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#there's no shame in that and you should be glad someone like him is in our company
greeneyed-thestral · 1 year
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cordeliawhohung · 1 month
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PS! Gaz who gets jealous when another star makes his favorite girl cum so hard her whole body shakes. Like it grates on him that someone else can take her to the heights he can, can't openly call himself "her best" when he knows there's a rival on the horizon.
So he makes a study out of it, the meticulous bastard. Talks to his girl more, tests things out during filming, and is infuriatingly smug when he ends up making her squirt with just his tongue
- 🦴 anon, if it hasn't been taken already
kyle got to know your body very well ever since he started filming with you. knows all the right buttons to press, which ones not to press... so when another actor makes you come on his cock? he refuses to believe it's jealousy that ignites in his chest. it isn't envy that makes his blood feel like molten iron in his veins. no, it's something else, surely. if anything, he should be glad you got to come, right? such a shame to leave you high and dry. he just wishes he was the only one he could do that...
and still, he's pulling out all the stops. trying every trick in the book to do better. he wants to occupy your every thought, to be the only one you crave in the night when that ache between your thighs seems unbearable. it has to be him. in some effort to rewire your brain, the next time he films with you it's overwhelmingly intense. his head stays buried between your thighs for what feels like an eternity while his fingers abuse your poor cunt nearly raw.
it got to the point your fuzzy ears could vaguely make out the director attempting to get kyle to move on, to properly fuck you already before the film was used up of just him eating you out, yet even then he refuses to stop. there was something different about your moans and the way your hips wiggled, as if trying to get away from him. his fingers curled inside of you, hitting a spot that had pressure building inside of you. but it wasn't the pressure of an orgasm. it felt different... odd.
kyle moves back just in time for that pressure to build and burst in a wet sheen all over his fingers and forearm. he's enamored by your body, how you just ruined the sheets underneath you because of what he did, making you squirt, and judging by the slack-jawed expression on your face, that was the first time you had ever done it. everyone on set has to hold back their whispers as the director repositions cameras in order to get a better angle of the fiasco, and kyle grins. it's wide and pearly and fucking beautiful, and yet you can't find the time to fully process it before he's pushing his cock into your slick cunt all too easily.
"makin' a mess, aren't ya, doll? all over my goddamn fingers? good girl. why don't you make a mess all over this cock next, yeah?"
anyway ily 🦴 anon thanks for the ps!gaz food <3
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I saw your post about accidental facesitting with the dorm leaders, and I was wondering if you could add onto that for Jade, Floyd, Rollo, and the staff? (If you’re comfortable with the staff being non-platonic, of course!) thank you!
I've done most of those 🖤🖤🖤
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Accidentally Sitting on Their Face (12) | Yandere Twisted Wonderland
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Divus Crewel
Having someone to help manage his work load is a lovely thing
Especially when it let’s him admire your lovely face without the annoying barking and nosey pups he has to teach
It also means that it’s okay for you both to be vulnerable 
To let you both allow slip-ups you wouldn’t usually do in front of the strays
Like when you lose your footing on a paper 
While Crewel unceremoniously does what he can to catch you
“Oh Divus I’m so sorry! I’ll get up right away!”
“There’s no need to rush, I can handle you in anyway you need.”
No shame
He’s quite clearly in love with you but you just don’t seem to take the hint
How many more men will he have to poison before you notice he’s the best
He’ll relish the feeling before asking to do such things more often
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Dire Crowley
“Dire! W-what are you doing here!?”
“I just thought I can offer some assistance!”
“Then why don’t you help with the things I’m carrying?!”
“No thanks!”
He clearly puts himself in position 
Loving the inevitable outcome
He’s tempted to make it even worse if he attempts to talk during it
“S-ss-top that!”
When you finally abandon the weight your carrying to remove yourself from his face
He’s really disappointed
“Awww I was hoping you’d stay for longer.”
Whatever scolding you give him goes in one ear and out the other
As most of your protests do
Specifically of his constant breaking of boundaries 
You can only hope his bird brain will having forgetting the arousal he got from this
He never will
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Sam
Having a hand to help manage the shop is great
Forget the fact he has help from the other side
He doesn’t mind if it’s you restocking the higher shelves
To watch your shirt hike up, what a view
And its not your fault one of his shadows had a touch of inspiration 
When you’re tumbling down and Sam is in the perfect position to catch you
With his face
He barely brings himself to tut at his shadows for suggesting to hold you down
Wouldn’t want to be discovered
“S-sam!” 
“Are you alright? I’m glad I caught you.”
He’s glad you can’t see him blush 
Because if you could he’d be bright red
He’ll have to thank the shadows soon
Another rival’s soul should do the trick
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avocado-writing · 4 months
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good boy
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notes: my mate M put this idea in my head. this is her fault. pairing: gale x f!reader (sub!gale, dom!reader; praise kink; mummy kink)
rating: E
Gale has been dealt an unnecessarily unfair hand in the card game of life, you think. 
Having a tumultuous relationship with a goddess is one thing, getting a bloody magic bomb sealed into your chest is quite another. And all on top of being infected with that damned tadpole?
Well. Those sorts of things can really grind a man’s self esteem down. 
You can see that he tries to paint over it with his erudite speech, using fifteen words where he could use one to trick his listener into believing he holds a sense of grandeur about himself—but you know how to look for the subtler signs. The way he casts his eyes down whenever you give him a fond word, flinching ever so slightly when someone reaches out to touch him in kindness. 
Deep down, the man does not believe he deserves to be treated well. 
You are trying to correct that in every way you know how. 
“That’s it… aren’t you gorgeous, Gale? Such a good boy for me…”
“Unf… I…”
You can tell he’s trying to think of something clever or witty to say. From where you ride him, you press a finger down onto his lips to corral him to silence. It works, and as his mouth slips open you let your thumb slide against his tongue so he can suck it. 
Gods he is gorgeous. Chestnut, silver-streaked hair fanned out like a halo against the velvet of his pillows, a soft sheen of sweat dripping down him to give away the rigour you’ve been putting his body through. You made a point to apply your reddest lipstick so you could leave a trail of your adoration on him. Marks are pressed along his jawbone, down his neck, across his collarbone and chest; he is a masterpiece of debauchery. 
“You’re so beautiful like this, Gale. So beautiful all the time, dancing across the battlefield while you weave your magic… such clever hands, darling, so lovely…”
Those hands are currently settled on your hips, holding you tightly as you fuck him. With each word of praise you feel his cock twitch inside you. It’s nice to know what you can do to him, how wild you can drive him. As wild as he drives you. 
A grind down of your pelvis, pressing your clit into the rough hair at the base of him and grinning as he moans. 
“Tell me you’re my good boy, Gale. I want to hear it from your pretty mouth.”
What happens next is in a tumble of words, so fast you don’t properly catch it for a moment. 
“I’m—fuck—I’m your good boy, mummy!”
He freezes. You pause in your riding. His eyes snap open from where they were squeezed shut in rapture. The flush of pink across his skin is now no longer from lust, but shame, and he realises he has made a mistake in voicing that out loud. 
“Gods. My deepest apologies, I never… didn’t mean to… we should have discussed this first, beforehand, I’m utterly horrified that… I’m sorry—!”
You reach down and silence his panic with a long, tender kiss, rolling your tongue across his. When you pull back, he’s returned to looking blissed-out rather than concerned. 
“‘Mummy’, is it?” you ask, mouth ticking upwards into a rather pleased smirk. “Well, darling boy. Mummy is very glad you know how good you are. How handsome and clever and wonderful.”
“Oh…” he whimpers, actually whimpers, and you know he won’t last long like this. You go back to riding him in earnest, fucking him until all he can do is gasp, and press one of your hands down across that mark on his chest, obscuring it beneath your touch. 
He is not Mystra’s. He is yours. 
“Come for mummy, you beautiful boy.”
Gale comes so hard you’re worried that he passes out for a second. His hips stutter beneath yours as hot jets fill you up, bringing you over the edge with him, the cocktail of the two of you leaking back down his length obscenely. 
He falls back and tries to catch his breath as you slowly pull off of him, grabbing the wet cloth you brought bedside earlier and gently wiping him down. The coolness makes him sigh in delight and he nuzzles into your touch, gulping down water gratefully when you bring a cup to his lips. 
“Are you alright, my love?” you ask gently, the rougher edge of your voice gone, giving away to something soft and caring. He nods and meets your eyes with his warm, adoring gaze. 
“Yes, my heart. Better than ever. And… I really didn’t mean to… I know we were swept up in the moment but if you’re not comfortable with it then you absolutely never have to…”
Another kiss. Less dominant, more reassuring. He hums delightedly into this one. 
“Whatever you need me to give you, my love,” you tell him. He melts into your arms, safe and loved. 
taglist: @ghosti02art @sadandanxiouswtf @yeethaw13 @trappedinlimbo15 @infinitely-kate@dhampling (lmk if you want to be added!)
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rafeandonlyrafe · 5 months
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dealbreaker
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HEAVILY inspired by this post by @whinesandwhimpers
words: 500
warnings: smoking
you brush your hair out of your face, regretting your bangs at this moment as you press your back against the brick wall. you tug at your uniform, suddenly feeling constricted by your clothing.
you fan your face, glad that it's a rare cold day in the outer banks, giving you some relief. you're not usually stressed out by your server shifts, but you occasionally get a table that is so obnoxious that you have to step out for your break once they leave. thankfully, your manager is pretty understanding.
you glance over when the door bursts open, an unfamiliar man stepping into the alley. it's not too much of a surprise, the door is accessible by customers, just not used too often.
the man glances over to you as he pulls a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket. “want a smoke?”
you scrunch your nose up, shaking your head no.
“suit yourself.” he says, sticking the cigarette into his mouth, pulling a lighter out next and taking the flame to the end at lighting it.
he takes a deep breath in before letting out a puff of air. “im rafe.”
“y/n.” you reply.
“nice to meet you.” his eyes flicker down to your uniform. “you work here?”
“yeah, im a server.” you say.
“that's a shame.” rafe says, taking another deep puff of his cigarette.
“why do you say that?” you question, tilting your head to the side.
“you're beautiful. a girl like you shouldn't have to be waiting tables.”
“alright, you can pay my rent then.” you joke with a roll of your eyes. you should have suspected that rafe was just another typical customer, stuck up and full of themselves.
rafe makes a face like he actually considers it, sending a puff of smoke out. you wave your hand through the air, trying to keep it away from you, not wanting to come back in with a uniform smelling of smoke.
“not a fan of smoking?” he questions.
“it's nasty.” you wrinkle your nose. your parents didn't smoke, and you never knew anyone who did frequently, so you never got used to the smell.
“is it a deal breaker for you?” rafe questions.
you scrunch your brows together. “what do you mean?”
“well-” rafe begins. “would you date someone who smokes?” he takes a step closer. “kiss someone?”
“no, i guess i wouldn't.” you shrug.
rafe immediately tosses the cigarette onto the concrete, stamping it out with his shoe. rafe takes the pack out of his pocket next, tossing it into the dumpster.
“what, are you interest?” you laugh.
“yeah, what if i am?” rafe questions.
you aren't sure what to say. he may be rich and cocky, but he's also handsome, and you can't deny feeling at least physically attracted to him.
“well…” you glance at your watch. “my shift is over in two hours.”
rafe smirks at you, nodding his head. “ill be here.”
taglist: @drewstarkeyslut @rafecamerongirl @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @winterrrnight @drudyslut @drewsbabygirll @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @jjmaybankisbae @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog @outerbankspov @drewstarkeyswifehoe @cutielando @kamninaries @buckyswhxre @bejeweledreverie
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i. don’t really know what to think about the whole forever situation. because i have seen people say “he’s addressed this a long time ago so why are we bringing it up” but i haven’t seen WHERE he’s addressed it in the past. nary a tweet or clip of anywhere he may have talked about it, but i would love to see an older clip of him talking about this if possible
I’ve seen people say “his tweets and messages were translated in bad faith to give english speakers a bad perception” which. ok yeah understandable but if that’s the case i still don’t know what exactly the situation is or how serious it is
“she was 13” “she was 15” OK WHICH IS IT!!! both are bad but one is still significantly grosser than the other and i don’t know which is true!! or are there multiple girls!!! i don’t know!!!
