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halfmoonaria · 2 days ago

Text

ignorant

pairing: cairo sweet & reader

summary: you are the next victim for the evil of cairo sweet, but this time it’s not planned.

word count: 6k

author’s note: somebody asked for more cairo sweet and i’ll deliver

Cairo Sweet was toxic.

Everybody at school knew it, whispered it, even feared it. It wasn't because she'd ever laid a finger on anyone—Cairo didn't need to.

She had a way of ruining people without touching them, a kind of quiet, deliberate destruction that made her dangerous in ways no one wanted to test.

Her manipulation was an art form, her lies sharp enough to shred reputations into confetti. A few well-placed rumors, a convincing performance, and she could have someone blacklisted.

Jobs, scholarships, futures—they all crumbled under the weight of her fabrications. Being on Cairo's bad side was like being branded: the stain followed you wherever you went.

People had seen it happen before. Just last year, Mr. Miller had been the unfortunate target. A teacher with a spotless reputation, gone in an instant.

A single accusation from Cairo had shattered his career. The truth? It didn't matter. Cairo's version of the story had been louder, more convincing.

Even when whispers of her exaggerations began to circulate, it was too late for him. By then, she'd moved on, leaving destruction in her wake like it was nothing.

You'd heard it all, of course. Everyone had.

The looks she got in the halls said enough—half awe, half terror. But what you could never figure out, no matter how much you watched her, was whether she enjoyed it.

Did she like that people were scared of her? Did it give her some twisted sense of power? Or did she just not care? Maybe, in some corner of her mind, she felt guilty. But if she did, you'd never know it.

And yet, despite everything you knew—despite all the warnings, the stories, the very real possibility that she could ruin you too—you found yourself getting pulled in. If that's even what you'd call it.

It all started one afternoon after English class. You'd been shoving your notebook into your bag when Cairo appeared beside your desk, casual as if it wasn't the first time she'd ever spoken to you directly.

"Hey, you mind if I grab a picture of your notes? I missed a few things."

The request wasn't surprising—everyone in English class talked to each other, especially when it came to assignments or study guides.

You'd even exchanged a word or two with her before, though only ever about coursework. She wasn't unapproachable, not exactly. Just... untouchable. Like someone you didn't dare get too close to for fear of the inevitable fallout.

"Sure," you said, slipping the notebook out again and holding it toward her.

She gave you a brief, unreadable smile, one corner of her mouth tugging upward as she pulled out her phone and started snapping pictures.

"Thanks," she murmured, her tone flat but not unfriendly. She didn't walk away immediately, though. Instead, she lingered, flipping through the pages like she was checking for anything she might've missed.

"You always this neat?" she asked suddenly, her eyes flicking to you.

You blinked, caught off guard by what sounded almost like a compliment. "Uh, I guess."

"You should see mine," she said with a dry laugh, tucking her phone back into her pocket. "It's a miracle I can even read them."

You knew that wasn’t true.

It wasn't much, but it was the first real conversation you'd had with her that wasn't about group projects or exam prep.

Cairo had a way of making even the smallest interactions feel like something bigger, like a spark catching on dry leaves. It was enough to leave you wondering as you walked out of class that day why she'd bothered talking to you at all.

After that, it was little things. A nod of acknowledgment when you passed in the halls.

A quick "Hey" when she slid into the seat beside you before class started. And then, somehow, it became more. She'd catch you after school, asking about homework or offering a ride home if it was raining. You told yourself it was nothing—she was just being nice, or at least her version of it.

But the truth was, you couldn't help noticing the way her attention made you feel.

Like she saw something in you that no one else had. It wasn't long before those fleeting interactions turned into something else entirely: Cairo waiting for you after class with that same unreadable smirk, Cairo texting you late at night asking if you were up, Cairo pulling you into her orbit in a way that felt effortless.

You told yourself you should've known better. You'd heard all the stories, seen the aftermath of what she could do.

But every time you thought about walking away, you'd hear her voice in your head, low and teasing, or see the way she leaned a little closer than she needed to when she talked to you.

And then it went further.

It had started slowly. Cairo had begun finding reasons to linger after English class, asking about your interpretations of certain texts or how you'd structured your notes.

She hadn't needed the input—she was one of the best students in the subject, her essays always marked with the highest grades and her name consistently praised in class discussions.

At first, you had assumed it was just convenience; you were one of the only people who matched her level of effort. But the excuses had become more frequent, her attention more focused, until her presence became a constant thread in your life, woven in so seamlessly that you didn't even notice when it tightened.

The night she showed up at your door had felt inevitable, though you wouldn't have admitted it then.

Cairo had mentioned offhandedly how she preferred studying with someone else for perspective, and at the time, you'd barely registered it. But when she appeared, backpack slung over her shoulder, her expression calm and unbothered, it hadn't been a surprise.

There was no preamble, no hesitation. She had walked into your room with a confidence that felt natural, claiming space without even asking.

At first, it had been nothing out of the ordinary. Books and notes spread across your bed, Cairo sitting cross-legged across from you as the two of you discussed the upcoming exam.

Her questions were sharp, her observations even sharper. She had a way of speaking that made you feel like she already knew the answer but wanted to hear what you had to say anyway. You'd spent hours like that, trading ideas and bouncing thoughts back and forth, her handwriting neat and methodical as she jotted down lines in her notebook.

But at some point, the conversation had drifted. It wasn't abrupt, just a natural shift, like a tide rolling in without warning.

She'd asked about the books you read outside of class, about your favorite authors, your least favorite, and before you knew it, the two of you were sitting closer, your legs brushing as you talked. Her voice had softened, her gaze lingering on you with an intensity that made your heart race.

It had felt harmless at first. Cairo had always had a way of commanding attention, of drawing you in even when you knew better.

But when her hand brushed against yours, the air shifted. It was so subtle you almost convinced yourself it was accidental, but then her fingers lingered, trailing against your skin just enough to leave you breathless.

By the time she leaned in, it didn't feel sudden at all. Her lips had met yours with a deliberateness that left no room for hesitation, her hand sliding to the back of your neck as she deepened the kiss.

You'd known then that there was no going back, that this wasn't just another moment to file away under casual study sessions. Cairo had a way of making everything feel inevitable, like it was all a part of her plan from the beginning.

The hours after that had passed in a haze. The notes and textbooks had been forgotten, your conversations abandoned as Cairo pulled you closer, her body pressed against yours in a way that made you forget everything you'd ever heard about her.

She had been as deliberate as ever, her touch calculated but intoxicating, like she knew exactly how to make you fall apart and was savoring every second of it.

When it was over, the room had felt heavier, the silence punctuated only by the faint hum of your desk lamp. Cairo had stretched out beside you, her head resting on your pillow, her expression unreadable.

She hadn't said much, only reaching for her phone to check the time before pulling her shirt back on with the same calm, unbothered demeanor she always carried.

And just like that, she had left, her notebook tucked under her arm, her goodbye nothing more than a casual "See you tomorrow." As if nothing had happened. As if she hadn't just turned your entire world upside down and walked away without a second thought.

That was when it all started.

The whole rollercoaster.

One day, it was like you were the only person in her world—her texts coming in rapid bursts, her presence at your side like she couldn't bear to be away from you.

The next day, she'd barely say a word, her gaze sliding past you in the halls as if you were just another face in the crowd. Cairo had always been unpredictable, but now, it felt personal.

One moment, she'd pull you into a corner after class, her touch lingering on your wrist as she whispered something that made your chest tighten, and the next, she'd laugh with her friends right in front of you, not even sparing you a glance.

The day after you'd slept together, she had acted like it never happened. She'd sat next to you in English like always, her notebook open and her handwriting as neat as ever, answering the teacher's questions with her usual confidence.

But there had been no acknowledgment of the night before—no sly glance, no shared moment of understanding. Nothing.

You'd tried not to let it bother you. Cairo wasn't the type to wear her emotions on her sleeve, and maybe you'd expected too much.

But then, just when you thought you'd misread everything, she'd catch your eye in the hallway, her lips curling into a smirk that sent your thoughts spiraling. She'd brush against you in passing, her hand grazing your arm, leaving you wondering if it had been intentional or just a coincidence.

The cycle was maddening. Some days, she'd text you late at night, her messages full of inside jokes and clever observations that made you feel like you were the only person who truly understood her.

Other days, your phone would stay silent, and when you saw her at school, she'd talk to you like nothing had changed, her tone casual, her demeanor almost cold.

You'd tell yourself you wouldn't let it get to you, but it always did. Cairo had a way of pulling you in, her charm disarming even when you knew better.

She could make you feel special with a single glance, only to leave you questioning everything with her silence the next day. It was a push and pull, a constant tug-of-war that left you breathless and exhausted all at once.

There were moments when you thought she might care—when she'd show up at your door unannounced, her face softer than usual, asking if you wanted to go for a drive or watch something with her.

Those nights, she'd talk about things she rarely shared, her voice quiet as she told you about her childhood or the pressure she felt to always be in control. She'd lean her head on your shoulder, her fingers brushing against yours, and for a little while, it felt real. It felt like maybe she needed you as much as you needed her.

But then morning would come, and she'd slip back into the version of herself that kept everyone at arm's length. She'd thank you for letting her crash or for the coffee you'd made her, her tone light and detached, and by the time she walked out the door, it was like none of it had ever happened.

The inconsistency was suffocating, yet you couldn't bring yourself to let go. Every time she pulled away, you told yourself it was the last time, that you wouldn't let her back in. But then she'd flash you that crooked smile, or send you a text that made you laugh despite yourself, and all your resolve would crumble.

