#please start using and spreading awareness
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modmad · 3 days ago
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Hey Mod!
Just wanted to give a heads up in case you're not aware, but I believe Tpoh merch might come with a extra tariff fee upon arrival.
So, I'll explain: I ordered a pair of Assok socks through the Topatoco site at the beginning of May as a gift to a friend who lives in Spain, I picked DHL priority for shipping, the total came to about 25 dollars, everything good so far.
Then, when the package arrived at my friend's home, someone else who lives with my friend opened the door and wasn't pleased when Mail Man told them they had to pay 10 euros for this ~mistery package~ that they didn't know about (my surprise backfired)
Anyway, a few days ago I found the explanation that because US tariffs are changing a lot, some people have had to pay extra fees in addition to what they already paid upon receiving a package (the company was charged extra, so now the company is charging you extra, basically).
Again, this is a heads-up, I'm not meaning to use your ask box as a complaint box, just meaning to spread awareness.
Feel free to ignore this if you have already talked about this or were already aware <3
PS: My friend hasn't opened the package yet, as they're waiting for a gift they sent me to arrive so we can open them together, but I'm sure they'll love the socks :D
oh man, that is news to me. I really hope this isn't happening all over bc I had no idea! but yeah, new tariffs = new waters, topatoco is usually really good at covering these things so people don't have to worry, but if this happens I'm truly sorry, and hopefully it will happen less/won't happen in the future.
edit: Topatoco sent out an email when the latest TPOH kickstarter started shipping saying this might happen. Unfortunately when it does, there's nothing they can do.
it didn't happen for me when my parcel arrived, and I haven't heard this complaint from anyone else (yet?) but if it's widespread I'm real sorry EU folks :C
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nikooo-whathehell · 6 months ago
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FUCK star-crossed lovers trope. It's time for double stars lovers trope NOW.
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The "only you can show me this",
the "you are my partner",
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the "you were never broken",
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the "we finish this together",
the "because I promised you".
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osaemu · 1 year ago
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GOJO SATORU: IT'S GONNA FEEL SO GOOD, I PROMISE!
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.ೃ࿐ he's dreamt about fucking you for months, and now that you're finally in his sheets, he has no intent of letting you go—especially when he finds out that he's your first time. NSFW
contents: fem!reader. virgin!reader. kinda sorta subtle coercion, corruption kink, slight dubcon, fingering, p –> v, lots of praise!!, mentions of prior dirty dreams (about you).
author's note: had this stuck in my drafts for a while so uhhhh. yea enjoy. tagging @mymegumi bc i love selene ꨄ︎
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"please, baby, it'll feel so good," satoru cooes, threading his fingers through your hair and pulling your face closer to his. "i promise i'll be gentle."
you shrug, scrunching up your nose at satoru hesitantly. "i don't know..."
your boyfriend presses his lips to yours briefly and smiles tenderly. satoru's soft eyes are fixed on you, only you as he widens them pleadingly. "i wanna teach you how to fuck. please, sweetheart, we can stop anytime. jus' wanna make you feel good, i promise!"
it's only partially a lie—yes, satoru certainly wants to teach you to fuck, but he's not entirely certain that he could just stop anytime. especially because he's well aware that fucking a virgin is such an addicting experience—satoru knows you're gonna be so tight that you'll just suck him in, and he isn't that confident that he'll be able to stop once he's started.
but whatever, that's a problem for later—for now, he's focused on persuading you to spread those legs for him and show him your pretty pussy.
you pause, considering his proposal. after a couple seconds, you nod hesitantly. "you promise you'll be gentle?" you ask meekly, averting your eyes.
satoru nods, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. "of course—now c'mon, let's get those clothes off of you, baby." and a couple agonizing minutes later, you're half naked underneath a shirtless satoru, and his fingers trace the inside of your thigh.
"so first, i'm gonna make you cum on my fingers, 'kay?" satoru informs you. "needa loosen you up so you can take my dick."
"o-okay," you whisper, swallowing nervously. "i'm a little scared," you admit, fiddling with the waistband of your lacy underwear. "will it hurt?"
after a moment, satoru nods in response. "at first it will. but then you're gonna feel so good, i promise."
"you promise?"
"i do."
satoru tugs down your panties and grins at the sight of your pussy, untouched and reserved just for him. he's dying to just fuck you then and there, rough and no prep, but he made a promise. and satoru has no intention of breaking it.
"ready?" he breathes, positioning his fingers just outside of your entrance. when you nod, he shakes his head. "i'm gonna need to hear it from you, baby. use your words."
"i'm r-ready," you confirm, inching your thighs farther apart for him.
"good girl."
then satoru slips his fingers inside, and you can't suppress the sudden moan that slips out of your lips. to you, it's embarrassing, but to satoru, it's music to his ears. he steadily pushes his fingers farther and farther into your tight cunt, and satoru can't help but marvel at the way you just suck him in.
"you're so fuckin' tight," satoru mumbles, eyes fixed on your pussy. "and so wet, too. i've barely even touched you, fuck."
it's agonizing, really—the sensation of having someone else's fingers inside of you is so new and so strange that you can almost ignore the pain (which is present but not as throbbing as you had feared). satoru makes sure to be as gentle as he can, which unfortunately isn't quite as gentle as you'd like—but it's not too rough for you to handle.
satoru starts widening his fingers in a scissor-like motion, stretching you farther apart to make room for his already rock-hard dick. you squirm around him and whine about how deep his fingers are, but satoru dismisses your complaints with a laugh. "c'mon, this is barely the beginning. if ya can't take this, how're you gonna take my dick?"
a couple minutes later, when satoru finally deems you loose enough, he pulls out his now-drenched fingers. looking you in the eye with a smug smile, he slips his fingers into his mouth and licks your slick off of them. "mm, you taste so good, pretty. lemme see if you feel as good as you taste, yeah?"
and that's how he convinces you to keep your thighs nice and spread wide open for him as he positions the head of his dick at your entrance, practically trembling from the effort it takes to not just pound into you. you're so compliant and perfect for satoru, and it takes every ounce of his willpower to resist the urge to push you up against the headboard and fuck you until you pass out.
but somehow, he manages to control himself. "alright, baby, this is gonna hurt," satoru warns, touching his reddening tip to your soaked pussy. "you ready?"
"y-yeah," you breathe, distantly noticing the way your hands start to tremble. satoru exhales softly and shakes his hair out of his eyes before gently pushing himself inside of you, and the first thought that enters your head is that he's ridiculously big—it feels like you're getting torn apart every second he goes in farther.
"satoruuu," you whine, starting to paw at his chest when he goes in farther, and it's too much, too fast, but he only grins down at you in response. "it hurts, ow... y're too—"
"uh uh, just shut your pretty mouth n' take it," satoru groans, shifting the angle of his hips and going in a little deeper. you cry out in pain, face scrunching up in an effort to numb the stinging sensation around your waist. satoru dips his head and kisses your forehead, murmuring praises on how well you're doing.
"it'll feel so good soon, i promise, baby," he insists, pressing his lips to the spot in between your eyes. "you're takin' me so good, fuck— agh, you're so damn tight, this one's gonna hurt like hell, but you can take it, yeah? my pretty princess, you'll do anythin' i say, won't ya..."
satoru doesn't give you a chance to respond before he says something about this being the last stretch, but his words don't really sink in until he's two more inches deep into you. his last thrust is so sudden and jarring that it makes you cry out his name, over and over and over until the pain evident on your face starts to turn into something that looks a lot like... pleasure?
a self-assured smile grows on satoru's flushed face when he sees the chance, and a thousand more words of praise fall from his lips. your vision's a little fuzzy in the corners, and your mind is all but gone—it's hard to focus on anything but the slowly fading pain.
satoru starts to move his hips back and forth, easing your loosening cunt into him and nodding at the way you slowly start to show signs of wanting more. your eyes brighten up a little and you seem more alert the longer satoru opens you up.
"startin' to feel good now?" he asks, smiling smugly when you nod your head. "yeah, told you so." the prominent blush on his face starts to creep down his neck, and when you reach up and tentatively touch his cheek, that's when he loses it.
it takes every drop of self-restraint in his body to not flip you over, face-down and ass-up and fuck your tight cunt the way he's dreamed about for months. satoru's imagined it for so long that it's practically a reality for him—the way you would whimper his name and claw at the sheets, the way you would cum all over him too many times to count, all of it. he's seen it a thousand times in his head, but having his fantasy so close and yet so far drives him insane.
but as you smile up at him, the almost unnoticeable tremble in your bottom lip assures him that this probably isn't the time. after all, you're not leaving him anytime soon, so he might as well train you first before even attempting any of that on your perfect, untouched body.
"what do i do now?" you ask, and the simplicity of the question is almost childish. especially when satoru almost laughs in response, soft blue eyes glinting with amusement.
"jus' lie there and stay pretty f'me. and keep your legs spread wiiide open," satoru cooes, shaking his hair out of his eyes only for it to fall right back in.
"yeah, you're doin' so good that i don't even buy that you were a virgin—or are you just naturally made for me, huh? maybe that's it, 'cause i swear on my life that i've never fucked a cunt this fuckin' pretty, heh."
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obeymeluv · 3 months ago
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In Your Defense [PT 1 - Heartslabyul, Savanaclaw]
You decide to work at Sam's for Valentine's Day and your crush just happens to hear a customer hitting on you. If they get arrested, can you be their alibi? AKA: This person has a death wish and you find out your crush might be jealous?
Note: Each one is random and some will be longer than others. If I made everyone the same length this thing would be MASSIVE and I would probably die.
Not proofread because of the length. Trying to get everyone done today. It's my last day off for a few.
Whatever part Ortho is in will be platonic, obvs.
Happy V-day!
Riddle likes to think he's made great strides not being angry but hearing some utterly disgusting joke about 'how much do you cost?' sends him like nothing else ever has. This guy is tall and so unimpressive, so plain, so average that Riddle can't really recall him at all. Maybe that's just the absolute fury blurring his vision. He knows he's not breathing but his chest isn't burning near as much as his face; the heat is spreading quick and he can feel it in his cheeks and neck. Temples pounding, his vaguely aware of the growl bubbling in his chest as it threatens to slip past his clenched teeth.
Ace calls it his teapot snarl.
Before Riddle knows it, he's flown off the handle and he's going off on a rant. The whole shop is quiet, people physically backing away as he just methodically unravels everything about this cretin from outfit, posture, presence, delivery, unoriginality--everything. Honestly, he doesn't even remember everything he said. The redhead doesn't even tune back into the sound of his own voice until he ends the onslaught with, "You've just paid twenty thaumarks to embarrass yourself but that pales in comparison to the fact that you thought you had a chance with them. You should be ashamed!"
The man slinks away, sad little bag dragging off the counter.
Whispers and giggles diffuse throughout the shop. He ignores the looks that come his way, using the time to come back to himself. Riddle fixes his cute casual clothes, content with the fact you picked them out together. He catches sight of the matching rose clips on your outfit and in you hair and smiles softly. "A strawberry cookie and a cake pop, please." he clears his throat, fishing his wallet out of his pocket.
Sam had an assortment of sweets and he was going to capitalize on strawberry's popularity while he could. He saw you root through the display case, carefully considering the designs even though they were all supposed to taste the same (allegedly).
"Sure thing. Your total is 12 thaumarks. Thanks for stopping by Sam's Mystery Shop! Happy Valentine's Day!"
He hands you the thaumarks as you take the time to slide the I LOVE YOU cookie in his bag.
----
Deuce is an honors student! He is a good boy that's going to make his mother proud!
HE IS SO GOING TO PUNCH THIS MOTHERFUCKER IN THIS FACE!
His shoulders tense, fist clenching at his side. "Why, you think they're cheap? Something to be bought? What an insult!" his head snaps up as he stares down the slightly taller boy. Deuce's teal eyes turn a dark turquoise; the giddy glint of seeing you and chocolate eggs in one place turns to something sharp and steely. He hands the chocolate eggs to Ace, turning right back around to stare the creep down. Old habits die hard; he's grinding a fist into his hand.
"Aren't you the guy always complaining about limited time sales being unfair? Not my problem you missed the window." the guy scoffs, leaning back against the cashier counter. "Anyways," the guy tilts his head back and starts talking to you.
You look uncomfortable and angry that you can't handle this yourself. Professionalism and all.
"You may have caught the window but I'm about to show you the door." Deuce draws up on him with a quickness people have never seen. Not many people know about all the fights he used to get into. Gripping the guy's hair almost to the point of pulling it out, steering him like a panicked bull, Deuce all but chucks him out the front door of the shop. He turns around to walk back inside and buy his chocolate eggs but that spine-tingling feeling of someone fixing to take a cheap shot makes him pivot and nail the guy with a solid kick to the chest. The guy falls back on his butt, breath hitching.
Deuce scoffs and wipes his shoes on the step before going into the shop. The door is almost closed behind him when he hears a strained grunt. He's been in enough fights to know the guy is off the ground and making one last attempt to catch him from the back. More than done with this and just wanting his damn eggs and to say hi to you in all your festive lace, he shoulder checks the door like he's trying to shove Jack out of the lunch line (which he would NEVER, EVER DO).
The guy falls with a satisfying thud and Deuce tries his best to relax his face as he resumes his place in line. It's red from aggravation and the fact he's fishing for his thaumarks because he's forgotten what pocket he put it in. "Sorry about that," he tries to uncrumple the thaumarks a little before handing them to you. "And the face. My face. Not your face! Your face is fine! Like, you're not ugly! I just, uh--"
"Take the change, Deuce-y!" Ace is standing behind him, guiding his nervous body like a puppet. He makes Deuce grab the change and turns him around, shoving him away from the counter before he can make it any worse. "Now help me move this guy's body! He's out cold!"
---
Ace can only laugh when he hears that line. First of all, it's weak. Secondly, the dude must not have any faith in his game if the delivery depends on you being captive behind the counter. During work hours. With an obligation to be forward facing and listening to whatever he says.
"Why? You worried about your budget, buddy?" Ace laughs, hands laced together behind his head.
The guy snaps up, stick-straight. "N-No! I was just--" his face is blooming pink.
"People aren't products, bro. There's no discounts." Ace shakes his head.
"W-What I meant was, I want to take you on a date!" the guy turns back to you and flashes a big smile. All of Ace's pouty mutters fall on deaf ears. Not because he's being quiet, but because the guy is straight up ignoring him. He's not sure where the idea comes from--he'll blame it on an itchy hand--but he sneaks a couple of small candies in the guy's pocket. Sam's familiar top hat bobs into view, snaking around the shelves.
"DON'T FORGET TO PAY FOR THE STUFF IN YOUR POCKETS!" Ace felt confident in his sleight of hand tricks. It wouldn't be the first time he tricked NRC students. It's actually really easy to do. That works in his favor because if everyone can't get their story straight or agree on what they saw, he's a free man.