“he met a fan for flirtatious/sexual reasons” “he met a fan for normal content creator reasons” WHICH IS IT!!!! I DON’T KNOW!!! i guess only he and the fan would know what the intent was when they met, and even then i don’t know if they met alone or if it was a normal ass fan meetup with multiple other people there
“it’s been 7-8 years, he’s changed” ok. now we are making some sense. he has not exhibited this kind of behaviour in years it seems and he appears to be the kind of person who would not say or do these things now. no one is irredeemable and no one is beyond change. still, it is important for some people to know. many fans would rather know this and make the educated choice on whether to support him or not than continue to support him in blind blissful ignorance. even though it’s stressing me out and i’m still clueless about a lot of it, i’m glad i know anyway.
“what about the past transphobia and the ableism and the and the and the-” That Is Not Relevant To This Conversation. this is a different situation. he has apologized for his past opinions and everyone has had ample time to come to terms with them and make peace with supporting him despite his past beliefs.
“he’s deleting past tweets” i mean if someone was digging around my account for things i’ve said that i no longer stand by, i would delete shit too. sure as hell doesn’t make him look innocent but i would do the same. i HAVE done the same, albeit for much more minor and trivial reasons for posts i made when i was like 15, but still
“he apologized and said he’s getting a lawyer!! no guilty person would do that!!” your content creator is not an angel. guilty people take their accusers to court all the time and get away with it. also, it is up to everyone individually to decide whether to believe him or not. you cannot push others to believe your side but you can give context to some things
there’s nuance to this like there is with everything, and people are jumping to conclusions saying either “he’s an innocent little lamb how dare you!” or “he should be deplatformed and we should never speak of him again!” i will never fault anyone for supporting the alleged victim. if your decision is to stop watching him immediately or even stop supporting the qsmp itself, no one should ever fault you for that. it is ultimately up to you to make that decision. the situation is not clear enough for me to make a decision, so i will withhold judgement for now. i will not doompost about it, and i will not call out people for defending or dropping him.
but for the love of god, just. everybody keep your cool. especially english speakers, we may not have full proper translations for the messages and tweets. take a deep breath. if you want to find more info to form an opinion now and spread information that people don’t already have, go ahead. if you want to step back and not think about it for now, go ahead. there is no shame in taking a step back and thinking about other things. you are not morally obligated to be invested in this situation. you are not morally obligated to drop him immediately and you are also not morally obligated to keep supporting him just because he’s friends with your favs. stick to your gut and do what you feel is right. you will be okay. this is not the end of the world.
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cumikering · 1 month
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Neighbour Ghost x reader 6
2.7k | angst No matter how loyal, guard dogs still have their teeth (part 1) (part 7)
Simon’s steps to your door were heavy, as his heart had been since that call.
Despite his blazing wrath, he was unprepared for the waves of guilt that washed over, the shame that wrestled to drown him. He was unable to protect you from his past – he brought it upon you, even after how much too sweet you’d been, how softly you’d touched him. How could he ever look you in the eye again?
The stray never deserved any of that.
When you gave him a squeeze at the door, he didn’t return it. Still, you tugged him in with the same lovely smile, even when it wasn’t as wide.
“Fancy a cuppa?”
“No.”
Your pretty hand shouldn’t be in his filthy one. Do you even know what I do with these hands?
You sat at the dining table and Simon remained on his feet to your side, eyes fixed on the cup of pu erh before you. His fists clenched and released. You didn’t like pu erh.
At the end of the day, he was still a reaper in dress uniform - one with an unrelenting demon that lurked in the far corner. He could have fucked him up that evening at the bakery. Feel his nose crumble against his knuckles, maybe even the snap of his scrawny neck in his hands.
But no, this happened because he didn't. Like his mum said, you were good for him, of course you were. But was he for you? He was nothing but trouble.
You smiled up at him. Always so sincere, so delicate, making his stomach twist more.
“My dad’s visiting this weekend. I was wondering if you wanted to meet him? And… Um, what I should introduce you-“
Not addicted, he'd tell himself too many times, as if it didn’t sound like a bloody lie to his own ears. You were the beginning of an incurable addiction, a cliff with the bewitching view he was a step away from falling off of.
His gaze left you. “I’m going back home with my mum tomorrow.”
“Oh,” you said, your disappointment evident. “Okay, maybe next time then.”
His heart pounded in his ears as he forced the words out, nails digging into his palms. “We should stop this.”
“What… What are you saying, Simon?”
“This. Meeting you, staying over. I’ll have less time when I become captain. This isn’t going to end well,” he reasoned, but it sounded more like he was convincing himself this was the right thing.
He knew it was, even when it didn’t feel like it, like a lot of things in life. He knew one day he’d be glad he did this. One day, even when right then it felt like the worst thing he could be doing. Would someone, something, rip this decision away from his hands?
“You don't get to say that yet, not right now. I know you're going through a lot.” You reached for his hand. “But we can wait until things settle and we’ll talk-“
He pulled away from your touch. “I've made up my mind. I never meant for things to get this far.”
In the still room, his stare remained on the cup you hadn’t touched since his arrival.
“You knew this all along and you still let it happen,” you said as realisation dawned.
He looked up to meet your hardened gaze. He’d seen you sad, annoyed, angry, but this was the first time your eyes were devoid of warmth. Being the receiving end of that stare was a stab to his chest.
“I should believe people when they show me who they are.” You chuckled humourlessly. “Get out, Simon.”
The world slowed. It was hard to draw his breath as he remained unmoving, like he was chained to the floor of where his sanctuary once was. Despite the arms that ached to wrap around you and never let go, he forced himself to walk away as his blood ran cold.
The door slammed behind him. He didn’t expect a positive response, of course, but it was definitely not the shatter of his own heart.
Still, it didn’t hurt as much as it would have had he waited until you inevitably left him for one reason or another. At least he’d never have to worry about being like his dad, about hurting you, betraying you, if you weren’t there to begin with. Like he’d always known, you deserved better, someone as lovely as you – unlike this stray who would never be enough.
It’s the right thing.
He could give his mum his undivided attention now. She would never leave nor kick him out the door. If he was not wanted, he had to be endlessly needed, used dry until he was nothing but a ghost.
“Who the fuck broke my bloody door!”
Simon and his mum had been waiting for his dad’s return to the house that had turned into a complete mess. Meanwhile, she’d packed as much of her belongings as she could, her luggage in the living room.
“Sign the bloody papers before I make sure you never can anymore,” Simon barked, standing tall next to his sitting mum.
His dad rounded the corner and Simon’s jaw ticked thinking of what he did to you. He let out a weak sigh at the sight of his wife and son at the dining table, a sight he hadn’t seen in over a decade. His eyes softened.
“I don’t want anything from you, James. Please sign them and we’ll be out of here.”
He pulled out the chair across the table and propped his elbows up, face in his hands as he took a deep breath.
“I need to apologise, Melanie,” he began. “I’ve made your life hell, and I know there’s nothing I can do to change that now. I was my fault.”
“She didn’t ask,” Simon said through gritted teeth. He shoved the papers closer when he ached to break the filthy table with his dad’s skull.
“I’m sorry about your last night here. It was unforgiveable, what I did.”
Simon slammed his fist onto the table. He had watched the grand performance too many times. “You’re not fooling anybody with your tricks. Sign the bloody papers. I swear this is the last time I’m asking.”
His mum patted his hand, and he reluctantly took the seat next to her.
“I want you to have the house, Mel. You’ve always kept it too beautiful for a man like me. It’s the least I can give you after everything.” He let out a steady breath, flipping open the document. “I hope one day you can find it in your heart to forgive me for how much I’ve hurt you,” he added quietly.
Was that remorse that settled in his hollow eyes?
His mum bit her lip as a tear slipped. When Simon wrapped an arm around her, she sobbed into his chest.
No words were exchanged as his dad went through the papers, and it remained so until Simon wheeled his mum’s luggage out the door behind her.
“Goodbye, James.” She didn’t spare him another look.
“Simon?” he called in a small voice. “I’m sorry I’m not the father you deserve.”
The lieutenant threw the door shut.
Simon spent the next few days with his mum, Tommy, his wife and son. Since his last visit, Tommy’s got a new job and seemed to be spoiling his son rotten with plenty of new toys, including the shiny red bike outside. Unfortunately, even after over a year, he and Beth still hadn’t had much luck trying for a second child.
Joseph was a brilliant kid with a toothy smile, just like Tommy was, and it always surprised Simon how big his nephew got between each visit. It was a shame he only got to meet his family twice or thrice each year.
“Joe, you’ve been sitting on your uncle’s shoulders all day,” Beth said with an amused smile. “Give him a break.”
“It’s the best seat ever!” His little arms wrapped tighter around Simon’s head, eyes glued onto the cartoon on the telly.
“You need to do your homework.”
“I’ll do it here.” He poked the top of Simon’s head.
He laughed. “I don’t mind.”
She shook her head. “Come on now. Dinner will be ready in an hour. You don’t want to be late.”
“Okay…” he huffed before dragging his feet to his room.
While he flicked through the channels,  Beth went back to the kitchen where his mum was. He wasn’t one to watch the telly apart from football, but his thumb hovered over the button when the Great British Bake Off came on.
He remembered the episode. He’d watched it with you, the only person he ever watched the show with. It was yours, like a secret only the both of you knew.
It’s the right thing.
Faintly, his mum chuckled at something her daughter-in-law said, and his mind couldn’t help but drift to all the times it was you and her in his flat instead. Sharing stories, laughing, while he smiled at the sight from afar.
It’s the right thing, Riley, I promise.
He turned the telly off and went for a walk instead.
At dinner, the table admired little Joe’s drawings he’d done at school – he always saved them for when his daddy came home. With his precious family beaming, it seemed like the life Simon should have had, the one he always imagined was supposed to be like. But even without the devil trailing behind like an ellipsis, this, somehow, didn’t feel right either.
Despite his smile, his chest was heavy with the rotting carcass of the heart he didn't know he still had until weeks ago.
It’s the right thing, it’s the right thing, it’s the right thing.
Later that night, Simon’s head tilted when he entered the guestroom his mum occupied.
“Have you not packed yet? We’re leaving tomorrow. I’ve still got training on Monday.”
On the bed, she lowered her book and frowned. “I’m not leaving. Manchester is my home, Si.”
“Home is where you’re safe, mum, and you’re not here.”
She sighed, the sympathetic kind, before putting her book away. “My well-being and happiness aren’t your responsibility.”
He scoffed. “‘course they are.”
“I can’t thank you enough for thinking about me, but what’s happened, happened. I’m trying to start over, and that includes not being a baggage to you.”
He blinked. “Mum, what are you on about?” he asked carefully as he sat next to her.
“You need to live your life. You push good things away, Si.”
What… “I don’t. You’re all I’ve got.”
“Always so stubborn.” She shook her head. “Don’t make the same mistake I did, Si. My first love… Your granddad didn’t want us together, and I ended up with your dad. I grew to love him, but it wasn’t what I wanted. I chose easy over real. Sometimes I wonder if I’d been less afraid, what life would be like now.
“I'm by no means regretful, because I got to have my two perfect sons, but you had to pay for my mistakes too, and for that I’m yet to forgive myself. I’m supposed to give you a good life, but I didn't. The least I can do now is not hold you back.
Her hands clasped over his. “So live for me, Si. Don't worry about me. Wherever you go, whatever you do, I will always be your mum. I can’t stop loving you even if I tried. I just need to see you happy, that’s all I need from you.”
His gaze dropped to the ground. “I’m not good enough for her,” he muttered.
“That’s not for you to decide.”
“Isn't it too late?”
“Never.”
“You make it sound so easy.”
“You make it sound harder than it is.” She cupped his cheek. “It won’t be painless, but if she’s the one, it will be worth it.”
Against his mum’s shoulder, he wished his tears would stop flowing, but with the way she rubbed his back, Simon was once more just a little blond boy with the scraped knee.
From the front porch in the chill night, it was shameless how he called you at that hour, when he didn’t even say goodbye when he left. It was shameless how even after you rejected his calls, he still called for the 5th time, or 10th – he’d lost count. But at last, the line connected.