It wasn't just about the moments she was kind—it was the way she made you feel when she was. Like you were the exception, the one person who could get past the walls she'd built. It was intoxicating, even when it hurt, even when you knew you were only setting yourself up for disappointment.

Cairo never apologized, not really.

When she pulled you close again after days of silence, it wasn't with words but with gestures—a hand on your knee during class, a smirk as she slid into the seat beside you, a text at midnight that said nothing but still made you stay up just in case she sent another.

You told yourself you could handle it. That the highs were worth the lows, that maybe someday, she'd stop running, stop retreating into herself. But deep down, you knew the truth. Cairo was who she was—beautiful, magnetic, and devastatingly out of reach.

And yet, you stayed.

Some nights, the loneliness settled over you like a second skin, cold and suffocating. You'd sit with your phone in your hand, staring at the screen, waiting for her name to light up. It became a ritual—hoping, waiting, trying not to check the time too often because every glance at the clock only reminded you of how long it had been since you'd last heard from her.

It was always the same. Cairo's excuses blurred together over time, a monotonous loop that left you questioning why you still held on. They came hours later, always casual, laced with just enough indifference to remind you where you stood.

Sorry, I was showering.

That one had been her go-to more than once. You could still remember the times you waited, your phone always within reach, even when you shouldn't have been so eager.

Multiple times, you'd been in the shower yourself, the water cascading down your back as you heard the buzz of your phone over the noise. You'd reached out instinctively, nearly dropping it as you wiped your hand on a towel to see her message. The words stared back at you, plain and detached. You replied as always, that it was fine.

It wasn't. But what else was there to say?

Sorry, I had no battery on my phone.

That excuse always came with a hint of carelessness, as if she hadn't even noticed the hours you spent waiting for her reply.

You'd been sitting on the floor that time, your back against the bedframe, knees pulled to your chest. The outlet was too far from your bed, so you stayed there, tethered to the wall like some desperate, foolish thing.

The charger stretched just enough for your phone to stay on, its faint glow illuminating your face. Her message arrived eventually, and you'd stared at it for a long moment, the words twisting something inside you. Still, you'd typed your response. It's fine.

Sorry, I was out with Winnie.

She always mentioned Winnie like she were some unspoken priority, a reminder that you were never really part of her world.

That particular excuse had come while you were in the back seat of a car, squished between your friends as they shouted along to your favorite song.

Their joy felt distant, like a muffled sound through thick glass. You'd glanced at your phone, your heart sinking as you read her words. It didn't matter that you were surrounded by people who cared about you—it only mattered that Cairo didn't. Your reply had been quick, almost automatic. It's fine. But the lump in your throat told a different story.

Sorry, I had class.

That one had come during History once, during a class you'd only chosen because she was in it too. Your phone had vibrated on your desk, and you'd snatched it up quickly, your pulse quickening at the sight of her name.

But the message itself had been underwhelming, just another half-hearted apology. You'd barely had time to respond before the teacher's shadow loomed over you, her hand outstretched to confiscate your phone. You typed back the same words as always, It's fine, even as your cheeks burned with embarrassment. It wasn't fine. It never was.

Sorry, I fell asleep.

That one might have been the worst.

You'd waited three hours that night, staring at your phone until the screen dimmed and the battery warning flashed. It felt pathetic, even in the moment, but you couldn't stop yourself from hoping.

When her message finally came, you almost wished it hadn't. The words felt like a punch to the chest, so casual and uncaring, as if she hadn't realized how long you'd been waiting—or worse, as if she had and simply didn't care. Your response had been the same as always, but this time, your hands had trembled as you typed.

These weren't one-off moments. They were patterns—predictable, painful, and yet impossible to walk away from. Every excuse carried the same weight, a reminder that you were never her priority, never the one she truly cared about. But somehow, even after all of it, you stayed. You replied. You waited.

Because part of you couldn't help but hope that one day, she might mean it when she said she was sorry.

Your friends had tried to tell you before. So many times, actually. They had spoken to you in their patient, understanding tones at first, as if easing you into a truth you already knew but couldn't bring yourself to face.

Cairo isn't good for you. You deserve better. She doesn't care about you the way you care about her.

The words had echoed in your mind, even as you'd brushed them off. You'd nodded, said you'd think about it, maybe even pretended to agree.

But the truth was, their concern had always bounced off the walls you'd built around Cairo. It wasn't their business, you'd told yourself. They didn't see the side of her you did—the glimpses of vulnerability, the rare moments when she made you feel like you were the only one who mattered.

But those moments had grown fewer and farther between. Lately, they felt like distant memories, the kind you cling to out of desperation rather than hope.

You couldn't pinpoint exactly when it shifted. Maybe it was the hundredth time she'd left your messages unread, or the way she only texted back when it was convenient for her.

Maybe it was the excuses that started to sound more like indifference than apologies. Or maybe it was the way you realized, slowly and painfully, that you couldn't remember the last time Cairo had truly asked about you—your day, your feelings, your life beyond what you could do for her.

And then there were your friends. They hadn't stopped trying, even when it became clear you weren't ready to listen.

Their voices grew sharper, less patient, but not unkind. You're breaking your own heart, they'd said once. She's not worth it. And for the first time, those words didn't feel like a slap; they felt like the truth.

It wasn't just the words, though. It was the way they looked at you—really looked at you.

Not with judgment, but with something softer, something sad. You'd seen it in their eyes when they caught you checking your phone, hoping for a reply that never came. You'd felt it in the way they lingered after conversations, hesitant to leave you alone with your thoughts.

And maybe that's what finally cracked the foundation you'd built for her—the realization that the people who truly cared about you were right there, offering you more love and patience than Cairo ever had.

You started to notice the things you'd ignored before: the weight in your chest when her name popped up on your screen, the exhaustion that came from trying to decipher her mixed signals, the way her words always seemed to twist just enough to make you feel like the unreasonable one.

It wasn't a sudden epiphany. It wasn't some grand, dramatic moment where you declared that enough was enough. It was quieter than that, slower. Like a tide receding, pulling back layer by layer, until you could finally see the damage left behind.

It happened one night when you were with your friends. They'd said something—maybe a joke, maybe just a passing comment about Cairo—and instead of defending her, you'd stayed silent. It wasn't because you were angry or hurt; it was because, for the first time, you couldn't find a reason to argue.

That silence was heavier than anything you'd ever felt. It wasn't the kind that begged to be filled with excuses or justifications. It was the kind that felt like acceptance.

And that's when you knew. You didn't need Cairo to apologize again, to make another excuse, to promise she'd do better and then fall back into the same patterns. You didn't need anything from her anymore.

For the first time, you realized the person you needed to save was yourself.

Which was why you decided to pull away.

It wasn't an easy decision. Cairo had a way of pulling you back in, of making it hard to let go of the idea of her, even when she'd done nothing to deserve your loyalty. But you'd had enough of being her secret. Enough of being good enough only when it suited her.

English with Mr. Solace was where it started.

Cairo slid into the chair beside you like it was hers by default, like she hadn't spent days treating you as if you barely existed. She gave you that soft smile, the one that always felt a little too rehearsed, before it shifted into something sharper—teasing, flirty. The smirk that had once made your heart race now only irritated you.

You kept your eyes on your notebook, pen moving in deliberate strokes. You weren't writing anything meaningful, but it didn't matter. The point was to ignore her, to refuse her the attention she always seemed to expect.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw her watching you. She didn't like being ignored. You could feel her presence, her attempts to draw you in, like a weight pressing down on your shoulders.

She leaned back in her chair, her bag sliding off her shoulder and onto the floor with a soft thud. Her arm brushed yours briefly as she adjusted herself, and you knew it wasn't accidental.

But you didn't move. You didn't flinch, didn't look, didn't react the way you might have just weeks ago.

Mr. Solace’s voice filled the room as he began his lecture, his words blending into a low hum in the background. You were just starting to think you'd get through the class without an incident when you felt it—her fingers brushing against your thigh.

It was subtle at first, just the barest hint of contact, like she was testing the waters. Then her touch grew bolder, her palm hovering before she let it settle lightly against your leg.

Your heart didn't race this time. Instead, it sank.

This was Cairo, wasn't it? Always acting like you belonged to her when no one was watching, when it was convenient. Always making sure her actions stayed hidden, as if she couldn't bear for anyone else to know what you meant to her—if you even meant anything at all.

For a moment, you froze. The old you would've let it slide, let her hand stay there, and hoped it meant something more than it ever did. But not this time.

This time, you pulled away.

Your chair scraped against the floor as you shifted back, the sound cutting through the quiet hum of Mr. Solace’s lecture. A few heads turned, but you didn't care.

You felt Cairo's hand drop away immediately, her fingers curling into her palm as if she'd been burned. For a moment, you didn't dare look at her. Your focus stayed locked on your notebook, your pen frozen mid-stroke as you tried to steady your breathing.

But the silence beside you was deafening.

Finally, you glanced sideways, just briefly, and what you saw caught you off guard. Cairo wasn't wearing her usual mask of indifference. Her brow was furrowed, her lips slightly parted like she wanted to say something but couldn't find the words.

Her eyes darted toward you, then away, as if she was trying to figure out what had just happened. She looked confused, maybe even hurt—but there was something else too. Anger. That familiar glint of frustration she got whenever something didn't go her way.

You forced yourself to look away before she could meet your gaze fully.

The rest of the lesson dragged on, but the tension between you didn't fade. Cairo sat rigid in her seat, her hands resting stiffly on her desk. She didn't try to touch you again, but you could feel her presence, heavy and unrelenting, like she was willing you to look at her.

You didn't.

