooses to speak up.
“you’re quiet tonight, y/n.” his statement draws the attention of the rest of the group, their eyes gravitating towards me.
“just tired.” i fib, my voice tight as Quinn’s hand slowly slides towards my inner thigh, now just far enough away that if he spreads his fingers, his pinky will graze against my wet panties. “who knew three hours at a car dealership could be so draining.”
Cole laughs, obviously buying my lie, which causes the rest of the table to chuckle.
“oh yeah, honey. buying a car will do that.” Ellen sympathizes. “the long process sucks the life right out of you.”
the chatter carries on around me and i return to my silence. dinner has long since been finished, and Luke proposes making s’mores for dessert, so Quinn takes that as our chance to escape.
“you guys go ahead,” he starts. his warm touch disappears from my skin as he rises from his chair. “y/n and i are gonna go for a drive. i wanna show her why this purchase was worth it.”
he holds his hand out for mine and i falter, looking between Ellen and him.
“i usually help your mom with the dishes.” i remind him, gesturing towards the table full of plates.
“oh don’t worry about it,” Ellen chimes. “Jack can help me.”
“i- what?” Jack sputters, finally looking away from the phone screen he’s been engrossed in for the past few minutes. “what about me? i was checking the Yankees score.”
Quinn rolls his eyes at his younger brother, shaking his head as he grasps my hand, pulling me up from my seat and leading me through the house.
“we’ll be back in a little bit!” he calls out as we exit through the front door.
climbing into the car, i can feel the excitement radiating off of him.
“okay, i know i’m not a car person, but what is a drive in it supposed to show me?” i ask as he starts the engine. his hand gravitates to the back of my headrest as he reverses out of the driveway, his eyes flicking between the backup camera and the back window of the car.
it should be illegal to be this hot while reversing a car.
fuck, y/n. focus.
“you’ll understand once you ride it.”
i scan his body, my eyes lingering in one specific place.
i can think of something i’d like to ride.
shit, y/n. think with your brain, not your hormones.
“okay.” i drag out, leaning back in the seat and relaxing as he drives down the street.
the car is quiet besides the soft hum of the radio, tuned into a random pop hits station that i know Quinn turned on just for me.
his left hand sits on the steering wheel, while his right reaches over to lay upon my thigh, causing my thoughts to run wild. fantasies and memories of us tangled in the sheets, his hand on my throat as he hovers above me, or better yet; his hand in between my legs, his fingers working me toward my orgasm.
i can feel my skin get red and hot, as i imagine all the ways i would be with him if we weren’t stuck in a house full of people.
… but we’re not there now.
Quinn exits onto the highway, the car speeding up as he does so, and i glance toward the back seat.
it’s small, but we could make it work.
my hand snakes up to sit on top of his and his eyes flicker towards me, a soft smile resting on his lips at the sweet gesture. and i let him believe that for a few minutes before i’m pulling his hand up my thigh, closer towards my soaking core.
“baby-” he breathes out, his words failing him when he finally feels how wet i am.
“we’re all alone.” i state, my head lolling back against the seat as his fingers start stroking me through my panties like they have a mind of their own.
“baby, i’m driving.” his voice is strained, a vein popping out on his neck as he clenches his jaw.
my hand leaves his, instead reaching over to palm him through his jeans, in which his left hand leaves the wheel to lightly swat mine away.
“i can’t drive if you do that.”
i huff but it blends into a moan as his thumb begins to circle my clit.
“so, pull over.” i suggest, ready for something more.
he’s hesitant, i can tell, so i pull out the secret weapon.
“please, daddy.” i whimper, reaching over to palm his now hard cock once more.
“fuck.” he curses, switching lanes to get off on the next exit.
he quickly finds a mostly abandoned lookout, only one other car parked on the other side of the lot, and switches into park.
his eyes are cloudy with need as he turns to look at me, his fingers still working themselves on my bundle of nerves. my breaths come out in heavy pants that mingle with moans.
“faster.” i plead, but rather than obeying my lust-hazed command, he pulls his hand away completely. i mewl at the loss of touch, but his hand winds up to the base of my neck, his grasp just light enough to remind me who’s in charge, but not tight enough to do any harm to my air supply.
“you don’t call the shots here, darling.” he whispers before pulling me by his grip into a bruising kiss.
his tongue brushes against mine and his teeth bite down on my lower lip, making me whimper. when he pulls away, i can just barely make out his features within the darkness of the Ferrari.
“get in the back.” he orders and i scramble to unbuckle my seatbelt, climbing over the center console and into the divided backseat.
rather than joining me by climbing back, Quinn exits the car, rounding the front and opening the passenger side door. he pulls the passenger seat forward, climbing in on his knees and shutting the door, the seat still pulled as far forward as it’ll go.
his arms hook around my legs, pulling me forward so that i’m slumped in the seat, my ass sitting on the edge. he looks up at me with dark eyes, placing my legs over his shoulders as he leans forward.
his hands glide up my legs, bunching my sundress up to my waist. his tongue licks a stripe over my clothed cunt and i shudder, my left hand attempting to grip at the leather of the backseat center console, as my right finds itself tangled in his hair.
he pulls away, despite my attempts to hold him in place, and his fingertips play with the waistband of my lacy yellow panties.
“beg me.” he insists, teasing me by hooking his fingers in the sides of my underwear, but not making any further moves.
“please, Quinn.” i plead, and he pulls one side away from my skin then lets it snap back into place, causing me to jolt.
“uh-uh.” he shakes his head, backing away just slightly.
“please, daddy, please.” i cry out, attempting to pull him in again. “i’ll be good, i promise.”
“yeah?” Quinn taunts, slowly pulling my panties down my legs as i lift myself just barely from the seat. he knocks my legs from his shoulders, pulling the under garment off and throwing it in the front seat.
“mhm.” i nod my head wildly, my brows raising as i do so. “i’ll be so good. just please, please, do something.”
Quinn wastes no more time, pushing one of my legs up to hook over the backseat center console as the other hooks over his shoulder. he dives down, licking up my heat like a man starved.
his tongue circles my clit and my head drops back, but he provides a swift smack to my thigh to remind me to look at him. one of his rules.
i bite my lip to try and muffle my cries of pleasure, his hand rising to pull the top of my dress down just enough for my breasts to pop out. he grips one, harshly squeezing before he pinches at my nipple.
my jaw drops open, a breathy moan escaping my lips as my back attempts to arch in the small space.
“fuck!” i cry out, tugging at his hair. “yes, daddy!”
he shifts between sucking on clit to licking in my cunt, fucking me with his tongue. my hips stutter and he holds my leg open as it tries to unhook itself from the console in order to close on his head.
i tug again at his hair, pushing his head further into me, and he moans, the vibrations flowing straight into my core. i cry out again, the familiar knot in my stomach slowly building the longer he continues.
“please!” i whine. “please, make me come!”
Quinn’s dips down to show more love to my pussy, and his nose brushes against my clit, my hips immediately beginning to grind against him. my legs begin to shake and i can feel myself getting closer and closer to release.
“right there! don’t stop!”
i’m sure anyone outside the car can probably hear my screams, but it doesn’t deter me. too busy chasing my high to care what anyone else may think.
of course, Quinn doesn’t listen, knowing my body well enough to know exactly what will set me off. his lips close around my clit, sucking and flicking his tongue, and it only takes a few moments for me to reach the edge.
“i’m gonna come! fuck, i’m gonna come!” i warn him but he only pushes deeper, flicking his tongue faster against the button of nerves, and i let out a guttural moan as i finally let go, coming on his face. he laps at my release, riding me through my orgasm, only stopping once i begin to twitch at the feeling.
“now you see why i won’t do anything at the house?” he teases, smirking as he wipes at the juices on his chin with the back of his hoodie sleeve. “you’re so vocal. i love it, but i don’t want anyone else hearing your sounds. they’re just for me.”
my hand hook around the nape of his neck and i pull him up to my face, pressing my lips against his. he moans into the kiss and i can taste myself on his lips; slightly sweet, slightly salty, and it turns me on; pushing me towards another round.
i release him from my grasp, lightly shooing him backwards and fiddling with the button on his pants.
“i want you to fuck me.” i breathe out, pulling his zipper down.
“oh yeah?” his smirk grows, clearly not expecting any more than we just did.
“yes, please.” i nod, pulling his pants down, his erection popping free and slapping against his clothed torso. “please fuck me, daddy.”
i maneuver myself onto my knees, slowly bending myself over the center console, allowing my right leg to straighten some, my foot dropping down to the floor of the car as the other leg stays bent on the backseat; allowing him a full view of my glistening pussy.