“Luv,” he said breathlessly, palm pressing against his eyes that had barely dried.
“Please stop calling me.”
“No, wait. Please, listen. Don’t-”
“You’ve made up your mind. Begging only reduces me to nothing, so I didn’t try to change it. I owe you nothing, Simon.”
And the line clicked off.
Still sat on the steps, he blinked at the phone in his hand, deciding if he was going to worsen the situation if he called again. It was shameless that he did anyway, but it went straight to voicemail.
Simon might not have had plenty of dating experience, it was shameless really, but he knew he still had a chance if you were mad.
You’d listen when he showed up at your door, still hauling his backpack.
“Luv, please. Please, listen.”
He thought his heart was about to explode when your footsteps approached. The door opened halfway.
“Hi,” you said, not meeting his eyes.
His breath hitched, and he was near to tears. Despite his resolve, he couldn’t get the words out.
“I've thought about it. You're right. I thought I knew what I was getting into, but it was always so hard to see you leave, and I realised it’s only going to get harder.”
No, no, no...
“Thank you for being honest and saving us from further heartache. I know I didn’t have to block you, but I hope you understand my decision to not be in contact anymore.”
“Luv, no. I wanted- I want to try. I don’t care how hard it gets.“
“I care. I want stability, maybe even a family, and I see now we’re not heading in the same direction.” You looked up at him with glassy eyes and a pained smile. “I wish you all the wonderful things, Simon. Truly, I'm so thankful I got to know you.”
He barely made out the words tumbling out of your lips, wishing he was hallucinating.
“Goodnight, Simon,” you whispered as you closed the door.
Even then, you didn’t give him a foul look for his audacity to show his face after biting the hand that fed him. It was the last time you were going to see him, why did you still have to treat him with respect?
He wished you’d have said something mean, even sick. You should have called him names, tell him he was the most ungrateful man there was, that he was just like his dad, so he had something to hate, so the fire could flare up high once more and he’d be safe behind it like he always was.
But it was you. You could stab him in the chest, and he wasn’t sure it would have been enough to hate you. To overwrite how wonderful you’d been to the wounded stray.
His gaze cast down, unmoving at your door. He did this to himself. It was his fault for dropping his cold stare, for smiling, for looking when you weren’t, cracking his jokes, touching your hand and kissing you, for lying down and baring his belly. It wasn’t your fault you didn’t want him anymore after what he’d done.
If he closed his eyes, he could still see the vivid curve of your lips, your soft laugh, the caress of your fingers. The ache for you morphed into an itch that made him want to claw at his skin, to replace the sweetness with bright, searing pain.
Would you please do the humane thing and shoot him so he didn’t have to drown in the storm that brewed in him?
It was for the best, he told himself. It was what he wanted after all, to keep his problems away from you, to keep you happy, even when he wasn’t in the picture. Leaving you was his repayment for being a thankless beast.
“Just because I go, doesn’t mean my heart follows,” he whispered.
@tiredmetalenthusiast @shadofireshinobi @keegansshark @two-gh0sts @eve-lie @lyenera @luvecarson @jaguarthecat @knight4xmas @unwrittenletter @mxtokko @reaperxxxxzz @footyandformula @opalesquegirl @audisive @sparrowgalaxy @fanficreblogs @strawberrystargal @damalseer @onlineoutcast
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cozymoko · 8 months
Note
Platonic!Yandere Dad Gojo would be swell for me obvs not for the kid
Glad to see you back 🤗
PLATONIC! YANDERE DAD GOJO SATORU
Note: Hey, hey, hey! I'm glad to be back.
Format: Headcanons
Featuring: Platonic! Yandere Gojo Satoru
WARNINGS: Slight yandere themes
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⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀— 「大丈夫でしょう。だって、君弱いもん。」
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Whether you're the product of a fling, a past relationship, hell, even if you aren't his blood. GOJO SATORU will take full responsibility for you!
You're spoiled rotten; it's honestly humorous. Even if your eyes linger for a moment, it's yours. No matter the price — the time — hell, even the place. There's no room for anything even relatively mediocre for you.
The day you met Megumi was the day he felt complete. If not for Megumi constantly being by your side, Gojo would've already worried himself to death! Sure, he gets a little jealous of when the two of you spend time together but that's normal, right?
There's not a moment when you aren't on his mind. In a very caring way, of course. Expect plenty of souvenirs from him, matching keychains being one of his personal favorite. But that's only when Gojo's not sneaking around his responsibilities (too much). If there's an opportunity, he'd take you out on several expensive trips, pushing his work onto Megumi to make up for it. Hey, it's not his fault he has a little too much favoritism towards you!
“Hey! That's no fair!” Gojo pouted. “You've been hanging out with Megumi more and more lately!”
You sat there, dumbfounded, at the behavior of the man you once admired wholeheartedly. In other words, your childish father. Maybe you'd be surprised if this were the first time it's happened; but, it's not.
At times you felt like his parent, but it was kinda of endearing in a sense. Gojo's strange mannerisms always kept you on your toes, patiently awaiting his next move with anticipation or even anxiety. But it wasn't all that bad.
You wouldn't give it up for the world.
Gojo is protective towards all his students, so you are no exception. Perhaps he'd be a bit more watchful of you but that's it. Gojo truly has no desire to monopolize your time, if anything he just wants to give you a better childhood than he had. But hey, teenagers need space! He gets that.
Sure he likes to joke around, but not at the expense of your well-being. The thought of you dying on his account is enough to send him spiraling. Man I'd hate to be whoever's on the receiving end.
“It's a shame, really. To end your life so early, that is.” The sorcerers' tone was upbeat yet seemingly forced. A tight lipped-smile adorned his lips, though it didn't reach his vibrant eyes. "But you've hurt someone extremely important to me. For that, you'll have to die.”
Gojo lowered to his heels, gazing lazily at the curse trembling before him. It was a rather hideous one at that. To think this thing almost caused you so much grief renders him ill. More so than the dark emotions brewing in his being the longer he watched it squirm.
Only then, did a single thought cross his mind. A thought that turned his cold smile warm — genuine, sinister even. “Hah! But don't worry, I'll make it worth your while. After all, being tortured by the strongest should be an honor.”
Your youth slips day by day, and with it your attention. It's only a matter of time before you go on to pursue a career in the adult world one day. The hourglass only has so much sand. Oh, that cruel side of the world that isn't made for such an oblivious kid — Satoru's kid at that.
Unlike Megumi, Gojo knows there's no real guarantee that you'll join the Jujutsu world. It's dangerous, so in a way he's relived by your lack of interest. However, if you attended Jujutsu Tech, then he could spend more time with you. Plus you're the child of the strongest, so there's no way you could lose!
“Wahh! My baby's growing up!” Gojo wails childishly, squishing his pale cheek against your own. “Please say you won't forget about Daddy!”
You scoff, peeling his lean arms from your shoulders. For someone so slim, he sure had a grip that could kill. “Dad, you're so dramatic. Of course I won't forget about you.”
He smiled, waving you off with a cheerful bye. Only for that same smile ti drop once you left.The genuinity of your words did little to soothe him. His heart churned in his chest as though it was being restricted by the sturdiest of rope.
You were growing up so fast he could hardly believe it. Soon enough you'll be moving out and starting a family of your own. Well, a new family plus him and Megumi of course!
As a father, his yandere tendencies aren't too noticeable to the naked eye. Some would argue that they dont exist. It's truly a side that Gojo never wants you to ever see. The opinions of others matter little in comparison to your own. Gojo desperately wants you to have the childhood he could not and he won't stop until you get just that. You deserve it.
GOJO SATORU isn't willing to get his hands dirty for just anyone. But it seems that when it comes to you and Megumi, he's more inclined to letting it happen.
Oh! Don't mind the blood on his hands. It's nothing, honestly! Just go hang out with Megumi for a bit until Gojo cleans up his little mess. Oh, and remember not to ask any unnecessary questions~!
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sinsirellaxx · 2 months
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The slytherin boys react to you breaking up with them but youre hella toxic😛
Have also been fucking obsessing over your page wtf
Slytherin Boys – What they’d be like if you broke up with them
Warning: toxic Slytherin boys (nothing new) and toxic reader
A/N: Thank you so much. I'm glad you like my page! 🥰
Mattheo …
… he’d be confused. Everything was going well, right? You were madly in love with him, right?! Apparently not. You smiled at him evilly as you watched the cocky smirk, he always wore on his lips disappear.
Everything played out in slow motion as Mattheo listened to you telling him that it was his fault. That he wasn’t enough. That he’d never be enough for you.
Before he could register what he was doing he was all over you, desperately holding onto your shoulders as he shook you. “D-Don’t say that love. I can change! I can be better.” He pleaded with you, which was very untypical of him. Looking at him with disgust, you pushed him away, shaking your head as you told him that there was someone else.
“Who is it?” Mattheo grit out, the feeling of hurt being completely replaced by raw anger.
You told him his name, the smirk never leaving your face as you felt pure excitement at his pain. Finally, it was your turn to watch his world came crashing down instead of your heart being broken, day after day by him.
The dark-haired male scoffed, “You’ll regret that, love. He won’t be able to tame a brat like you.” He tilted his head as he glared at you, still in disbelief over your audacity.
You walked out of his room, briefly stopping to speak over your shoulder before you disappeared out of his life. Oh, he can handle me just fine.
Theodore …
… outright refuses. “You can’t break up with me.” Theodore wouldn’t even leave room for discussion or a fight – he’d simply kiss you and continue acting like you were still together. You left his room? He isn’t worried – he’ll see you tomorrow.
You ignore him in class? Nah, you’re just playing hard to get. He’d still sit next to you, even if he had to threaten the person already sitting there to stand up. They would, obviously, get lost as no one wanted to get on Theo’s bad side. You didn’t want to embarrass him, but desperate times call for desperate measures. It was now your mission to publicly shame him – be it mentioning how he reeks of smoke loudly in front of everyone or calling him clingy and outright creepy. After a week you loudly screamed at him, in the middle of the Great Hall, that you had broken up with him and that he should leave you alone.
But Theodore was stubborn. So, you had to resort to more … toxic ways. You sent him a message and asked him to come over that evening to watch a movie together. Theodore immediately returned to his cocky self when he read the message – he knew you were just playing around. What he didn’t expect to find when he arrived was one of his best friend’s head between your legs.
Lorenzo …
… gaped at you as you demanded to see his phone, your arm stretched out in front of you as you wiggled your fingers to motion for him to put his phone into your waiting palm.
You suddenly wanted to check his messages – which was weird, because he was usually the one in your relationship who wanted to control and check everything. Enzo reluctantly gave you his phone, he had nothing to hide – he really didn’t. Yet you still found something to be pissed about.
The day after that Lorenzo was changing, about to go out with his boys. You stared at him from where you were lying on his bed, frowning at the satin dress-shirt he had chosen to wear. Enzo whipped around to stare at you in shock when you told him he had to change. His nipples were clearly showing. When Lorenzo refuse, yelling at you how ridiculous he thought you were being, you jumped up from the bed and walked up to him. Your faces mere inches apart. After a moment of silence, you raised a brow and told him it was over – that he was the biggest hypocrite, for being offended even though that was the way he always acted with you. Ripping the diamond necklace he had given you on Valentine’s Day off your neck you threw it into his chest, turning to leave the room. Your hips swaying as you left a shocked Lorenzo in his room.
Draco …
… it had taken you a while to get used to Draco’s love language. Gift giving. You didn’t want to be ungrateful, but Draco knew no limits. A new Cartier bracelet? You got it. An iced-out Rolex for that empty wrist of yours? Check. Flowers every week, followed by a colorful box of macarons? Double-check. No matter how much time had passed, it wasn’t getting better. The only thing that had changed was you: You started liking the expensive gifts more and more. You even purposefully talked about things you saw online or in stores, knowing very well that he would go and buy it for you like the good boy he was. The only downside? He wanted you to be well-behaved. You were supposed to dress a certain way, be styled every single day and there was no room for imperfections. You were tired. You were planning on breaking up with him for a while now but there were still those new boots that just came out and you were waiting for them to arrive – you knew Draco had bought them the second he had seen them on your phone screen.