When the bell rang, you stood quickly, grabbing your bag and slinging it over your shoulder in one smooth motion. Cairo hesitated, her movements slower, almost hesitant, like she wasn't sure what to do next.

You didn't wait to find out. You walked out of the room without a backward glance, your heart pounding in your chest.

The hallway was a blur of noise and motion as you pushed your way through the crowd, your bag slung over one shoulder and your gaze fixed straight ahead.

You didn't want to linger. You didn't want to give her the chance to catch up, to say anything that might make you second-guess the boundaries you were finally starting to set.

You weaved around groups of students loitering by the lockers, dodging the occasional stray elbow or careless backpack.

The dull roar of conversations and laughter filled the air, but it all felt distant, muffled by the sound of your own heartbeat pounding in your ears.

Your locker wasn't far now—just a few feet away. If you could make it there, if you could grab your things and blend into the crowd again, you might be able to avoid her altogether.

But then you heard it.

"Y/N!"

Her voice cut through the chaos, not loud enough to draw attention from anyone else but clear enough to send a shiver down your spine.

You pretended not to hear. You kept walking, your fingers tightening around the strap of your bag as if holding on to something solid could keep you from looking back.

The distance and the noise of the hallway worked in your favor for now, her voice fading slightly as another group of students spilled out of a nearby classroom, blocking her path.

For a moment, you thought you might actually make it.

But you should've known better. Cairo never let things go.

Her footsteps were quick and purposeful, cutting through the crowd with an ease that only someone like her could manage.

You felt the shift in the air before you even saw her—felt her presence, familiar and inescapable, closing in on you like a shadow.

"Y/N!" This time, her voice was closer, sharper, laced with an edge of frustration.

You didn't stop, didn't slow, even though the knot in your stomach tightened with every step. You could feel her catching up, her determination practically radiating off her like heat.

And then her hand was on your wrist.

The contact was sudden, firm, and you had no choice but to stop as she turned you around to face her.

Cairo stood there, her chest rising and falling slightly from the effort of chasing you down. Her hand stayed wrapped around your wrist, not tight enough to hurt but strong enough to keep you from pulling away.

Her expression was unreadable at first, a mix of emotions flickering across her face so quickly that you couldn't pin any of them down.

Her lips parted, like she was about to say something, but for a moment, she didn't. She just looked at you, her brows furrowed and her jaw tense, as if she were trying to piece together what had just happened.

The noise of the hallway felt like it faded away, the two of you caught in a strange, charged silence.

You pulled your wrist from her grasp, the movement sharp and deliberate, and took a small step back, putting space between you.

Cairo stayed where she was, rooted to the spot as if the act of you pulling away had left her momentarily stunned. Her hand fell to her side, and she tilted her head, her gaze fixed on your face, searching for something she couldn't seem to find.

Confusion flickered across her features, quickly giving way to something sharper—something almost hurt.

Her lips parted, but when she spoke, it wasn't vulnerability that came through. Instead, there was an edge, a hint of attitude in her voice that sharpened every syllable.

"What was that all about?" she asked, her accent thick, the natural rasp of her tone cutting through the air between you. Normally, it was the kind of thing you would've found endearing, even attractive. But not now. Not after everything.

You crossed your arms, schooling your features into indifference. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Cairo blinked, caught off guard for a split second before she let out a low, almost mocking laugh. She leaned slightly toward you, her cocky demeanor sliding effortlessly back into place.

"Oh, come on," she said, her voice low enough that only you could hear over the hum of the hallway. "I tried to touch you, and you freak out?" Her lips curled into a smirk, the kind she always used when she thought she had you right where she wanted you.

Her eyes narrowed, teasing, self-assured, as she added, "Am I that intimidating?"

She said it like it was a compliment, like it was supposed to make your heart skip a beat the way it always used to. It was a flirt, the kind of thing that once would've left you fumbling for words or glancing away to hide the flush on your cheeks.

But not now.

You didn't falter. You didn't give her the satisfaction of a reaction. Instead, you met her gaze with a calm, steady look that made her smirk falter, the corners of her mouth twitching downward as uncertainty crept into her expression.

"No," you said simply, your voice firm. "I just don't want to do this anymore."

The words hung in the air, heavy with meaning.

Cairo's brows knit together, her lips parting in surprise as she stared at you like you'd just spoken a foreign language. Then, her expression shifted—confusion morphing into something sharper, almost disgusted, as though she couldn't quite believe what she was hearing.

"What?" she said, her voice laced with attitude, the word drawn out like she was challenging you to explain yourself. Her tone was a mix of disbelief and defiance, as if the very idea of you pulling away from her was both shocking and offensive.

You couldn't tell if she genuinely didn't understand or if she was playing dumb, but part of you suspected the latter. Maybe she hadn't considered this possibility—hadn't imagined a world where you would be the one to step back, to say no.

If she did understand, she was probably thinking about how this wasn't supposed to happen to her. People didn't end things with Cairo Sweet. She ended things with them.

But this wasn't even an ending, was it? It wasn't a breakup, because this wasn't a relationship. Not really.

Whatever it was, though, it was over. You weren't going to let her keep playing you like this.

The silence stretched between you, the tension palpable. Cairo's gaze darted over your face, searching for any hint of hesitation, but you didn't waver. For once, you were sure of yourself.

And it was clear, for the first time, that she didn't know what to do about it.

"Look, Cairo." Your voice came out steadier than you expected, even with the weight of what you were about to say pressing down on your chest. "I don't know what this is," you continued, gesturing vaguely between the two of you, "but I want it to be over."

Cairo's head jerked back like you'd slapped her, her brows knitting together in a sharp furrow as her lips parted slightly. For a moment, she just stared at you, blinking like she couldn't quite process the words you'd just said.

Her mouth twisted into something unreadable, almost like disgust, but you knew better. It wasn't disgust. It was shock. Maybe even hurt, though you weren't sure if it was for the right reasons.

"What?" she finally said, her voice low and almost breathless, like she'd forgotten how to breathe properly.

You could've stopped there. Maybe you should've. But there was too much left unsaid, too much that had been building up for far too long.

"I'm tired, Cairo," you said, the words simple but cutting.

Her expression shifted, a flicker of something vulnerable crossing her face before she quickly masked it with that familiar attitude, the one that had kept you hooked for far too long. But she didn't say anything, didn't interrupt, so you kept going.

"You treat me like I'm supposed to be grateful for the scraps you throw my way," you said, your voice low but firm, the words landing like a stone in the pit of your stomach. "But I'm done. I'm not waiting anymore."

Cairo's jaw tightened, her arms crossing over her chest defensively as she stared at you. There was no cocky smirk now, no teasing glint in her eye. For once, she didn't look like she had all the answers.

"I don't know what you're talking about," she said finally, her tone sharp, almost dismissive, but the slight tremor in her voice betrayed her.

You exhaled slowly, shaking your head. "Yeah, you do. You just don't like hearing it."

Her brows furrowed even deeper, her mouth opening like she was about to argue, but she hesitated, the words catching in her throat. For the first time, Cairo Sweet looked uncertain.

And it was oddly freeing, seeing her like that, knowing that for once, you weren't the one left doubting everything. You were done playing this game.

You took a deep breath, steadying yourself as you looked at her one last time. She still hadn't said anything, her mouth slightly open as if the words were stuck somewhere between her throat and her pride. Her arms were still crossed, but you could see the cracks in her armor now—confusion, maybe even hurt, flickering across her face in ways she couldn't quite hide.

But it wasn't enough to stop you.

"Maybe you should find someone else to play with," you said evenly, your voice low but sharp enough to cut through the tension between you. You didn't say it with malice or anger, just a quiet, undeniable finality.

Her lips parted further, her eyes narrowing as if to mask the shock that was written all over her face. She didn't respond, and you didn't wait for her to.

Instead, you turned and walked away, your footsteps firm and deliberate, even as the noise of the crowded hallway swallowed the moment whole. You didn't look back, didn't let yourself wonder what her expression looked like now or if she was still standing there, watching you leave.

Because this time, you weren't leaving to get her attention.

#jenna ortega x reader #mabel x reader #tara carpenter #tara carpenter x reader #vada cavell x reader #wednesday addams x reader #melissa barrera x reader #sam carpenter #ask #sam carpenter x reader

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covenofagatha · 16 hours ago

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alright alright i’m thinking dub!con modern/nonmagic au.. into something rough and/or bondage. we love the age gap. i’m leaving a lot of holes lmfao i will talk shop if you want specifics baby

finally finished omg

hope everyone enjoys

title is from Chains by Nick Jonas cause why not

Chains for your love

When you're house sitting for your neighbors Agatha and Rio, you decide to throw a party and they are not happy when they find out

Word count: 3400

Warnings: dubcon, smut, rough sex, bondage (handcuffs), vibrators, fingering, spanking, choking, threesome, might be missing one or two sorry if so, age gap (all legal)

Your neighbors would kill you if they found out what you were doing right now.

Agatha and Rio, the couple next door, had asked you to house sit for them while they were on vacation to Cabo for a week as a favor to your mom.

You had just graduated from high school and she said, and you quote, “you need to get your lazy butt off the couch and do something with your life or so help me.”

So when Agatha mentioned to her that they were leaving for a while, your mom had thrown you under the bus.

You didn’t know much about your neighbors, only that they were two smoking hot older women who were kind of crazy. You had also barely ever interacted with them, always at school or doing homework when they came over to have lunch with your mom.

Agatha is about ten years older than her wife, with long dark curly hair and piercing blue eyes. Her fashion sense is always on point and her veiny hands do things to you.