“since you asked so nicely, baby.” Quinn joins me on the seat, knelt behind me at a slightly awkward angle as he pulls his pants down some more.
i bite back a giddy smile, waiting impatiently for him to fill me up, and i’m not disappointed when i look back to find him grasping his cock. he runs it through my folds a few times, lubing himself up with my release, and i arch my back to better accommodate him.
my eyes roll back, a moan bubbling up my throat as he pushes his tip into my entrance, thrusting in just slightly before pulling back and repeating.
“daddy, please.” i whine, still frustratingly horny and awaiting his full size.
it doesn’t take any more begging than that, Quinn suddenly bottoming out inside me.
“fuck, baby, you feel so good.” he groans, but i’m too busy choking out my own cries to reply.
he begins thrusting slowly, and i nearly let out a sob of relief at the feeling.
“whadd’ya think?” he asks, his voice strained as he thrusts into me, fucking my hips into the leather of the center console. “how does my cock feel, fucking your greedy little pussy?”
“so good!” i exclaim, pushing back against him. my eyes squeeze shut as his hand wraps around my throat, the other gripping my hip. “feels so good!”
“love watching your ass bounce off me as i fuck you like this.” he groans and his dirty talk succeeds in making me clench around him, causing him to moan.
i peek back to find his head thrown back, his jaw slack and his eyes firmly shut for a moment before he looks back down, making eye contact with me.
he leans forward, his front pressing against my back as he kisses my lips, nipping at my lips before he pulls back and continues fucking into me at a faster rhythm.
my head drops forward, my hair curtaining my face, and i let out a cry of pleasure as he begins rubbing my clit.
my back arches again, and i whimper when his hand leaves my throat in order to smooth down my spine, pushing my back down further.
“taking me so well.” he praises, thrusting harder than before, and i can feel the knot that had just come undone, tangling back together. “such a good girl for me.”
”only for you, daddy.” he continues his assault on my clit and the sensation mixed with the fullness of him pushing into me makes my legs begin to shake once more.
i can feel his dick pulsating, and his strokes become sloppier, assuring me that he’s close. i clench around him, my eyes rolling back and stars dancing in my vision.
“oh god, i’m coming!” i announce.
Quinn grips my hip tight, “god isn’t in this car, baby.”
my hips begin to falter in their movements, my body locking up and my breath catching in my throat as i come for the second time tonight.
my orgasm spurs on his; his hips stuttering and his breathing falling heavy, a grunt escaping his lips as he finishes inside of me.
his thrusts stop, the car falling silent except our heavy pants as we catch our breath. the windows are fogged, the scent of sex lingering around us.
Quinn pulls out of me and i slump against the center console, listening to him pull his pants back up. he pulls my sundress back down to cover my ass before he sits, gripping my hips and pulling me back and onto his lap, my back now pressed against the side of the car.
my head lolls sideways onto his shoulder, my eyes closed, and he chuckles, tucking a lock of hair behind my ear. caressing my cheek, he pecks a soft kiss onto my nose and the corners of my lips twitch up in a smile.
“worth the wait?” he questions and my eyelids flutter open. i nod, craning my neck to kiss his cheek, and he smiles.
“my girl needs some sleep, huh?” he asks, and i nod again, but make no moves to get up. “let’s get you home.”
my limbs feel like jello as i climb out of the car, letting him out before i push the passenger seat back and sit back down, buckling up. Quinn rounds the car, climbing into the drivers side and starting the engine once more.
but before beginning to drive, he reaches down and pulls my panties out from under his thigh. laughing, he hands them back to me, and i giggle as i pull them back on.
the ride home is mostly quiet, my head resting against the cool glass window and our hands laced together, with his right one back in its place on the steering wheel.
“well,” i start as we pull into the driveway, my voice hoarse from my earlier cries. “we christened the car.”
Quinn lets out a hearty laugh, letting go of my hand to put the car in park and turn off the engine.
he jumps out of the car as i unbuckle, making his way around to my door and letting me out.
“what do you think the odds are that they’ll be asleep?” he grins as i pretend to ponder his question.
“your parents? one hundred percent. everyone else? maybe twenty percent.” i joke and he shrugs.
“i’ll take those odds.” we make our way up the porch and he unlocks the door, attempting to stay quiet in order to sneak past any stray boys still in the open space of the house.
but luck is officially not on our side as we open the front door to the living room full of his brothers and their friends on the couch playing video games.
Quinn quietly curses as heads turn to look at us, and Trevor is the first to put together our long drive and our disheveled appearances. he busts out in laughter, pointing between my boyfriend and i.
“oh you guys fucked.” he cackles, wheezing in amusement.
Jack and Luke’s noses scrunch for a moment before they too join in on the laughter, but luckily Alex and Cole just shake their heads at their friends.
“you guys are so immature.” Quinn scoffs, lacing his hand in mine as we head toward the stairs, up to our bedroom.
“in the new car, guys? seriously?” Jack calls out, and his older brother rolls his eyes, continuing up the stairs.
“goodnight!”
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fuck-customers · 5 months
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My store has a VERY lenient return policy.
(Personally, I think it's TOO lenient.)
The policy is:
•return WITH receipt= full refund, refund goes back on original form of payment, except for debit. Returns that were paid debit get cash refunds.
•return WITHOUT receipt= lowest price of item in last 90 days, store credit
•opened packages are returnable
•used products are returnable (this one has some restrictions, but not really. Cashiers are only "supposed" to accept returns if the item is still sellable, but most cashiers don't inspect the items and if a cashier deems the product unsellable, the customer bitches to the manager who licks their entire ass and does a full refund for them)
•seasonal products are returnable even after season has ended (Christmas items can be returned all year, same with Easter, Halloween, etc)
•there is seemingly no restrictions on how soon a customer has to return an item. Just 2 weeks ago (March 2024) I had a customer bring in products and a receipt from 2019 and the system accepted it. It had been so long that we literally got a whole new register system in between the original purchase and the return and it STILL went through.
What the store DOESN'T accept for returns:
• Products from other companies?? Hello??
This woman brought in a bag from a completely different company (the logos aren't similar and the colors are completely different. Red and blue compared to green and white) And at first, I thought she just recycled the bag, but she pulled out a receipt from the red and blue store and an item that I'm 100% positive was never sold at my company and wouldn't listen when I repeatedly explained that I COULD NOT refund an item we have never sold. I scanned the item on the register and showed her the error message that said "item not in inventory" I showed her that the item was in fact on her receipt from Red And Blue Store and showed her the big ass Red And Blue Store label on the receipt. I fucking called a manager over because she insisted and was adamant that she bought the item here. The MANAGER said the same fucking thing about the receipt and item being from a completely different company. 20 minutes later, she finally fucking gave up and accepted that she couldn't scam us today.
Which. It's SO easy to scam this store. Just steal an item. We do not have security. We have security cameras, but I suspect they don't work, since no one has been banned for shoplifting or anything and I KNOW people shoplift. (I support it and look the other way) We do not have enough staff to patrol the store, so the only staff members are 1 cashier and 1 department monitor and as long as you don't blatantly steal in front of the cashier, you're good. We do not have sensors on the door. 90% of the products are not locked up. Basically just don't steal spray paint, because that's the one thing that's locked up. And if you DO steal, just be cool about it and don't draw attention to yourself. We do not check bags or pockets or anything like that. And if you panic and run, just don't stop running until you're outside of the building. We are not allowed to chase you outside of the building.
And if you manage to get through these unbelievably easy obstacles and steal some items, you can just fucking bring them back and say you lost your receipt but want to return them and you will literally get free money. Sure, it's a gift card, but if the return is under $5, you get cash. Green Crafts and Fabric Store fyi for anyone who wants some free shit.
Posted by admin Rodney.
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mariacallous · 1 month
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The flood of text messages started arriving early this year. They carried a similar thrust: The United States Postal Service is trying to deliver a parcel but needs more details, including your credit card number. All the messages pointed to websites where the information could be entered.
Like thousands of others, security researcher Grant Smith got a USPS package message. Many of his friends had received similar texts. A couple of days earlier, he says, his wife called him and said she’d inadvertently entered her credit card details. With little going on after the holidays, Smith began a mission: Hunt down the scammers.
Over the course of a few weeks, Smith tracked down the Chinese-language group behind the mass-smishing campaign, hacked into their systems, collected evidence of their activities, and started a months-long process of gathering victim data and handing it to USPS investigators and a US bank, allowing people’s cards to be protected from fraudulent activity.
In total, people entered 438,669 unique credit cards into 1,133 domains used by the scammers, says Smith, a red team engineer and the founder of offensive cybersecurity firm Phantom Security. Many people entered multiple cards each, he says. More than 50,000 email addresses were logged, including hundreds of university email addresses and 20 military or government email domains. The victims were spread across the United States—California, the state with the most, had 141,000 entries—with more than 1.2 million pieces of information being entered in total.