Just one more day and you’d be waltzing out of Draco’s life with those new boots that were to die for.
Blaise …
… frowned at his phone as he was left on read by you. Again. The past few days you had been weirdly distant, taking hours to reply to his message until you didn’t anymore. Whenever he’d ask why you had left him on read you would roll your eyes and tell him that you had fallen asleep. Blaise was still skeptical but chose to ignore it for the moment.
What he couldn’t ignore, however, was the way you flirted with boys left and right.
“What the – what are you doing?” He asks obviously frustrated. You just shrug your shoulders and tell him it’s nothing. It’s not that deep. Stop being so clingy. You said, before standing up to leave. We’re over, Blaise.
Comments are appreciated! I'd really be happy about feedback. 🥹
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shewrites02 · 1 month
Text
Forgive Me if I break You | Zoro x Reader | Part II
Part I
Trigger warnings: Domestic assault, Alcohol, verbal abuse , physical abuse, graphic depictions of violence. THIS FIC CONTAINS DARK CONTENT ! MINORS DNI !
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*THERE IS A GRAPHIC DEPECTION OF DOMESTIC VIOLENCE IN THE FIRST FLASHBACK, IF NOT COMFORTABLE PLEASE SKIP. (the last line is the most important anyway)*
A/N: Thank you for all the support I've gotten at the start of this series, I was so nervous no one would be interested lol. I hope this part lives up to your expectations.
Request: Open
Word count: 5K
Leave a comment if you enjoy :)
The cold of the ice pack stings against your cheek, almost as much as the insults lodged in your throat with nowhere to go. Harshly, you swallow them down, having to reacclimate to the taste of stifled feelings. Almost completely forgotten in those two months.
You're in your shared bedroom, sitting in Lee's lap. Your head lays against his chest. With how tenderly he stroked your hair, you're almost able to imagine care in his touch. Pretend it is the swordsman who caresses you so tenderly. Lee places a soft kiss to your cheek, laying his head against yours.
"I'm sorry, y/n ... I didn't mean to lose my temper." He coos. In the past six months he never came up with any other excuse. Always an apology then an explanation of why it was your fault.
"It's jus’- you embarrassed me in front of our guests, interrupting me like that. You know I hate when you do that- and that fucking swordsman clearly has feelings for you."
Lee is almost completely lost in his rambling, and you think for a moment you will get relief from this puppet show he has forced you into. But the mention of Zoro has you going stiff.
"It's disgusting. a lowlife pirate thinking he can have what is mine. I forbid you from seeing him, do you understand?"
"Yes dear." you respond.
As if the swordsman wanted anything to do with you now. Not after what you've done to him- not after he has seen how pathetic you are. The future world's best swordsman deserves more than someone like you.
"I'm so glad you're home." Lee pivots. "I can't believe I thought you left me-"
Lee lets out a chuckle as though the thought is inconceivable. In spite of your rigidness, the chief takes a deep breath to relax into the headboard. Each chuckle that leaves his mouth tightens your shackles. Reaffirming what you already know- you aren't going anywhere.
"Is that what happened to the countryside?"  You ask meekly. Fearful of the answer, but so desperate for the truth.  "Did you burn the lemon grove to punish me?"
"... Yes."
Tears swell in your eyes as you pull away to look at the merciless man in front of you. A man who would bathe in your blood with no remorse. So desperate for your obedience he is willing to strip the last memories of your mother away from you as punishment . Did not need proof of your transgressions, his outrage evidence enough to justify his actions.
The chief uses the edge of his thumb to swipe the shallow tears brimming in your eyes.
"We can replant all of them my love, even more, now that you are home. "He lets his thumb sweep over your cheek and lips before he draws away.
Still he wears no semblance of remorse. No guilt or shame for what he's done. For the villagers - his people- homes destroyed in the crossfire of his rage. Couldn't care less about the massive amounts of  nature he burned to ash in the name of revenge. Their  forfeiture was a consequence of your decision to act so selfishly.  It was all your fault-
Why should the chief feel apologetic?
"And the villagers?"
Lee leans in to gently place another kiss to your cheek. As though his kisses can ease the pain of his strikes. Something in you wants to believe he is trying to soothe the pain he inflicted on you. The more nihilistic part of you knows you are only searching for the swordsman's affection in Lee 's actions.  Actions that only encompass power and control, that force obedience. Lee rests his forehead head against your head so that his lips are centimeters away from your ear.
"I told you, what I would do if you left- I thought you called my bluff, honey …" 
Your mouth went dry at the sight. How- You thought- there was no time to waste musing through all the precautions you  thought you followed. Not when your husband stood in front of you disproving their effectiveness.
"What is this?" He asked, pointing over to the bed.
There is an empty duffle bag clutched tight in his left hand- your duffle bag. Its contents scattered on the bed sporadically. A couple thousand berry, a map, exactly two changes of clothes, and a log pose. Everything you needed for a seamless departure.
"I- don't know how it- I-" You were too caught off guard to lie, too unprepared to conjure up an excuse on the fly. Instead you stood fumbling like an idiot trying to figure out how Lee could have possibly just stumbled upon your stash.
"What is it?!" The chief shouted, this time throwing the duffle bag so that it landed at your feet. Before you could answer, he was already stalking toward you. Soon his hands were wrapped around your jaw, squeezing your cheeks. You'd wince in pain if the man had allowed you any wiggle room. 
"Were you trying to leave me?" he growls.
"No-" you tried to muffle through your clenched jaw. the word only coming out as a strained cry.
He looked unconvinced. That darkness you're too familiar with started to fill his eyes. It made you begin to question what in you was so naïve enough to think you could escape. Lee moves his hand from your cheek to wrap his arm firmly around your waist. His opposite arm wrapped around your shoulders.
"You want to leave me?" He snarled.
Your head shook ‘no’ so vigorously you almost forgot it was a lie. Just trying to appease the chief,  to be spared from his wrath. It did not work. Lee was already starting to walk backward , dragging your body along easily despite your protests. This time you were sure.
He was going to kill you.
Lee easily kicked open the French doors leading to the balcony. Your kicking and screaming, posing as no defense against your husband. He drags you, until your torso is pressed against the balcony railing and he is forcing your head over to look at the drop.
"This is your only way out. If you want to leave me tell me now and I'll throw you over myself.... Say it!"
"I don't want to leave. I don't want to leave." The words repeated from your mouth like an incantation. Barely made out through your cries.
It was enough to make the chief release you, letting your limp body fall to the concrete. He stared down at you with a satisfactory smile before bending at the knees. The gentleness in his touch as he swept the hair out your face is always a precursor to his cruel threats.
"I'll burn this whole village to the  ground if you try to leave again. Do you understand me?" He snarls. "Slowly, one by one I will burn every region until you return to me. I will force you to watch everyone, everything , burn because you decided to be fucking selfish." 
Another kiss is planted to your cheek  before the whisper of Lee's voice commands your attention back to him. A shiver of a sigh escaping your lips at the painful memory.
"I can rebuild their homes... would you like that?"
You nod, letting the tears stream your face. You can feel Lee's smirk against your skin when he kisses the streaks. As though he is giving his approval of your reaction, your emotion.  The whites of his fingers dig into your waist to hold you close.  His grip does not lessen when you start to sob.
This is how he loved you. Broken. Tattered. Hopeless. An ode to his power, to how much he controlled you.
"Okay, Honey, first thing in the morning."
-
Water trickles down your chin and onto the sink. You had washed your face six times trying to get the feeling of Lee's hands off you. A futile attempt. His touch would be seared onto you forever.
You trace your cheek while staring into the vanity. There's some relief in not seeing a mark. Probably have your hiatus to thank for Lee's sudden mercy on you. At least you won't be subjected to questions. Trying to conjure up on the spot cover ups come morning, as to not incriminate your husband.
A shaky breath leaves your mouth. You would sob if you weren't so convinced you deserved this. The stinging of your face, the burning of your throat, the stabbing feeling in your chest. This must all be just a fraction of what you imposed on Zoro. The guilt in you leaves little room for other emotions, especially self pity.
How dare you believe a life waited for you beyond these cities' walls. Stupid, stupid, stupid- Foolishly thinking you could escape the future both your father and husband have mapped for you.
You curse the two month departure for giving you a glimpse of how good freedom could feel. For bringing the swordsman into your life when he is so undeserving of the burden you pose. For finally giving you hope just to later rub it in your  face.
"Lady Misatori." A small voice quips from the other side of the bathroom door. A knock follows to further force your attention.
A housekeeper stands on the other side. She can barely meet your eyes. A piece of notebook paper is folded into a tight square in her fingers , she is extending it out for you to grab. It trembles in her hands, giving way to the anxiety she is failing to hide.
"Thank you." You mutter. The maid looks relieved to hear her question-free dismissal.
When you open up the note you immediately recognize the handwriting. Had seen scribbled recipes written on loose leaf paper, and napkins enough to note it as Sanji's.
'Mosshead wants to talk- garden 10 minutes .'
The woman's trembling is finally put into perspective. Fearful of what her role in sneaking around the chief could mean for her. Briefly you wonder what the cook could've said to convince the woman to do this. Had his charm really been strong enough to get the woman to forgo all her senses? Part of you wishes to relish seeing Sanji's flirting finally meet with intrigue, but the insistent need to lay eyes on Zoro replaces the thought.
It has you stumbling out of the bathroom as quickly as you could. Forever grateful that in all his control Lee had found it fitting to give you a private bathroom.
-
It is dark, and wet. Leaves crunch and crumble beneath your feet as you walk the maze-like garden. The unpaved path is bordered with mountainous rose bushes that block your view of any direction, but front and back. The red flowers bloom so fruitfully they encroach your space on the pathway. The weather has gotten considerably cooler in the night, forcing you to pull your cardigan tighter around your shoulders. Regretting that the rush had made you grab the first thing with sleeves you saw.
A sigh leaves your lips exhaustedly. Surely the cook was mistaken. There was no sign of the swordsman anywhere. Maybe he had changed his mind about wanting to talk. Decided the risk isn't worth the reward. That you aren't worth the breath-
You hit an intersection on the path, and before you have the opportunity to turn left, there is a tight grasp around your arm. The force pulls you back, nestling you into the bushes behind you as you still. Once you gain your composure and are able to open your eyes, you’re met with the swordsman.
His left hand is wrapped firmly around your right arm, his other rest in the bush beside your head. Zoro has you caged. Trapped with nowhere to run. No place to hide. No escape.
"Husband?" He fumed. "Have you just been fucking around with me?"
"Zoro..." You plead, reaching out to grasp his cheek. He does not let you. Releases his hold on you to take a step back before your fingers land on him. The look on his face seethes of betrayal.
"Answer me!" The pirate barks. You flinch at the tone of his words, your eyes shutting closed. It takes a minute to gather yourself. You have never heard Zoro's voice void of any affection.
You swallow your own tears . Shove down your discomfort to accept accountability for your actions. Even if all you want to do is hold the swordsman once more. Hear his heart thump in his chest. Hear him say he loves you.
"I should have told you. I am so sorry I hurt you Zoro. "
The pirate scoffs, clearly not satisfied with your answer. He is shaking his head in disbelief, eyes burrowing into yours.
"You lied to me. You told me you loved m-"
"I Promise Zoro, I love you. I love you so much. so much." You beseech. 
The swordsman seems even more tortured by your testament. His hands find his skull to dig his fingers into his scalp. As if trying to ground himself for only a moment at the reeling thoughts.
"Does he know that? That you love me, that you're mine?"
When you don't answer the frustration builds in the swordsman. He lets out a pained laugh that morphs into more of a choke. His expression is filled with disbelief. 
"You're not mine." He speaks as if he is speaking to himself. "You're his."
"That is who you want to spend the rest of your life with? He talks to you like shit- the dirt beneath his shoes and you smile through the whole thing. The man who thinks you're his accessory- That is the man you love?"
Zoro badgers you. Moving his tongue as piercingly swift as you're sure, he can wield his swords. 
"I do not love that man." You choke.
"Then why?" The swordsman shouts. His exclamation wakes the small birds that have chosen the garden as their resting place. The sounds of their wings flapping away from the conflict fills the air. "Y/n ... why are you doing this to me?"