Rio, while pale and a brunette as well, is tall and lean, and very intense. Her hazel eyes bore into you whenever you’d come downstairs to get a glass of water, like she knew something that you didn’t. When she looks at you like that, you can’t help but squirm and wonder if you did something wrong. And yet, for some reason, you find it hot.

All you had to do while they were gone was stop by, water their plants, collect their mail, and make sure their house was in order.

Which you did, perfectly, you might add.

It just so happened that on the last night of house sitting, you were supposed to go to a party at your friend’s house to celebrate the end of senior year, but her parents came home early so she needed to move it.

And you had the brilliant idea to use the giant, empty house at your disposal.

Cue the music, lights, and drinks.

“This is so nice of your neighbors to let us use their house!” Your best friend Wanda yells at you.

You laugh, pretending not to have heard her over the bass, because they certainly did not.

In fact, you think, you think they would be quite opposed to it.

Agatha and Rio were quiet people; they didn’t like mess, especially in their house.

And this here, with Jimmy Woo throwing up in the bathroom and Natasha Romanoff knocking over a bottle of beer on the ground and two people making out in the pool, was as messy as it could get.

You’re on your second wine cooler, feeling it start to hit, and you stumble around the living room, trying to assess the damage before the party is even over.

It may have gotten more out of hand than you were intending it to. When you had told your mom what you were doing, you had mentioned having a few people over for pizza, and she had said that if it got out of hand, or if she heard about even one thing being out of place when Agatha and Rio got back, she would, and you quote, “ground your butt until you graduated from college.”

You almost pointed out the irony of her wanting you to do something, but the moment you were going to, she threatened to not let you do anything for the next four years, but decided against it.

“Here!” A bottle of beer is pressed into your hand and you turn to find Darcy Lewis standing there. Even though you shouldn’t, you take a swig and Wanda leaves to go find her boyfriend. “Cool party!”

“Thanks!” You shout back and she giggles before taking your hand and leading you into the kitchen, where it’s a little quieter. You haven’t talked to Darcy that much, but she was in two of your classes and you know she’s going to MIT.

“Got any summer plans?” She asks but she slurs the words. You laugh like it’s the funniest thing ever. “What?”

You point at her, almost doubling over. “You’re so drunk!”

She looks scandalized for a second, raises her hand to fix her glasses, and then becomes hysterical too. “So are you!”

The next thing you know, Darcy and you are kissing.

You’re not sure who started it, but her mouth is against yours and your tongue is in her mouth.

You pull back, there’s some eye contact, and then the two of you crack up again and she goes outside to the patio.

Drunken makeout accomplished and your head sufficiently spinning from the two and a half drinks now, you make it a mission to start cleaning up.

You’ve collected half a trash bag full of cans when people start pouring out of the house, telling you to “stay in touch!” and “have fun at college!” and then it’s just you in the house.

There’s still a lot to clean up, but you’re tired and sloshed, so you set an alarm on your phone for six in the morning so you can get up and tidy up the rest before Agatha and Rio get home.

You pass out on the couch immediately.

Which turns out to be a huge mistake, because when you finally wake up in the morning, your neighbors are sitting in the chairs across from the coffee table, both wearing matching displeased looks.

You shoot up, scrambling into a sitting position, heart pounding. “What–” You furiously tap your phone to find out why the alarm didn’t go off, but it doesn’t turn on.

Of course it died.

Rio chuckles, leaning back and crossing a leg over the other, amused with your panic. “Care to explain what happened here last night, doll?”

Your cheeks redden and you try to think of something that won’t get you in trouble because it seems like you are fucked. “I had some friends over,” you say, and it sounds pathetic even to your ears.

Agatha tuts and rests her elbows on her knees. “‘Some friends?’ Angel, have you seen what our house looks like?”

You gulp and take a look around, dread sinking deeper into your stomach. The pieces of glass that no one picked up. All the cans and bottles you missed. A sweatshirt thrown onto the floor. Pizza crusts and plates scattered across the furniture.

“I was going to clean it up, I swear,” you say, your throat suddenly really dry.

“Oh, and,” Rio says, so cheerful for no reason. You can only imagine what she’s going to say, but she takes out her phone and taps the screen. You raise an eyebrow and she turns it to you.

At first, you’re not really sure what you’re looking at, but then it becomes clear.

It’s a recording of you and Darcy making out in their kitchen, the angle from somewhere on the counter.

You lurch back on the couch. “You were spying on me?” You hiss, feeling violated.

Agatha rolls her eyes and scoffs. “Please, darling, this is our house, we can do whatever we want in it. Plus, we weren’t sure if we could trust such an immature, young thing like you and clearly, we couldn’t.”

The jab about your age makes you angry. “I’m not that young and I’m not immature!” You say indignantly.

“Making out like a slut with the first girl who gives you attention while drunk at a lame high school party?” Rio taunts, standing up and sliding next to you on the couch. You feel the pit in your stomach grow when Agatha does the same on the other side. You’re not sure who to look at. “Seems like something a childish brat would do.”

“And now, we think there should be consequences,” Agatha coos, hand coming to brush a piece of your hair back behind your ear. Fear spikes through your veins.

“Please don’t tell my mom! She can’t find out about this, I’ll be in so much trouble,” you beg and Agatha smirks. You jump when you feel Rio’s hand touch your thigh and you freeze when it slides up to the hem of your short skirt.

“So you don’t want us to tell your mom,” Rio muses, toying with the edge of the fabric. You have to bite back a moan and it becomes hard to breathe. “I guess that means we’ll have to punish you some other way for creating such a mess.”

“What did you–” You have to stop to swallow roughly. “What did you have in mind?”

Agatha hums lowly. “We need to make sure you learn your lesson, no matter how hard we have to beat it into you.” You whimper and pray that neither of them heard it.

But of course they did.

Rio snickers and cups your pussy, all the air being punched out of your lungs. “God, she’s dripping, Aggie,” she says and your face burns hotter than it ever has.

You shake your head, denying how much you actually want this, and try to clamp your legs close, but Agatha pries one open and Rio moves her fingers up and down your clothed slit.

“We can always go next door and tell your mom,” Agatha warns and that’s all it takes to convince you. You turn to Rio, wrap your arms around her, and pull her in for a kiss.

Immediately, Agatha yanks you back by your hair and Rio slaps you across the face. It’s not hard enough to seriously hurt, but the sting makes you gasp.

“Bedroom, now,” Agatha barks and practically drags you off the couch and up the stairs, Rio practically cackling while she follows.

You’re thrown onto the bed in the room that you may have snooped through a few times this week. Enough times to find all of their toys in their bedside drawer and imagine the women using them on each other.

The same nightstand where Rio is heading toward now. You watch her saunter over, lips parting, but Agatha roughly grabs your chin and forces your mouth open with her thumb.

“Don’t look at her,” she growls and leans down to whisper in your ear, “If you ever want us to stop, say purple.”

The second you nod, she spits directly into your mouth. A strangled moan leaves your throat and Agatha slides two fingers inside your mouth to spread her saliva all over your tongue. You gag around them as she pushes them deeper and you feel tears pricking your eyes. She scrapes her nails against your tongue and you roll it up to flick at her fingers, not missing the way she bites her lip.

And then she flips you over so your stomach is on the bed, hikes your skirt over your ass, and spanks you. The impact reverberates through your body and the sound echoes throughout the room.

“Fuck,” you gasp.

“A young thing like you shouldn’t be using such dirty language,” Agatha tsks and slaps you again. “That’s for kissing that whore in our kitchen.”

Again.

“That’s for leaving a mess all over our house.”

Again.

“That’s for proving us wrong when we thought we could trust you.”

Again.

“That’s for making us punish you the second we get back from our lovely vacation.”

Again.

“And that is for teasing us all those times at your house when you’d come downstairs dressed in barely anything. It’s like you wanted us to notice how desperate you were for us,” she snaps.

You’ve dissolved into a moaning, sniveling puddle on their bed but the thought that you’ve been unknowingly turning this couple on makes you even hotter inside.

Agatha reaches down to the crotch of your underwear and laughs meanly. “God, you’re so fucking wet, did being spanked like a slut turn you on?”

While you consider yourself a proud person, there’s absolutely no pride in the way you nod your head so hard it hurts.

She tears your panties off and shoves two fingers in you without preamble. A loud sound rips out of your mouth and your body rocks forward with the force. She fucks you with a brutal pace and it’s exactly what you need, but then she pulls out and slaps you harder than before on the ass. You groan, absorbing the hit, and you feel yourself clench around nothing.

You need her fingers back inside you, but she turns you back over and you prop yourself up on your elbows.

Rio comes back into view with two pairs of fluffy handcuffs and a few other toys. “Get against the headboard,” she orders and you scramble to obey. She hands one pair to Agatha and they both make quick work of chaining one cuff to your wrist and the other to the bedside post. You give an experimental tug of both hands and while you can wiggle your arms and wrists comfortably, there’s no getting out.

The two women come back around the bed to face you and you squirm under their direct attention.

“What do you think we should do with our naughty little plaything?” Rio asks, tongue pushing against the inside of her cheek, eyes lighting up with possibilities.

They fall into these roles so well and you can only imagine what it’s like when the two of them have sex.

“I think we should fuck her until she can’t take anymore and she’s begging for us to stop,” Agatha muses with a smirk. Your breath catches at her idea.

“I think the slut likes that sound of that,” Rio says and Agatha nods in agreement. “Maybe we hold the vibrator against her until she cries. What do you think, doll?” She raises an eyebrow at you.

“Whatever you want, please just touch me,” you beg.