“This shows the mass scale of the problem,” says Smith, who is presenting his findings at the Defcon security conference this weekend and previously published some details of the work. But the scale of the scamming is likely to be much larger, Smith says, as he didn't manage to track down all of the fraudulent USPS websites, and the group behind the efforts have been linked to similar scams in at least half a dozen other countries.
Gone Phishing
Chasing down the group didn’t take long. Smith started investigating the smishing text message he received by the dodgy domain and intercepting traffic from the website. A path traversal vulnerability, coupled with a SQL injection, he says, allowed him to grab files from the website’s server and read data from the database being used.
“I thought there was just one standard site that they all were using,” Smith says. Diving into the data from that initial website, he found the name of a Chinese-language Telegram account and channel, which appeared to be selling a smishing kit scammers could use to easily create the fake websites.
Details of the Telegram username were previously published by cybersecurity company Resecurity, which calls the scammers the “Smishing Triad.” The company had previously found a separate SQL injection in the group’s smishing kits and provided Smith with a copy of the tool. (The Smishing Triad had fixed the previous flaw and started encrypting data, Smith says.)
“I started reverse engineering it, figured out how everything was being encrypted, how I could decrypt it, and figured out a more efficient way of grabbing the data,” Smith says. From there, he says, he was able to break administrator passwords on the websites—many had not been changed from the default “admin” username and “123456” password—and began pulling victim data from the network of smishing websites in a faster, automated way.
Smith trawled Reddit and other online sources to find people reporting the scam and the URLs being used, which he subsequently published. Some of the websites running the Smishing Triad’s tools were collecting thousands of people’s personal information per day, Smith says. Among other details, the websites would request people’s names, addresses, payment card numbers and security codes, phone numbers, dates of birth, and bank websites. This level of information can allow a scammer to make purchases online with the credit cards. Smith says his wife quickly canceled her card, but noticed that the scammers still tried to use it, for instance, with Uber. The researcher says he would collect data from a website and return to it a few hours later, only to find hundreds of new records.
The researcher provided the details to a bank that had contacted him after seeing his initial blog posts. Smith declined to name the bank. He also reported the incidents to the FBI and later provided information to the United States Postal Inspection Service (USPIS).
Michael Martel, a national public information officer at USPIS, says the information provided by Smith is being used as part of an ongoing USPIS investigation and that the agency cannot comment on specific details. “USPIS is already actively pursuing this type of information to protect the American people, identify victims, and serve justice to the malicious actors behind it all,” Martel says, pointing to advice on spotting and reporting USPS package delivery scams.
Initially, Smith says, he was wary about going public with his research, as this kind of “hacking back” falls into a “gray area”: It may be breaking the Computer Fraud and Abuse Act, a sweeping US computer-crimes law, but he’s doing it against foreign-based criminals. Something he is definitely not the first, or last, to do.
Multiple Prongs
The Smishing Triad is prolific. In addition to using postal services as lures for their scams, the Chinese-speaking group has targeted online banking, ecommerce, and payment systems in the US, Europe, India, Pakistan, and the United Arab Emirates, according to Shawn Loveland, the chief operating officer of Resecurity, which has consistently tracked the group.
The Smishing Triad sends between 50,000 and 100,000 messages daily, according to Resecurity’s research. Its scam messages are sent using SMS or Apple’s iMessage, the latter being encrypted. Loveland says the Triad is made up of two distinct groups—a small team led by one Chinese hacker that creates, sells, and maintains the smishing kit, and a second group of people who buy the scamming tool. (A backdoor in the kit allows the creator to access details of administrators using the kit, Smith says in a blog post.)
“It’s very mature,” Loveland says of the operation. The group sells the scamming kit on Telegram for a $200-per month subscription, and this can be customized to show the organization the scammers are trying to impersonate. “The main actor is Chinese communicating in the Chinese language,” Loveland says. “They do not appear to be hacking Chinese language websites or users.” (In communications with the main contact on Telegram, the individual claimed to Smith that they were a computer science student.)
The relatively low monthly subscription cost for the smishing kit means it’s highly likely, with the number of credit card details scammers are collecting, that those using it are making significant profits. Loveland says using text messages that immediately send people a notification is a more direct and more successful way of phishing, compared to sending emails with malicious links included.
As a result, smishing has been on the rise in recent years. But there are some tell-tale signs: If you receive a message from a number or email you don't recognize, if it contains a link to click on, or if it wants you to do something urgently, you should be suspicious.
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midnightluck · 4 months
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i am BEGGING you for those aventurine essays he is legit my fav star rail character
WELCOME TO MY NEW FAVORITE PIT IT'S BEAUTIFUL HERE.
Current essays (full of spoilers) I have already written out:
Why Aventurine is Preservation path and why he doesn't lose (see below)
An analysis of Ratio and Aventurine's interactions on Penacony
An analysis of Aventurine's planning and execution of said plan for 2.1
Why Avigen are Rom-coded and how Aventurine uses his own culture to hurt himself
Aventurine and the Masked Fools
Essays I have not written but intend to:
The incredible level of self-loathing it takes to call yourself a luck build when you only ever gamble against yourself and the inability to trust that it creates
The difference between stage magic and flourishwork and an analysis of the techniques and props he uses, including why he prefers roulette to cards
Presentation!!! The way he dresses and moves and uses his reputation as a weapon
Topaz and Aventurine's friendship and why they would never call each other friends
Literally anything people wanna know about him
That said, let's get started on why, exactly, Aventurine could never be anything but Preservation. SPOILERS!!!!
OKAY so let's discuss
I would like to begin by reminding you that Qlipoth is a Aeon of "patient, sacrificial, and protective actions", and I don't think I need to go into why Aventurine is the first two BUT I'M GONNA.
Patient--yes, duh. The amount of time it takes to set up stuff behind the scenes before you can even announce a performance--we've seen this from him already. He called Topaz directly after we left Belobog for her help specifically, which we can now assume was him asking to borrow her stone. This means that he had his plan already developed months in advance, and this is confirmed by him sighing over how long it took him to book this specific room in the hotel. Aventurine is patient in that most deadly of ways, the focused strategist mixed with the cunning tactician. He gets impatient, we've seen, but in that anticipatory way that comes from the fizzle of excitement in your veins before a performance, the jitters that aren't quite stage fright but aren't quite excitement, when your blood feels carbonated and your stomach flips because you know it's all in place, you know you've got this, but what if, what if-- and even in the face of that, he's patient.
Sacrificial let's take in two ways. Does he sacrifice? Yes, this man refuses to stop, refuses to accept peace, refuses to settle. He's giving up his own happiness because he knows that happiness isn't for the likes of him and he knows this so deeply he's never even bothered to want it. Aventurine isn't happy, he's unsettled in the most literal way, and he's unbothered by it because he isn't chasing a dream. He's not working toward an ambition, he's not after a goal; he's just living because he isn't dead yet, because he refuses to give up and lay down. He is the embodiment of "because I could not stop for Death, he kindly stopped for me," and is, in other words, #relatable to millenials haha.
He's also sacrificial. As a child of ritual, of expectation, and of the embodiment of hope, Kakavasha was born to be the hope of his people and he never got a say in it. He now carries their entire weight and culture on his shoulders because he's the only Avigen on the universal stage, and it hurts more because he barely even had time to truly learn what that culture was before it was taken from him. He probably considers his continued life as penance, as sacrifice, as the payment for his luck which didn't even help anyone he loved anyway.
And then we get to the hard one because people define protective in a very, uh, selfless context mostly? But it's not, or not only that. Aventurine is very protective; he's protective of his past, of his secrets, of his plans, of that which is his. (Sidenote here: money isn't his. Money is a resource, easily gotten, easily spent; gold and jewels and even status are ephemeral. We see this in that fucking bit of dialogue I LOVE ("I can, and it will be flawless" YAS KING IT SURE THE FUCK WILL!!!!), that he doesn't care for the treasure or the mystery, that he's after the role, the action, the thrill of being right, of wagering his life on the bet that he's right and that it's not death that awaits him.
So that's why he's Preservation, is because he could never be anything else. He's not driven, so it can't be Hunt, and he's not careless and instinctive, so no Elation (ask me about his relationship with Masked Fools sometime, I have THOUGHTS). He doesn't seek pain or to sacrifice for others and his wrath is very focused, so no Destruction, and he's not Abundance by any means, and Harmony is out because that's cooperative and unifying and he can't trust. Remeberance is restraint and he doesn't have that, and Nihility is for those who have given up on something, and Aven hasn't, he can't let his past go like Welt has, and all that leaves is Erudition. It suits him but it's offensive, and he isn't, is he, he's so internally focused on playing his little games against himself that he doesn't seek out multiple targets, and also he's not coldly detached; he's powered by self-loathing and that doesn't jive with Erudition, which is reliant on chosen loyalty and seeking.