Sam materializes at the edge of the aisles and seems to stare into the boy's soul. "Young man, please step aside."
Ace looks like the cat that ate the canary as he moseys up to the counter and slaps the box of cherry cordials down. He buys a cherry sucker at the last second, not seeing it at first. "Thanks, Sweets!" Ace winks at you as he strolls out with the bag.
Sam nearly scares him out of his skin, leaning against the wood just outside the door. Ace finally feels the tug of shadows on his feet. "Speaking of sweets," Ace flinches and hides his ear with his blazer, groaning as Sam hooks an arm around his neck and pulls him into his chest sternly. "I understand your frustration, Little Imp. Young love is adorable in all it's wiles! But mark my words, Little Imp: if you lie about wrongdoings in my shop again, you will not come back. Clear?"
"Yes sir." Ace gulps.
"Happy Valentine's Day, Little Imp."
---
Trey isn't really surprised to hear what he just did. 'Boys will be boys', as the saying goes. Frankly, he's disappointed. He's heard smarter things come out of his little brother and sister.
He adjusts his glasses, mentally trying to relax the knot between his eyebrows.
Should he say something? Of course he wants to. It's you! He's been on the other side of the counter plenty of times and has had vivid daydreams of sticking a customer in a stand mixer. But, then again, he has a reputation to uphold and anything he does could reflect back on Riddle.
And send Riddle into a fit, giving him something else to handle.
The more he thought about it, the more he realized he'd have the element of surprise. People--especially men--don't cook enough to know how much arm strength it takes to lift twenty pound bags of flour on the regular. Or the stamina it takes to walk said bags from Sam's shop to Heartslabyul. Even the small five-pound bag of sugar in his basket would suffice as a weapon; the sugar was packed enough to hit like a brick if he lobbed it.
Trey's running the options through his head, almost settling on just saying 'how much for you to stop?' when he sees the end of a sucker rolling between the guy's teeth. Too easy, Trey pushes his glasses up on his nose, hand hiding his smile and the quiet incantation for "Paint the Roses".
All of a sudden the guy is gagging and running for the door. You and everyone else are wondering what the hell just happened. He doesn't come back in. One brave soul suggested he had a really bad gag reflex and the sucker did him in. Only Trey knows it was a mix of sour milk and the pungent soy sauce tart nightmare he tricked Riddle into making once.
"Just this, please. Oh! And what Sam had on hold for me." Trey hands you the sugar, relishing in the brush of your hands.
"Candied violets and a bag of sugar. Twenty thaumarks, please."
"Thanks." Trey smiles at you, laying the sugar flat so his delicate, delectable candied violets don't get crushed.
"Thank you." you smile brightly, handing him the change.
----
Cater wants to gag. Normally Valentine's confessions are cute and IN THE RIGHT SETTING pickup lines are amazing. This? This is a tragedy. Mostly because there is ZERO chemistry and you look #uncomfortable.
He's big on consent since he's always looking for collabs and people to pose with on Magicam so maybe that's why this scene bothers him. Aside from the fact that you're out of this guy's league, obviously. Like, it's really an insult to your time.
'How much do you cost?' Really? You're #priceless.
His brows furrow, lips thinning as he wonders what to do. He plays with the idea of Split Card and creating a small crowd of copies to boo and jeer the guy but the store would be even more packed than it already is. Cater's green eyes twinkle as it hits him. Turning his phone longways, he zooms in on the guy and tells him to keep going because he's live on Magicam. "Don't worry! I've already got all the V-day tags on there! Everyone will see it!"
He's friends with practically everyone at NRC so this guy will be seen by everyone.
Something sick and unfriendly and satisfied swirls in him as the guy's face pales in real time. If he zooms in a little, he can get the beads of sweat in there. "I'll, uh--another time, okay?" the guy darts off and abandons his handful of candy at the register.
"Haul coming later! 'K, bye!" Cater sends a peace sign to the camera, smiling at his own face. He swipes the little chocolates into his basket nonchalantly. He's not even the biggest sweets person but those are his now!
"Gonna have a spicy Valentine's Day, huh?" you ring up the cups of spicy ramen.
"You know it!" he laughs.
"I get it. You have to balance out how sweet you are." you smirk up at him. "Twenty-four thaumarks, please."
#in love. #kiddingnotkidding. #sendhelp. #downbad.
----
Leona doesn't even know why he bothered to show up to Sam's. He could just send Ruggie to get whatever he wanted. The variety of jerky was somewhat tempting but he could just as easily take the bus and get a proper meal off campus. And yet, he stood there with a gloved hand in his pocket, tail swishing back and forth in mild agitation. His green eyes sweep over the winding line until they land on you at the front.
His cheeks warm a little and he scoffs at himself, pretending to pick through the hanging strips of sunflower seeds as the line moves. Every step gets him closer to this soft, powdery scent with just a hint of sweetness. He starts to blame it on all the chocolate and candy and sugary shit exploding out of every possible spot in the store but there's this unmistakable undertone of skin.
Your skin.
He's only caught the scent a million times while hiding from people in the Botanical Gardens. Or when he's forced to attend class, catching a hint of you in the halls.
Leona's not sure why he cares anything about you because you're not magical. You're not interesting.
You shouldn't be, but you are.
You're literally the only person he's ever met from another world. You have no context for the Sunset Savanna or the hierarchy of it. To you, everyone is impressive. He can be something to you.
Why does that matter? He doesn't even know. That's what he tells himself, anyways. You say you have no magic but Leona thinks you can read minds. The look you always give him isn't a pitying one, but a curious one that seeks to dissect him and force him to face everything he keeps shoved deep down inside himself.
Part of him is waiting for the day you pull the right thread and he comes undone in the way he knows he need but can't find the strength for. Somewhere in that knotted mess is his true feelings for you. The stuff he can't admit.
You stand admirably on your own two feet, roughing it out like Ruggie, but you're so far from the intimidating women of the Sunset Savanna. You're approachable and soft; you're built like prey but you have the quick thinking of a predator.
Something in your demeanor changes--your hands pause and flutter nervously--and he's on alert. He's careful to relax his grip lest he crush the box of protein bars for Jack. His ears sling forward and his eyes narrow as he catches that half-baked flirting attempt. Leona doesn't even bother to hide the sneer twisting his face.
Just the thought of you with that hopeful schmuck is nauseating.
Suddenly the scent of all the males around you is overwhelming. Disgusting.
"If you have to ask about the price, you can't afford it. Haven't ya ever heard that before?" Leona 'hmphs' triumphantly, one hand on his hip as he bends down slightly to stare the chump in the face. "Askin' about the price is tacky."
"Wh-what was my total again?"
All Leona had to do was stare at the back of the human's neck. Humans, much like prey animals, grew really squirmy when a predator stared at them too long. Or encroached on their space, much like he was doing. It was for the hell of it at this point.
Leona made a mental note of the guy's face as he scampered off like a terrified cub and looked forward to the day he could send a stray spelldrive disk in his direction.
"Hey Herbivore," Leona plunked the basket down unceremoniously.
"Hey Leona," you looked down at the random stuff in his basket, trying not to smile at what just happened. Something warm and--dare he say it?--proud welled up in his chest when he realized you were happy about him scaring the guy off.
The heart-shaped stickers he kept finding on everything when he got back to Savanaclaw helped, too.
----
Ruggie lived for the holiday specials at Sam's. He was a bit put out that he wasn't picked to staff the Valentine's shift but the in-store discounts were a small consolation. It'd be better if he could stack them with an employee discount but he'd take what he could get! His mouth started watering as soon as he entered, sniffing out deliciously fluffy donuts.
Hopefully people would be distracted with the lollypops and chocolates and leave his donuts alone!
He choked down the occasional nervous whine when people gravitated too close to the donut display, distracting himself with the decor and wondering what would be most profitable to flip. His eyes began to wander to the people in front of him; Ruggie tsk'd at how casual and unguarded they were. Ripe for the picking, he looked at their wallets and fistfuls of thaumarks just out in the open.
If he wasn't worried about being banned from Sam's and losing some gigs he'd--
"How much do you cost?"
EXCUSE ME?! Ruggie freezes, eyes going wide and ears twitching when he hears that. The dude said that and LIVED?
Oh, right. You're not a Savanna girl. The girls back home would beat him up and make him pay them to stop. Or just smack the shit out of him hard enough to put him in a coma. Maybe break his jaw so he can't drop anymore awful lines.
Women are to be respected! Not treated like something you can purchase!
Given that you weren't a Savanna girl and were bound by the rules of 'I'm currently on the clock', Ruggie took things into his own hands. You could just treat him later!
"Laugh with Me!" Ruggie hisses, backing into the closest display. It was a little bump to him but far more to the guy up front. He waved his arm around, skimming the bags of gummy candies while the guy at the register knocked down a whole tower of balloons on a stick. Bending over just enough to line the guy's head up with the counter, Ruggie lunges forward.
WOMP!
Oh it was so satisfying. The guy is hopelessly, helplessly stunned. He gathers his bearings and Ruggie slides his foot out; the guy loses his footing and slams into the counter again.
Only two times before he gives up? Kind of weak-willed, Ruggie thinks with a little smirk as he side-steps the disoriented guy and waits patiently to check out. Sam tends to him while you get the donuts he's been craving.
They'll taste even better because they smell like you. Happy Valentine's Day to him!
-----
Jack is usually very stoic but a lot of people mistake his stoic observation for irritation. He would blame it on his intimidating physique but he's not sorry and takes great pride in his appearance. He's a beastman--a Howl!--he's supposed to be intimidating! Intimidating appearance aside, Jack is also a very helpful soul.
A good boy, if you will.
The only reason he's in Sam's is on Ruggie's behalf. He was tasked with picking up a few things and was more than happy to help out his senior. They were from the same dorm, after all! Practically a pack! You have to help your pack!
He's not really bothered by the amount of people, more focused on keeping his tail out of people's way and making sure he doesn't knock anything over. All at once, the atmosphere changes a little. There's a hint of sour in the air and a noticeable hike in someone's pulse.
It's your pulse. You look...distressed? Why are you distressed? Where is the threat?
Whatever it was, he missed it and he's cursing himself.
His ears swing forward as he catches bits and pieces of conversations. Some people are complaining the guy is taking too long, other people are laughing at his crappy pickup line. Some people are wondering if it's going to work.
This was a weak display if he ever saw one. The guy didn't even look confident in himself! All of your body language has now firmed up into rejection but the guy's not getting the hint. He's trying the 'oh, c'mon!' thing his siblings do when they want to play.
You don't know it, but you've been feeding Jack when he trots by in wolf form. He likes to finish off his morning jogs in wolf form to really stretch his joints and obliques. It was supposed to be a one-off thing, him following the tantalizing aroma of food to your door. Your cooking is fantastic and while you don't know that you're a pack mate, you're a pack mate!
You're just a pack mate who feeds him and gives him occasional pets. And these to die for scratches that he'd kill to feel with his real skin instead of fur. Any touch would be fine, really. Not that you'd ever know.
Jack doesn't even know he's growling until people start moving out of his way. The growl crescendos as he walks towards the guy. Tail bristling, Jack opens his mouth to show off sharp canines. "Get lost! They're not interested in you! They're just trying to work!"
As expected, the guy tucks tail and runs. Jack snorts, licking his lips that have suddenly become dry. His ears don't know what to do, caught between catching all the murmurs behind him and wanting to press down in embarrassment.
It's quiet but he hears it. "Thank you, Jack."
"Don't mention it," he crosses his arms, looking everywhere but you as you scan his items. He was avoiding looking at you directly but he notices you slip a few extra beef sticks into his bag. He blushes.
Yeah, don't mention that either.
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solelifauna · 5 months ago
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With Bared Teeth & Prayers (Yandere Batfam X Neglected Reader) (Dark!!! Werewolf AU) (PT. 2)
Hi guys, I’m alive. I’ve just been sick and then found out that my dog’s cancer spread and the surgery costs $3,000 which is insane. Anyways, I’ve been working irl so I completely forgot about this account. Sorry pookies🤕🙏.
If anyone wants to know I’m still taking commissions, and if my price doesn’t work for you I’m sure I can lower it!! Honestly, I’ll write for whatever price I’m lowkey desperate.😭🙏
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The next morning, you wake up in panic, shit, you slept in. You rush out the manor forgoing breakfast, almost eating shit on the sidewalk in your rush. You hop onto your bike, pedaling as if death itself was chasing you, huffing and puffing. Thankfully you make it to school on time, if only just on time.
You fall into your seat just as the bell rings, letting the top half of your body crumple over the desk.
“Looks like somebody had a rough morning.” The familiar voice of one of your best friends.
“Fuck off Quinn.” You huff out tiredly.
“Fine, then I guess this extra black coffee I got at Gloria’s is going to waste then.” She said teasingly.
How is it that she always has impeccable intuition about these things?
You groaned sitting up, giving Quinn a tired look.
“Yikes, I was gonna make another smartass joke but you look like you’re about to keel over.” She said worriedly, handing over the extra coffee.
“Ha ha, yeah I feel like I'm about to keel over. Thanks for the coffee by the way.” You said dryly.
“Don’t sweat it girl, but–uh, what the hell happened.”
“Too much dude, too much. It's so much bullshit I don't even know where to start.”
“Im guessing its about–”
“Ding, ding, ding, you got it.”
“Shit…how bad? They’re not gonna… you know…” Quinn stutters off.
“Kill me? Eat me?” 
She nodded.
You massage your forehead, a headache forming between your eyebrows. “I'll be so for real right now, I don't even know.”
“Damn, I don't even know what to say to that.” Quinn grimaces.
“It’d be weird if you did.” You joked giving her a sardonic smile.“Well if they’re gonna kill me, I hope they do it before finals.”
“You’ve got issues (Y/n).”
“I’m aware.”
Just then the chatter in the class started to pipe down as your history teacher, Mr. Lechliter, made his way into the room. However, something wasn’t right; his usually neat hair was in disarray and you could smell that he was profusely sweating. He was nervous, which was completely out of character. Sure Mr. Lechliter was awkward at times but he was normally confident and loud around the class, something was going on. 
“Good morning, class,” Mr. Lechliter began, but his voice was shaky, not at all the usual booming tone he used to command the room. “I-uh, hope you’re all ready to jump into… um, well, history.” He swallowed hard, glancing around as if searching for something—or someone—outside the door.
You look at Quinn with a raised eyebrow. What the hell is happening right now?
“We, um, actually have two guests who’ll be auditing a couple of classes today so we all want you guys on your best behavior. For our sakes and yours.” He said fidgeting with his paperweight globe, however, it was what he whispered under his breath that had you worried. What the fuck did he mean by that?!