Agatha bends over to run a finger up your thigh, watching how you shake. “Be careful what you wish for, angel.” She crawls onto the bed so she’s kneeling in front of you and once again, pushes two fingers forcefully into your dripping pussy. She’s not gentle at all, curling her fingers and scraping her nails against your insides, but it’s perfect.

You struggle against the handcuffs, wishing you could touch her, but Rio tuts, takes off her pants and underwear, and moves to straddle your stomach, blocking Agatha partially from your view.

Your breath hitches as she pulls up the crop top from the party last night and lowers her wet cunt onto your abs and lightly grinds. Her head falls back and you think you could cum from the feeling of her against you like that.

And then she starts moving faster just as Agatha does, her fingers filling you and fucking you just how you need it, and Rio’s right hand comes to clasp around your throat. You throb around Agatha’s fingers and you had no idea that would be such a turn on for you.

Agatha’s thumb presses down so hard on your clit that it almost hurts while she keeps her merciless pace and your hips start to buck against her fingers. Rio squeezes harder and the lightheadedness you feel only drags you closer to the edge. Her nails dig into your skin and you think you might die from how good it feels.

“Are you going to cum for us?” Agatha asks from behind the woman riding your stomach faster.

“Yes,” you manage to choke out, seeing Rio’s delighted face on top of you.

And then Agatha pulls her fingers out of you and you whine loudly, only for her to slap your pussy hard.

You can hear the wetness.

And then you can hear buzzing.

Agatha presses something against your clit and you almost jump out of your skin.

It’s the vibrator and you’re guessing she turned it up to one of the highest settings. It’s so intense on you and you can’t help but cry out as it sends you straight into an orgasm. Being breathless from Rio’s hand around your throat only increases the pleasure and you’ve never felt anything like that before.

You expect some relief from the assault on your clit but it never comes. Agatha holds it against you while Rio slips a finger down to her own pussy to get more direct stimulation where she needs. The woman on top of you is beginning to fall apart and it only heightens your own sensitivity.

The vibrations have your hips rolling and you quickly cum again, and this time, you try to close your legs or scooch up the bed to get it off, but Agatha doesn’t let you.

She rakes her nails on your leg and then you feel her roughly bite your inner thigh. You gasp and your hips buck up, almost throwing Rio off.

Rio finally takes her hand off your throat and bends down over you so she can suck marks into your collarbones as well.

Both their mouths on you and the vibrations still on your clit throw you right over the edge again.

This time, Agatha does move it away from you and you can finally breathe.

But not for long, because Agatha slides a finger back inside your sopping cunt and lazily fucks you. Rio’s panting on top of you and she finally buckles with pleasure as she cums for the first time. It’s the hottest thing ever, the way she tosses her head back and seizes up, small sounds falling out of her mouth.

Once Rio comes down from her high, she gets off you, smirking at the glistening wetness on your stomach. You gape down at them as she joins Agatha to watch her fuck you.

And then your mouth falls open and your eyes roll back in your head when Rio pushes a finger into you too.

Fuck.

You have both of them inside you.

They move in sync, dragging their fingers out and thrusting back into you at the same time, and you groan loudly.

“How does it feel, angel?” Agatha says, voice thick and low.

“Feels so good,” you babble, sweat breaking out on your forehead as you raise your hips to meet them.

“Does our little slut need to cum over both our fingers?” Rio taunts.

Your head falls to the side, blissed out with the feeling of them both curling and pressing on that spot inside you that you can rarely get to on your own. Your stomach is almost cramping and your arms are aching from pulling so hard on the cuffs. “Yes, please, fuck, wanna cum, so close.”

And then they pull out of you at the same time like they planned it and you clench needily around nothing, your hips still undulating.

“Wait, what, why?” You wail and they start laughing at you. “No, no, come on, please.” You pull at your restraints like that will do anything and Agatha harshly slaps the inside of your thigh where she bit you earlier, and it makes you jump.

“Stop being a greedy little slut,” she scolds. Rio walks over and unlocks the handcuffs from you so you can sit up. “You already came twice. Maybe you’ll think twice about using our house for an orgy next time.”

“It wasn’t an orgy!” You protest and Rio rolls her eyes and grabs your jaw roughly.

“We don’t care if it was your fucking church group,” she snarls. “You made a mess and hopefully you’ve learned your lesson.”

You slouch, still feeling desperate. You can still feel both their hands in you, twisting and fucking you so well, and you don’t think you’re bound to forget that anytime soon.

“Well, angel, did you learn your lesson?” Agatha presses and you petulantly nod.

Not exactly beating their young and immature allegations anytime soon. Who cares though.

“You better get home before your mom starts to worry and thinks we’re torturing you,” Rio says, playful glint in her eye.

“Cause that would be so far from the truth,” you mutter and Agatha swats your leg again.

“Get out of here,” she says. “Maybe next time we go out of town, we can see if you were actually paying attention.”

All you know is that next time they leave, you’re going to throw an even bigger party.

#agatha harkness x fem!reader #agatha harkness x reader #agatha x reader #agatha x you #agatha harkness x you #agatha harkness smut #kathryn hahn x reader #agatha smut #agatha all along #agatha x rio #agathario #agathario x reader #rio vidal x reader #rio vidal x agatha harkness

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braindeadjaidyn · 12 hours ago

Note

Rafe following his babysitter into the bathroom

Fucking her against the door, holding her mouth closed with his hand

His family just outside in the living room, while he is fing her as hard as he can

BABYSITTERS CLUB!

summary:..-> reader and rafe always had a thing for each other. everything changes once she picks up a babysitting job, babysitting the one and only kook king.

warnings:..-> smut, p n v, bad dirty words, wards a douche, rough sex, rushed sex, both cum quick:(, sex that could’ve got them caught?? EVERYONE IS OF AGE!!!

word count:..-> 2700.

a/n:..-> hello pookie and pookies! okay so don’t be mad….i know I didn’t do the bathroom but I hope this okay! i got tunnel vision and didn’t even realize! im sorry if i edged yall with the constant build up. yall writing sex is HARD. anyway requests are open bye love u. AND BE NICE.

It was almost laughable that Rafe fucking Cameron, kook king needed a babysitter. It WAS laughable. Ward Cameron had contacted you through Facebook knowing of the fact you babysit. Yeah, you did, but not 20-year-old frat guys.

Ward Cameron: Hello Y/n! Your father told me you do babysitting and I’m looking to hire one for tonight! It would be for my son and daughter, it may seem a little odd. My apologies. I will be having some important meetings with a large group, and I don’t trust either to be on their best behavior. Please contact me back so we can discuss further! I’ll pay 500$ for 3 hours.

The message sent you into a fit of cackles, screenshotting the text and sending it to all your friends. The idea was so tempting. So fucking tempting. 500$ for 3 hours was a literal steal…Yet you were going to be in the presence of the insufferable Rafe Cameron. You hadn’t had many interactions with Rafe, he usually just teased you for being the ‘prude good girl’ every time you told him no to hook up. You’d be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t think about letting him fuck the shit out of you, hell you almost did. Every time you’d open your mouth to try and agree he’d open his spewing his bullshit, immediately forcing you to shut your own.

You bit at the soft flesh on your bottom lip, tapping the phone with your eyes trained on the text. Fuck it. 500$ for keeping the cocky frat boy in line sounded so good, so so fucking good. You agreed, and your thumbs moved quickly over the screen. Your lip was still tucked firmly between your teeth as you waited for his father’s reply.

Y/n L/n: That sounds good! Thank you so much Mr. Cameron! I’ll be there. When should I be there and can I have the address?

Ward Cameron: Of course Y/n! My meeting is in about 40 minutes, I would like you here as soon as possible. I will be here the whole time so I’ll give you a rundown of responsibilities and such when you arrive. *address*.

This soon? You immediately scrambled to your feet, throwing on some more appropriate clothes than your lounge ones. You were so quick you thought your heels were on fire.

Soon enough here you were on the Camerons porch knocking on the front door. Jesus, why did you agree to this? Fuck. The only time you ever interacted with Rafe was when you were fucked up, now here you were sober about to babysit the grown-ass man. This is ridiculous. The door swung open, of fucking course Rafe Cameron was the one to answer it. Sporting his stupid handsome smirk and backward cap. “You’re the one who’s keepin’ me on a leash tonight girl?” He drawled, flashing you his teeth.

Goddamn, his fucking fine ass. You tongued the inside of your cheek, fighting the urge to roll your eyes at his comment. With a tilt of your head and a soft huff, you finally met his gaze. “Just shut up and let me in Cameron,” With that Rafe chuckled, shaking his head as he moved from the door opening it further. You could feel his sharp stare as you walked past him and into the house. You were a little in awe at the niceness but quickly masked it, tucking your face back into its resting expression. Rafe didn’t miss it as he sidestepped around you, his smirk only growing.

“You never been in a house this nice princess?,” Rafe taunted, his smirk replaced with a smug smile.”Come on, my dad’s in here,” He led you further into the home, and you lagged behind. Cursing him internally at his snarky comments. Why was this dude such a diva? You followed aimlessly looking around at the different decor, this was so different from your own house.

Ward Cameron sat on the sofa, his attention on the laptop resting on the marble coffee table, his fingers working against the keys. He just looked like a dick, great….Rafe cleared his throat and shifted on his feet. You picked up his sudden change in demeanor, his once arrogant self replaced with a look that looked like a kicked puppy. It was sad, actually very sad. But you shrugged off your sympathy as Ward glanced up his face lighting up in foe friendliness. “Y/n my dear. Thank you for coming,” Ward greeted, closing the distance between the three. “Right well, I'm having a large meeting this evening. Lots of colleagues and other investors are joining me today. We will be using the living room, my office would be far too cramped. I’m just asking you to keep an eye on everyone and out of the living room.”