IMPORTANT DISTINCTION: self-loathing is not self-destructive. Self-esteem and self-worth are not the same thing, and you can hate yourself just fine while still seeing value in what you do. Speaking of which, let's examine that thing he do, which is just straight up setting up giant convoluted plans in order to specifically bet his life on things. HERE'S WHY.
If you bet money and you lose, then you lose, and Aventurine doesn't lose. Aventurine goes for the high stakes, high risk shit because of the risk, because of the stakes. He's chasing death in an abstracted kind of way; he doesn't want to die, but he doesn't value his life and there's not much worth living for anyway. He's also, as previously stated, the only embodiment of his culture, so he can't lose without it reflecting on...everyone, even if they're all dead. The only respectable way he can die as an Avigen is to die in a gamble.
So any gamble with his life on the line is win-win, and god isn't that adrenaline rush of standing on the ledge and jumping good, doesn't that make his pulse pound and his lungs stutter and his fingers shake, in a way that he can feel, physically, that he can know is him, is only him, alive, reliant on his own power, his own fate, his own skill, and on his luck--
Because that's the thing, isn't it, is Aventurine is lucky, but not in the way Kakavasha was. As a kid, he relied on his luck; after it betrayed him (by leaving him the only one left), he doesn't rely on it anymore. He uses it. He puts in time and patience and skill, and he stacks the deck and sets the dice and gambles that he is smart enough to have anticipated it. He's betting that he's prepared enough to weather the uncertainty. Aventurine isn't playing against us, or Ratio, or Penacony; the only one he's ever really betting against is himself.
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saiintofdiirt · 20 days
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hello everyone. hear me out. au where Clonefies breaks out of Evilfies lab alone and ends up at a casino. like the TGCF gamblers den it takes allllll kinds of things as payment— money, people, years off a life, that kind of stuff. Clonefies deliberately losing a game so that he's "forced" to work there for a while but it's really a protection scheme; if Evilfies finds him, the casino won't give him up bc he owes them a debt. He ends up meeting a lot of people there, dealing cards at tables, working the bar, etc, and he ends up kinda liking it even tho he's itching for something more complex. Maybe Ken is still chasing the Omz mask and somehow figures out that Clonefies is there and can point him towards Evilfies, the last person to allegedly be around the mask. LS members being regulars who try to gamble for knowledge and weapons in their quests for revenge. things like that.
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pretty-purple-pages · 6 months
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𝓒 𝓗 𝓐 𝓟 𝓣 𝓔 𝓡 𝓞 𝓝 𝓔
synopsis: percy meets his crush and leaves a weird first impression
pairing: percy x annabeth (percy jackson and the olympians)
content: highschool!au, mortal!au, coffeeshop!au, enemies to friends to lovers, slow burn, annabeth's family is shit
word count: 1144
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Percy Jackson was special. In a bad way. The type of special having a single mother, absent father, an abusive ex step-father, ADHD, dyslexia and a bad school record made you. 
Percy Jackson was normal. He had a loving mother and a step-father who had been there for him more than his biological father. He had amazing friends, who supported him through his hard times. He was trying his best to become a psychologist for children; to help little kids not have the nightmares he had everyday. He considered himself a normal high-schooler.
He also had a huge crush on the barista at the local coffee shop
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Annabeth Chase was special. In a bad way. The type of special having a neglectful father, non-existent mother, an ‘evil’ step-mother , ADHD, dyslexia and running away from your own house at the mere age of 7 made you.
Annabeth Chase was normal. She had found her family; a girl named Thalia, who had taken the place of being her big sister and simultaneously her best friend. Thalia had practically raised her; taught her everything her mother was supposed to. Luke was her protector, not that she needed one obviously, but he was her guide. The one she turned to when things got a little hard. She worked harder and harder everyday. She wanted to become an architect because she never had something permanent for herself so she wanted to design something that would stay. 
She was also the barista at the local coffee shop. The cafe of love; cafe d’amour
Not her dream job; just something part time to pay her rent and feed her stomach. Her scholarship covered the tuition fee; not anything else. She had to work for it.
“ORDER NUMBER 31, KINDLY PICK UP YOUR ORDER,” her voice rang loud and clear in the small coffee shop, at the corner of the street. It was a monday morning, and mondays were always the busiest. 
“Hi- uh- its- uh- it’s my order,” a boy with tousled raven hair stuttered out, “Um uh- I am Percy. Uh- you must know me, I study in your school. We have one class together. Where you sit at the back. Uh, when some girl dropped coffee on your shirt, I was the one who gave you tissues.” he spoke proudly, like a puppy waiting for praise.
Percy Jackson. That name struck no significant memory in her brain, except she vaguely remembered some boy who tripped and fell face flat on the ground because he was busy staring. At her. He looked no older than 17 and he wore a blue hoodie that said ‘fish lives matter’ and black joggers. His face was flushed and he kept stuttering. A lot.
“I don’t know you,” she muttered flatly, mostly out of annoyance, “And that will be $18.34 dollars. Cash or card?,” the boy was still zoned and flustered, “Please collect your order and move ahead; there are customers waiting behind you.”
He cursed and mumbled a quick apology and made the payment. 
This boy was weird. In fact, this whole interaction was weird. 
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Percy Jackson had one class together with the (slightly rude but cute) barista, Annabeth Chase (he found out her name from her work badge): Algebra. Percy hated maths in general, but algebra and statistics were the required courses in order to pursue his dream. Also he got to see the smart blonde who had his heart.
He was currently trying not to zone out in class. The teacher was babbling about her life or something, he didn’t care. He tried not to focus on one thing: There was no sign of Annabeth Chase. 
Usually she sat at the back of the class, playing sims or minecraft, but could still answer anything the teacher asked. She’d often argue with the teacher, but from what Percy heard, she would be extremely enthusiastic in classes she loved. In short, she made her presence known; and today she was nowhere to be found.
Percy always chose the far seat, at the back of the cafeteria. Nobody bothered him, that’s how he liked it. Hazel and Frank were on leave that day, probably doing something cutesy or their couples thingy. His best friend, Grover, was nowhere to be seen. Or Percy spoke too soon.
“HEY MAN,” Grover said with too much enthusiasm for Percy’s liking, ‘patting’ his back so hard that Percy’s face was shoved into his food. Grover was a 5'7 guy with an obsession with plants and animals. He was the person who’d ditch his plans to go on a nature protest.
“Hey,” Percy replied with the opposite level of enthusiasm, “Have you seen Annabeth? She wasn’t in class today.”
As if on cue, the said blonde walked into the cafeteria, heading to their table. Percy was awestruck; his brain unable to form coherent sentences. Although she seemed very distressed. And her eyes and nose were red. It took Percy less than a second to put two and two together; Annabeth was crying and probably had a panic attack.
“Hey Grover, about the nature trail plan we made, we’re rescheduling it. Something came up with my family.” she sniffled and Grover nodded like he understood. She flashed Percy a look of recognition, probably from their awkward encounter at the coffee shop. Percy had never blushed harder in his life; due to embarrassment of course.
“So, you call yourself my best friend, yet you didn’t tell me you were going on a nature trail with my crush?!” Percy confronted Grover as soon as Annabeth was gone, trying to make his voice deep to sound scary. He failed terribly. 
“I uh- I was going to tell-” Percy didn’t let him finish.
“And you never told me that you were that close to her where you go on trips,” Percy held his heart to mock being hurt. Grover took it seriously.
“Didn’t think you’d be that head over heels,” Grover grumbled and picked at his food,
“Also I couldn’t bring you on the trip; I actually was going to, but after your very weird encounter. Dude you actually sounded obsessed.”
Percy wanted to turn time back and erase that encounter.
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Annabeth tried to be the best at everything she did; whether it was calculus or coffee making. Validation had never been given to her by her parents, so she craved it desperately. She volunteered at places, did extra-credit in her favourite classes and tried to be the best. She needed to be. She never had a competitor; she took them down as soon as they appeared. Annabeth Chase never gave up.
So on a slow Thursday morning, she didn’t expect a newbie to appear. Especially not the weird boy from before. And she definitely didn’t want to be the one to train him.
“Hey, I’m Percy Jackson. It’s my first day here.”