“These guest speakers are one of the school's top sponsors so I truly cannot express the need we have for you all to behave and be on task, understand?” Mr. Lechliter spoke gravely.
The class let out a scattered “Yes” whilst others nodded. Now it was the class's turn to start getting nervous, the energy in the room now becoming quite grim. Seeing the class’s cooperation, Mr. Lechliter let out a shaky smile and nodded back at the class in approval. You sipped your coffee nervously in tandem.
“Good. Now, without further adieu, please welcome the esteemed Bruce Wayne and his son, CEO of Wayne Enterprises, Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne.”
And in walked your worst nightmare as you choked on your coffee. A hesitant applause began as a couple of heads turned your way, including the scrutinizing eyes of Bruce Wayne and Tim Drake.
“Jesus Christ (Y/n), are you good?” Quinn whispered, patting your back.
“Does it look like I'm good, Quinn?” You whisper-yell back.
“Sorry, dumb question.”
“I legitimately can't do this right now.” You groan out quietly.
Tim’s sharp, calculating gaze landed on you, and for a split second, his lips twitched upward in what looked disturbingly close to satisfaction. Bruce, however, kept his gaze steady, stoic, making his way to the front of the class like he owned every square inch of the room—and maybe, in a way, he did.
Bruce stepped forward, greeting Mr. Lechliter with a firm handshake before addressing the class. “Good morning,” he said, his voice carrying a smooth authority. “It’s always a pleasure to see the next generation of Gotham’s finest minds, and today, we’re here to discuss some unique opportunities with Wayne Enterprises—partnerships, scholarships, and mentorship programs that may be of interest to you in your future studies.”
Meanwhile, Tim’s gaze remained fixed on you, a silent warning lingering behind his polite smile. You swallowed hard, avoiding eye contact, hoping that blending in might somehow make you invisible. But Tim had no intention of letting you off the hook. He leaned slightly closer to Bruce, murmuring something that made Bruce’s eyes flicker in your direction, his expression unreadable.
Quinn leaned over, her voice barely a whisper. “(Y/n), what the hell is going on? They keep looking at you.”
“Trust me, I wish I knew,” you muttered back, managing to take a sip of coffee without choking this time. “They’re just here to make my life a living nightmare, apparently.”
As Bruce and Tim began their presentation, outlining all the “wonderful opportunities” that a connection to Wayne Enterprises could bring, you couldn’t help but feel trapped. Every line, every subtle glance, seemed like a reminder that escape from their influence was impossible. They were inescapable, even here, in the one place you thought you could breathe.
When they finally wrapped up their presentation, Bruce offered to answer questions, his gaze settling on you for the briefest moment, as if daring you to speak up. You just nervously looked away, its fine, they’ve said their piece and will be leaving soon.
But of course life doesn't ever go the way that you want.
The relief that had started to settle in evaporated as Bruce and Tim made no move to leave. Instead, they took seats at the back of the classroom, settling in with that same poised, assessing presence that dominated every room they entered. Bruce folded his hands in his lap, his gaze steady and inscrutable, while Tim casually crossed his arms, his eyes tracking every student’s reaction, but always coming back to you.
You swallowed hard, glancing at Quinn, who was now just as unsettled as you were. “Are they… staying?” she whispered, her brows knitting together in worry.
“Looks like it,” you muttered, barely moving your lips.
Mr. Lechliter, visibly tense under the weight of their scrutiny, resumed his lesson with all the grace of a man on the edge of a breakdown. Every time he stumbled over his words or glanced nervously at Bruce, the room felt as if it held its breath.
“This, um, particular era in history…” Mr. Lechliter began, stammering slightly as he struggled to keep his usual confident tone. “It’s a time when alliances shifted often, and there was…constant jockeying for power…”
Bruce and Tim watched, expressions neutral, but you knew better than to believe their act. They weren’t here for any genuine interest in educational standards; they were here as a reminder, a warning that the Wayne influence extended beyond the manor walls.
You focused on your notebook, pen tapping anxiously against the paper as you tried to tune them out and take frantic notes. But it was impossible to ignore the cold prickle at the back of your neck. Every glance felt like a needle, each second stretching longer than the last.
Mr. Lechliter’s lecture painstakingly continued on for another thirty minutes before class started coming to an end.
The bell finally rang as you shot up out of your seat and practically sprinted out the door. You head to your locker, feeling the many starters of students and teachers bore into you. Another thing was that everyone kinda knew that the Wayne’s didn't like you, it was very obvious. Which meant the media had a field day, letting the entirety of Gotham know how much the famous pack hated you. So now your business was also aired out to the entire world to know. Wonderful, am I right?
You shove your unneeded books into your (tbh, very cutely) decorated locker, while grabbing the science textbook you needed for your next class, AP Biology. This class was the absolute bane of your existence. Not only was the content hard, the teacher was also absolutely nuts. You walk over to your Bio class, clutching your books like a lifeline. “Please, dont be here too.” You pray to yourself. Thankfully, this class was normal, well, as normal as it could get. The other two classes you have before lunch ended the same way, Wayneless. 
As your fourth class comes to an end your stomach starts to growl. You’d be embarrassed, but everyone else in your class was in a similar starved state. When the lunch bell goes off, you’re excitedly grabbing your things and making your way down. Fucking finally it was lunchtime. You made your way to the quickly growing lunchline
Your friends were already sitting at your usual table as you made your way over and slammed your lunch tray on the table.
“Im gonna kill myself.”
“I can't even say anything about that.” One of your other friends Daniel says.
You groaned holding your head in your hands, your headache becoming more prevalent as you turn to look at him.
“Man all I did was ask to leave, and now this shit? I can't even right now.”
“You finally asked to leave, huh? I'm guessing it didn't go well.” Daniel asks.
“Nope, but when does anything ever go right in my life.”
Just as you finish talking, the noisy cafeteria falls abruptly silent. The usual clatter of trays and chatter of students fades, replaced by an almost eerie quiet. You and your friends exchange confused glances before turning to see what—or who—could possibly have silenced a room full of teenagers. But in the pit of your stomach, you already have an idea.
Sure enough, walking through the entrance are Bruce Wayne and Tim Drake-Wayne, looking completely out of place in their immaculate suits and composed expressions. Their powerful, calculating gazes sweep across the crowd, searching for someone, before both of their eyes zero in on you and your table. Instinctively, you tense up, your shoulders hunching as if to make yourself smaller, and you feel the flush of embarrassment heat your cheeks under their scrutiny.
Their focused stares make you flinch, and you quickly look away, facing your friends once more. “See what I mean?” you mutter under your breath, trying to keep your voice steady. “It’s like the universe is out to get me.”
Daniel raises an eyebrow, glancing between you and the Waynes, a flicker of worry passing over his face. "What are they doing here? This isn’t normal, right?”
“No, it’s definitely not,” you reply, trying to keep your tone casual even as your heart races. “They’re here to make a point.”
You further slump into the table, arms cradling your head as the cafeteria slowly starts to go back to its normal noise level. Both Tim and Bruce take a seat at a table opposite to where you’re sitting, which gives them a perfect view of your table. Great.
“Guys talk to me. Anything–talk about anything please.” You beg quietly.
Quinn leans in, glancing nervously at the Waynes across the cafeteria. “Uh, did you hear about Chief Keef performing soon? Apparently, he’ll be in Gotham.”
Daniel nods, catching on to your plea for distraction. “Yeah, yeah, I heard he's gonna bring another artist on stage. Mauve Travis or something if we’re lucky?.”
You smile weakly, grateful for the distraction, even if your heart’s still pounding. You try to focus on what they’re saying, but you can feel Tim’s gaze on you like a laser, scrutinizing, watching every movement. You pretend not to notice, grabbing a fry from your tray and nodding along to whatever Daniel and Quinn are saying, forcing yourself to join in with a half-hearted laugh here and there.
Quinn suddenly brings up a story from her last weekend, trying her best to lighten the mood. “Okay, get this—I tried to impress this guy by pretending to know how to skate, but instead, I ended up flat on my face in front of, like, everyone. Mortifying, but he did buy me a smoothie as a consolation prize.”
You chuckle, letting the story pull you out of your anxious thoughts. “I mean, sounds like it kind of worked. You got a free smoothie, right?”
Quinn laughs, rolling her eyes. “Only because he felt bad, but hey, I’ll take pity smoothies.”
The laughter at your table grows, the lighthearted moment almost making you forget the ominous presence of Bruce and Tim nearby. But just as you’re starting to relax, you catch a glimpse of Tim’s amused smirk from the corner of your eye. His eyes don’t leave you, as if he knows exactly how unsettling his presence is and he’s reveling in it.
“I think he liked you,” Daniel teases Quinn, keeping the conversation going to help ease your nerves.
“Liked my bruised ego, maybe,” she snorts. “Anyway, what about you, (Y/n)? Got any secret admirers?”
You shake your head, grateful they’re keeping the focus off your current predicament. “Nope, unless you count the cadaver frog I accidentally dropped on my lab partner. He, uh-didn’t look at me the same after that.”
Your friends burst out laughing, and for a brief, blessed moment, you almost feel normal again. But when you glance back, Bruce’s eyes are still on you, cool and unyielding.
“Here’s to hoping they’re gone after lunch,” Daniel mutters, catching your uneasy glance.
“What good has hoping ever done me?” You sigh, picking at your food.
The tension in the cafeteria never fully fades. Despite the attempts from Quinn and Daniel to keep the conversation going, the presence of Bruce and Tim just continues to overwhelm you. Every so often, your eyes flit toward them, only to find them still seated, still watching, and their expressions betraying nothing of their true intent. It feels like they’re waiting for you to make a move, to react in some way that would justify their unsettling attention.
Lunch drags on in this uncomfortable limbo until, at last, the bell rings, signaling the end of the break. Your friends gather their things, offering small words of encouragement or supportive smiles, though they too look wary of the Waynes’ lingering presence.
“I’ll see you both in Chem. Hopefully Mr. Domzalski isn't still in a bad mood from what happened yesterday.” You say.
“You mean from when you and Daniel set fire to one of his textbooks?” Quinn questions sardonically.
You and Daniel offer her a sheepish, guilty smile. 
“Hey–it was an accident!” he exclaims, feigning offense.
“Yeah, what he said! We followed all the instructions to a T!” You defend as well.
“Sure, whatever you both say. I'm just surprised he didn't automatically fail you two.” Quinn says fondly.
“It’s ‘cause we’re somehow his favorites? Don't ask me how or why though.” You respond.
As you and Daniel chuckle, the lightheartedness helps lift some of the weight that had been hanging over your head. The relief is short-lived, though, as you feel a prickle on the back of your neck—a feeling that’s become all too familiar lately.
You glance back to see Bruce and Tim still watching, and for a moment, something in Bruce’s gaze changes. You can’t quite read it, but it feels sharper, like he’s calculating, considering something he hasn’t said. You swallow, gripping your bag tighter as your friends move to head toward class, unaware of the silent tension hanging around you like a cloud.
You head to your APA Algebra II class alone, without the usual buffer of Daniel or Quinn’s lighthearted banter to ease the tension. The classroom is quiet, a different atmosphere from the lively lunch period, and you’re able to slip into your seat undisturbed, hoping that the math problems ahead will give you a welcome distraction.
As the class moves on, you find yourself lost in equations, the numbers and formulas acting as a temporary refuge from everything else. You keep your head down, concentrating on the work, grateful for the momentary peace that academics bring.
When the bell rings, signaling the end of Math, you gather your things and head to APA Chemistry, where you’d finally reunite with Daniel and Quinn. When you arrive in APA Chemistry, the atmosphere is surprisingly relaxed. Mr. Domzalski hasn’t arrived yet, so everyone’s just hanging out, chatting about weekend plans, or joking around. You plop down next to Daniel, who’s already doodling on his notebook, and give Quinn a tired smile. It’s nice to have a few minutes to unwind before the usual controlled chaos of Mr. Domzalski’s class kicks in.
Then, the door swings open, and you freeze as Mr. Domzalski steps in with Tim Drake following close behind. Your stomach twists, and you have to swallow down a groan. Thankfully, Bruce is nowhere to be seen. Small blessings, you suppose; better not to question it too much. You look at your friends, trying to convey your annoyance with a single tired look as Mr. Domzalski beams with a sort of overdone excitement that sets you on edge.
“Everyone, I’d like you to welcome a special guest,” he says, practically brimming with enthusiasm. “Tim Drake-Wayne, CEO of Wayne Enterprises, is here to observe our class today.”
You sink lower in your chair, stifling a grumble. Great, just great. This whole thing was growing stale fast. You try to ignore the interested murmurs spreading through the class as everyone stares at Tim, who stands there with that same polite, professional smile he’s been flashing all day. You avoid eye contact, focusing instead on the edge of your desk as Mr. Domzalski continues.
“Now,” Mr. Domzalski goes on, shifting his focus to the lab materials, “before we dive into today’s lesson, let’s review what went wrong in yesterday’s lab.”
He shoots a pointed look in your direction, his smile still in place, but there’s a glint in his eyes that tells you he’s not exactly thrilled. “For those who might need a reminder,” he continues, not-so-subtly side-eyeing you and Daniel, “improper handling of materials led to one of my textbooks, which I cherish dearly, being set on fire.”
The class erupts into quiet snickers, and Daniel coughs into his hand, trying to disguise his laughter. You roll your eyes, but a smirk tugs at the corner of your mouth. Even Tim’s eyes change a bit, as if interested.
Mr. Domzalski clears his throat, regaining the class’s attention. “Let’s aim for a little more caution today, shall we?”
The lab for the day was going to be more complex than usual. Mr. Domzalski, with a edge of nervousness in his tone, began rattling off the new, more complicated instructions. His gaze flicked to you and Daniel more than once, lingering just long enough to make his message clear: Please don’t mess up.
You slouched slightly in your seat, already feeling the weight of the unspoken pressure. It wasn’t lost on you how much was riding on this lab going smoothly—not just for your grade, but for Mr. Domzalski himself. With Tim Drake-Wayne, CEO of Wayne Enterprises and a member of one of Gotham’s most powerful packs, observing, any mishap could very well put your teacher’s job on the line.
Next to you, Daniel caught your eye, his lips twitching into a wry smirk. He leaned in, whispering, “Feel like we’re walking on eggshells today, huh?”
“More like a minefield,” you muttered back, eyeing the lab equipment warily. The setup looked far more intricate than usual—beakers and flasks stacked alongside pipettes, Bunsen burners, and an array of unfamiliar chemicals. It was a recipe for disaster, and you had no intention of being the one to set it off.
Tim, seated at the back of the room, watched the proceedings with his usual cool detachment. His presence was like a weight pressing down on the room, amplifying every minor sound and movement. You could practically feel his gaze on you, even when you weren’t looking his way.