This man just screamed condescending. You nodded, sending him a soft smile. Once again you fought the urge to roll your eyes, how did he expect his grown son to listen to her? He was Rafe Cameron. It was widely known he doesn’t listen to anyone. “Yes sir, I can do that.” You spoke softly and sweetly, it was an act yet you wanted that 500$. Rafe sent you another smirk before he licked his lips to keep his dirty comment to himself. Ward nodded, reaching out to softly pat your shoulder. He quickly pulled away, and you fought the urge to jerk away. “Great! Well, Rafe behave. You’re 20 years old. It’s ridiculous that I had to even hire her.” Ward shot his son a pointed look, which made Rafe emotionally cower. Rafe just firmly nodded, his arms folded over his chest. You had to divert your gaze, your cheeks heating as you noticed how his shirt sleeves were straining against his muscles. Fuck.

A firm rushed knock at the front door thankfully interrupted your sinful thoughts. Ward immediately jerked his head to the noise, moving past the young adults. “Right, that's my meeting. So see you both later.” Ward called as he barely bothered looking over his shoulder at the two. He disappeared out of the living, and you could feel Rafe's eyes on you. Jesus Christ, does he have an off button? You met his gaze, surprised to see it was blank. “What?” You questioned, your face slightly twisted and your eyebrow arched.

Rafe just sighed deeply, running his hand over his cap. “Let’s get upstairs before he throws a bitch fit,” Rafe muttered, his body already moving toward and up the stairs. You followed, your heart beating wildly. It felt weird how domestic? No. Casual. Yeah, how casual this was. His long legs ate away at the distance of the stairs, you lagged behind feeling a little awkward by everything. I mean you’re fucking babysitting Rafe Cameron and his little sister, it was weird. You made your way to the top of the steps, glancing at him awkwardly for his next move. You could already hear the chatter from the men downstairs.

“Quit actin’ all fuckin shy girl, Les’ go Sarah’s in here,” Rafe smirked his head cocking over to a door, his hand pulling the door open. “How’s it hangin’ Sar?,” You were now standing in the doorway of what you assumed was a movie room, you knew they were rich but they were richhh. Sarah barely glanced up from her phone at the duo, shrugging her shoulders in response. Rafe plopped down on one of the sofas, legs spread open as he looked you over. “Sooo, are you always this weird when you're sober princess?”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at his words. He was so damn cocky and for what? You scowled at him, your pretty face twisting. “Do you always need a babysitter at your grown age?” You snarked, your hands crossing over your chest and you shifted your weight to your hip. Rafe took notice of that and eyed your hip for a moment, chuckling as he tongued the inside of his cheek.

“Real cute baby, don’t be throwin’ that up in my face.” Rafe rasped, his eyes looking over you cocking his brow at the fact you were still standing in the doorway. He patted the cushion next to him, a smirk on his lips. “Don’t be shy princess, I won't bite.”

You thought for a moment before begrudgingly plopping yourself down next to him. It was a small couch, so small you were brushing thighs with him. You averted your gaze as you felt your cheeks flush at the contact. You knew he was planning something, you could feel it in his stares. Rafe was planning something, more so just thinking about fucking you stupid over the armrest of the couch. He was going to hell for what he was about to ask, especially with Sarah in the room. He leaned forward, bracing his hand on the top of the couch. Rafe's chest was flush against your shoulder, his head ducked down by your ear fanning his breath down your neck. “Why won’t you let me fuck you princess?”

His words sent a shiver down your spine, his breath sending your mind into overdrive. You bit your lip, adjusting your skirt to try and compose yourself. You were bright red and you could feel it, you could also feel the ache between your legs at his tone. You had to remind yourself Sarah was in the room. You looked over at him and felt like you could melt when you met his smug gaze. “I mean..I-I would-,“ Your voice was low and quiet, careful for Sarah's listening ears, but before you could finish Sarah's dramatically loud groan and the thump of her phone cut you off. You were so down bad.

“The fuc- The wifi just went out, ugh. Rafe fix it,” Sarah whined, looking at her older brother with pleading eyes. The only issue was the router was in the living room. Rafe sighed deeply at the interruption, glancing over at Sarah with narrowed eyes.

Rafe definitely couldn’t go down there and fuck with the router with his dad having a meeting. It was the whole point why Y/n was there. But he could get her downstairs and alone…So tempting in his pervy brain and worth a shot. “Fine. Come on Y/n. Be my cover.”

Seriously? He was going to go down there, practically asking for a meltdown from his dad. Before you could protest he had you by the forearm and dragged you out of the movie room. “Rafe-“ You went to speak but he cut you off as he pressed his finger to his lips, silently shushing you as the two of you crept down the stairs. You both met at the bottom of the stairs, the living room just around the corner, a wall protecting the view of the duo. The laughs and voices of multiple men were slightly muffled from the distance.

You crept forward, keeping close to the wall not without shooting Rafe a pointed look. You were falling right into his dirty trap, just like he wanted. His mind only focused on fucking that cunt and your interrupted words. Before you could peek over the corner he pressed your back flush against the wall, his body eliminating the distance as he pressed his front to yours. He smirked down at you, his eyes roving over you like you were prey. “Finish your sentence, pretty girl.” He commanded, his voice low, careful to not attract anyone’s attention.

Your mouth opened to speak but the words were lost in your throat. Your mind was spinning at the closeness, your pussy was practically pleading. You could only hold his intense stare, his hand snaking around to grip the back of your thigh. “Say it. Tell me you want this dick baby.” Rafe cooed his mouth coming to your ear, his lips brushing the skin. Fuck this. You were already soaked from his touch, his words only increased the throb. You couldn’t believe what you were about to do, but it was Rafe fucking Cameron…

You nodded weakly, hands fisting his shirt as you lifted the thigh he grasped. “I want it, please.” You wanted to smack yourself for the desperation in your tone, but you never wanted to get fucked like you did now. Rafe pounced, his lips immediately crashing into yours. It was sloppy and full of need. God, he kissed like a fucking whore. You couldn’t help but mewl against his lips, your body felt like it was on fire. His hands were everywhere, leaning his body against yours as his hands grabbed the flesh of your ass from under your skirt. Which earned him another soft mewl, yet it was muffled by his soft lips. He rutted himself against you, god this was so nasty. So down bad. But you were fucking loving it. So was Rafe.

He pulled away, his chest heaving with heavy deep breaths. His lips were wet, and he looked sinful. You moved your hands to the waistband of his shorts, working away the button and zipper. You couldn't help it truly. Rafe liked your eagerness, his ego inflated as well as his dick. “Needy fuckin’ girl.” Rafe tsked lowly, assisting you as he tugged away down his shorts, his hands moving to the waistband of his boxers, he couldn’t help but smirk at your reaction to the tent in his boxers. Your eyes were wide, pretty lips parted in need. He freed himself from the boxers, fisting his cock as he looked you over. Fuck. He was so hot. You took this as your cue, you moved your panties to the side. This wasn’t the best spot to get caught fully exposed…

“Rafe…What if someone- fuck- mph-“ You whispered, cut off by Rafe thrusting his cock into you his hand clamping over your mouth. He kept his other hand on the back of your thigh, as he pounded into you. His cock was moving in your slick walls at a relentless pace, his fat tip brushing areas you never knew existed.

Rafe had his lips parted, his head hung back as your pussy clenched tightly around him. He kept his hand firmly clasped around your mouth, he smooshed the side of your face into the wall, his cock fucking into you at an unforgiving pace. The sound of your pelvis’s kissing was sinful. “Take it, take this fat dick,” Rafe growled lowly, his eyes glancing to the corner of the wall as he heard a couple of men speak louder.

You couldn’t even muster a response, let alone voice it due to his harsh grip around your mouth. You could only pathetically whine and cry against his palm, as his cock brushed that spongy spot deep into you. Your teeth grazed the flesh of his hand as he repositioned his thrusts, fucking you upwards against the wall. You clawed at his arms, your cunt squeezing tightly around his cock. God, you couldn’t believe how close he had gotten you so quickly. Your lower stomach burned with need, your core aching for release. You could tell Rafe was close, his brows knitted and his lip tucked between his teeth. His cock twitched in your velvety walls, he dropped his hand from your thigh moving his fingers to firmly rub your clit. You bit at the flesh of his hand, hoping to muffle your screams as you crashed over the edge. Your body trembling, eyes rolled back as you made a mess on his fat cock. You clamped down on his cock as Rafe let out a deep groan, planting his cock deep into you as he painted your womb with his warm cum. Your chest heaved with fast shaky breaths, you just let Rafe Cameron fuck you against a wall, while his father and however many men were on the other side.

Rafe pulled out of you, a sly smile on his lips. He pulled your panties back to the side and tucked himself back into his boxers with a chuckle. He held your wide blown-out gaze as he pulled his shorts up. “You’re a shit babysitter princess.”

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myss-lys · 16 hours ago

Note

…I have a request, If I may:

Jealous Fiyero. That’s all. You have the freedom to decide the rest. All I ask is: Make him pathetically in love with us, and jealous that our attention is not focused on him. Let us already have him wrapped around our finger. Please. It’s a need. It’s all I think about.

Thank you for reading <3 (and no pressure, obviously.)

Jealous Jealous Jealous Boy

Thank you for the request love! Please send any requests that you guys have for Fiyero I will get to them as soon as I can 💛____________________________________________

Fiyero Tigelaar never got jealous. No. Not him.