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©reyna-obsessed | Not to be reposted, translated or copied on any platform
tags: @that-multi-fandom-hijabi @loife1m @moondust-on-the-hijabi @summersblossoms @hijabi-desi-bookworm
credit for the dividers: @saradika-graphics
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nonobadcat · 1 year
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For @oklolnoty
Down the Rabbit Hole - Five Chapters - 20k words - Yandere Shigaraki Tomura x Rabbit Quirk Female Reader
Chapter Navigation: 1|2|3|4|5 🐇 Ao3 Mirror
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Rating: 18+ readers only - Minors DNI
Whole story TW: Noncon, yandere with kidnapping, severe quirk based discrimination, binge drinking, canon typical threats of violence (reader directed), canon typical death (nonreader directed), oral (give/receive), PnV (doggie), breeding, and expensive designer clothing everywhere.
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Chapter 3: Choice - 4.1k words
TW: Oral (giving), mentions of quirk discrimination, non-con in entertainment media, and sexual harassment
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At exactly 1:56 PM, you turned the corner from the main street onto a wide, concrete alley. Low, overcast ceilings hovered down around tall, glossy buildings. Vermillion hues, a product of human smog more than mother nature, washed the bottom of the clouds. From below the eaves of a grey high rise, a pair of narrow eyes, the same color as the sky, glared at you.
Shigaraki kicked off the hard wall, scratching his neck. “Aren’t you supposed to say something like: ‘Sorry, did I keep you waiting?’”
You hiked your bow-studded messenger back over your shoulder and sauntered to his side. Wrapping your hands around his arm, you smirked at him. “Why? I’m not sorry and I didn’t keep you waiting.”
Tomura stiffened. “What are you doing?!” 
Huh… That reaction? At his age? Guess his mentor sent him to the hostess bar for a good reason.
You clamped down on him and sneered. “It’s 13°C and I’m in yoga pants. Shut up and be grateful for the view.”
Shigaraki’s gaze raked over your outfit. Tactically unzipped to the perfect level, the oversized hoodie gaped open to reveal a grey, ribbed tank almost as touchable as your ears. Its plunging neckline promised more cleavage than it delivered but the way it hugged your tits more than made up for the tease. The yoga pants in question smoothed your thighs and butt into sculpted perfection. Chunky, black sneakers with rhinestone accents added a girlish kick to the casual clothing. Taking a page from Lola Bunny, you wrapped your lop ears high on your head in a velvet bow.
“Hot, right?" you taunted. "It's too bad the club has a formal dress code. I think I causal-up really cute."
He scoffed.
You tugged his arm. "Third floor. Come on."
You dragged your date across the bland, grimey tile and past the money exchange service. A short ride up the cramped elevator carried you to the third floor. The bright, blue and red sign proclaimed “24 hours/365 days a year”. Beyond fingerprint-pocked glass doors lay the hidden depths of “MyStyle Manga Cafe”. You strolled in and dug your membership card out of your bag. 
“I have a reservation for the VIP flatbed pair suite.”
The balding middle age manager scanned your card before handing you a ticket. “Room ten, just next to the copier. Payment is due when you leave.”
You nodded, tugging your victim's arm. Cherry flavored lips brushed against his ear. “I got the one with the locking door. It costs a little more, but you don’t mind paying for the upgrade, right, Tomura?"
Your date inhaled as if he’d been shot in the leg. 
Oh. This was going to be fun.
Only about eight steps from the check-in desk, room ten was a cramped space, barely big enough for two adults. You flopped onto the thick, black floor pads and shoved the foam-stuffed pillow chair aside. The lock clicked from behind. New weight shifted the mat beside you. You rifled through your bag, humming the “item get” tune from Zelda as you produced a cheap USB drive. Within seconds, a pop colored menu burst to life on the computer screen.
“Animal Attraction: Tails of Love!” five different girls cried out from the crackling speakers.
Red eyes narrowed. “What is that?”
“You wanted the real me, right? Today, extra special for your royal pain-in-my-tail, I’m giving you the side I don’t show clients.” You held out a pair of cheap, padded headphones to him and flashed him a crooked smile. “Chase the cat girl, and I will claw your eyes out.”
A few hours later, a fluffy, white haired girl with blazing red eyes and tall rabbit ears stood at the back of an empty lecture hall. She picked at the heart shaped buttons of her pink sundress, refusing to look the player in the eye.
‘The truth is… the professor makes me feel uncomfortable,’ she explained, shifting nervously in her strappy sandals.' ‘Why? Did he do something?’ the player replied. She shook her head. ‘No. Not really. I mean, maybe I’m just imagining it but it just feels wrong. It makes my hair prickle and my stomach hurt when I’m around him.’ Fat tears welled at her pale lash line. ‘He asked me to go to his office hours today to discuss my grades but I... I just… I don’t know. I can’t put it into words.”
Choice:
Calm down. You’re just imagining things.
Your grades are fine, right? Just skip the office hours.
If he makes you uncomfortable, I’ll go with you.
Tomura clicked option 3.
‘Oh no!’ she protested. ‘He hasn’t done anything. I swear.’ Chewing her soft lips, she began to shake. She forced a smile. ‘Anyway, I’m sure I’m just being stupid. I’m sorry to have worried you over nothing.’  As she turned to bolt, the player grabbed her arm. 'Don’t say that about yourself! You’re not stupid!' Hard teeth bit quivering lips. Her nostrils flared. All at once her beautiful face contorted into pure pain. The camera panned high. A detailed CG filled the screen. Crumpled into her thighs, the heroine wailed at the top of her lungs.  ‘I know I’m not! Everyone thinks I am just because I’m a bunny girl!’ she shrieked, grabbing at her ears. ‘I’m so sick of it. Day in, day out it’s ‘Smile for me sweetie. You’re so much prettier when you smile’ and ‘wow… isn’t a bachelor’s degree kinda hard for you?’ and ‘You want to join our club? No problem. Why don’t you grab us some drinks and you can sit here so everyone can see you?’' Twin fists slammed hard against the tile. ‘I’M A PERSON, NOT A MASCOT.’ The player kneeled beside her, their hand hovering for a moment before they pulled it away. “That sounds rough.” ‘It is rough,’ she agreed, fumbling for her abandoned purse. The player held out their hand towel. ‘Here.’ Watery eyes stared up at the player.  ‘Look,’ the player continued. ‘You really aren’t stupid. If you say something is wrong then something is wrong. Even if you don’t want me to come, don’t go by yourself.’ She took the towel with a bright smile and shook her head. ‘No. I want you.’ Red eyes slipped shut as she buried her nose in the terry cloth. ‘I trust you, Tomura.’
Beside you on the floor, the real Tomura sneered. “100% guarantee the professor is a perv.”
You hummed, resting your head on his shoulder. 
His body went rigid.
“Something wrong?”
He coughed, tilting his legs so that his lap remained hidden. “It’s a pretty lame plot device. She should just drop-kick him through a window. Problem solved.”
You clicked your tongue. “It’s not that easy. She’s a senior in college and he manages her internship. If she makes him mad, her chances for getting a reference go up in flames.”
Boney fingers raked his neck. “That’s a load of crap.”
“But realistic,” you argued with a finger wag. “Despite being an indie project, the game got really good reviews specifically because the bunny girl route was such a realistic portrayal of sexual harassment.” A dark shadow filled your face. “Though there were some complaints.”
“Such as?”
Your eye twitched. “Apparently, the bad end wasn’t bad enough. If the player tells her to calm down, she quits school and leaves town, never to contact them again. Several reviewers insisted the professor should have on-camera raped her to really drive the point home that sexual harassment is bad.”
“...so they wanted to watch her get raped so they could whine about how rape is bad?”
“Yup,” you explained, flipping down onto the mat.
“That’s stupid.”
You laughed. “I know, right?! You need to just own your kink at that point! Don’t pretend you don’t like it just to feel morally superior.” 
“You wrote this, didn’t you?”
“Oh no, no, no. I wrote AND coded it.” You slapped the computer and pointed to your head. “There’s more than good hair between these ears.”
“Good hair or good hare?”
“Hares are not the same as rabbits,” you reminded him.
Tomura snorted. “Okay. Okay. I got it.”
“You better!” You shoved his shoulder. “I have no interest in stupid guys.”
He stared down his nose at you. “So why play dumb yourself?”
“No matter what they claim, people have expectations based on appearances,” you muttered with a frown. “A hostess is selling a fantasy. Turns out customers don’t fantasize about smart bunny babes.”
“They should.”
You flashed him a coy grin. “Are you saying I’m not so boring now?”
He scoffed and turned his head, but you caught the pink tinge at the tip of his ears. You hummed knowingly. He scowled and pointed at the screen.
“Why even work as a hostess if you can do this? Was the pay crap or something?”
"No one wanted me."
Tomura raised a peeling brow. "Huh?"