“Alright, everyone,” Mr. Domzalski said, clapping his hands to gather the class’s attention. “Remember to follow the instructions precisely as they’re written. This is a delicate experiment, and precision is key. Any deviation could—well, let’s just say we don’t want any surprises today.”
The pointed glance he sent your way at the word “surprises” made you cringe internally. You shot Daniel a look. He seemed to get the message, giving you a small nod before turning his focus to the materials in front of him.
With a deep breath, you adjusted your goggles and got to work, determined not to give anyone—especially Tim—a reason to criticize.
The lab was rough from the very start. No matter how tightly you adjusted your goggles, they kept fogging up, obscuring your vision at the worst possible moments. You constantly had to pause to wipe them off, and each time, you felt Tim's Gaze flicker towards you. Daniel, meanwhile, was no better. He almost tipped over a vial of some unpronounceable chemical twice, and each time, you barely managed to steady it before disaster struck.
“Bro you have to lock in.” you said under your breath.
“I'm trying–fuck. My hands are too shaky.” Daniel whispered back, nervous as he tried held out his hands for you to see. He carefully set the vial down, only for his elbow to nudge another piece of equipment. You caught it just in time, your heart leaping into your throat.
The instructions seemed to come at lightning speed, Mr. Domzalski rattling off steps faster than you could write them down. Each new instruction layered on top of the last until your head was spinning with measurements, temperatures, and reaction times. You were doing your best to keep up—you think you were doing it right—but the constant noise and movement around you made it feel like everything was closing in.
You glanced at the flask on your workstation, bubbling faintly as it was supposed to, and double-checked the temperature. It seemed fine. Probably fine. Hopefully fine. But the nagging thought that you might’ve missed a step wouldn’t go away.
Behind you, Tim’s silent observation was like a shadow, adding another layer of stress to the already chaotic atmosphere. Every time you caught sight of him out of the corner of your eye, you swore his expression was unreadable, yet somehow judgmental.
“I think this is right,” you muttered, glancing at the next step in the instructions and adjusting your setup.
“‘Think’ isn’t reassuring, (Y/n),” Daniel replied, he was nervous. “Don’t blow us up, okay?”
“Not funny,” you snapped, though your lips twitched in a half-smile despite the stress. “Just keep stirring before we mess up the timing.”
The rest of the lab dragged on in a haze of nervous energy and frantic adjustments. Your hands trembled slightly as you measured out the final chemical, careful not to let even a drop spill. When you finally completed the experiment, the mixture in the beaker turned the correct pale blue color, and you let out a shaky breath of relief.
“See?” Daniel said, flashing you a grin. “We nailed it.”
You gave him a tired look. “Barely.”
As Mr. Domzalski approached to check your work, you held your breath, praying there wasn’t some detail you’d overlooked. When he gave a curt nod of approval, you finally relaxed, though your nerves still felt frayed. Even then, you could feel Tim’s eyes on you, as if silently appraising every moment of your struggle.
The lab was over, but the stress lingered like a heavy weight on your shoulders. You packed up your materials with shaky hands, grateful to escape the pressure of both the experiment and the unrelenting scrutiny.
As the class wrapped up, Mr. Domzalski passed by your station, his sharp eyes flicking over the completed experiment. The pale blue liquid in the beaker must have been just right because, instead of his usual critical remarks, he gave a subtle nod and a quiet, “Good work.” The words weren’t overly enthusiastic, but coming from him—and especially with Tim Drake watching—it was as close to praise as you could get.
You felt a weight lift off your shoulders, and you let out a long sigh of relief. You and Daniel exchanged a look, his triumphant grin mirrored by the faintest smile you allowed yourself. You’d passed. Somehow, despite the foggy goggles, Daniel’s near-disasters, and the relentless pressure, you’d made it through the lab unscathed.
As you finished cleaning up, Mr. Domzalski gave you a brief, silent glance of thanks. It wasn’t much, but you knew what it meant: he was grateful you hadn’t turned today’s experiment into another headline-worthy incident. You nodded subtly back, grateful that the ordeal was over.
With the last of your equipment put away, you grabbed your bag and escaped the lab as quickly as possible, the weight of Tim’s lingering gaze finally lifting as you stepped into the hallway. Quinn was waiting by the door, chatting with Daniel, who was still buzzing with post-lab adrenaline.
“Well, looks like you didn’t burn down the school,” Quinn teased, grinning as she fell into step with you.
“Yeah, yeah,” you muttered, rolling your eyes but smiling despite yourself. “We’re still alive, so I guess that’s a win.”
“Hey give us more credit.” Daniel chimed in, earning a laugh from both you and Quinn.
As the three of you headed for the stairs, you said goodbye to Daniel, who was heading to a different class. “See you later, guys.�� he said, waving as he turned down another hallway.
You and Quinn made your way toward the gym for your seventh period, the final class of the day. The familiar chatter and clang of lockers greeted you as you stepped into the changing area. Gym wasn’t exactly your favorite class, but after the stress of the lab, it was almost a relief to have something physical to focus on instead of the constant mental strain.
“Think they’ll leave you alone for the day?” Quinn asked as you pulled on your gym shoes.
“I hope so,” you replied, your voice weary. “I can’t handle any more of this. It’s like they can’t even wait to-to…you know.”
Quinn grimaces. “Yeah, I know.” But she smiles back at you, as if tying to make you perk up. “Well, at least we’re doing dodgeball today, you should blow off some steam.”
You huff, amused. “Mm, maybe nailing Farah in the head with a dodgeball would do me some good.”
“Straight on bitch, that girl needs to be humbled.” Quinn says.
You chuckled, shaking your head. “At this point, I’ll take any excuse to hit something.”
The two of you stepped into the gym, the sound of sneakers squeaking on polished floors and the buzz of students warming up filling the air. It wasn’t the easiest day, but at least the end was finally in sight.
The day finally winds down as you head to the locker rooms to change. The smell of sweat and disinfectant fills the air as you and the other students shuffle to your lockers, exchanging the occasional half-hearted quip about how much of a drill sergeant Coach Walker was today. You change quickly, eager to escape the lingering humidity of the gym, and sling your bag over your shoulder just as the dismissal bell rings.
Joining the tide of students heading toward the front exit, you fall into step with Quinn, chatting idly about homework and plans for the weekend. The sprawling line of cars in the pick-up area is already forming, parents eager to whisk their kids away from the chaos of the school day.
Daniel spots you both as he weaves through the crowd toward his mom’s car, parked conveniently near the front of the line. “Guess that’s my ride,” he calls, swatting your shoulder playfully. “Try not to miss me too much tomorrow, I've got a doc's appointment.”
You laugh, shaking your head. “Yeah, yeah, you wish asshole.”
“Later!” he shouts, hopping into the passenger seat of his mom’s car as it pulls away. You and Quinn wave after him before continuing toward the pick-up zone.
“Alfred here today?” Quinn asks, glancing around at the cars idling nearby.
“Probably not,” you reply with a shrug. “Haven’t heard from him, so it’s probably just me and the bike today.”
Quinn nods, her attention already shifting to a car pulling up in the distance. “Looks like my dad’s almost here.”
You glance toward the pickup area and spot the familiar vehicle inching closer. “Cool. Guess I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”
“Yep. Don’t get mugged on the way home,” she jokes, smirking as she adjusts her backpack.
“Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence,” you reply with a laugh. With a quick goodbye, you head toward the bike rack to unlock your trusty two-wheeler.
The quietness of the parking lot is a stark contrast to the noisy chaos of the day. You crouch down, fiddling with the combination lock on your bike, when a hulking shadow falls over you. The sudden shift in light is enough to make your instincts bristle, but you stay focused on the lock, rolling your eyes at the interruption.
“Bro, if you’re lookin’ to mug me,” you say without looking up, your tone flat and unamused, “you should know I’m skint broke. Try some other bitch.”
The air around you seems to thicken with tension, and you feel the unmistakable weight of someone’s gaze boring into you. It’s enough to make you pause mid-turn on the lock, your breath catching as a low, familiar voice responds.
“I sure hope you’re not talking to me?” Comes your father, Bruce’s, deep voice.
Your head snaps up, and your breath catches in your throat as you realize it’s not some wannabe punk standing over you.
You pale instantly, the color draining from your face as you meet his icy blue eyes. His expression is unreadable, but the weight of his gaze is suffocating. The sheer presence of him—imposing, cold, and unnervingly silent—makes your stomach churn with dread. Your heart pounds in your chest as you scramble for words, your brain tripping over itself in panic.
“Oh—uh, Mr. Wayne—I didn’t—I mean, I thought…” you stammer, trying to cobble together an explanation and an apology all at once. Your hands fumble with the lock on your bike, suddenly feeling clumsy under his scrutiny. “I—um—sorry! I thought—uh—someone else—”
He raises an eyebrow, the tiniest shift in his expression, but it’s enough to make you flinch. You straighten up, clutching your bike for dear life, feeling small and utterly exposed under his towering figure.
“I see,” he says finally, his voice calm but laced with that undercurrent of authority that makes it clear he’s not just seeing. He’s assessing.
“I didn’t realize it was you,” you blurt, trying to salvage what’s left of your dignity. “I thought it was, uh, someone else. Someone trying to—um—mug me?” The excuse sounds weak even to your own ears, and you wince inwardly at how ridiculous it must sound.
Bruce’s gaze doesn’t waver. “Do you make a habit of mouthing off to strangers you assume are threats?” he asks, his tone deceptively mild.
“N-no, sir,” you stammer, shaking your head quickly. “I just—I didn’t mean anything by it. It’s been a long day, and I wasn’t thinking—”
He holds up a hand, cutting off your rambling. “Enough,” he says, “I’m here to pick you up. Alfred’s occupied.”
Your mouth opens, then closes, as you try to process his words. You hadn’t even considered the possibility that Bruce might be the one picking you up today. Of course, the thought of him going out of his way to do so hadn’t even crossed your mind, it wasn’t like he ever went out of his way for you before.
“Oh,” you manage after an awkward pause. “Right. Thanks.”
You still have your conversation from the previous day in mind.
“Come on,” he says, turning without another word. “We’re leaving.”
You hastily shove your bike into the back of his sleek black car, your movements hurried and uncoordinated under the pressure of his presence. Sliding into the back seat, you notice Tim sitting in the front passenger seat, looking at you through the rear mirror. You avert your gaze, clasping your hands tightly in your lap, trying not to fidget as the engine purrs to life. The air inside the car is thick with silence, broken only by the occasional click of the turn signal as Bruce maneuvers through traffic.
You steal a glance at him, his expression as stoic and unreadable as ever. Despite the tension knotting your stomach, you force yourself to speak. “I—uh, thanks for picking me up,” you mumble, staring out the window.
Bruce doesn’t respond immediately, his eyes fixed on the road. When he finally speaks, his tone is even but firm. “We’ll talk when we get home.”
Your throat tightens when you see Tim's glee filled smile, as if a cat had just caught a canary. You nod mutely, knowing there’s no point in arguing. Whatever he has to say, it’s not going to be pleasant.
[Hope you guys liked the chapter!! I'm sorry for the delay and the ghosting, more fics will be updated trust!! Also thank you to all the people who were checking on me, I really appreciate it!!]
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omegaversereloaded · 4 months ago
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🇵🇸 Samer's story 🇵🇸
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"My friends, my name is Samer. I once had a home, a family, and a job. But due to this devastating war, I lost everything and now own nothing. Despite all this, I refused to let misfortune break my spirit. I decided to raise funds to help me and my family leave and start anew. I launched a fundraising campaign, but despite my tireless efforts, I couldn't gather the necessary funds due to banks refusing to transfer money.
However, I did not give up. I began another campaign, working tirelessly on it in the hope that I will achieve my goal. All of this is for a chance to begin again and to give my children a better future.
For the past year and a half, we have been living in extremely difficult conditions.
My children are suffering due to these circumstances.
We urgently need your help and support, no matter how small it may seem to you it makes a world of difference for my family.
Please support us with $5, $10, or any contribution you can offer. It will be deeply appreciated. To learn more about our struggles, follow the link to my campaign:"
Donation link
I kindly ask that you also help by sharing this campaign with your friends and spreading it across social media platforms. Your support could be the turning point for this family!!
@samerpal has been ✅️Vetted by @gazavetters, my number verified on the list is ( #240 )✅️
Please share and donate if you can! I was made aware of this campaign because of ibrahim! Thank you 🥰🥰
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writeriguess · 23 days ago
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can i request a bakugou x reader. the reader is in a relationship with him for a few months now. they just never told anyone about it. their friends (bakusquad) are surprised when they suddenly cuddle up during movie night.
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Close Quarters and Closer Hearts
The living room hums with the comforting buzz of conversation and the scent of freshly popped popcorn. The Bakusquad lounges around, the flickering glow of the TV casting soft shadows over everyone’s faces. Kaminari’s sprawled out on the floor, a bowl of popcorn perched dangerously on his chest. Mina has claimed the comfiest corner of the couch, curled up with a blanket, while Sero and Kirishima share the remaining cushions, elbows already digging into ribs over the best seat.
You’re hovering awkwardly near the doorway, trying to decide the best place to sit. When your eyes meet Bakugou’s, he arches a brow, lips twitching in a smirk. He’s settled himself at the end of the couch, legs spread in that relaxed but commanding posture. He jerks his chin, wordlessly beckoning you over.
“Oi, finally done loitering?” he grumbles when you hesitate. “Get over here.”
The others are too caught up in a debate about which horror movie to watch—Mina votes for something gory, Kaminari wants comedy—to notice as you cross the room. Your heart races as you sink down beside him. You keep a polite distance at first, until his arm slides around your shoulders, tugging you against his side.
Your pulse jumps, but Bakugou just scoffs. “What, you scared or something?”
You give him a playful glare, cheeks warming. “No, just didn’t know you were so clingy.”
“Shut up.” He squeezes your shoulder and mutters, “You’re the clingy one.”
The couch creaks as the others pile on. Kaminari flops down on the floor at your feet, groaning dramatically. “If I die of boredom, it’s Mina’s fault. Just saying.”
She sticks her tongue out. “You have the attention span of a goldfish.”
“I do not—oh hey, snacks!” He reaches for the popcorn but gets smacked away by Mina’s foot.
The banter continues, but you can’t focus. Bakugou’s arm is still draped casually over your shoulders, his thumb tracing light patterns. It’s subtle, but it feels incredibly intimate. You’re hyper-aware of every breath he takes, the warmth radiating from his body.
It’s not until the movie starts—a classic slasher—that Mina glances over, her eyes narrowing. “Wait a second.”
You freeze, but Bakugou only sighs, muttering, “Great.”
Mina’s eyes bounce from you to him and back again. “Are you two... cuddling?”