Fiyero has had many flings, girlfriends, boyfriends even, and he never felt threatened by another person talking to his significant other. For he is a prince, he knows the power he holds.

Another thing to note about Fiyero, he isn’t typically the type to beg, or be completely enamored by someone to the point of desperation.

That was until he got sent to Shiz. Fiyero has been kicked out of every school in Oz, and he knows this one won’t be any different. He’s never had any reason to stick around one place. That is until he met y/n.

He first saw her when Galinda, a small yet preppy young lady, was giving him a tour around Shiz. They went to the library and that’s when he saw her. A y/c (your hair color) girl sitting at a table, completely lost in her studies. “Who is that?” Fiyero asks Galinda with a pointed finger to the girl. “Oh, her? That’s just y/n.” Galinda responds, the name seeming like it hurt her just to say it. “Y/n huh?” He says under his breath.

Galinda pulls him away with an iron tight grip on his wrist, but he head stays locked on y/n. He chuckles before looking away.

When Fiyero was finally able to get out of the grasp of Galinda, he was determined to find y/n. He walked at a quick pace all around the school. The library? No. The cafiteria? No. The lounge area? No. He began to lose hope as he walked around the gardens. That’s when he spotted the y/c girl sitting on a bench with the same book in hand.

He walked closer to her and noticed how her s/c (your skin color) danced in the sunset, how her hair, messy yet laying perfectly over her shoulders. He wishes he could study her forever.

He smoothly grabs a purple flower before making his way closer to her. “Excuse me?” He says. Y/n looks up with a polite smile. “I just have to say you look absolutely ravishing this evening.” He says. Y/n tries to hold back her laugh but fails miserably. Her laugh seems to travel through the air and spreads to Fiyero. “What’s so funny?” He chuckles out. “Ravishing? I haven’t heard that one before.” She says with a big smile. Fiyero just looks at her in awe.

That was their first of many silly interactions. Fiyero’s pickup lines always seemed to work on everyone else. But you? Oh, you know how to keep him humble. Always correcting his grammar, or just blatantly laughing in his face. It all made him fall for you harder.

Over the next few weeks you both formed a friendship with each other. It’s obvious to everyone that he’s madly in love with you. Though, it’s a mystery if you feel the same. There’s a part of you that holds yourself back from feeling the same. You hear the whispers on the street of how many people he’s been with and how many hearts he’s broke. You’ve only been with a couple of guys, both ending with a mutual respect. You just don’t want to get yourself hurt.

At the Ozdust, you and Fiyero go together. As friends of course! You guys spend time chatting and laughing, even indulging in a little drinking. The night goes on and Fiyero seems to have lost you in the crowd. He frantically moves through people, desperate to reach you. It almost physically pains him to be without you.

He shoves through a group of people before he sees you. You with another guy. Your pressed against him as he whispers a joke in your ear. You respond with a playful wack on his chest and a giggle. Fiyero feels.. jealous. Heartbroken even. A foreign concept to him.

The jealousy turns into anger.

But even in his anger, Fiyero moves through the crowd with a calculated grace. His steps are purposeful as he approaches you and the stranger. Without a word, he gently places his hand on the small of your back, the touch feather-light despite the storm raging inside him.

"Pardon me," he says to the man, his voice strained but polite, "but I need to borrow y/n for a moment." Before you can protest, he's guiding you away from the crowded ballroom, his touch never becoming forceful despite his obvious tension.

The cool night air hits your face as Fiyero leads you into the garden. The moonlight catches his features, and you can see the conflict written across them - the jealousy warring with his desperate need to be gentle with you.

"I can't do this anymore," he whispers, his voice breaking. "Watching you with other people, pretending I'm okay just being your friend. Y/n, you've completely undone me."

His hands tremble as he cups your face, treating you like you're made of the finest Gillikin glass. "I've never felt this way about anyone. Every moment I'm not with you, I'm thinking about you. Your laugh haunts me. The way you roll your eyes at my terrible pickup lines. How brilliant you are when you're lost in your studies."

"I know my reputation precedes me," he continues, his thumbs ghosting over your cheeks. "But you've changed everything. I'd give up my crown, my title, everything - just to be the man worthy of your love. I'm completely, hopelessly, pathetically in love with you, y/n. And I'm terrified because I don't know how to exist anymore without you in my life."

The vulnerability in his eyes is raw, real - so different from his usual confident demeanor. "I know I don't deserve you. But I'm asking - begging really - for a chance to prove that what I feel for you is real. That I could spend lifetimes trying to make you happy and it still wouldn't be enough."

“Fiyero I- I don’t know what to say.” You say taken aback.

Your heart races as you look into his eyes, seeing the raw emotion there. All your walls, all your reservations about his past, crumble in the face of his sincerity.

"I've been fighting these feelings for so long," you whisper, your hands reaching up to rest on his chest. "I was so scared of becoming just another name on your list. But the way you look at me, the way you make me feel... it's different from anything I've ever known."

Fiyero's breath catches as you continue, "I'm in love with you too, you ridiculous, wonderful man. And it terrifies me how much I want this - want you."

His eyes light up with hope and relief, and then he's leaning down, closing the distance between you. His lips meet yours with a gentleness that makes your heart ache. One of his hands slides into your hair while the other pulls you closer, and you melt into him completely.

When you finally break apart, both breathless, Fiyero rests his forehead against yours. "I promise," he whispers against your lips, "I will spend every day proving that this is real. That you're not just another person to me - you're everything."

#prince fiyero #fiyero x reader #fiyero tiggular #wicked fiyero #fiyero tigelaar #wicked x reader #wicked movie #wicked

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ominium · 8 hours ago

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farewell p2

character : gojo s. context : your husband reads your letter D: pov : third person (gojo) content : angst (still) no comfort

note(s) : farewell p1 if you haven't read it ty to everyone who asked for p2 >O< did not expect it to do any numbers + made up char named tomiko btw, not real !!| + didn't want to verbally include "time skip" but if it's too confusing just lmk and i'll edit it :D

—

The mind of Satoru Gojo was foggy. He woke up after what felt like a long slumber in daze, surrounded by people he remembered—and people he didn’t. But within his state of confusion, he understood one thing: the person who was there when he first woke up mattered.

It felt like an invisible force that pulled at his heart, lingering in his mind...with no answer.

The first time his eyes met theirs, it was like he saw the world in a new perspective: under a different light. He felt like he could hear colors, taste the tasteless, and felt so undefeated staring into the depths of their eyes. It felt like a rebirth when he woke up—but he had no clue why this person had such an effect on him.

The second time he felt the warmth and connection with this person was when they had returned to “their” home together. While he recognized the address, the inside of the home was a different story. Pictures he was in that he couldn’t recognize, furniture that he swore he would never choose himself—but despite all that, he didn’t feel as if anything was out of place. If anything, it felt like he was getting closer to filling the voids that plagued his mind. However, in the attempts to fill that void quickly, he overlooked the truth that stood right in front of him. What was missing?

“Satoru~ wanna hang out today?”

It was the same question he had been getting all week, the week before, and the one before that. He had recently run into his old friend, Tomiko, who had been reaching out constantly ever since hearing about his accident. While not necessarily for the hangouts, he wasn’t particularly against them—he just couldn’t figure out why. Was it to fill that void in his mind? To fill in the gaps?

“Yeah. We’ll meet up later at the convenience store.” As he got ready once again, he shuffled down the hallway, passing by the frames of memories he got used to. The supposed partner in the photos was smiling in all of them, some at the camera—and some at him. A subtle hint of a smile graced his lips, as he looked at how lovingly he’s being stared at. Why couldn’t he remember?

“Good morning Toru. I made you eggs again. Are you heading out today as well?” He followed the source of the voice as he entered the kitchen, seeing their figure glow in the subtle morning light. He nodded, giving a quick thanks before digging in on his breakfast.

To be honest, Satoru almost couldn’t care less. Despite months of seeing the same photos, no new emotions or memories had emerged. Nothing had changed over the time that he had been spending with them, and it felt like each interaction had become more meaningless. What’s the point in even trying?

But with her, with her, it seemed so refreshing to create new memories. It was fun, rejuvenating…he felt like he wasn’t just living, but alive. But why was it so different?

“Be safe, Toru!...If you can, come home a bit early tonight. I have a surprise for you!” With a quick wave, he left through the front doors. Knowing they would lock the door for him, he left with haste to meet up with his old friend.

“That was sooo much fun Satoru~ we should hang out tomorrow too!” She slurred out, waving frantically before entering the taxi. He gave a curt wave back, grinning ear to ear before turning down the path towards his home. Did it feel like a home anymore? He wasn’t so sure, but it felt much better to live a bit day-to-day and push any worries tomorrow.

On his way back, his steps slowed. It felt so empty without someone chatting his ear off…without Tomiko. Has it always been someone else? Or was it just too easy to place her in all those missing memories?

With a shrug of his shoulders, and a shake from his head, Satoru continued his walk home, reaching his front doors. Usually, he would hear their music humming through the doors already, but it seemed…eerily silent. Brushing off the weird feeling, he decides to unlock the door and go in.

“I’m home,” he called out, taking off his shoes. Looking around waiting for a response, he was only met with silence, confusion surrounding him. Normally, he would have been greeted, asked how his time went, and would’ve been offered some sweets….

He continued in, looking around in complete confusion by the sudden bareness. Some of the usual frames had been taken down, and the house overall felt…empty. He turned into the living room, being greeted by silence and nothing but a paper that seems to have been folded on the coffee table. Swiftly, he took a seat on the couch, hesitantly reaching for it.