There is a frailness to his voice you don't recognize. Something so breakable about the way he utters your name. In the two months you had spent with Zoro you had never seen him show this much emotion.
"Zoro, if I could stay on the beach with you forever... I would. But I can't. I have people who need me-"
"I need you!" He professes, throwing his arms in the air. 
The way that Zoro bares his scars to you , when you could not do the same in return physically pains you. You force down the tears that dare to surface at his confession. Who were you to be hurt in a situation you hand crafted? To cry in the presence of a man who held his broken heart in his hands with hopes, you would fix it.
There's an immense sadness in your restraint, how you're able to still your body though every bone in you wants to wrap around him.  Reciprocate all the comfort Zoro so willingly gives to you. But this is not the beach-
"I'm so sorry Zoro. I'm so sorry." Your eyes shift to the ground. The tears are so much harder to fight off when you can see the confusion under his saddened expression.
Zoro cups your cheeks in his hands and for a fleeting moment there is no anger. There are only kisses shared under the stars, gasps fallen onto the sand, words of endearment lost to the wind. Love. For a second Zoro stares at you and there is only love.
"I don't want apologizes- " There's a shake in his breath. " I want you to tell me why I have to watch another man touch you.  Why he gets to hold you tonight instead of me. Tell me why you keep saying you love me, but you're going home to another man. Tell me the fucking truth!"
Even in his anger you can hear the worry in the pirate's voice. It takes you by surprise. Maybe malice hasn't taken up the space of affection in Zoro's heart after all. Maybe in all his poking and prodding Lee had only brought concern out of the first mate. The sweet sentiment physically aches. You turn your head, breaking free from his grasp.
"Leave Zoro- take your crewmates and go. I'm only going to hurt you if you stay, so please- go."
"... Is he why you need the sun to feel free?"
You're caught off guard by the swordsman's questions. Don't expect to hear your words echoed from his mouth. "Free". You could almost laugh hearing the word now. Freedom? What did you know about freedom? Always a pawn for someone else's will, your own desires to be placed on a shelf and expectantly forgotten.  This castle has always been your prison.
"I'll make sure you'd feel the sun everyday. I will drag it out the sky and place it in your hands if it will make you smile. I'll never trap you. I love you. Please- don't leave me." He begs.
Your body is moving on its own again, this time manipulated by the voice of the swordsman. Unsure of what has come over you, you're reaching out for Zoro, pulling him in closer. You know that you shouldn't. Especially not here and not now. But it does not stop you from standing on your tiptoes to press your lips into his.
The intention was for a quick kiss, just one last time to feel Zoro's lips on yours, but it's difficult not to savor the moment. To not search for another life, one where you could be together, in his mouth. The same desperation is displayed in the way Zoro grasps you. Tight. One hand tangled in your hair while the other on your waist. As if he could hold you tight enough to stay. He groans in displeasure why you finally pull away from him.
"Go Zoro. I'm only going to break you."
-
The sun has risen just enough to illuminate the desolate field. The early morning is still shying away from pushing out the darkness of night completely. You woke early enough to see Lee still had not returned home. Off doing something you are sure, is none of your business. 
You took the opportunity to sneak out to what used to be the lemon grove. Tears stream your face while you wonder what pushed you out here. What exactly it is that you're hoping to find amongst the ash.
The memories of your mother you can't get back? Pieces of the wooden swing you used to sit on in the summer? Evidence it was truly necessary to leave the swordsman in your past?
It's hard to focus on all you've lost when staring at the pile of rubble that is the villagers' homes. Their whole lives destroyed at a whim. You did this to them. Had you stayed home and behaved no one, not even the swordsman, would be in this situation.
"Wanna tell me what you're looking for?"
The whisper behind you sounds so familiar. There is a part of you that does not want to turn around, thinks it's better off not knowing who the voice belongs to. A bigger part of you itches with a need to know.
"Zoro."
"Maybe I can help you find it." There's a crooked smirk on his lips.
It's involuntary, the way your heart is instantly soothed at his arrival. Something it must have learned on its own while on the beach. You have to fight not to jump into his arms. Draw him into you with the wish to feel his lips again. 
" I thought I told you to leave..." you mutter.
"You did." The pirate agrees. Zoro moves from behind you, so you no longer have to crane your neck to look at him. He reaches to take your hand in his. His thumb traces the back of your hand, his touch so soft you almost don't feel it.  
"You're still here."
"You may have authority in this village, but the only person I take orders from is Luffy." He lets out a laugh.
The sound forces your brows to furrow to the center of your face. Where was his anger? His disappointment? Why wasn't he yelling at you? The last conversation you had with the swordsman had not gone the best. This warm welcome is the farthest reception you expected to receive.
"What?" He asks, reaching out to smooth the wrinkles your frown causes. You're surprised at the way you flinch when his fingertips touch your forehead, a reaction you hadn't had in at least a month.
Had it really only taken one night with Lee to erase all your expectations of being lovingly touched?
You can see Zoro's happy exterior waiver for just a moment at your knee jerk reaction. Still he does not draw away his fingers. Just trails them down so he can stroke your cheek. Still offering you a kind smile.
"Stop Zo..."  You're taking a step away before you can give into him. Pulling your hand away to further the distance.  "What are you doing here?"
"I wanted to see the lemon grove..." He uses the tip of his boot to kick at a burned shingle on the ground. "So much for that."
"Oh? You made it here all on your own?" In spite of your sorrows you laugh. "You didn't get lost?"
Zoro glares at you, his eyebrows raised to his temples. You suspect he hadn't expected you to join in on his light heartedness.
"I had to ask someone in the town square..." He sheepishly admits drawing an even more obnoxious laugh for your throat.
"Why were you looking for the lemon grove?"
"You don't remember?" He asks.
Even in your best memories of the beach, you never liked sand. The way it intrusively stuck to you, creeping its way into every nook and cranny made your skin crawl, but this beach was the expectation. You loved everything about this beach.
"Tell me something else." Zoro requests. His voice was softer than before- meeker after your supposed rejection.
You were still wrapped firmly in the swordsman arms, your head on his chest. Zoro's head had returned to rest on top of yours. A brisk breeze forced you closer to Zoro in search of warmth, the thin blanket almost whisked away at the gust. The sight drew a laugh from the pirate.
"Where would you be right now if you were home?"
The only location you could definitely think of was underneath the chief's thumb, but that surely couldn't be the answer the swordsman was looking for. It was hard to think of places in your village that still brought you joy. Places that hadn't been corrupted in the transition of power from your father to Lee.
"The lemon grove." You blurted out the second it came to you. There was a cheesy grin on your face while you reminisced. A grin that is met with a full blown smile from Zoro once he sees your joy. He leaned down to plant  a kiss to your cheek, then your jaw.
"Yeah? Why is that your favorite place?" His breath brushed against your neck.
"My mom used to take me there, and we would have picnics in the summer. There's this huge swing we'd sit on. It's my favorite place in the whole world."
"All that you've seen of it?" Zoro jokes. He caught your wrist when you went to slap his chest. Bringing your hands to his lips to kiss your knuckles. He rubbed his finger back and forth over yours after planting one last kiss to your cheek.
"Maybe you can show it to me? When we get you home?"
Lee had never in the six months you'd been married bothered to visit the lemon grove. Just knew it was a sacred space for you , a memento to your mother. This was the first time you're grateful for that. That in the chief's vast kingdom there could still be a place that could be just Zoro and yours.
"I would love that Zo."
You smiled before craning your neck to plant a kiss on his lips.
"I wanted to see your favorite place." Zoro admits once he sees you remember. "I thought it might give me some insight." 
"Insight?" You parrot in confusion. 
"You're hiding something from me." Zoro states plainly, drawing your eyes to him.
"You found out I'm married, what else can I be hiding Zoro?" Your voice trembles with exhaustion.
The swordsman narrows his eyes as he looks you over. That fury, and fire previously seen in the garden is long gone . All that remains is this inquisitive stare.
"I don't know, but you are... I wish you would let me help you."
"Help me-" There is a feigned smile painted on your lips. How could a pirate of the new world be so... heartening. Surely the horrors he has seen, far exceed the small misfortunes of your life.
"Zoro. I already told you to go. "
"If you looked at me and told me you didn't mean any of it I would've left. Sailed away and tried for the rest of my life never to think of you again, but you didn't. You told me you love me-"
"I do."
Zoro plops down onto the ash filled ground. He crosses his arms against his chest, and stares out at the rubble.
"Then I'm not leaving. Until you tell me what's going on, what's actually happening, I'm not going anywhere."
The way your heart swells at his proclamation is treacherous. Allowing yourself to be swooned by actions that could very well get the both of you executed. You almost think it's sweet, if it wasn't so stupid.
"Why do you care? Zoro I hurt you, why are you still chasing me?"
"... because I meant it when I said I love you. And I know you meant it too."
"You deserve someone better than me Zoro. Someone who won't hold you back, someone who won't hurt you, someone worthy of standing next to the world's strongest swordsman."
"I don't care what you think I deserve. That's not a decision for you to make." Zoro snaps.
"Zoro... " You sigh exasperatedly at his rebuttal. "Do you really think I won't hold you back? That you will still become the world's strongest swordsman if I'm standing next to you?"
"I don't think I will become the world's strongest swordsman if you aren't standing next to me." 
There's a sharp breath forced into your lungs at his confession. How could he say that with such certainty. It has only been two months. The two of you should be able to forget each other. Move on as if none of this happened- but Zoro stands before you stating he doesn't know if his dream will come true without you. A dream he has been chasing his entire life. A dream you've only come privy to in the last 60 days. 
"Tell me you don't love me- I'll go. If you look me in my eyes right now and say it, I'll leave." He challenges.
You search for the words on your tongue, though you cannot find them. No parts of you willing, or wanting to lie to the swordsman.
"I can't."
-
Zoro has kept his promise. The strawhat crew joining you and your husband for breakfast, lunch, and now dinner going on the third day in a row. You wonder what the pirate is waiting for? A confession? An outcry for help? Don't know what actions would be satisfactory enough to get him to sail away.
In all of those days Zoro has sat in that same seat, to the right of you at every meal. Some meals he would lightly brush his knees back and forth against yours. At others he would 'accidentally' knock his napkin off the table so he could pinch your thighs. In spite of your best efforts to forget the swordsman exists, he seems all too insistent on making his presence known.
"So Luffy, when do you think you and your crew will be leaving?" Lee asks. His voice does well to mask the irritation you can pin in the twitch of his eye. "We'd love to send you all off with a ball."
You suspect Lee's urging of the Strawhats' departure correlates to his growing  suspicion of the swordsman. The chief may be many things, but naïve has never been one of them. He takes note of the way Zoro's eye never leaves you, regardless of whoever is speaking. How the swordsman just couldn't be bothered to feign interest whenever the chief commands the room. You had spent every one of these past nights disavowing your feelings for the swordsman.
"We're thinking soon- Wednesday at the latest." Nami answers before her captain has the opportunity to. He seems to wear a confused look that is soon dissipated by her scowl. 
Two days.
Although you had trained yourself not to go looking for the swordsman, your eyes immediately fall onto him at the navigator's words. Your concern is met with raised bows, almost a silent challenge from the pirate.
Did he expect you to profess your love there at the dinner table? To look at your husband and gloat in the love you've been able to find? Neither are options being the choice was not yours. Lee has done a great job in ensuring you did not have any choices.
"Oh, I'll get the staff on preparations immediately. We will hold the ball tomorrow." Lee's smile is filled with pleasure.
His wife had returned home, and soon the guests he had been performing for would be on their way. Everything is on the road to being back to normal. Exactly how you remembered it. The thought sends a shiver down your body.
"Maybe y/n can take us to the shop to find a dress?" Robin suggests.
Lee is apprehensive about letting you go. Obvious from the way his smile falters at the archeologists suggestion. But he never could deny a pretty woman. Begrudgingly he agrees.
Part III
************************************************************************
A/N: Part three is in the works , I'm hoping to not go more than a week between chapters, but please don't hold me to that. The ADHD will make me a liar. Thank you to all the beautiful people who care about my work, and have so many kind words.