The room falls silent. Kaminari’s head whips around so fast you’re surprised he doesn’t get whiplash. Kirishima’s brows shoot up. Sero’s eyes widen.
“No way,” Kaminari blurts out, gaping. “You’re dating Bakugou?”
Your cheeks flame, but Bakugou just clicks his tongue. “No shit, dunce face.”
Kirishima’s mouth drops open before he grins wide. “Bro, when did this happen?”
“A few months ago,” you admit, fidgeting under the sudden scrutiny.
“A few months?” Mina yelps. “And you didn’t tell us?!”
“Would you have believed me?” you counter.
Kaminari snorts. “Uh, no. You’d have to show me proof—like, make out or something.”
Bakugou’s eyes narrow dangerously. “Keep talking, and you’ll eat a fist.”
“Jeez, okay, chill!” Kaminari laughs, unfazed. “Just saying, I would’ve bet money you’d stay single forever.”
Bakugou smirks. “Guess you’d be broke, idiot.”
Mina’s outrage shifts into a smirk of her own. “Okay, but like... how did this even start?”
“We just clicked,” you say.
Bakugou scoffs. “Took you forever to admit you liked me.”
“Oh, please,” you shoot back. “You were the one dragging me out on ‘not-dates’ every week.”
Kirishima laughs. “Man, you really have a type. Explosive and stubborn.”
Bakugou rolls his eyes. “Whatever. You done interrogating us?”
“Never,” Mina singsongs, but she relents. The conversation shifts back to the movie, but the teasing glances continue.
Eventually, Bakugou pulls you closer, his hand warm on your shoulder. “Ignore ‘em,” he mutters. “You’re mine, not theirs.”
You smile, leaning into his touch. “Oh, possessive now?”
“Shut up,” he grumbles, lips twitching. But he doesn’t pull away, and neither do you.
The movie plays on, forgotten as the Bakusquad starts bickering about plot holes. You’re nestled against Bakugou’s side, his thumb brushing lazy circles against your arm. And despite the teasing and gawking, you can’t help but feel incredibly lucky.
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yuujispinkhair · 1 year ago
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Bad Boy - Good Toy
Sukuna is used to girls throwing themselves at him, begging him to dominate them. He never met any resistance. He never met any challenge. Until he meets you, and suddenly, the bad boy becomes nothing but a willing fucktoy.
There is now a Part 02
Pairing: Sub!Sukuna x Dom!Reader (female) Genre: smut, College AU Word Count: 3.5k Warnings: 18+, smut, degradation, humiliation, edging, exhibitionism, voyeurism, smoking, mentions of drugs, sharing chewing gum, facesitting, squirting, abs-riding, overstimulation, Sukuna cums untouched, piss (Reader pees on Sukuna to humiliate him, and he likes it). Reader calls Sukuna slut, fucktoy and fuckdoll. Unhealthy relationship dynamics. Reader and Sukuna don't talk about limits or safe words. Sukuna is ok with everything Reader does to him, but please be aware that this isn't the way a sub/dom relationship is supposed to be in real life. I just wanted things to be a bit fucked up in this story ;) Divider @/benkeibear
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Sukuna is bored. So fucking bored. Bored with college in general, bored of the parties that are always the same, bored of the drugs that don't give him the kick he craves anymore. Even sex is boring nowadays. He sighs as his gaze brushes over the girl kneeling between his spread legs. He didn't bother asking for her name. He thinks she might be in his history course. But it doesn't matter. Nothing matters.
He doesn't even bother to hide from view, letting her suck him off in the back of the dimly lit living room on some ratty couch, while a few meters away, people are dancing and drinking and singing along to songs that Sukuna hates. She is eager, bopping her mouth on his dick enthusiastically, humming around him, and hollowing her cheeks like a champ. But he feels nothing at all. He isn't even sure he can cum tonight. It's like he is numb to everything. The nameless girl moans around his dick, and Sukuna grabs his phone to send his brother a message.
Where are you, brat? I want to leave.
He doesn't get a reply and instead checks his group chats and e-mails while the girl between his legs slurps loudly on his tip. Sukuna huffs in annoyance and lets his bored gaze travel through the room. It lands on a girl in a red t-shirt who is looking in his direction. You are sipping your drink casually while you unashamedly watch him getting his dick sucked.
It makes him grin broadly. Finally, a little bit of entertainment. Maybe he will manage to cum just to give that little voyeur a good show. And afterward, he can take you to one of the bedrooms and fuck you. Or maybe do it right here on that couch, too.
He winks at you. A smile spreads over your face, but it's not the smile Sukuna usually sees on the faces of the girls he plans to fuck. It's the kind of smile he sees in the mirror. A smile that means trouble. His cock twitches, and he groans softly.
He doesn't break eye contact, and neither do you. Sukuna raises an eyebrow challengingly, smirking at you, daring you to come over while he gets his dick sucked. His stomach flips when you really start walking towards him.
Sukuna's pulse accelerates when you stop right next to him. You let your gaze travel from his face down to his cock, watching it bop in and out of that other girl's mouth. You chuckle. It's not a nice sound.
"Aww, do you have problems cumming, Sukuna? Is your dick not working?"
For a stunned second, Sukuna just blinks at you, mouth hanging open. The resident bad boy rendered speechless for the first time in his life. And then he throws his head back and laughs, and simultaneously, he feels his balls tighten.
"If you get on all fours, I will show you just how good my dick works, sweetheart."
You roll your eyes and cross your arms in front of your breasts, looking at him with a bored and unimpressed expression.
"What makes you think I would let you get anywhere near me with that dick of yours. I don't want dirty, good-for-nothing sluts like you."
"What did you just call me?"
But his response lacks the bite. Instead, he sounds breathless, and his hand tightens on the couch as his cock twitches in the other girl's mouth. Fuck, it feels so good all of a sudden.
You smile that dangerous smile again and lean closer, your flowery perfume filling Sukuna's nose, and you repeat your words to him, slowly, overly accentuated as if he is stupid,
"Dirty. Good-for-nothing. Slut."
A raw groan spills from Sukuna's throat, and his hips buck off the couch, making the girl between his legs choke on his cock, as he nuts so hard into her mouth that she's spluttering his cum everywhere.
He stares wide-eyed at your smug face as the gears in his mind shift at lightspeed. What the fuck just happened?
The girl between his legs climbs onto his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck, and tries to kiss him, but Sukuna turns his face to the side, looking at you instead,
"Who do you think you are to talk to me like that?"
"Why? Enjoyed it too much, and now you are scared of how your body betrayed you, little slut?"
You laugh and turn around, walking away while you lift a hand in a mocking little wave, and Sukuna stares after you with his mind whirling and his cock still throbbing.
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He wakes up the next morning with a strange feeling in his gut. Something is different.
And after a moment, he realizes what it is when the memories from last night come back, and his eyes widen, and a whispered curse falls from his lips. The encounter with you replays in his mind just like it did countless times before he managed to fall asleep last night. Your cruel smile and the sadistic glint in your eyes. The way his body reacted to it.
He is so used to everyone cowering before him. So used to everyone submitting to him so willingly. All those countless girls throwing themselves at him, begging him to please let them suck his dick, obeying his every command, asking him if they can please call him daddy during fucking.
He never met any resistance. He never met any challenge. One look from him and the girls were practically on their backs with their legs spread like some animal in heat.
No one ever talked to him the way you did. Or looked at him that way. As if he is worthless trash in your eyes. Your words resonate in his brain. "You dirty, good-for-nothing slut."
Fuck! It turns him on. It makes him achingly hard even now. He turns onto his back and shoves a hand into his pants. He jerks off so furiously that his wrist hurts, making a huge mess all over himself when he cums to the thought of you calling him a useless brat.
Sukuna isn't the same man he was 24 hours ago.
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He totally doesn't look for you on campus on Monday morning. It is totally a coincidence that he slides up to you when you pull out a package of strawberry bubble gum from the vending machine. It's definitely not like he followed you around like a puppy for a whole hour until he finally got his shit together and decided to approach you.
"Strawberry flavor, huh? Wouldn't have thought that a foul person like you would pick such a sweet flavor."
You eye him lazily, eyes never leaving his as you tear open the packaging and put one of the pastel pink bubble gums into your mouth before you grace him with a reply.
"Oh, shut up. An attitude like that doesn't fit a pretty boy like you. Learn to behave, and then we can talk again."
Sukuna feels his lips lift in his trademark smirk as that weird, exhilarating sensation fills his veins again. He is enjoying himself far too much. He braces himself against the vending machine, his large hands on both sides of your face, caging you in, towering over you, while he smirks down at you.
But you don't seem intimidated at all by his height and muscular figure and the tattoos on his face. Instead, you smile at him and cock your head to the side, eyeing him expectantly as if you are waiting for him to do something.
He leans down, bringing his face closer to yours.
"Can I have a gum too? Please? See, I can behave very well."
His voice has dropped to his usual flirty, seductive tone, which he always uses on girls. The tone that always drives them crazy and makes them drop their panties faster than they can say his name.
You flutter your lashes exaggeratedly at him, smiling a sickeningly fake angelic smile as you open your mouth and pull out your gum.
"Ok, you can have one since you asked so politely. Open up, slut."
He laughs when you push the used gum to his lips, but Sukuna isn't one to back down, so he grabs your small hand, wraps his tattooed hand around your wrist, and opens his mouth. He licks your fingers, lets his tongue-piercing glide over your fingertips, and sucks the used bubble gum into his mouth.
You gaze deeply into his eyes, looking amused.
"You didn't even say thank you, Sukuna. You are still such a useless and rude brat."
You turn on your heel and leave him standing there like some rejected loser, and he chews the gum that tastes like strawberry and your spit and feels his cock twitch against his sweatpants.
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Sukuna sees you again on Saturday at another party. Two girls danced with him and asked him if he wanted to fuck them both upstairs in one of the bedrooms, but he turned them down, not even able to grasp why.
Until he walks into the kitchen and sees you. And suddenly, things fall into place.
Why bother with those random girls when the one he really wants is you? You are the only one who poses a challenge. The only one who makes his skin tingle with excitement. The only one who makes him feel like he is still alive and not some fucking ghost.
He leans against the fridge and watches you while he lights a cigarette. He smokes it in silence, just smirking at you and hoping you will come over and call him a slut again. Or any other degrading name you can think of. Sukuna isn't picky.
You walk over to him, a few drags into his cigarette, and stop in front of him, so close that he can smell your sweet perfume again. And you smile that smile that isn't sweet at all as you reach up and take the cigarette from Sukuna's lips. Your eyes never leave his as you bring his half-smoked cigarette to your mouth, wrapping your lips with the red lipstick around the filter right where Sukuna's lips were a moment ago, and the sight is so sexy to him that Sukuna has to bite his lip not to moan.
You take a deep drag, and your eyes close for a moment as the nicotine fills your senses before they open again to gaze up at Sukuna through your long lashes, grinning as you slowly blow the smoke right into Sukuna's face.
He laughs, pushing himself off the fridge, stepping closer to you, so close that his hips brush against you,
"You know what that means, right princess? Blowing smoke in someone's face?"
"Who doesn't know that?"
You roll your eyes and look at him as if he is stupid, and he can't help but place his large hands on your waist and drawl in his best bedroom voice,
"So, you admit you want to fuck me?"
You smirk back at him as you push his hands off your waist, sounding dismissive when you shrug and say,
"You have a pretty face and a good body. And I am horny right now. So why not? And you are probably a good fuck, with all that practice you had."
"What makes you so sure I want to fuck you?"
"Oh, don't be silly. You won't say no. A slut like you never does. Everyone knows you are easy."
Sukuna doesn't bother telling you that he just turned down two hot chicks half an hour ago. He lets you grab his hand and pull him along, and he follows you with a broad smirk on his tattooed face.
His cock is already pressing against his jeans when his crotch brushes over your ass when you pull him up the stairs. His mind is hazy, thoughts clouded over by lust, finally feeling that sweet, exciting buzzing again that he missed so much.
You pull him into one of the bedrooms, yank off his t-shirt, and push him onto the bed. Or you try to. You push against his broad chest, not able to move him an inch, but he plays along and lets himself fall onto the bed, looking up at you with heavy-lidded maroon eyes and his throbbing erection leaking pre-cum into his pants like some pathetic little virgin before his first fuck.
Sukuna licks his lips when he watches you reach under your skirt and take off your panties. That's the only thing you take off before you join him on the bed, straddling his thighs, making him smirk at you like the devil that he is,
"So eager to get my cock inside you that you can't even be bothered to get naked, princess?"
"Shut up, slut. Good boys don't talk unless I allow it."
Your little hands are on his belt, opening it, unbuttoning his jeans, and pulling down the zipper, making Sukuna's hips twitch when your hand rubs over his boxer-clad erection. He knows he is acting pathetic right now, cock so eager, already staining the fabric of his boxer briefs with a ridiculously huge amount of pre-cum. But fuck it, he is finally turned on again, finally excited to fuck again after all those months of feeling bored.
He pushes his hard cock against your hand, but you pull away again, smiling that devilish smile at him as you crawl on top of him.
Sukuna laughs breathlessly when you hover above his face, letting him know what you want from him. His large hands reach out to run slowly up the back of your thighs before they cup your ass cheeks, and he pulls you down onto his face.
He groans when your hot wet pussy settles on his tattooed face. Fuck, he always heard his brother go on and on about how hot he finds it when a girl sits on his face with a skirt and no panties. Sukuna had never found it so fascinating until now. Until it is you, and you tell him in that emotionless voice,
"Get to work, my little slut. If you make me squirt, you will get a reward."
He turns his face and moans against your inner thigh, leaving a kiss there,
"And what will my reward be?"
"I'll allow you to cum."
Allow him to cum?
Fuck. The words alone make Sukuna throb in his boxer briefs, another pearl of pre-cum leaking out of him.
"Then stop acting like a squeamish virgin and sit on my face for real."
"I told you to shut up, brat."
"Then shut me up with your pussy."
Sukuna grabs your ass cheeks tightly and pulls you down further, making you sit on his face for real. He isn't just a good fuck. He is the best fuck, and he will prove it to you!
He sucks your little swollen clit into his mouth and laughs when you gasp loudly. You grab his hair, tugging on it, making him groan as the slightly painful sensation goes directly to his throbbing cock. And he spoils your pussy like the slut that he is. Teases your clit with the stiff tip of his tongue and pushes the metal ball of his tongue piercing under the hood of your clit until you tremble and moan loudly.
He gets really into it, fucks you with his tongue and sucks savagely on your clit, eats you so good that it only takes a few minutes until you let out a high-pitched squeal and buck wildly against his face.