"Well, not for my brains anyway," you huffed, crossing your arms. "One look at my bunny ears and suddenly everything on my resume might as well have read, 'S class whore'. Women whispered behind my back and men kept staring at my tits. No one bothered to hear what I had to say."
Tomura glanced back at the screen. Shining with tears, the bunny girl in the game peered at him from above her declaration of affection. His eyes rolled back to you. "So when did you make the game?"
"College, during my internship." You scowled. "Didn't go so well in the end either."
"The professor?"
You shook your head. "Two 'friends'. One kept demanding I write stuff about heat cycles in the bunny girl route to 'spice it up'. Bunnies don't have heat cycles. They have receptive periods. I tried to explain and he told me I was just being nit picky."
"Receptive periods?"
"Bunnies and cats are induced ovulators, meaning mating causes ovulation. Cats go through a period where they are super horny called a heat. They'd bang anything," you explained, jabbing a finger at the screen. "Female bunnies just become more tolerant of mating for a few days a month called a receptive period. They don’t crave it. It's totally different!"
"And outside that period they claw your eyes out?" he teased.
"Google it if you're so curious."
"So what happened with the other 'friend'?"
“He backed me… At least until I told he figured out I wasn’t just a pussy-machine that you put kindness coins in until it dispensed sex. Then he sided with the other guy.” You pulled your knees to your chin. “I don’t like shallow guys like that, so it wasn’t much of a loss.”
Dry lips pinched into a thin line. 
A mischievous glint sparked in your eye. “Aw… not going to ask me what type of guy I do like?”
He scratched his neck, turning back to the game. 
“Now who’s boring,” you muttered, pressing your cheek to his boney shoulder.
Mechanically, Tomura tapped through the dialogue line by line until the two characters reached the professor’s office. The love interest knocked twice and fixed her companion with a nervous smile before slipping inside. Listening at the door, the player was privy to only half the words shared between the two.
“...concerned for you… Your grades are...” “...doing my best!” “...under a lot of stress.”
Chapped lips quirked into a cruel smile. “Bad flag.”
“Professor! What are you doing!” “...calm down. Just let me—” “No!” THUD.
Tomura whistled. “That escalated quickly.”
You winced at the choices. “This is one of the parts where we got into a debate about the ‘true ending’.”
Choice:
Open the door
Make some noise
Leave. This is not your job.
He tapped the quick save in the top corner. “Two arbitrary choices and an obvious bad end? Pretty typical to me.” He clicked the first option.
The door knob refused to budge.
He save-scummed and clicked the second option.
No one inside the room heard a word.
“Oh.”
You crossed your arms. “The other developers thought the best way to win her heart was to go all ‘hero to the rescue’. However, if you were to do that, she won’t get a reference for a job.” 
Red eyes shifted from you to the screen. With two taps, he quick-loaded the choice again. “Don’t be heroic, huh?” He sneered. “I like it.” 
Tomura tapped the last box. 
The player headed down the hallway, and around the corner. One screen shake later, they found themselves face first in the Dean of Students’ chest. Armed with an authority figure and a set of skeleton keys, the player returned to the scene of the crime. “You lead me on, you little slut!” “No! I swear I didn’t—” “You want to pass this class, right?” “Please don’t!” “Shut up and just—” The Dean shoved his keys into the lock before throwing open the door. “What on earth is going on here?!” Within seconds, the love interest threw herself into the player’s chest. “T-Tomura. I’m so glad you’re here!”
“Work smarter, not harder,” you cheered.
“Chcc…” Brittle nails raked his scabbed neck as he clicked into the next scene. 
Down a long, winding side street, the player walked their love interest back to her home. When they reached the gate, she paused for a moment, digging her toe into the chipping sidewalk. Orange light streamed through the fluffy purple clouds. She tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear, glancing at the player from under long lashes.  "You walked me so far just so I wouldn't be scared." A warm flush flittered over her button nose. "Would you… would you like to come in for a snack before you go home?"
Choice:
I'm not hungry.
Sure.
A manicured hand slapped Tomura on the back so hard he jolted forward. Your claws pointed to the second choice as you cheered. "GET SOME, PLAYER!"
Tomura stuck his pinky in his ear, jiggling it to clear out the ringing noise. "Could you be a little more loud?!" he muttered, selecting the latter option.
You hummed and rolled your eyes.
On screen, the player followed their love interest up a short flight of stairs to a violently feminine bedroom. Pink polka dots and chubby cartoon carrots splattered the bedspread like some sort of kawaii-pox. Impractically sheer curtains provided no privacy from the tall windows. Taking a seat on the heart-studded floor cushions, the player listened as nervous rambling poured from their love interest’s lips. “—could get you some tea if you want? You know, like green tea? You like green tea right? Oh, wait, you might prefer barley… Do you? I don’t know if I have barley but I could go get some really quick from the convenience stor— er… oh… but that’d be rude to leave you alone since there isn’t anyone here right now.” She flushed pink from head to toe, furiously waving her hands. “Not that I planned it like that or anything! I mean… well… maybe I did but it wasn’t for that reason, I swear! I just have something to tell you and it was too embarrassing to say in front of people. Oh crap! No wait! No! I mean, I’m not embarrassed by you or anything! I-I’m just not confident in myself!” She melted into her palms, steam pouring from her ears. “Ohmigosh what am I even saying?!” Confused silence was her only reply. A low thumping vibrated from the speakers. The girl quickly gripped her long leg, forcing it to stop tapping the ground. Red eyes looked everywhere but on the screen. Glossy lips trembled. “I… I’m in love with you!” she blurted out, clipping the old speakers.
Choice:
I love you too
I prefer cat girls
The mouse hovered over the second option for a moment. 
“You’re horrible!” you laughed, elbowing him in the rib.
He sneered at you before clicking the first line.
“Tomura… Can I… Could I kiss you?”
A gentle pop smack popped from the speakers.
“M-maybe… just one more?”
Small tongue clicks matched with a well timed lip bite, kept the IRL Tomura’s eyes glued to the screen.You reached for your purse.
“One more?” she begged, her voice raspy with need.
Tomura shifted, tugging at his pants. The back of your hand grazed his thigh. He didn’t budge. Satisfaction filled your stomach. You leaned in for the kill.
On screen, an erotic CG filled the screen complete with a covert cleavage shot and animated drool pooling at the corner of plush lips. Wet sucking noises split the needy whining. “Ah… Tomura… I feel so hot.”
“Ah… Tomura… I feel so hot.”
Your prey jolted as dual bunny girls echoed in his ears. His head snapped to you. You smirked at him and cupped his thigh. 
His breath hitched. 
Peering at him from below your lashes, you shuffled to your knees.
“What—” he gulped, leaning away “—are you doing?”
Your moist tongue flicked out, tasting your cherry lip balm. “That depends.”
Red eyes flashed to your lips. “On what?”
You chuckled, angling your chest until your top gaped open. Manicured nails dragged down bare skin into the valley between your breasts. “How much do you want?”
“How much of what?”
A fake, high pitched giggle rapidly devolved into a sensual sigh. Your lips grazed his ear. Warm breath tickled his cheek. “Of the truth?”
The mouse hit the floor mat with a soft pap.
“Like all truths, there’s a pretty part and an ugly part.” Walking your fingers up his thigh, you pressed onward with your tease. “The pretty part is I always wanted to try something like this with my boyfriend.” With a nod to the computer screen, you nuzzled baby blue locks from the edge of his jaw. “But of all the guys I’ve dated, you're the only one I know is nasty enough to be down for it.”
You snapped the button on his jeans open. He groaned.
“Neh. Tomura. You know that hostesses can get fired if they sleep with their clients, right?” 
His zipper fell. Your hand slipped below his elastic band. Warm sweat beaded in the pile of wiry, pale curls. You combed lower. Something firm jumped at your touch.
“After all, men pay for the chase. If they catch you, they have no reason to come back. No club wants a hostess that loses clients.”
Tomura’s eyes lulled into his lids as you wormed your way down the shaft. More on instinct than rationale, he leaned into the cushion behind him and arched his hips. Little by little you wiggled him loose from the confines of stretch denim and into the cool air. Musky arousal left a sticky trail up your palm.
“But the ugly truth is I don’t want you to come back. You cause too much trouble, crusty boy.”
Crinkling foil caused his eyes to drift open. You wagged the pink rubber in front of his face, before lowering it to his weeping, red head. Gripping his thigh for balance, you leaned down and wrapped your mouth over the strawberry flavored plastic. You tongued it down his shaft. He gasped.
“Look at me when I’m talking to you, Tomura.”
He squinted down at you through watery eyes.
With a smirk, you nodded to the screen. “Keep going.”