Tag List: @turtletaubwrites @jinjen @sanzu-clinic @heyauntieeee @honeybuzzzzzz @nothing-but-brass
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randoimago · 4 months
Note
For bg3, could I request platonic Wyll, Astarion, Gale, and Lae'zel finding a Tav that's quietly breaking down from all the pressure of having to save and comfort people all the time. Like they want to help people, but it's becoming too much for them.
Fandom: Baldur's Gate 3
Character(s): Astarion, Gale, Lae'zel, Wyll
Note(s): They all need therapy after this, but idk if therapy exists in D&D so give them spa days and alcohol instead
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Astarion
As someone that voices his complaints easily once he's become close enough to let you in on his secrets, he also knows when the feelings are being buried away. While he doesn't want to tell you what to do, he does pull you aside when you're back at camp to exchange supplies.
Saving people and being a hero has never been something for him, mostly because he never had someone to save him. Until you came around, that is. And he thanks you for that, but you need to stop putting so much on your shoulders. You want to save people? Well you won't be able to do that if you collapse.
You've been a good friend to him, so let him do the same to you. Take a fucking break. Break into that newspaper building and change the article to something ridiculous. Do something for yourself. Astarion is more than happy to introduce you to some of his more fun morally grey activities just to get everything off of your mind. He has dealt with the aftermath of being burnt out and wasting away because bottling your emotions becomes too much, he won't see the same happening to you.
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Gale
Notices you looking tired and suggests a break. He'll always be happy to lend and ear and offer some words of wisdom. Mostly, let yourself rest. You're already doing a lot and you should find a nice book and lay down in your tent for a bit to destress.
While Gale is trying to have his morals in the right place, he also knows not everyone can or deserves to be saved. It's valiant of you to try and offer help to anyone you can, but he can see the toll it's taking on you mentally, emotionally, and physically. Honestly, Faerun is a big place, let some other adventurers lend their help, you deserve some wine.
It's a shame that Magnificent Mansion or Tiny Hut aren't spells you can get in game, but Gale would happily cast Magnificent Mansion for you to just have an impromptu spa day. It's what you deserve for being his greatest friend and for all that you do for others.
Lae'zel
She knows being a leader is hard and there are many challenges you must step up to. People will constantly seek your help and look to you for advice. She has seen it by many of her githyanki superiors and thought nothing of it. And then she finds you cracking.
Tells you that as a leader, you can't show your cracks or you'll be seen as vulnerable to enemy attacks. While at camp, rest as much as you need. She'll keep watch while you let out whatever emotions that you need to.
Will also remind you, that you're her leader. You don't lead all the people you come across on the road, you owe them nothing. Technically, you owe Lae'zel nothing as well, you have the freedom to choose what to do, morals be damned.
Wyll
He notices the cracks and he fully understands. Hell, he sold his soul to a devil because he was failing. You're allowed to break down. You're allowed to rest.
While Wyll, likes the idea of helping anyone in need, even he knows that it can be too much. A lot has happened to all of you in a very short span of time, he understands needing to rest.
He considers you a good friend and ally and if you'd allow him, he'd be glad to take the lead and let you rest. He can at least listen to those you come across and offer them comfort if you're too drained to do so.
Taglist:
@reo-the-leo @unhelpfulnpc
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sugar-omi · 1 month
Note
I don’t think I read cove putting on a condom in that virginity loss post. Do I sense Cove having to awkwardly buy MC plan b? 😏😏🤭
[part 1]
listen. it's up for interpretation✋️😌🤚 maybe the parents left some rubbers in the house bc who KNOWS what'll happen. but that's exactly what i was thinking too🤭
you're both too eager to even think rationally, logically.
by the time he's ruined you with his tongue and stretched you open with his fingers, and the thought finally occurs to you two, you can't just let him go.
you promise him it'll be okay, that it's just one time and today should be safe. that you can just get a plan B and it'll be alright
his brain is too fogged to even disagree. because right now, his dick throbbing at the thought of losing his virginity raw. especially with you. to even think about all the lectures his parents gave, or even think about the consequences and how complicated his feelings are as a big fay teenage accident
tries to put up a bit of resistance, asks if you're sure. if you're really sure.
please don't try to reason with him by saying "well, if we do it raw the first time, i won't get curious when doing it with anyone else..."
because now he has to agree.
because fuck. what if the temptation is just as strong now, as down the line. what if he's too dazed to think straight. maybe, just maybe, feeling how hot and wet your pussy is around his cock will give him a bit of reason if he ever has sex with someone else..
finally he'd just growl lowly, curses and says "okay, fuck.. okay..." because now you've won him over. he can't go back now
thinks he's ruined just when the tip of his cock alone pushes past your entrance, that this is it. he's totally fucking pussy drunk for the rest of his life. there's no way he'll ever be able to recover for the feeling of your tight cunt squeezing around him, your legs and arms tangled around him and your thighs trembling and squeezing around his hips
all he'll be able to think of for the rest of his life will be how your eyes rollback, how they they flutter, and how his name sounds on your lips, all breathy and soft and whiny. it's a fucking symphony and he needs you to keep singing it
pants and inhales like he's running a fucking marathon with every cm and every inch of cock he sinks into you.
he's not small, and he hopes he stretched you enough, and of your hymn is still intact before now, he really hopes this doesn't hurt you too much.
it's so suffocating and hot. and even with tears welling up in your eyes, a tear or two running down your cheeks, he can't help but feel so fucking happy that you're under him like this, clinging onto him. whining and moaning his name. crying about his dick, how he's too fucking thick to fit inside you, how he's nudging your cervix once he's fully inside...
tries to ignore it but he's so happy you're doing this with him.
what if some other asshole had you under him like this. and then ran off and bragged, embarrassing you. or shamed you when you fought for how you cried and clung onto them like a needy whore
really tries to ignore the primalness rising in his chest. but fuck he has to admit his confidence is getting bigger by the second. has been ever since you said he's the only guy you trust to take your virginity and not regret it. that if you had a choice, you'd give it to him.
he's never cared about the whole virginity thing, and purity and all that... just wanted it to be with someone he trusted, and he's glad you feel the same
but now that you're here.. fuck it's flipped a switch inside him
right now, he doesn't know if he wants to give you up. your bodies are connected now.. you're taking him to the hilt, crying his name, and begging him for more.
just minutes ago you begged him to make you cum on his face.
he doesn't want anyone else to see that.
but that's so selfish, and disgusting. you're not even dating. this is just.. both of you taking precautions to not regret your first sexual experience
but fuck.. fuck if he doesn't feel like your souls are connected at this point. if he doesn't feel like you own a piece of him now..
which in fact. you do. and he does too.
he's the first to see you so vulnerable, so intimately.
no one else has seen you like this. you haven't called anyone else's name in that sultry voice and he's the first person besides yourself to make you cum.
he owns those firsts. and you own the same from him.
it's not like it's the first thing you've ever done together, really it shouldn't be this fucking life changing.
but not all best friends tell each other they want the other to pop their cherry, and not all best friends beg the other to please put it in, that that's enough and you're ready for it.
not all best friends moan out each others name, leav dark hickeys on each other, and definitely don't hold hands and kiss like lovers as they gently fuck into the other friend..
God he hopes he's your only best friend. at least the only best friend who can do this to you.
you're hardly accustomed to the intrusion before he picks up the pace. he had just kissed the tears off your cheeks and told you it's okay, he has you, you're doing so good..
and now he's slamming his hips down, his body weight pushing you into the mattress, and his face is buried in your neck, muttering apologies in your ear as if that'll make up for his cock bullying your sensitive, deflowered insides
you're so sensitive from your previous orgasms, and this is a whole new sensation. it's too much, he's so mean, but if he really was that mean, why is he holding your hand and kissing you, squeezing his hand between your body to rub your clit...
cove's always so sweet, so you can forgive him for being a bit of a bully tonight. even if your cervix and pussy is so tender afterwards, you can get over it because fuck it's too good to be mad at him
he's hitting all those spots you can't reach with your fingers, his cock dragging along every spot and his fat cock top nudging that delicious spot between your walls
he thinks he's gone to heaven when you lock your legs around him, begging him to keep hitting that spot. of course, he obliges, adjusting his knees and trying to keep a god rhythm as he fucks into that spot that has you crying so loudly, your nails dragging down his back...
you feel so fucking good.. and he groans when he looks between your bodies and see the creamy ring around his cock, strings of slick and cum connecting your pussy to his abdomen and the mess is all over both of your guys thighs.
it's sloppy. and dirty. dirtier than those sloppy French kisses you engaged in earlier, and cove didn't think he could get any harder until right now
between the mess and the way your pussy clings to his cock, the obscene shlicking noises, the way your cunt accepts him and gushes around him like you're made for him, and he's made for you..
he can't hold it anymore. especially when you cry as you cum around his cock, your legs locking behind his back ad your ego him to keep going.
cages you in his arms as he uses your pussy to bring him over the edge, running tight circles around your clit.
you're not letting up, even when he says he's gonna cum, that he should cum outside.. fuck it probably doesn't matter if he pulls out at this point.
all the pre cum his fat, pretty cock drooled inside your pussy, and if you made him cum before you went all the way, his cock was already sticky and wet with his semen, it's far too late to be cautious now.
his eyes roll back and flutter shut when he cums, groaning and he can't help but bite into your shoulder, not even thinking twice about it whole he dumps his fat, thick load inside your poor cunt..
he's totally painting your walls white, and it's spilling out around his cock.. you didn't think he could cum so much, didn't think it'd be possible..
it'll definitely be impossible to clean out later. you can feel how thick and clingy his cum is, you're going to be fingering and scooping out cum fron your sensitive guts for so long...
you have to ignore that dark part of you that says his cum is perfect for getting you pregnant. that it'd fill your womb up so nicely, that if it didn't take the first time it'd be a fucking miracle.
you choking around the primal urges filling up your chest, your brain.. you have to get him off you before you beg him to fuck you again. before a second round turns to three, than four...
you've been so irresponsible. but at least you can curse yourself about that instead of having your first times with assholes, right?
and at least cove will buy the plan B himself, or at least pass you the money for it. he's still a better gentleman than any other guy out there, so you definitely can't be mad about your first time...
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allfearstofallto · 2 months
Note
Could I please have Nsfw alphabet B, F, K, O for Lyney?
Apparently Lyney is a fan favorite for this one!! I'm glad people think I wrote him okay!!
Lyney x Fem! Reader
TW: 18+ MDNI, body worship, cum eating, unprotected sex, finishing inside, exhibitionism, oral (f. receiving), overstimulation
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B ody part - Their favorite body on themselves and on their partner
Such a thin waist, it'd be a shame to not show it off. Lyney loves his stomach, his midriff, his abdomen, whatever you prefer to call it. Such a lean build means his gorgeous body is androgynous, his soft stomach and small waist doing nothing but drawing attention. He loves to lift his shirt to tease you, to show you how soft and beautiful his skin is beneath his clothes. He wants you to grab him by the waist, to hold him there while you worship his body.
On your body though, his interest is lower. Those plush thighs of yours drive him absolutely insane. He can't help but to grab and squeeze them, to sink his fingers into the fat of them. He loves resting his head on them as you pat his head or spreading them and burying his face in their warmth. Slicking them up with his saliva and rubbing his cock between them, using the thickness of them to make himself cum and then licking it off of your flesh.
F avorite position - This goes without saying
You on top is like a work of art. He wouldn't have it any other way. He's so used to being the one putting on shows, that having you do one for him has him cumming without much resistance.
Your hands planted on his chest, your breasts bouncing, your plush thighs on top of his. If he lasts even more than a minute inside you like this, you know something's wrong. All you have to do is sink down onto his cock on top of him, and he's singing out words of praise, telling you how close he is to filling you up and how beautiful you are. Truly a sight to behold.
K ink - One or more of their kinks
An exhibitionist at heart, he loves to be seen, that's with or without you of course. If you're watching he's satisfied, and if he's pounding into you from behind, making you go dumb on his cock, he wouldn't mind a few eyes on him as well. Knowing that someone is seeing him perform gets him going, it makes him fuck you harder and faster, makes him cum quicker but still keep going.