Hot, sticky liquid gushes over his lips, and you rock against him, voice breathless but still so stern,
"Open your eyes. Watch me cum all over your pretty face. Yeah, take it all, you little slut. Drink it all up."
Sukuna's eyes meet yours, and he moans, and his hips buck involuntarily, cock so desperate that he is rutting against thin air while pulsing pre into his boxer briefs.
He drinks you up, pushes his pierced tongue deeply into your twitching pussy, and licks it all up, basking in the way you mewl his name for a split second before you regain control and run a hand through his tousled pink hair, smoothing it down again,
"You are a good little fucktoy, Sukuna. Well done."
Sukuna's cock throbs at your words, and he blinks in surprise. Ok, so it's not just degradation that gets him excited, but also praise? Well, he is so fucked. So thoroughly fucked, and he loves every second of it!
You climb off his face, kneeling on the bed beside him, and let your small hands trail down Sukuna's defined pecs and his taut abs, following his tattoos down to the hem of his boxer briefs.
"You have such a nice body, Sukuna. The perfect little fucktoy. And what about that pretty cock? Is he perfect too, hm?"
A breathy gasp falls from his lips when you run a single finger over the thick bulge in his boxer briefs, slowly running up and down his whole throbbing length. Just a light, teasing touch, but it makes his vision blurry and pulls a desperate-sounding whine from his mouth.
It's so fucking humiliating. He's making such pathetic noises. But he simply can't bring himself to care. Not when he finally feels alive again when he is with you. His low voice is thick with need when he whispers,
"You said you would make me cum."
"Uh uh, I didn't say I would make you cum, sweetheart. I said I will allow you to cum. Let's see how things will go. Let's see how excited my little fucktoy will get. Don't forget what you are here for, Sukuna, baby. You are in this bed to serve me."
"Fuck..."
It takes all of Sukuna's willpower to not shove a hand into his boxer briefs and relieve that fucking pressure.
You straddle him again, sit on his abs this time, rubbing yourself on them, making him gasp when he feels how wet and hot your pussy is and how you spread your cream all over him. It's sexy. Nasty, just as he likes it.
Sukuna can see your face now, and it makes his chest fill with elation when he sees the fucked out expression on your face as you slide over his firm abs, rubbing your little clit against his hard muscles, your eyes closing and lips hanging open dumbly when you moan so sweetly and twitch on his stomach, reaching another orgasm on him.
He could sneak a hand behind you, could jack off behind your back, but he doesn't do it. He wants to be your good little toy.
You don't stop but keep rutting against him, your fingernails digging into the swell of Sukuna's pecs, leaving their crescent-moon-shaped marks there as you abuse your puffy clit further on his abs.
And Sukuna grabs your hips and helps you ride his abs, grinning as he hears your harsh breathing and feels you starting to tense up again. Another loud squeal tumbles out of your mouth, and Sukuna is about to taunt you for being so horny for him that you cum on him three times in a row when he feels something hot and wet on his abs, much more than during your other two orgasms.
You hum and grind against him as more wetness flows out of you and onto Sukuna's stomach, warm and sweet-smelling, and Sukuna's gaze snaps to yours in understanding.
You laugh and rub yourself against him, smiling that devilish smile as you pee on him. And he can't hold back the loud moan falling from his lips, can't stop his cock from twitching, almost cumming in his boxer briefs.
"You like that, you fucking pervert? Yeah, Sukuna? You like getting peed on? Well, I have more for you, my nasty boy."
You slide off him, hands grabbing his boxer briefs and pulling them down, finally freeing his aching cock. Sukuna groans when it springs up, bouncing lightly, rock-hard, pre-cum dripping down from it onto his abs.
You throw one leg over his thighs, kneeling over his stiff cock, and then more piss rains down from your hot cunt and onto Sukuna's cock.
And Sukuna moans and curses loudly as his back arches off the bed, and he cums all over himself, untouched, shooting hot ropes of cum out of his tip, all over his abs, and over your cunt that's hovering above him.
His vision goes black for a moment, and his breath comes out in loud, harsh huffs, his whole body shaking from the intensity of his orgasm. He thinks he never came so hard in his life.
You laugh and finally sit down on Sukuna's twitching cock, letting it glide between your wet folds, making him buck against you. But you don't let him push inside you. You just rub your wet cunt slowly over his spent length, watching with an amused smile as you milk every last spurt of cum out of Sukuna while you let more pee trickle over his cock, mixing his cum with your piss.
Sukuna's heart is beating so fast that he feels lightheaded. And the overstimulation makes him sob, makes his oversensitive cock ache and twitch, but oh, how he craves this sweet pain. He lets his head fall back on the pillow, letting more low moans spill from his lips, eyes closing as he pushes his slowly softening cock between your pussy lips, whimpering softly anytime that delicious pain pulses in his length.
He doesn't know how long it takes before you stop moving on him and slip off his lap. But he sighs when the sticky heat of your cunt leaves his cock.
The bed creaks as you crawl up to him to press a gentle kiss to his cheek, whispering in his ear,
"You are such a mess, Sukuna. Such a cute mess for me. I'm excited to see what else you can give me, my little fuckdoll."
You leave him lying there on top of the blanket, his cock pulsing hotly from the overstimulation, mind hazy with post-coital bliss, chest heaving with heavy breaths, skin sticky from his cum, and your squirt and pee.
It's disgusting, and he should feel embarrassed, but he can't help but moan softly as a small smile creeps over his face. Sukuna feels satisfied like he hasn't felt in months. He hopes you will use him again as your personal fucktoy very soon.
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FUCKTOY SUKUNA, I WANT YOU 💗💗 I wrote the first draft of this story a while ago and then thought I wouldn't dare publish it because it's too nasty, but I changed my mind, lol. I hope it was ok and that my fellow sub!Sukuna enjoyers accept this treat ;)
There will be a second part!! The story got too long, and there would have been too many sex scenes, so I decided to split it.
Thank you so much for reading 💗 Reblogs and comments would be very sweet!
HERE IS PART 02
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purplethespian · 3 months ago
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The Rights of Disabled Americans Are Under Attack
We need to take action as soon as we can! Texas v. Becerra is an attack on disabled people and needs to be stopped.
What's happening? In the court case Texas v. Becerra, 17 states are suing the US government and because they are unhappy with additions made to Section 504 under the Biden Administration. They are asking the Justice Department to rule Section 504 unconstitutional!
What is Section 504? Section 504 is an extremely important law passed in the 1970s that protects disabled Americans from discrimination. If an entity, such as a school or hospital, receives money from the US government, it cannot discriminate against disabled people without losing that money.
Why are they asking for it to be ruled unconstitutional? In May of 2024, the Deparment of Health and Human Services issued updated guidelines for Section 504 to be more comprehensive and more specific about types of prohibited discriminatory actions against disabled people. Among these updated guidelines is an introduction that says (among many other things) that depending on the context, gender dysphoria could be a disability protected by Section 504. Naturally, because Republicans love to attack trans people, the Attorneys General of the 17 states, led by Ken Paxton of Texas, have launched a lawsuit about it.
Which states are part of the lawsuit? The 17 states are Alaska, Alabama, Arkansas, Florida, Georgia, Indiana, Iowa, Kansas, Louisiana, Missouri, Montana, Nebraska, South Carolina, South Dakota, Texas, Utah, and West Virginia.
What can I do to help? The most important thing to do is to spread awareness about this. Very few people outside of the disabled community are talking about this case, which is terrifying because without Section 504, disabled people will lose part of what protects us from discrimination. If you are not disabled, please talk about this!
Another thing that you can do to help is to contact the Attorney General of your state and ask them to take action! If you live in one of the states involved with the lawsuit, you can call the office of your Attorney General and ask them to withdraw from the lawsuit. If you live in a state not involved, you can contact your state's AG and ask them to file papers with the court in support of Section 504.
You might also want to contact your representatives in Congress to tell them about the court case and ask them to take action to protect their disabled constituents. Your Senators and Representatives may be able to contact the AG of your state or take other action in support of Section 504. Here is a sample phone script to get you started:
"Hi, my name is [Name] and I am one of your constituents living in [City/Town Name]. My address is [address] (this ensures that your message/phone call will be counted). I am calling today to ask you to take action to support Section 504 and protect the rights of disabled residents of [State]. The court case Texas v. Becerra is trying to make Section 504 unconstitutional, which would leave millions of Americans, including those in our state, vulnerable to discrimination. Please contact [Attorney General] and ask [him/her] to [withdraw from this case/file papers for this case in support of Section 504]. [You may want to talk about how Section 504 is relevant to your life either as a disabled person or as someone who cares about disabled people and/or civil rights generally.] Thank you for your attention."
I will also be contacting my representatives for my state's government and asking them to commit to protecting the rights of disabled people in my state, regardless of the outcome of Texas v. Becerra. Here is the script I will be using:
"Hi, my name is [Name] and I am one of your constituents living in [City/Town Name]. My address is [address] (this ensures that your message/phone call will be counted). As you may be aware, 17 states (including our own) have filed a lawsuit against the federal government in a case called Texas v. Becerra, which if successful would make Section 504 of the Rehabilitation Act unconstitutional. This would make millions of Americans, including those in our great state, vulnerable to discrimination. I am calling today to ask you to commit to protecting the rights of disabled [state residents], regardless of the outcome of this court case. I hope that you will support or introduce state legislation that protects disabled [state residents] from discrimination and other forms of harm. [You may want to talk about your experience as a disabled person or someone who cares about disabled people.] Thank you for your attention and for your work as a legislator."
Where can I find more information about this case and about actions I can take? DREDF, the Disability Rights Education & Defense Fund, has a page on their website talking all about this case and what you can do to help. They have sample scripts for contacting your state's Attorney General, as well as contact information for the AGs in all 50 states. They also held a community briefing recently where they talked about the changes to Section 504 that were introduced by the Biden Administration, what is happening with the court case, and what community members can do. The webinar recording is about 45 minutes long and can be found here.
Additionally, this website has information about the percentage of each state's population that is disabled, as well as other info. You may want to include that information when calling your various representatives.
The court will begin considering all information about the case on Tuesday, February 25th, 2025. This means that we need to act fast!
If we all come together to protect Section 504, I firmly believe that we can be successful. Let's do this!
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caitlinsnicket · 1 year ago
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Hello! For your 3k celebration (congrats!!!), can I request Venom with the prompt size kink? Thank you and congrats again ✨
ko-fi | masterlist
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"i don't think it's gonna fit, venom." you mumble from between the pillows, your head buried there so your ass could be higher in the air. 
venom is trying to get his cock inside of you, but despite how wet and slick you are, it doesnt seem to fit. he thinks its because you're not wet enough, so he keeps eating you out, spreading your juices and his spit everywhere, to the point where you're shivering and your eyes are blurry.
"i just need to get you wetter, morsel" and his tongue slithers its way out of his mouth. "i wanna see you filled up with me, just like this" and you feel more of your juices gushing out of you as the soft muscle enters you once again and messes you up with his saliva.
both of you are perfectly aware that he could simply shrink his length to make it fit easier, maybe even change his shape to something different, but he was extremely aware of how horny you got when you realized he was just too big for you. and as a consequence, along with his infinite stubbornness, resulted in about an hour of overstimulation as he used his deliciously warm tongue on you over and over again.
"let's try again now," he says matter-of-factly, his saliva dripping on the bed, leaving you a mess and uncomfortably empty. he sets you down again, his frame overshadowing you completely, and as he set his large hand on your head (holding it fully as if it was nothing) and props up your hips just a little bit, the head of his cock slipped across your cunt, your swollen clit throbbing at the contact.
"please, venom, just... put it in" you hide your face again, eyes rolling back as he finally manages to sink the tip of his length inside your oversensitive cunt. you feel the stretch and the pressure, your body fighting to accommodate his size despite how wet you are. 
he takes his time easing into you, and you can feel his shape change as he adjusts himself. the squelch that sounds through the room would leave you embarrassed in any other situation, but right now his presence fills you entirely, every part of you consumed by the sensation of him. it's too much and just enough, the stretch enough to hurt just the right amount to make you squeeze even tighter around him.
"there it is, pet. nice and tight" he mumbles near your head, his voice raspy and wobbly. he's affected by you the same amount you're affected by him. his hand digs in the fat of your hips, and your folds stick to his cock, messing him up.
you can feel something similar to a tentacle start fondling with your nipples, and sure enough, when your turn your head to look, he's created another limb just to stimulate you further. his mouth looks huge and his tongue is still out, licking your skin from time to time.
you feel like no more than a tiny toy in his hand, and shivers run down your spine. it's perfect.
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grotesquevi · 9 days ago
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‎‎‎‎‎ㅤㅤ ‎‎‎‎‎ ㅤㅤ ‎‎‎‎‎ㅤㅤTHE WAVES SUCK YOU IN, THEN YOU DROWN.
18+ mdni, men dni, this is based on a previous request from my r.i.p blog @vicorices, use of strap-on, dirty talk, fingering, soft!dom vi, praising, tight + bottom afab reader, vi is folded tbh — i tried this to be kind and nice, so it is mostly? but i'm also a dirty slut at the same time so it gets tiny bit rougher by the end my bad, collage au, formal fuckgirl!vi now on a leash. comments, reblogs and likes are loved literally tell me your thoughts talk to me,,
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side notes — if you recognize this it may be because my previous account got deleted out of nowhere, i'm trying to get all my work back up again cause of tumblr's dumb ass, check out my masterlists to help me out fic hunting! wc: 1.6k
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“shh— it’s okay,” the pleasant sound of her voice sends shivers down your spine as she presses soft kisses in your naked shoulder, breathing in the scent of your skin. the hoop of her nose piercing dragging across the moles she had learned by memory, the marks you utterly hate yet she finds so fucking attractive. “it's okay sweetheart, i got you.”
patience.
it's a struggle since she's so bad at it. trying her best cause she really really likes you, so indulging to your needs every time. it’s a big issue to restrain herself from taking you just the way she wants to, preparing your pretty pink hole to have her so deep inside, you won’t even notice where you begin and she ends, where limits finally erase and you’re melting in her embrace.
her fingers curl inside, and the sound you make tickles a part of her brain, that sultry whine, the dryness of your voice as she pushes and pushes until she's knuckles deep and she's so fucking close to you she can smell the lavender in your shampoo, the taste of your sweat in her tongue — "are you okay? talk to me baby."
she's so kind even when she's from mere seconds to lose it. gentle as she keeps you pressed against her bare torso "yes-yes, i'm good" you let your girlfriend know, burying your head against the pillows — "keep stretching me out vi, please."
she's such a sucker for it. when you start talking so bluntly about your needs and she stays silent for a bit, letting the weight of your words sink in her skull for a second. you clench around her digits and she’s so happy to give you just what you asked for, let her ring and middle finger rub against that spot she's well aware you're fond of by now, the same that makes you arch your back pressing your ass against the strap.