Click.
“T-tomura… Ah! Wait! When you touch me like that I—!”
Keeping your lips tucked over your teeth, you teased down with pressure, making him fight you just enough to squeeze into your mouth. One hand cupped his shaft as your fingers made a firm ring. The other slipped lower, gently threading his balls between your rolling digits. 
He moaned, closing his eyes. 
You popped off his cock, giving him a long stroke. “Keep going.”
Click.
“Ah… Your tongue! Hah… so wet. **gulp** It’s so different from when I— ngnn!”
You tugged his shirt and caught his gaze. Your tongue fanned wide, taking a languid taste of artificial strawberry. Saliva pooled at the tip before dripping onto him. With rapt attention, he watched the droplet wind its way between every crease of the condom. When it bulged over the rolled rim, his cock throbbed against your mouth.
Click.
“—feels so hot.”
You plunged down over his length, sucking in your cheeks.
Click.
“M-my brain is kinda… ahhhhh… mu-shy…”
Angling him for mid-throat, you pressed on until coarse hair tickled your nose.
Click.
“Just like that! Ohmigosh Tomura I need—”
Who knew crusty boy was packing a good cock? Not some hentai-worthy pussy destroyer or anything but the curve would have been nice to ride. Too bad the girth made your jaw ache. 
Click.
“Tomura. Oh, Tomura. Right there! Please. Hah. S-so close.”
She wasn’t the only one. Half of Tomura’s hand clamped down on your skull. Sharp nails pricked your scalp as he curled most of his fingers into your hair. Insistent tugs set a punishing pace. Your neck burned. Salty snot dripped from your nose. A stream of garbled cuss words slipped from his lips.
Click.
“—gonna! Mmmm gonna—!”
As the screen flashed white, Tomura stuffed you into his crotch. His swollen head pressed hard into your tender throat. You gagged. He groaned. Cum-filled condom ballooned at the back of your tongue. You jerked your head to the side, trying to free yourself.
He ripped his hand away. “Don’t do that!” he snapped.
Hacking into your fist, you glared at him. “Then d-coughcough-n’t choke me, moron!”
Beady eyes narrowed. He grabbed your shoulder and wrapped his legs around your thigh. The world flipped. Your head collided with the hard mat. Vision spinning, you coughed again through painful tears. Tomura snatched up the torn wrapper, dangling it over your chest.
“Watch,” he commanded.
One at a time, he brought his fingers down onto the pink foil. After four exaggerated pinches, nothing appeared to change. You opened your mouth to tell him off just as all five fingers touched the packet. All at once, dry ash fluttered through the air. Your heart slammed against your ribs.
Welp, that explained why he seemed so touch starved.
“Understand now?!” His hard fist smacked  the padding beside your head. “I could have killed you, idiot!”
Between a tight throat and breathless lungs, no words could escape. Ice snaked through your veins. For the first time in a long time, terror rippled across your skin like a shock from a cattle prod. You swallowed, sniffing back tears.
With a deep breath, Tomura rolled off of you and shuffled away. He picked at the drooping plastic like a child picks at bell peppers. Cracking lips pouted. “How do I get this thing off?”
“O-oh…” You shoved off the mat and kneeled beside him. “Here. Let me—”
When your hand bumped his, every hair on your body prickled.
He pulled his arm away and averted his gaze. “Whatever. Don’t force yourself.
You grunted before lunging for his lap. One hand caught his jaw. The other circled his now drooping cock. You pressed a quick kiss to his cheek before turning him to watch.
“Not uh. Not until you understand.”
Centimeter by centimeter, you carefully dragged the condom free. Your fingers brushed his weeping tip. It jumped from the contact. The hand on his face trailed down his chest, following every dip until it bumped its twin. Three deft twists and a tight knot secured the payload. You swung it back and forth from your fingers and fixed him with a sultry grin.
“Don’t tell a professional how to do her job,” you warned. 
Tossing the condom over your shoulder, you wrenched his face to yours and locked him in a blazing kiss. His eyes bulged. Your knee slipped between his as your tongue dove through his defenses. Nip after nip, you coaxed him into your clutches. 
A low groan vibrated from his chest. His hands slid up your hips.The hair on your neck prickled. You ignored it, pressing slow, sensual affections deep into his skin. A whiff of your perfume slipped by your nose. Something twitched against your pants. Your toothy grin pricked his chapped lips. 
Got him.
Careful to peel away rather than pull, you scooped up your bag and the evidence of your little ploy. Through heaving pants, he shot you a pointed look. You nodded to the computer clock. It read a quarter to nine.
“I have another arrangement at nine thirty, so I have to get dressed. Make sure you clear out by midnight or they’ll charge you extra.” You nudged his now swollen cock with the tip of your toe. He shivered. Manicured nails clacked on the door handle. “Hope the rest of your night is less boring—” You flashed him a wink. “—Tomura. ❤”
You swung your hips and strutted away.
Violent curses chased you down the hall.
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Chapter Navigation: 1|2|3|4|5 🐇 Ao3 Mirror
Next Chapter Expected: July 30th, 2023
Expected Completion Date: Mid-Aug 2023
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Taglist: @bat-eclecticwolfbouquet-love @shig-a-shig-ah @castershellwrites @smilinghowever @krystalwithakay @iris-goddess @ss-syche @mortallysparklyfun @meameows @magnificentclodpiezonk @betterfettered @utena-akashiya @ventdavi154 @st4rrust @imaginedheroine @the-lady-writes-what @shiggysimp69 @toughbook @naughteehee @tampon-earrings @alotofpussy @derobsawiempleh @jadke-bean @saintvinny @cookiecrumblemoonster @curlyangelsblog @hurthermore @prehistoricfreak @insomniamoth22 @celesterdzc18 @sasuqahs @gloomysel @ohnoitsthatonekid @tracksuit-goth @cinnatwisted @anteabelle @unlikelytrio @meru-the-succubus @diawh0re @linastired @mikeyrights @headmastermephistopheles @omisdolly @nochedeodio @starstruckvega @laurelyna @shiggysimp69 @certainlygay @rxyno @ventdavi154 @patch-workk @paranormal-dude @grenosethino @fancylardbucket @utena-akashiya @toughbook @oklolnoty@zombiegr1 @shyyykat @ushi-uri @flamme-meuf2-shiggy @vampirec0w @perpetual-fangirl900 @nekolover93 @saskenma@betterfettered @thread-knight @st4rrust @sparrowwritesforop @aphorditeslust@pindelighted @tadokorochann @usaggii
@beeandtrees @justineangelrococo @aaangeliii
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mini-uzzy · 7 months
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Hello! Its the first day of March and I had just woken up to an email of a payment due reminder. I had just used my card to buy essential groceries, and now the bill's minimum payment is over 18 USD. This is not good since my mom can only give me money below 18 USD.
I have stated that I'm looking for a job that's comfortable- and this meant I needed a job within my city so I could cut down on rent and other bills, and take care of my family. Not working in retail was a bonus. Since my unemployment back in Oct. 2023, I have applied to three retail jobs and- literally over 40+ other types of jobs, but no luck (reasons being: I do not have enough experience, or have submitted the application too late, and in the case of the job I have been chasing for 4 years now, they decided to not go through with hiring new personnel).
I have one application left and I pray to any deity up there or down or sideways that this goes through. But it may take another week or two of wait, and with literally no money left I am incredibly helpless.
If you can donate a coffee, or commission a drawing or an mc skin, or reblog this post, it would help me immensely. All links and info are on my profile's pinned post. Thank you for your time.
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thesorcererpoet · 3 months
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Ever pull two cards and know it is spiritually important? Today’s reading looks sequentially like it is taking a back step. In the order of the cups cards you have the five that is about accepting the disappointment of what is lost and taking joy in what remains, we have the six which is nostalgia, which still denotes a sense of clinging on, then the seven, which appears here, the inner delusions about wanting it back. The seven then denotes the things you wrestle with in your quest to replace what is lost that you still have longing for. It is all the things you want, the anger as revenge, the beauty as seduction, the wealth and the power. You know that not one of those things is worth being chosen and loved back and not one of these things will bring the past back because we cannot step into the same river twice. So here we have a situation, the eight talks about walking away from a relationship. The eight usually follows the seven but here it precedes it.
Having walked away, there is a sense of fantasy about all of the things that we have left behind that we haven’t quite put to bed. These things are not real, they are of the mind. If I were to look at one way of interpreting these cards, I would say it would be foolish to walk away from something real, chasing something that isn’t. I have spoken on the perils of fantasy vs reality before, talking of how when we make something real we have to give up our ideal vision for the reality. So what is your reality now? What was the reality before?