He loves the act of strip teasing. Taking off all your clothes at once is so boring, isn't it? Make it slow. Sensual. He wants to eye up each individual piece of flesh that is exposed after the clothing is removed, he wants to take you in slowly. And he wants to do the same to him. Praise his body as he undresses and he'll praise yours. Words of affirmation going back and forth until the both of your are so desperate to touch each other, that the moment you finally do, it's like animals rutting.
O ral - Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.
Always a giver he is, and he absolutely loves it. His tongue isn't only for gaining the attention of a crowd, he knows exactly what he's doing down there. Lyney can and will talk you through it, lapping at your folds, he'll tell you just how good you taste just for him, and how he'll keep tasting until you can only say his name.
He loves to eat while you're sitting on his face, thighs on his head and the weight of your body comforting him. Lyney loves the way your cunt drips down into his mouth. Heaven is between your legs, he says, and heaven should be clenching around his tongue. He won't let you leave, no, not while he's enjoying his meal. His vice like grip on your legs is tight, keeping your there and his skillful tongue forces another orgasm from your body.
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Text
complicated
bucky barnes x reader
summary: things had been uncomplicated between Bucky and you, then things ended. Now he’s seeing you again after months and he realizes he never wanted things to end. Do you feel the same?
“...and if my wishes came true, it would have been you.”
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Sirens rang in Bucky’s ears; the flashing lights illuminated his face as he stared straight ahead. Agents’ mule around in the background as Sam talks to a few – Bucky never did the talking and he was glad about it, especially now. He hadn’t seen you in what felt like years, but months would be more accurate. You stood tall but looked stressed; hands firm on your hips as you listened to what he assumed was a subordinate. Nodding as they spoke to you, he didn’t know your division was working on this case too. But why would he? He wasn’t a man in the loop, and he liked it that way; Sam was the one that did the planning and arranging, he just showed up for the job.
Bucky couldn’t stop staring, everything around him went dark and it was like there was a spotlight shining down on you. Face stern, hair brushed back behind ears. He knew the look of concentration on your face and for a moment, he smiled. His head ached a bit, he had been bleeding from his head earlier but now everything was dried and matted on his skin.
“You’re staring too hard.”
Bucky blinked and looked at his partner. “You didn’t tell me she would be here.”
Sam shrugged. “Need to know basis, remember?”
Right, his own policy.
“You should go say hi at least, better than staring like a stalker.”
“Shut up, Sam.”
Bucky frowned when his friend patted him hard on the back, leaving him to his brooding. He stood among the crowd of agents, deciding on whether it would be okay to say hello. The two of you hadn’t talked in so long and the last time you did, things didn’t feel right. It wasn’t like you were a couple, it had never gotten that serious. Things hadn’t gotten the chance to even become serious – workload and ambition had gotten the best of you, he tried to be understanding. While you were in this lifestyle for want, he just was around because what else was someone like him to do?
It started off innocently enough – flirtation over beers, blowing off steam with Sam and others in the field. A gang of friends turned family, but things never got complicated. A kiss led to another than he had you in his bed, sometimes in your bed and most times, in hotels while on the job. It had been light, free, and sweet. Then he started to get attached, he felt himself going in a direction that didn’t seem to even cross your mind. Bucky started to crave you in ways more than sex; he wanted to hold your hand, share a meal with you, scratch your back until you fell asleep beside him.
It started to feel dangerously close to love and it scared him.
The sirens died down and that’s when you noticed him. Bucky’s heart flinched when you met his gaze and he couldn’t bring himself to smile, even as you started towards him. His eyes followed your every step and when you finally stood in front of him, he still couldn’t smile.
“Bucky.”
He wanted to smile then, but he just asked how you were. Your face softened; a sigh rolled off your shoulders. “Tired as shit. I’m glad this case is over; I need a vacation.”
The notion of you vacationing finally made him crack and he smirked. “Have you ever taken a vacation?”
“Yeah, when I was twelve.”
Bucky stared at you and then the two of you shared a laugh, and it felt wonderful. It felt like air finally whistled down his lungs and he could breathe. You grinned and touched his shoulder, smile fading as your eyes fell. His shoulders slumped as he held your arm by the elbow, asking what was wrong. It could see it in your face, that you were crumbling from the inside. He recognized the look because he saw it every morning in the mirror.
Your fingers touched the lapel of his leather jacket. “I’m sorry…”
Voice quiet, shameful.
He stood quietly among the noise.
“…I was scared because things were starting to feel different. I started to feel differently about you, Bucky.”
Oh, he frowned. This is where you were going to break his heart. You were going to explain why you had stopped taking his calls, ‘ghosting’ him as Sam explained. Even stopped talking cases with the pair, switching agencies to get away from him. His mouth dried as you looked at him and he wanted to walk away, cover his ears. He didn’t want to hear what you had to say because then he couldn’t go on with his delusion. That you just weren’t ready, that if circumstances had been different, the two of you would be together today.
That everything would be different.
“I was falling in love with you…”
The word love struck him awake and all his senses warmed his body, catching your hand as it fell from his jacket. His fingers gripped around your wrist and his eyes examined your face – trying to understand what you were saying to him, right to his face.
“…I didn’t think you felt the same, we always kept things uncomplicated, and I thought you liked it that way. That’s why I stopped coming around.”
“Shit.”
The word slipped through his lips, and he was instantly annoyed at himself, but you laughed. “Shit? We haven’t seen each other in months, and I just poured my heart out to you – in front of all these people, mind you and all you can say is shit?”
Bucky dipped his head back and took a deep breath, holding onto your hand so you wouldn’t dare leave. He wasn’t going to let you leave his life again, not ever again. Warming his smile, he carefully pulled you closer as if that would give the two of you some privacy. He reached for your face with both hands and grinned.
“I want complicated.”
Your chest ached in delight. “You do?”
Words careful and concerned.
Bucky nodded, face serious. “I love you and I’ve missed you.”
Forgetting that you were a known hard ass among your peers, you practically leaped into Bucky’s arms. He embraced you, lifting your feet off the ground and holding you tight against his body. His warmth engulfed you and all you could do is think of a vacation with him. Lounging in bed, talking walks on the street – hand in hand. Sharing meals and falling asleep to the feeling of his fingers dragging against your back. All the things you had been earning for all these months, were finally going to come to fruition; and when his lips brushed against yours, you didn’t care if the whole world was watching.
Pulling your head back after a moment, you beamed at Bucky.  “I love you too.”
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cuubism · 2 months
Text
physical therapy, part 6.
--
Hob's been wavering on things like timeline with Dream because, well, he doesn't want to push, but he does obviously want more. There's a lot that he wants, and he thinks Dream wants it too. But Hob can be patient. Definitely. For sure. He's the epitome of patience.
In any case, after a few more dates which are oh so very patient, and in which Dream seems to be gradually coming more and more out of his shell, Hob finally takes the plunge and texts him:
If you want, come over to my place this weekend and I'll cook for you, and adds his address.
He paces nervously while waiting for a response. Dream coming over... he doesn't know how that would end. Well, it would hopefully at least end in Dream eating a proper meal, but other than that...
It's really not so long before he gets a response, though it feels like an eternity.
Okay, writes Dream, with a smile. 🙂 Should I bring anything?
Just yourself, writes Hob.
A shame, for I was planning to arrive incorporeally.
Hob smiles to himself at the comment. Dream is so much brighter once he decides he’s allowed to be.
On the agreed-upon date, Hob spends a truly excessive amount of time getting ready. He’s not even cooking anything elaborate, as he felt convinced he’d wind up fucking it up out of nerves if he did. But really, the quality of his food isn’t the wild card. What he’s nervous about is Dream’s response to being in his home. To being alone. Whether he’ll be okay with it. He doesn’t want to make Dream nervous.
But Dream arrives on time, and he’s smiling when Hob opens the door. He’s also carrying a huge canvas.
Oh!” Hob says, distracted from even kissing him hello. “What have you got there?”
“It is for you,” Dream says, and turns the canvas around so Hob can see it.
It’s a large painting of a rather clever-looking cat, bright colors and bold swathes of paint. It reminds Hob of Dream’s finger paintings, actually, but far more precise in technique. It’s lovely. It’s so cute. And much more playful than Dream’s older art, the pieces he had shown Hob from before his injury.
“Oh, it’s gorgeous,”  he says, and Dream smiles shyly. “I take it your grip’s been feeling steadier, then?”
“Somewhat,” Dream says, following Hob deeper into the flat, as Hob takes the painting and sets it on top of a low bookshelf, propped against the wall. Later he’ll have to hang it up properly. “I am. Enjoying painting again. I think.”
It’s so good to hear. Each time Hob sees Dream he seems incrementally better. Less frozen. More outgoing. And it always makes Hob realize that he’s only gotten to see a fraction of the life that truly exists inside of him.
“I’m so glad to hear that, darling,” he says.
It hurts to think of the version of Dream that might have been there before being hurt. But Hob likes the Dream that he gets to know now.
He leads Dream into the kitchen and bids him to sit down at the table while Hob serves their food, which is staying warm on the stove. Normally, when he invites someone over, he’d offer them wine, but he doesn’t want Dream to get the wrong idea. God, he’s probably massively overthinking things. He’s being totally paranoid, he knows it. But it feels so important that it be right. He’d never forgive himself if he made Dream feel unsafe around him, even if it was by accident.
“I am curious what you’ve prepared to attempt to persuade me to change my habits,” Dream says, after taking a sip of the water Hob’s handed him.
“Something with a lot of butter,” Hob says, and Dream laughs softly. Dream needs it, though. He needs something that’ll stick to his bones.
What he has is tarragon chicken—fried in, truly, an excessive amount of butter—served over rice with string beans. If this can’t encourage Dream to eat real meals, nothing can.
And, gratifyingly, he’s right. Dream devours it, and has seconds. As he eats his own serving more sedately Hob wonders when the last time was that somebody actually cooked for him.
They barely even talk, but Hob doesn’t mind. He just wants Dream to eat.
“You can cook,” Dream says, and Hob laughs.
“Was that in question?”
A light blush graces Dream’s cheeks. “When you first mentioned cooking for me, I had the thought that you were a catch. For that reason among others.”
Hob can’t help himself from smiling—and perhaps blushing a bit, too. “I’ll have to keep it up, and maybe you’ll keep me.”
Dream looks down at his food, but murmurs, “I would like to.”
So Hob takes his hand on the table and squeezes it.
Later in the evening, when they’ve been ensconced on the couch for a while watching mindless telly, Dream’s head on his shoulder, Hob says, “You can stay over if you want. No expectations. Just don’t want you walking home in the dark.”
He’ll walk Dream home if that’s what he really wants, but it’s already midnight and it really might be easier to just stay put.
“Am I allowed to stay over in your bed?” Dream asks, and Hob’s pulse jumps.
“That’s what you want?”
Dream nods.
So, heart still beating hard, Hob says, “Alright. Come on, then.”
And Dream takes his hand as Hob draws him up.
He gets Dream situated with some of his pajamas, which are far too large on him, and with a spare toothbrush and so on, and when they’re finally ready he tries not to be too awkward or nervous as he climbs into bed and gestures Dream to follow, saying, “Come on, love.”
He expects Dream might hesitate, but he doesn’t, just crawls into bed after him and presses himself all up against Hob’s body, laying his head on Hob’s chest. And— God. He’s really decided that he trusts Hob. It puts a lump in Hob’s throat.
He feels like a fucking teenager again, stomach all fluttery just at the feeling of Dream lying against him. In past relationships, Hob had mostly jumped in sex-first, questions-later. But maybe there are more benefits to taking things slow than he thought. It makes every tiny thing feel monumental.
“Comfortable?” he asks, and Dream nods, hair brushing Hob’s chin.
“Yes, thank you.”
Hob pulls the blankets up over them, pets his hair. Dream lets out a long, happy sigh, and snuggles closer.
I’m going to keep you, Hob thinks. “Goodnight, Dream,” he says.
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waitimcomingtoo · 6 months
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SLUT!
chapter four: they took the crown but it’s all all right
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In the morning, Peter was the first to wake up. He was wondering why he hadn’t heard the sound of Neds ten different alarms going off until he opened his eyes. He saw the glow in the dark stars on your ceiling and remembered he was in your dorm. He sat up and little and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes just as you were waking up. You sat up and scrunched your nose in disgust.