"that's it suck me in," it's such a sight vi could cum by just looking, giving yourself to her like a damn gift. "stretching out so good for my cock baby, fuck- you're doing so well for me."
she knows what she's doing. towering over you, talking against your ear as she finger fucks you into plain madness. arousal gathers on the palm of her hand and you roll your hips against vi's fingers, mumbling about how good she feels already, how you're sure you can take her, all pink cheeks and heavy breathing making her mind go blank.
violet’s fingers withdraw and you gasp at the hollow in your insides, spreading yourself wider to her view, to call her in, make her fuck you again until you're not sure about your own name: stop being unfair. yet, despite all annoyance, you cannot find time to complain when she’s grabbing your leg up in her arm, angling you to her liking.
obscene.
"you're always so sensitive, fucking hell-" vi curses under her breath, hips rocking against you now as she holds the base of the purple cock to rub it against your folds, teasing your entrance in a steady pace, wet, sloppy kisses being etched in the skin of your back almost in a soothing way. "let me fuck you," she asks you soon after, muscles flexing as she keeps you still, pushing the strap against your cunt — "gonna be gentle baby i promise, 'gonna be whatever you need me to be."
"vi-" you breathe out, and she's holding you at this point cause shit, you're a fucking mess, barely saying more than two-word sentences.
"let me fuck you, please" the pink haired begs once again. "you put on this nice set for me, took my fingers s'good. let me make you cum in my cock."
now, she's not usually right, but this time? vi hits the spot cause you did buy a shameful new set of underwear, you did wear it even when you're a complaining bitch always whining about being so tight, about your constant struggle to take her, how she has to use you like a damn toy if you wanted to be fucked until you got a noise complain, stretched out slowly.
when you nod however, it's like she's granted permission to rule the world.
"i got you pretty girl," vi says, leaving a soft kiss over your temple as her fingers take the already lubricated strap to your slippery entrance, forcing just the tip in — the intrusion however, makes your body tense as her lips leave a path of soothing kisses in your shoulders, breathing right next to you, holding you as close as possible — "get used to me baby, m'not moving."
and yes she's such a sucker for it. for the way your legs shake in her arm cause you lose control of them so quickly, pushing her hips slightly forwards again, the loud sound you make as she sinks in just enough. delicious. you make room for her, the skin of your back pressing just right against her chest, the friction of your spasms hitting in vi’s pierced nipples.
it’s so fucking good. she never gets over it, never find it boring — you’re making such an effort in taking her deeper she has to praise you cause you’re halfway through it now and vi loves to see that smile on your face, the fact you’re having a great time with her, your greedy hole sucking her cock in, relaxed now, insanely pliable.
“tell me when it feels good,” she says, looking down at you through half lidded eyes, an explanation of why her words are slurring together in the air as she talks you through it. “can you do that? so i can fuck you properly.”
patience.
violet didn’t even think about cockwarming until she has to stay there every time, filling your tight little cunt over and over again. she thrives now on the idea of keeping you full, how you must be clenching round the strap as you struggle to get used to the size of it.
“want me to stop?” she's so filthy by that point, looking down to notice how the strap is now covered by your arousal, lubricating down to the fabric of the harness on her hips. in all reality, she's asking so she can get an answer from you, hear how fucked she has you by now by the tone of your voice.
"no," you reply. "no, i can take it vi, please- need you inside."
god she’s so fucking patient in these times she should get a prize, sinking in painfully slow until there’s no room for more and she’s fully inside, balls hitting on your clit, teeth bitting to leave a mark in your shoulder you’re totally unaware of: patience.
"you look so pretty full of me," she whispers, and it's so intimate, the lack of space between you both, the sweat that makes your skin glow under the warm lights of your dorm — she angles your face up to kiss you, swallowing your whimpers as she moves beneath you, a gentle pace at first to see how'd you react. "that's my girl. breathe."
it only takes you a couple of minutes, overly enjoying her gentle touch, her way of taking care of you; soft bites in your neck, kisses over your shoulders, how her arms surround you as they hugged you, cause after that vi's moving faster, sloppier cause she's sure she's damaged at that point, malfunctioning at her worst.
she picks up her pace relentless, and your moans mixes well with her own, that need that pours on her stomach making vi's vision cloudy as her hips pistons until you can hear that clap filling each space of the room. her fingers rub against your clit in tight circles, matching her intense movements cause fuck — it's almost lame to admit she's so sensitive already it only takes friction to make her cum and squeeze around nothing but the view she has of you melting in her.
you shake as you cum, arousal gushing out even when she's still plunged deep in you, coating your tights as she keeps you spread, fucking you through it only to get you to that point of damn of insanity.
"feel better?" she asks after, and it's an understatement that makes you blush, almost laughing as you began to remember how to fucking breathe at that point — "looks like you enjoyed yourself, huh?"
"shut up," it's useless even try to defend you, cause you're leaning into her seeking for her warmth, even when she probably smells funny and is sticky. "i did in fact. thank you vi."
you're so fucking cute it's like a dagger to the chest to take, and it's weird cause vi craves this attention, how your heart beats right against her, to be close to you at the end of the day, not questioning anything as your body just fits against hers. silent and shared trust.
even when she might suck a little by saying it she's damn good at showing you at least, madly good when her hand slips against your neck and she's suddenly gripping it tightly, hips moving only to sink in deeper inside your cunt — "you're so open already, can you feel that? think m'gonna have to fuck you again."
and you giggle looking up to her like a fucking deadly sin, asking for more like a greedy, greedy slut, so deep down vi knows it, but it's really late to avoid it when she realizes she carries you like a tattoo right under the ink already on her cheek, squeezing your neck, pushing you against the mattress this time cause you can take it now.
all the pleasure always comes in cherry waves, you dig it now more than ever.
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em-ontv · 8 months ago
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Get a room.
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Pairing: Dean Winchester x lover!fem!reader
Summary: After a particularly bad hunt, you were patching Dean up in the motel room, but he said he needed to be healed up the right way.
Content: fluff(?), kisses, Sam kind of being the third-wheel, no use of y/n, mentions of injury
English isn’t my first language, mistakes should be present, sorry!
Word count: 698
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You and Dean had just stumbled back to the bunker after a long, exhausting hunt. It was one of those hunts where everything that could go wrong, did. Dean had taken a hit from some nasty vamp, even after you told him to be careful, but Dean? Nah, that word wasn't in his vocabulary. And while he made no big deal of the gash, you knew it was serious enough to need a little patching up.
He was sitting on the edge of the bed, shirt off, grimacing slightly as you cleaned up the deep cut on his shoulder.
"Ow—! Careful," Dean grimaced, shooting you a mocking glare. "You trying to finish me off, sweetheart?"
"Quit being a baby," you shook your head. "You're lucky this didn't go deeper."
“I’m always lucky,” Dean responded, a smirk spreading across his face despite his slight wince when you dabbed the cloth on his wound again.
"Uh-huh. I should just leave you to bleed out next time, it would save me a whole lot of trouble." you muttered, beginning to bandage him up, nodding in approval of your work once you secured it.
Dean shifted, sighed, then flashed you a lopsided grin. "I think you missed a step, sweetheart."
"What step?" you raised an eyebrow, confused.
“For me to fully heal… there’s only one thing that’ll work.”
“What?" you almost rolled your eyes. "Lemme guess, whiskey and pie?”
He grinned wider. “Nope. Kisses. Specifically, from you. On my face. All over. Only way this wound’s gonna close up right.”
You snorted. “Right. Because that's definitely how medical science works.”
Dean winced dramatically. “You don’t believe me? It’s a foolproof healing method. I swear it.”
"C'mon, don't leave me hanging here—this is life or death." He added for good measure, tapping a finger to his cheek.
Despite yourself, you laughed. “You are so full of it, Winchester.”
“One kiss. Or like… fifty. But who's counting?” He shrugged.
You sighed, fully aware you were playing into his game but too tired to fight it. You leaned down and pressed a light kiss to his cheek, where his finger tapped relentlessly until you gave in.
“There you go,” Dean said, clearly pleased. “But you missed a spot—” He pointed to another area, so you kissed it too. “And there—” Another kiss. “And the forehead—” You kissed his forehead. “And—”
“Okay, Dean, that’s enough."
"Not enough. I can still feel the pain." He let out an over-the-top groan.
You sighed in exasperation, considering to either just punch him across the face or keep giving into him—you chose the latter.
Just as you were placing more kisses onto his face—the grin on his lips made him look like a love-drunk idiot—the door swung open.
Sam walked in with some takeout bags, he froze in the doorway, eyes widening as he took in the scene: you, practically sitting on Dean’s lap, showering his face with kisses, while Dean looked way too proud of himself.
“What did I just walk into?” Sam groaned, immediately making a beeline to the table to avoid getting another glance at the two of you.
"Hey, it's a part of the healing process, Sammy." Dean smirked, looking over to his brother.
Sam blinked, then made a face like he just swallowed something sour. “Gross. Seriously, guys, get a room.”
“We’re technically in a room, you know.” you said, getting off of Dean who seemed too reluctant to let you go.
"A room that you walked into." Dean added, a hint of sarcasm in his voice.
Sam set the food down, still shaking his head in disbelief. "Yeah, well, next time, maybe give me a warning first so I know not to come in while you guys are having a whole smooch-fest."
"You're just jealous."
"You two are impossible."
"Buzzkill."
Sam just groaned in annoyance again, starting to unpack the food.
You couldn't help but let out a soft laugh, feeling a bit guilty—though not that guilty. You glanced at Dean, who tugged on your hand with a happy expression.
"Next time, we're giving you painkillers." you said, lifting your hand up and running your finger through his hair.
"Not a chance." Dean smiled.
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finchandthebard · 4 months ago
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The "tiktok ban" should scare you and here's why.
Rant made by an autistic, history-loving, chronically online American tiktok cosplayer. Please let me know if I've gotten anything wrong and I will edit the post.
Reblog to spread awareness!
This is not just about Tiktok, and it's not about national security. The Tiktok ban is wrapped up in the "Protecting Americans from Foreign Adversary Controlled Applications Act" which has the ability to ban any foreign website or app that the United States government sees as a threat to their "democracy." Not only that, but if the gov't didn't want China to gather data, then they would ban things like Shein and Temu (the latter which they advertised during the Super Bowl), which collect similar data that Tiktok does. If they wanted to prevent our data being stolen in general, they would ban companies like Meta, which monetarily supports the Tiktok ban and had to change their name because "Facebook" was associated with the largest data leak in history.
The documentations of the Tiktok court interrogations prove how incompetent our government is. Repeatedly asking the TikTok CEO Mr. Chew if he's Chinese while he repeatedly assures them he's Singaporean. The officials being concerned that they can't find Singapore on a map. The officials then being confused why the app would be able to have access to their wifi because it needs wifi to load.
The possibility of the US buying Tiktok exposes a greater issue in America: monopolies. The Sherman Antitrust Act was passed in 1890 that restricted the activities of large companies known as monopolies, which started out as small companies and would either buy other companies or buy the factories which produced all their materials. This eliminated competition in the market and gave the monopolies almost full control of quality and prices of items, and it was considered very anti-American at the time. Since the US already has multiple major social medias, including Facebook (Meta), Instagram (Meta), Threads (Meta), X (formerly Twitter), Snapchat, and Reddit, adding Tiktok would mean that nobody could compete with the US in the social media market. This makes them a monopoly, and it's incredibly dangerous.
Banning Tiktok breaks several American trademarks. A) the Republicans banning Tiktok are very concerned about their second amendment right to own guns, but they seem to not care about the first amendment right to freedom of speech and press, which Tiktok delivers. Of course there are app guidelines, but for the most part you have fairly uncensored political and ethical commentary like no other social media. B) the only other countries that have banned Tiktok are either heavily demonized by America or are direct targets for American propaganda (ex. China), which really doesn't make the ban look good. C) banning a social media for the purpose of censorship is a trademark of communism, which Americans are INCREDIBLY wary of.
Your country may follow in suit. Because of America's influence as a global superpower and an ally to many other major powers, America banning Tiktok would likely lead to a domino effect in other countries.
The rich get richer. There is a concept called social darwinism, in which it is the rich's beliefs that the poor must fend for themselves without the help of the government in order to make a living - "survival of the fittest." Tiktok contributed around $14.7 billion USD in 2023 and $24.2 billion in 2024, and it supports around 224,000 jobs [source]. The actual Tiktok website says in 2023, they contributed $15 billion USD in revenue and supported 7 million US businesses [source]. Without these jobs, there could be in increase in homelessness, debt, and sickness due to withdrawals (if you're incredibly addicted to Tiktok) and lack of quick dopamine hits (due to the rapidfire nature of the algorithm).
Remember that the president is not your friend !! Many of the political figures rallying to support Tiktok right now, such as President Biden, initially voted for the ban. President Biden is likely supporting now so that Trump won't get credit for it, and future President Trump is likely doing it for brownie points among younger generations.
The Xiaohongshu migration exposed the American government and its lies. The stories from American 'Tiktok refugees' about the questions from native Chinese on the Xiaohongshu / Rednote / Redbook app (considered the Chinese mixed of Pinterest, Instagram, and Facebook) posed a lot of conspiracies and realizations about the American government. The Chinese actually own their homes, they have lower food prices than we do, and they have a slim homelessness rate. Whether this is true or not, it has greatly influenced how we see ourselves in the grand scheme of the American oligarchy, and that is not something that can be suppressed with an app being banned.
Tiktok is not totally Chinese! The CEO is Singaporean, as I've already stated, and there are multiple headquarters in the US, with the main one being in Los Angeles.
In conclusion...
Whether Tiktok is banned or not, whether permanently or not, no matter who saves it or rallies against it, remember that it is harder to scare and control someone when they are in a group. And if you think this was interesting, I'd love it if you could reblog to show some support and inform your friends as well. <3
THIS IS NOT RIGHT VS LEFT❗️IT'S UP VS DOWN❗️
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screampied · 1 year ago
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Could you please PLEEASEEE do Sukuna with a overstimulation kink😭🩷
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₊˚﹕. how sukuna acts with an overstim kink.
warnings. fem! reader, overstim, reverse cowgirl, dirty talk, praise, cunnilingus, p*ssy spanking.
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sukuna wasn’t even aware he had a kink of overstim.
however, he realized the moment he easily stole multiple orgasms out of you, again, and again and again. all to a point where you’re an entire mess, stammering over your words. your back's pressed against his chest and he hums. “how’s it feel, princess?”
you moaned, feeling him stuff you full of inches. alas by this part, you weren't even riding him anymore. time stood still….and yet, so did your hips. he brings a soft kiss towards the very back of your neck and you’re just trembling, mind in an entire loop. “good, r-really really good...”