I wouldn’t expect that it is easy to dispel such dreams. Never the less, I know from experience that chasing them is a fools errand.
For a full personal tarot reading gimme a message and we can discuss a time slot. For a full Celtic cross I’m charging just £15. The reading will be delivered as a photograph of the cards and a write up. I take all payments via PayPal or card via PayPal email invoice.
Much love x
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detective-piplup · 2 months
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impulsively opening commissions for the first time because I love those tournament IAPS but I am saving my money for the moomins crossover
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PRICING INFO
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SKETCH:
Candle Pack/IAP priced at £4.99 (£9.99 if more than 1 character)
LINEART ONLY:
Candle Pack/IAP priced at £9.99 (+ another (£4.99 or £9.99) item if more than 1 character
COLOURED:
Candle Pack/IAP priced at £9.99 (+ another £9.99 item if more than 1 character)
£15 Gift Card
I thought there were IAPs for £14.99 but i dont see em so like. my bad 😔
FULL ART
Candle Pack/IAP priced at £19.99 (+ any other item or pack if more than 1 character)
£25 Gift Card
I CANNOT STRESS ENOUGH, THE GIFT CARDS *MUST* BE IN POUNDS. everything else is priced in pounds because its my only form of measurement but it would be the equivalent to what that item's price is for you.
REGARDING HOW I WILL RECEIVE PAYMENT:
Since the gift system requires we be friends for at least 3 days, if you wish to pay via gifting an IAP I will send you my sky qr code when you contact me. We can discuss who's paying for the friendship tree then, but I do not mind doing it.
When the three days have passed, I will give you the finished artwork (given it's finished and approved by then) after I receive payment
Please let me know your platform as well! It complicates things a bit.
Sorry it's so complicated, system's not really built for this.
If you pay by gift card, then I will receive payment once you approve the sketch. I will then hand over my finished piece ASAP
If you have any further questions, please let me know, and don't be afraid to chase me about your piece if you feel it's been a while.
(heads up, I’m going to be busy for a bit on Friday the 9th, so if anything is asked of me around then it may take me a little until I get back from that)
please dm me here or on discord (@/jinglebrain) if you’re interested!
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somerandomg33k · 5 months
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I just got paid today. About $2100 in net pay. Typical for about 110 to 120 hours of work over two weeks. So $375 into the joint account I share with my brothers that I live with to cover for my portion of rent and bills. And I will put another $375 next paycheck. $700 towards the Chase Amazon credit card. $200 to the bank credit card. $150 to my friend Lynnaquinn, good enough for groceries this week for her and her spouse, hopefully. And $250 for Johanna to get her out of the red and have enough for her phone bill, hopefully. Accounting for the $106 payment for my PC, and all other future charges covered on my two credit cards, I pretty much have $383 left in the checking account today. Or will once all of other the charges go through. So yea, just got paid $2100 and it is almost gone.
And still want to spend a little money on myself. Spending $100 for vbucks just to get more Fortnite skins, even after owning 573 of them. And after already spending $6000 on Fortnite in the two years I have been playing it. Getting myself a frozen pizza just because as well.
But yet, part of me just wants to instantly give Phoenix the $380. Because they are also really struggling. They expressed they can't keep going on like this. Been like this for years for Phoenix.
Another Paycheck that once I instantly get it, I need another one. I don't have enough to make sure my friends have a comfortable life. I don't have enough to get my teeth fixed. Haven't been to the dentist in years. And I emotionally broke down at the suggestion I should focus on myself and take care of my credit card debt. But that also feels impossible.
I hate budgeting. So I am really really bad at doing it. I just feels like not spending money at all. When Fortnite players, like my friends, talk about "saving vbucks" there is no such thing as saving vbucks. All saving vbucks is is simply not spending vbucks. Not getting the skins you want in the item shop.
The only way I see making any dent into my credit card debt is not giving money to my friends in need. Not spending as much money as I do. Or working as much overtime as I can. 12 hours days 6 days a week. Or any combination of the three, or all three. And when I do work 12-hour days, I have like 15 fifteen minutes in the morning, all used to get dressed and leave for work, and then whatever time I give myself when I come home for the evening, which is maybe two hours at most. And no more because I shouldn't stay up beyond 2 am.
I don't know how much more I need to earn at my job to feel whole. Or to feel well. Maybe double what I make now. But how fucking likely will that happen for someone without a college degree in this economy.
But I fucking hate thinking like this. I hate being concern with money. I hate getting pay over $2000 and it is still not enough. I hate that my friends are in poverty and will probably just never get out of it. I hate there is no end in sight for this cycle. I hate the fucking system that we live in. And hate how there are many people that will defend Capitalism. Or believe, "You just have to vote for the right people to be our benevolent dictator. And they will improve the system. #VoteBlueNoMatterWho." I hate feeling powerless to end of this misery. And I have other friends and family members that are suffering too..... I just feel..... bleph.... meh .... urg.....
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pocket-jack · 10 months
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Ok. I'm gonna share this one... Kidd and Law is Luffy's older brothers, instead of Ace and Sabo.
In this AU Ace was given to White Beard instead, and he was raised like his adopted son (so, less aggression and daddy issues, I guess). He met Luffy in Alabasta and decided to stick alongside with Straw Hats, repeating the filler episodes in dessert. They got along so well, that he shared his Vivre Card with Luffy in case if he ever needs his help. Sabo was one of Luffy's friends, when he was younger, but then he went missing after the fire at Grey Terminal, and Luffy never knew why. Then he appeared in Dressrosa attempting to gain Ace's Devil Fruit for revolutionary army, and Luffy, who wanted to make sure that his friends Fruit will be given to the right person, allowed him to have it.
Luffy in this AU was mostly alone in his first months with Dadan's clan. He was 7 years old and never had friends his age, so the best thing he came up with is to follow around a bunch of teenage thugs who play pirates.
He loves hanging out around those guys, because they were cool, and pirates, and they had a bear! And the funny hat guy's name is Penguin! And other guy wears cool glasses! And Traffy is always patches him up if he gets hurt trying to chase after them. They like a cool older brother's for him! But Traffy doesn't like when Luffy following them around. And he said that he's allowed to visit them only if he's hurt or needs his toes to be cut off. Luckily for Luffy, there's a guy who's beats him almost all the time.
Kidd is 11 years old. He's a kid who's been sold to Bluejam Pirates because his parents were poor and couldn't handle him. Luffy know he's just misses his home, that why he's always so wild and aggressive. Kidd's also love fixing and building stuff on the Grey Terminal, but last time Luffy got caught on spying him, he got beat up really bad. Many people at GT or Dadan's clan members talks about him as a little monster, who's too violent for this world. Many are afraid of him, some are angry, some are pitying him, but Luffy are actually amused by his strength. Even if Kidd causes trouble to everyone, even his crewmates, he's strong and cool. He builds cool stuff and actually pretty great at it. But perhaps he have some self-esteem issues? He often sees danger in people and their words. Just who did this to him?
Law is 15 years old. He's a pirate. And these three guys are his crew. They call themselves Heart Pirates, but currently they don't have any boat. They've had to set sail from their home to hide from the bad man and almost shipwrecked on the Dawn Island. Law never talked about this bad man, and no one, even his crew, never asked him about it either. He's a doctor. A beginner, to be right. He usually goes to GT to practice his medical skills, luckily there's a lot of wounded there. He also takes care of Luffy, because Dadan literally said "Well, he choosed you. Do whatever you want with him, just don't kill him" when he brought him to her the first time. He usually visits Dadan clan when Luffy receives pretty bad injuries and require bed rest. We all know that Luffy just can't lay in bed all day, right? Everyone is cherishing Law, because he acts like a golden child, when he stays at their place for some time: he and his crew wash the dishes, clean the house, take care of wounded and also help bring food. Dadan just ready to switch children up to this point. He and his crew also have troubles with Bluejam Pirates, mostly because Kidd have troubles with them. The battle between the Heart Pirates and Kidd's band sometimes resembles a bloody war rather than childish fight, especially when Kidd is only one standing and just can't give up no matter how hard he gets injured. HP are usually leave his little band patched up and without some of their body part as a threat (Kidd always retrieved them with fight, while the other kids were simply asking nicely or doing errands for HP as a payment).
One day they gonna become best friends and then brothers, that compete against one goal - to become King of the Pirates.
Can you imagine the scene in Shakky's Rip-off bar where she explained to them about Supernova's and especially emphasized on Law and Kidd, because they're the most dangerous out of them. And Luffy just goes "Yeah, I know, they're my big brothers!" leaving everyone shocked as hell. Two of the most dangerous guys in The Worst Generation... And they're Luffy's brothers. Why no one is surprised?
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