“We smell like the locker room at a public pool.” You said, making Peter laugh through his yawn.
“Yeah. We probably should’ve showered the chlorine off before going to bed.”
“Yes. We should have. But it was nice to wake up to some company nonetheless.” You smiled sleepily and leaned in to kiss him.
“Sorry. Morning breath.” He said once you pulled away.
“It’s okay. It was worth it.” You laughed before getting out of your bed. Peter watched you move around your room as you collected some things with a sleepy smile on his face. He could not believe he had just woken up in a girls bed after falling asleep beside her. He’d never been this close with a girl so to know you trusted him enough to be around him in your pajamas and messy hair meant a lot to him. He’d finally found someone he connected with and he was so glad it was you.
“I’ll be right back. I’m gonna shower really quick. You stay here.” You said and kissed him one last time before leaving. You came back shortly with wet hair hanging around your face.
“What time is your first class?” Peter asked as he stood up from the bed.
“10. You?”
“I don’t have anything until 1.” He replied.
“Do you want to meet up after class?” You asked and wrapped your arms around his neck.
“Always.” Peter scoffed playfully. You grinned and pecked his lips one last time before leaving your dorm room together. You left the building and heading towards Peters dorm so that he could shower before class. As soon as you left your dorm lobby, you saw Brad Davis on his way to an early morning practice. He looked between you and Peter and faked a loud laugh.
“Oh, no way.” Brad laughed obnoxiously. “What do we have here?”
“God damn it.” You groaned. “Why are you everywhere? How small is this stupid campus?”
“Wow, Y/n. Can’t say I’m surprised to see you on a walk of shame.” Brad said and looked you up and down judgmentally.
“It’s not a walk of shame. I’m literally just walking out of my own dorm.” You pointed out.
“Yeah. With this guy. What happened? You ran through all the athletes so you had to start banging the nerds?” Brad asked and gestured to Peter.
“What did you just say to her?” Peter snapped as he stepped between you and Brad. You raised your eyebrows in surprise at the sight of your sweet, innocent Peter raising his voice at someone. Even Brad was intimidated by Peters tone and took a step back.
“What did she tell you? That she’ll sleep with you if you do her homework? That’s her move, you know. That’s what she does with every guy. So don’t go thinking you’re special.” Brad said with less confidence this time.
“Brad, you have no place calling me a slut. You have ten times the amount of bodies I do. And aren’t you the one responsible for giving half the rowing team the clap?” You asked him, making his eyes darken. He stepped up to you and you felt anxiety build up in the pit of your stomach.
“You better watch it, skank. At least I don’t whore myself out to any guy-“
“That’s enough.” Peter cut Brad off as he stepped between the two of you.
“Dude, who do you think you are? Don’t touch me.” Brad laughed in Peters face and tried to push past him to get to you.
“No, you’re not gonna get near her. I don’t like the way you talk to and about my girlfriend. So back up.” Peter said as he gently but firmly pushed Brad back a little. Brad looked furious at first until he processed what Peter had said. He looked at you and realized you and Peter were holding hands, making his face crumble.
“Girlfriend? Is this guy serious? You’re not actually dating, are you?” Brad asked you and sounded genuinely hurt.
“We are. We started off as friends and fell for each other. You’d know a little something about falling for a friend, wouldn’t you? Only in this case, I liked him back.” You replied. Brad narrowed his eyes at you and Peter could tell that really hurt him to hear. Instead of Brad retaliating with more insults, he just shrugged.
“Whatever.” He scoffed and bumped your shoulder as he walked away.
“And you wonder why I didn’t want you.” You called after him.
“SLUT!” Brad loudly shouted in response. People turned their heads to look not at the guy shouting in the morning, but at the girl he was shouting at. You felt hot tears of embarrassment well in your eyes and pulled Peter by the hand until you were in the boys dorm lobby. You sat down and put your face in your hands and rubbed them uo and down. Peter sat beside you and put his hand on your back to comfort you. You wiped your face off the stray tears that had fallen and laughed sadly.
“Do you know how many times I’ve been called that word? I don’t know why it still hurts me. I should be used to it by now.”
“Well, it’s like getting punched in the face. No matter how many times it happens, it’s always gonna hurt.” Peter replied, making you laugh more genuinely this time.
“You sound like you’re speaking from experience. Have you been punched in the face many times?” You asked him with a raised eyebrow.
“There’s a lot you don’t know about me.” Peter answered, making you laugh once again. Peter once again demonstrated his way of easing the pain of the words they threw at you.
“Why does Brad hate you so much?” Peter asked once you were calmed down. You sighed and looked at Peter, knowing it was time he heard the full story.
“Brad and I used to be friends. He was my first friend at college, actually. We had the same schedule freshman year so I saw him everyday. Then we started hanging out on weekends. That’s when you know you’ve crossed over from college friends to actual friends.“
“Really? I can’t imagine you being friends with a guy like that.”
“Believe it or not, he used to be a really good friend.”
“Seriously? Brad was?” Peter scoffed in disbelief.
“I know. I wouldn’t believe it either. But he wasn’t always like the way he is now.”
“Well what happened between you guys to make him act like that?”
“It happened over time. Brad had a huge crush on me freshman year. I didn’t know that until much later. He used to he really nice and funny but once he joined the basketball team, it was game over. He was still friendly to me over text but when his teammates were around, he was someone else.” You began but then stopped. You were picking at your nails again and Peter could tell you were remembering something you didn’t want to remember.
“You don’t have to tell me.” Peter said softly and put his hand over yours.
“I do, though.” You told him. “It’s my story. And if I don’t tell you, someone else will. And it will be all wrong. I need to tell you exactly what happened.”
“So tell me.” Peter said kindly, making you sigh again.
“I went to one of Brad’s games one night because he invited me. It was at some point in the middle of the basketball season and he hadn’t been playing very well lately. I knew it was really stressing him out so I went to cheer for him. I thought it would make him feel better, you know? Anyway, we were talking on a court after the game and his teammates came up to us. They asked if I was his girlfriend and started to tease us, which I pretty much expected. But then one of them asked me if I hadn’t “put out” in a while and that’s why Brad was so distracted during the games.”
“What? Who said that to you?” Peter asked as his nose scrunched in disdain.
“Some senior.” You shrugged. “He’s graduated now. I don’t even remember his name.”
“Yes you do.” Peter could tell.
“Jackson.” You admitted and gave Peter a sheepish smile.
“Always a J name.” Peter grumbled and slapped his hand on the table. You laughed softly but your smile slowly faded as you remembered that day.
“I was 17. That guy was like 22. Everyone laughed. I was mortified.” You said quietly.
“Of course you were. Who wouldn’t be? What kind of weirdo would say that to a 17 year old girl they had just met? And what did Brad say?”
“He said, “yeah, look what you’re doing to my game”, and smacked my ass.” You recalled. Peters eyebrows went up and he looked over his shoulder out the window to see Brad. He was laughing with some guys out in the middle of campus, putting a feeling of rage inside Peter. Brad got to walk around campus and laugh with his friends while you had to walk fast to avoid getting harassed. He felt angry that Brad had put his hands on you. He felt angry that no one stood up for you. He felt angry that you were innocent in the situation but you had been the one that became an outcast because of it.
“What happened after that?” Peter asked as he turned back to you. He could tell from the look in your eyes that you were still in that moment, still in the gym when it all went down.
“After that, he laughed. Then they all laughed. At me. Brad was looking at me and I knew he instantly regretted it, but he didn’t say anything so I didn’t say anything either. But I didn’t even know what to say. I was totally frozen. I wanted to stick up for myself but they were all older and I was alone in the gym with them. I was worried if I fired back, they’d make me pay for it.”
“I’m sorry you ever had to feel that way.” Peter frowned as he eyebrows knit together. He’d been bullied plenty of times himself, but he never had to worry about sexual violence in the way you did.
“Brad was different after that. I forgave him and we didn’t talk about it because I didn’t know any better at the time. But then he started to be like that all the time. He would make fun of me in front of them to get a laugh and then shoot me a text later saying he hoped I didn’t “take offense” to it. He wouldn’t defend me if his friends made a comment about my body or my appearance and eventually, he started doing the same.”
“That seems more like the Brad I know.” Peter mumbled and thought back to his high school days of watching Brad tease the girls on the cheerleading team with jokes that made them deeply uncomfortable.
“Trust me. He’s way worse than whatever you saw in high school. It’s like there’s no rules in college. There’s no principle to report to so people like Brad can get away with way more. He and his friends get to say whatever they want to me and nobody stops them.”
“I’ve seen it. It’s frustrating for me to watch so I can’t even imagine how it feels for you to be the one experiencing it.”
“It feels terrible. And hopeless. And overwhelming. All things he never has to feel.”
“What was he talking that day about when he called you a homie hopper?” Peter wondered.
“Ah, yes. He does love to throw that term around. He’s been throwing that at me for three years now. That’s where I get my reputation.” You smiled tightly. “Towards the end of freshman year, Brad asked me out. I said no, obviously, and he got mad when I rejected him. I guess he thought that despite the way he treated me and what he let our friendship become, I’d still be interested in him? I don’t know. But he got so mad at me because I guess he felt embarrassed. I wounded his manhood or whatever.”
“God forbid.” Peter rolled his eyes.
“I know, right? So to get back at me, he told his friends we hooked up but that I couldn’t get him off. Then his friends naturally started telling people I was bad in bed. And when people asked how they knew that, they’d say they had slept with me too and that it was a horrible experience. Gwen’s boyfriend, the one I told you about, is Harry. He told her that I slept with him, which never even happened, and now she hates me. She told my team and they spread it even more. So suddenly, I was 18 and my whole school thought I had slept my way through the basketball team and left them all dissatisfied. Meanwhile, I’d never even had my first kiss. But once a rumor like that gets around, no one cares about the truth. The truth wasn’t nearly as interesting. And it just gave way to all other kinds of rumors. People said I had all these diseases and stole all these boyfriends. They would whisper about me behind my back and eventually they started saying things to my face. Boys hated me. Girls hated me. No one wanted to be my friend. I couldn’t walk to class without someone yelling “slut” at me. It replaced my name my whole sophmore year. I’ve been a total pariah ever since. It’s not as bad now but my reputation stuck. I’ll always be the campus slut.”
Peter felt his heart sink when he heard the very words Ned had used to describe you the first time Peter talked about you. He knew it was bad, but he didn’t know it was that bad. He reached forward to wipe your tears and you smiled softly at him.
“Why didn’t you tell everyone that those boys were lying?” Peter wondered.
“You don’t think I tried? I tried to clear my name but women aren’t exactly known for being believed in situations like this. Or, any situation, actually. Me being a slut was the far more interesting story. So that’s what everyone chose to believe. I can’t shake this reputation until I graduate. They’ll always call me a slut.” You shrugged at your accepted fate.
“I’d never call you that.” Peter assured you as he put his hands on top of yours. You smiled and put your hand on top of Peters
“I know you wouldn’t.” You nodded. “Being with you makes me feel brand new. You’re the first guy who’s ever liked me for me, not because of what you think you can get from me. You make it all easier to bear. All the names they call me fade to nothing when I look at you.”
Peter put his hand on your cheek and brought your face closer to his so he could look into your eyes.
“None of them deserve you. They never did.” He said very seriously.
“They don’t.” You agreed. “But I think you do.”
Your conversation was interrupted by the laughter of some boys nearby. You looked over and saw a mixture of some of Brads friends and other boys who you had never actually spoken to but still liked to throw insults at you whenever they got the chance. They were looking at you and Peter and laughed amongst themselves. Instead of getting upset, you turned to Peter and leaned in to kiss him to show them that you didn’t care anymore. Peter pulled back slightly before your lips could touch and you felt your heart sink.
“You don’t want to be seen with me?” You asked quietly.
“It’s not that. It’s not that at all.” Peter quickly assured you. “I just don’t want to make things any worse for you by being seen with me. If those boys see us, won’t they call you a slut?”
Your eyes flicked back to the guys, who were all still staring with amused faces. Being seen with a boy would definitely fuel their war towards you, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care anymore.
“They might.” You agreed. “But you know what? It might be worth it for once.”
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