“ya want another kiss?” he snickers, beads of sweat racing down his thin eyebrows.
immensely, you nod, having to stop yourself from rolling your eyes backwards.
“pleaseee,” you’d whimper, and he lightly grabs you by the neck to pull you into a deep, passionate yet sloppy kiss. he tastes sweet, you shudder once you feel a rough hand of his slides down your back, toying with your skimpy bra strap. “sukuna,” you’d whine between kisses. a coy simper goes across the curse’s face as your cute frame jittered and trembled over him, still stuffed full. “again…make me cum again, please.”
“sensitive little girl. dunno if ya can handle much more,” he dumbs you down with just his tone. sukuna’s voice pitches into a low hence of mockery, causing you to soak ten times quicker and he chuckles. “but hm…okay, since you asked so nicely.”
you laid against his chest, and he’s got a soft gentle grip around your throat with another hand reaching between your legs.
“aw, such a whiney little thing,” he purrs.
he’s so incredibly hefty, the base of his fat cock, the hilt buried right inside of your cunt. it fit perfectly and you were so dizzy. “those weak legs of yours are gonna give out soon, careful princess.”
“k-kuna, please…” you’d babble, and he sits up before chuckling lowly against your ear. he’s so mean, prying your legs apart just a bit to bring a soft spank towards your pussy.
“what…? how do ya expect me to make you cum if you can barely ride me anymore?” he whispers, and he gently skims his fingers against your cunt. your body twitched and you felt everything rush against you at once. “hmpf. need need my help, huh?”
you sniffle out a, “y-yes.” and he smiles, sliding a hand down your waist to help guide your shaky hip movements. your legs could barely keep up, yet that’s when sukuna gets an idea.
“then get on your tummy, baby.”
shakily, you comply. repositioning yourself, you wonder what he was gonna do when you let off a soft squeak once he pulls your hips towards him before leaning down, licking a long stripe against your already throbbing pussy.
“y-you’re gonna eat me out—?” you’d mewl with a pout, definitely not expecting him to change so soon. you could barely get your staggering words out, and as he used two hands to spread your ass apart, he started up a slow tempo with his licks.
“you wanted another orgasm… ‘n this is the quickest way i know,” he murmurs, and you moan against the bed sheets once his nose prods against your slick folds. “is someone complainin'?”
you shudder, facing the opposite way before whining out a, “n-no.”
“good girl, ‘s what i thought. now relax ‘n let me eat.”
his voice was a pitched low and heavily raspy as he spoke against your pussy. your toes clenched in pleasure and your lips were just dumbly parted open. whenever sukuna eats…he’s so sloppy.
no remorse whatsoever. he’s lapping up his tongue against your slit that’s already starting to drench down his chin. he’s practically being smothering — your sheeny slick races down his chin and he has to take a few moments to swipe a tongue against his lips to savor the taste. you hear the salacious wet squelches escape from his lips and it only makes you throb ten times more.
“my sensitive baby,” he teases, flicking his tongue against your nub to hear you whimper out—you find your back slightly arching before you cling tightly onto the white silk bedsheets that was currently bawled up into your hands. “gonna give me one more, yeah? just one more princess.”
“k—kuna, ‘m gonna—”
“girl that ain’t a answer.” he grumbles, bringing another light spank towards your pussy before kissing it and you moaned. it felt so good, the way your legs trembled and your ears chimed and rang from the sweetened stimulation.
you whimper out a, “y-yes, yes.”
“there we go,” he praises, and you feel his tongue slide against your inner labia. you’re really sensitive there, and it’s like he knows just the right spots to run his tongue to make you squirm in rapture. “can your dumb pussy even give me another though? might be a problem, princess.”
“sukuna,” you whined, and he was toying with you, most likely to hear you whine and whine for it more. “i can—i can, please.”
his tongue licks around in soft circles and your eyes roamed everywhere, going back and rolling into the depths of your skull.
“if you say so,” he chortles, raising a brow. the bundle of nerves that stored inside your pussy had you spasming, it felt so good—you felt yourself starting to lose it. sukuna’s tongue was longly lengthy too, eagerly sucking and nibbling on the right spots just to feel you pulse. “mhm,” he’d groan, entirely face deep. “best meal i’ve had in a long while.”
once he drags out another orgasm from you, you’re unable to speak.
a whine leaves your throat and your eyebrows furrow in ecstasy. “f-fuckkk,” you’d spat, your entire body going limp.
he was so nasty, taking a brief second to spit on your clit before lapping it up with his tongue, the very tip and flat of his tongue to make sure you feel everything. “thank you, t-thank you.”
“what for?” he snickers, playfully taking a second to slurp all against your pussy, his fangs softly nibbling against your folds and you moan.
“don’t tell me you’re already tapping out, little one. think you could give me at least one more, huh?” and he playfully gives your pussy a caress before gently spanking it. “i trained my girl’s pussy well.”
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wrioluvr · 1 year ago
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『shhh, not so loud! make me. huh?』 slutty sub yandere x gentle himbo darling, male yandere x male reader
note: thank u all the support on pt 1 ♡♡ was thinking about a scenario where slutty yandere somehow manages to convince his darling to actually fuck him after a lot of begging... even tho reader is scared his large cock will break him apart <3 pt 1
cw: he/him pronouns for reader, mentions of reader's ex-boyfriends, loss of yandere's virginity, implied violence
nervous was the way you were feeling as you made your way to your boyfriend's house. the two of you had started dating a few weeks ago, when after you'd let him suck your dick, he broke down crying, admitted to how desperately he was in love with you, and pleaded on his knees for you to own him and treat him as your personal fucktoy. frantically, you quickly assured him you would treat him as an equal in the relationship, to his slight disappointment. of course, he was ecstatic that you'd agreed to be his boyfriend, but you were his god, how could he not worship such a kind being? in your eyes, despite his rather.... overly submissive behaviour, he was kinda cute, so why not give it a go? if only you knew how deep his obsession truly ran...
and with an progression in your relationship, came a progression in intimacy level as well. the previous day, he had gathered up the courage to ask you to top him, which is why you were making your way to his apartment now. the current fear you were feeling was not for yourself, but for him, you worried that he would hurt himself trying to bottom. you were aware you were bigger than most guys... you wondered how to tell him you weren't too sure about the whole anal thing after all.
but what you did not expect to see the moment you opened the door to his room, was him on his bed on all fours, ass up, using his index and middle finger to spread his tight pink hole towards you. he turned his head around at the sound of your arrival and looked back at you with lust-filled, half-lidded eyes, breathing heavily. "baby! thank god you're finally here... please fuck me already, i've been waiting for hourssss......." his words came out in a pitiful whine.
your eyes widen at his plea. "woah, okay, let's slow down." quickly, you make him sit up, much to his confusion. he was already ready, so why were you hesitant?
taking his hand and squeezing it gently, you tell him what's on your mind. "okay, uh... i'm not too sure if i want to fuck you right now..."
"wha- but- but why? you promised!"
"i know i did, but i'm worried for you. i know i'm kinda... big, so i don't want to make you bleed or anything..."
at your reasoning, he can't help but whine in frustration. don't you understand? he doesn't care about how much it hurts! he wants it to hurt! his one wish is for you to completely destroy him! usually he'd back down, since he doesn't want to make you uncomfortable with his desperation, but he decided to be a little selfish.
reaching over and fondling your crotch, he looked at you with a silent, horny plea in his eyes, then proceeded to sit in your lap and grind on your bulge sensually. he whimpered as your clothed dick got harder and prodded at his hole.
taken back by his sudden boldness, you let him straddle you. "hey... did you even listen to anything i said?"
"forgive me, darling. but i want this so bad. give it to me, pretty please?" he continues to roll his hips on your crotch, not sounding terribly sorry at all.
you sigh, realising you can't change his mind. "okay, just let me know if it hurts, and i'll stop immediately. alright?"
"mhm." but secretly, he'd moan in pleasure no matter how painful it was, relishing in it.
"at least let me prepare you first...?"
"i've been fingering myself for the past hour, you don't need to." he giggled, as he got back down on all fours on his bed, hoping you were proud of his forward thinking. "i want our first time to be special, so i'm fully prepared."
"wait... you're a virgin?" upon hearing your question, he turned his head back to look at you with an incredulous expression on his pretty face, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
"but of course, i've been saving myself for you. i don't want anyone else using me." he bit his lip, making sure you knew how much he valued you taking his virginity. he suddenly realised how he'd completely forgotten to ask (or stalk to find out) about your past relationships. "what about you, darling? are you a virgin?" secretly, he was hoping the answer would be yes, but deep down he knew you were far too desirable for that to be true.
"nah. i dated a few guys before, but they broke up with me because they said i was too dumb." you'd never really thought about it deeply, but saying it out loud made you realise that it was rather embarrassing...
"how the fuck could they say that? you're so perfect and kind... forget about them, darling... just focus on me. you won't need to think about those ungrateful whores ever again." his change in tone caught you off guard, grip tightening around your arm. this was the first time he'd ever sounded genuinely pissed off. but this was quickly masked by his usual lovesick smile as he resolved to make you feel so good, your attention would forever be on him and him only.
eagerly, he helped you undress and tried not to blush at the sight of your naked body, even as he relished in the sight of the cock he had gotten on his knees for so many times before. you were confused at his reaction. "we're both guys, why are you embarrassed?" you were so silly sometimes. he was finally going to be made your bitch, of course he would be flustered!
with your cock teasing his entrance, he made his final invitation. "i want you to mess me up inside." he begged as he spread his virgin hole open, groaning in pain and pleasure as you pushed halfway into him. immediately, you looked up to his face in concern. "you okay? it's only halfway in..." "fuck, i said i can take it!" with that, he pushed himself onto your cock with a lewd determination, letting out an overly passionate moan as you fully entered him. instinctively, you shushed him, not wanting the neighbours to hear. "shhh! you're being too loud....." "make me." he retorts defiantly, trying to rile you up so you would be rougher. "huh?" fuck, he was really pushing it today. you really didn't want to, but he was making far too much noise. resorting to muting him forcefully, you reach for his mouth and clamp your hands over it, effectively gagging him. his eyes widen, not expecting you to take the bait, but he's in heaven. you can practically see the hearts in his eyes as he sluttily sucks on your fingers, all that's left is a series of muffled whimpers.
even though your mind was currently preoccupied with the way your boyfriend's squeezing your cock, you can't help but think about your exes after he brought the topic up. you knew you were a little dumber than most, but did all those guys really break up with you just because you were stupid? he seemed to sense your feelings and clenched harder, making you lose focus and grip his hips tightly. the thought of you thinking about your exes while you were inside him was horrible, he couldn't have that at all! "s-see, darling, my ass is much better than those sluts, isn't it- uuummfff." he could barely form words as he continued to ride you up and down, savouring the way your large length stretched his inner walls to their limit. it was quite the stark contrast - you were thrusting in and out of him at a tender pace, making sure you were never too rough (feeling a little guilty for muffling him so forcefully just now), but yet he was whimpering and writhing all over the bed, gripping the sheets whenever you hit his prostrate at regular intervals. he desperately tried to fuck himself on your cock when you slowed down, noticing his tears, begging you to start again. after a bit, you felt like you were about to reach your climax. "hey, i'm about to co-" "do it inside me." you didn't have time to argue as he pulled you closer into a hug, making you cum inside him, much to his delight. he adored the way you filled him up, feeling you pump load after load into his hole. he rubbed his stomach, wishing he could get pregnant with your child. but alas, he can't have everything. today was already a huge victory. exhausted, he collapsed into your arms as you stroked his hair, apologising for being a little rough and hoping his ass didn't hurt too much. he couldn't really focus on what you were saying as he just lay there and stared up at you affectionately. god, you were just perfect, weren't you?
˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗
in the middle of night, as you slept peacefully, the boy you fucked a few hours ago had just finished going through your phone, his one objective being obtaining the names of your exes. "don't worry, darling.... i'll take care of those unappreciative bastards myself. no one gets to make you feel stupid." he whispers to your ear lovingly before getting out of bed. he hoped you wouldn't be too mad when you found out he killed them when you woke up. or maybe he did, just so you could punish him. ♡
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satocidal · 2 months ago
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cw: exhibitionism, possessive suguru <3
⋆·˚ ༘ * Now One thing about Cult Leader! Suguru is that he loves seeing your fat tears rolling down the apple of your cheeks, he revels in knowing he did that...
Something akin to a whine escapes his lips as you, his pretty little assistant suck him off, his eyes stuck on your eyes, a hand resting on the back of your head.
The meeting continued as per usual. It had become a slight habit now, a bad habit - you would start mouthing him off, telling him he was wrong about so and so numbers and well, then had have to remind you were just a monkey :(
albeit, his favourite one.
So very simply, with just a single slap to your cheek, softly, just to remind you, he would spread his legs and lean back, not a single care about the array of people who were there at his beck and call - this was important, this was you.
“Ah fuck that’s perfect,” Suguru whines again, acutely aware that he'll punish for making him sound so pathetic in front of all these fuckers later - admiring your movements, the way your head bobbed, the way his juices were coated all over your face. The way you were drinking him in, trying to shove as much of his length possible, a desperate hand begging to be allowed to fondle his balls.
He loved how needy you got.
And that was when the second slap landed, fingers combing through your hair, only to yank your cock-drunk face away, a scoff as he stared at you, "Did I say you can touch me?"
How could you not?
He looked so good. It was aggravating - rewarding - magnetizing, it was everything all at once.
and fuck—you really, really need his cock in your mouth.
A shake of your head, he could tell that head of yours was so empty, contrast to how sharp you were, which was the only thing that had compelled him to take you in
Well, that and the fact that he was a tad bit obsessed with you.
So you withdraw your hand, this time his hand guided you - finally - a beckoning, all his care to make sure you were doing fine between his legs, that you would also enjoy pleasing him, that this was a habit for you too.
Then came the firm shove, slowly, steadily, your nose pressed to his crotch and he kept you there, enjoying the sight. The cold breeze of the living room fan contrasts with the glossy layer of oil he’d rubbed all over you earlier, goosebumps erupting up your thighs and back.
"hold it f'me," he mumbled, a play, pretending he cared about those present, his hand reaching for the papers on the table, toying with the pieces as he urged some man to continue - an apology muttered through his teeth, a faux smile ever present, mind only stuck on the choked whimpers you could pass.
And you held it in always so well, he'd trained you for that after all, you were his best, his cute little assistant - how foolish.
But this was a show.
A reminder to everyone that this pet was his - and while he only smiled when any one of those business partners commented about you - you knew he didn't like it.
Evident in the slight cock of his brow, evident in the way his hips would start bucking - no longer using your mouth to just warm his cock but now fucking it - as a reminder.
For you and for them, often, for himself.
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