“In another universe, we would have grown old together.” As quickly as his eyes could run over the words, Satoru read every word over, and over, and over again. What did they mean, ‘in another universe’? Anniversary? Today was their anniversary? See her again? Tomiko? Flowers…what’s going on? Why aren’t they here?

The final time he felt the pull was when he read the final words. Satoru then, and only then, realized the mistakes he had made…the irreversible neglect to the only person who had been there for him.

He had forgotten who he had woken up to for the first time in awhile. He had forgotten who had given him his good morning’s and good night’s. He took for granted the lunch boxes, the ironed clothes, the refilled bowl of sweets by the door…

He had finally understood why they mattered. Way too late.

#jjk #angst #jjk angst #jujutsu kaisen #gojo #satoru #gojo s #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #satoru gojo x reader

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unluckywisher · 3 days ago

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THANK YOU @aeyumicore AND @anxiousgoddest FOR THE TAG!!!! 🥰🥰🥰🥰🥹🥹🥹🥹

Sending nothing but love and positivity to y'all and to @rose-tinted-kalopsia @starmocha @ladyparamount @milkandstarlight @inkblotgalaxies @vibinsane @rafayelsheart @starfallforest @readerxyourbabe AND EVERYONE WHO READS MY STUFF OR INTERACTS WITH ME IN ANY WAY. I MEAN IT. I HOPE YOU ARE ALL DOING GOOD!!!!!!!!!!!

positivity train!

if you see this or are tagged in it, tag a couple of your favorite mutuals/blogs and let them know you appreciate seeing them on your dash!

@h0neysugarfree @blueberrylovv @bequiteanddriveeeeeee @cherri-bomb-bomb @eg0mechan1c @fatrexicisback

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haveihitanerve · 3 days ago

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And When You Go Away

Batman and Nightwing did not work together frequently. That wasn’t to say they didn’t see each other. Or interact. It was hard, really, as they both worked with the Justice League now, to avoid the other. Just as it was hard, for Bruce at least, to pretend like they were mere acquaintances. Barely colleagues, hardly friends. Definitely not family. Not since Bruce had messed it all up. It hit him especially hard at times like these, when lives were on the line, and everyone was called to action, and Nightwing stepped up to lead. The way he always did. The way Bruce had trained him to.

“We need a perimeter here, here and here.” Nightwing placed his fingers on the map, derogating quickly. “Superman, I need an immediate evac of the West side,” Clark nodded, and was out the window in a flash. “Green Lantern help out with that, Flash, and any speedsters, I need you over in the North. We can’t leave any civilians in danger.” Superman, Green Lantern, Flash, the other speedsters, Wonder Woman, Green Arrow, all the older, more experienced, founders, all nodded, all obeyed his orders.

“Batman,” At his name, Nightwing finally hesitated, slowed, a break in his otherwise perfect mask. “Batman, you and me will defend the front.” He finally settled on, not looking up from the plans. If any other hero caught the repetition or hesitation, they didn’t show it, zipping off to follow their own orders.

Bruce fell into step beside his son Nightwing as he marched for the doors, heading to the front of battle. “I can be somewhere else.” he offered quietly, barely louder than a whisper, definitely not loud enough to be heard above the din of battle and battle preparations.

Still, Nightwing scoffed, charging his escrima sticks with a quick pump of his arms. “Don’t insult me. I can be professional. Besides, it’d be stupid to waste an asset somewhere else.” Bruce took the blows without comment or wince, merely nodded.

Despite the distance, despite their recent… space, it was almost scary how effortlessly they fell back into routine, fighting side by side the way they used to.

Nightwing called out “Back!” and suddenly he was eleven again, bright red shorts on and a massive smile, as he instructed Bruce to bend forward, the way his father had used to, so he could use him as a springboard against oncoming attackers.

It was a testament to Dicks skills that Bruce hardly felt him, a gentle brush of fingertips on his shoulders and then he was gone, soaring over his head, fists slamming into threats, shredding them apart.

The battle was over quicker than expected, and Bruce almost forgot, almost wrapped Dick in a hug, almost joked with him. But the flash of blue was jarring enough so that he caught himself, pulling away.

“Nice work Nightwing.” He muttered gruffly instead, ignoring the way Nightwing arched at the words, chest puffing out, standing taller on instinct, before he clamped it down, slouching once more.

“Yeah. Thanks. You too.” He bit out, before stalking off towards Flash and Arrow, a dismissal that hurt more than Bruce thought it would, after so many.

He slunk off to the other side, helping to tie up loose ends and clean up, before retiring back to the cave. He almost waited, head tilted to listen for the sound of a roaring engine, before he caught himself, slipping off the mask and cape, and draping them over a chair.

“Did you see Master Grayson today, Master Bruce?” Alfred asked, balancing a tray of tea on the table, trying, and failing, at subtlety.

Bruce rubbed his chin, staring at the empty white lenses of the green mask, illuminated in the display case. The light of the cave reflected off the glass, and Bruce swore the red seemed almost… blue.

“Master Bruce?” Alfred repeated. Bruce started, wiping at his eyes as he cleared his throat, turning.

“Hm? Oh, yeah. Sorry Alf...” He headed to the table to grab a cup of tea, glancing back only once.

The edges of the mask were crinkled, as though the phantom ghost of laughter still haunted them. “Yeah. I did.”

@1-800-i-ship-it -you asked for bruce and dick, and you shall recieve! It's not entirely a long fic, or very detailed, but I tried, and was inspired by the song "sunsetz" by cigarettes after sex, i think it really works for Dick and Bruce. Anyway, hope you enjoyed and I made your day at least a lil better :) hopefully at least not worse lol

#batman #batfam #bruce wayne #dick grayson #nightwing #batman and robin #this is the time period between robins btw #when dick leaves to be nightwing and separate from bruce/robin #and they have /problems/

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a-very-tired-jew · 1 day ago

Note

Thank you again for putting anon on for me so I could send this. I didn’t want the harassment that would happen otherwise if I put it on main.

So I am the person that sent STA the call out ask that got Cecil/Spot harassed. I felt bad about it and sent a follow-up ask a few days later to STA to say so.

I said that I was a non-Zionist Jew who had been following this whole thing since STA made their first blog months ago, the contradictions in their posts, and the hard and fast change they did.

STA never published it.

I waited a week or so and sent another one and STA still didn’t respond.

They instead doubled down on their tete-a-tete with Spot. It’s almost obsessive that they think any and all negative asks are from them.

I will admit in my follow-ups I did say that it doesn’t matter if they, STA, don’t consider themselves antisemitic, the people they are friends with are. The blogs that they reshare from and interact with are some of the most antisemitic blogs on this site. Many of them are well known tankies and there’s no denying their antisemitism, it’s been well established. Many of their “friends” on here have a long history of harassing Jews. There is a history of them going into the jumblr tag and Jewish communities and harassing Jews. It’s well documented and their past actions speak for themselves.

I’ve even seen everyone’s favorite Jew hater Spaceship, aka Trudge, as a frequent flyer on their blog.

I will also admit that I put in there that I remember when they tried to present as an Israeli and got caught using a translator to speak Hebrew. That they changed their story to being an Israeli living in CT, and then when that didn’t work out, they arrived at their current iteration of an ethnic Jew living in CT. I don’t believe them to be any of what they claim for a second. The whole debacle of them pretending and getting caught shows that they’ll lie and obfuscate for their goal(s).

But STA won’t share an ask that outs them, lists their past actions, or clears the air regarding Spot and them. They also won’t post anything that calls out their fanbase and friends. They’ve made a name as the token anti-Zionist Jew in their antisemitic clique and had a post about how they won’t address any other form of antisemitism except their Zionism=antisemitism position.

I did also send another ask to them to clarify what a pogrom actually is since they denied that Amsterdam was one. It’s like your artist friend, they don’t actually have an answer and instead will either delete or ignore any asks that want them to clarify their positions.

Since I sent that ask and looked at their blog, I noticed that they really only respond to certain types of anons. They are either praising them, are extremely negative and attack-y so as to bang the “look at how bad the anti-Zionists are!” drum, taken out of context screenshots, or simple enough that they can dismiss the claims with their talking points and sources that agree with their bias.

You’ll notice any ask they get that is trying to address antisemitism that is within the anti-Zionist movement is extremely short and not exactly well thought out. You’ll see ones that are full of insults and curse words attacking them that STA gets to point to and go “see how bad the Zionists are?!”.

You know I’m not a conspiracy theorist or one to jump to conclusions, our work does not endorse that kind of thinking, but it does seem suspicious that those are the only ones they will respond to.

And their friends and followers eat it up. STA, IMO, is disingenuous in their intent and their actions, and is a really bad representation of an anti-Zionist Jew in all respects. If they are one at all.

An IRL friend asked me to throw anon on so they could post this. I only throw anon on for folks I know or ones who ask me to do so. They didn't want to send it to Spot, vents, or anyone else since they, you know, actually know me.

I've had STA blocked for a long ass time so I haven't seen this pattern of only responding to certain types of anons. But taking a quick look? Yeah, seems like it.

Who knows, maybe they will actually post them now?

I doubt it (and they were likely deleted, but who knows?). And we're all very well aware of their social circle. It's a who's who of antisemites that they turn a blind eye to because they're all "anti-Zionists". It's old hat at this point, but I thought my friend added some insight into some of the shit going on.

Unfortunately they've recently broken containment and I've seen their shit across my dash. I saw that they went after applesauce a few days ago, took a screenshot out of context, and them and their followers harassed applesauce even after there was a clarification and correction regarding the post. Targeting a Jew over an out of context screenshot is antisemitic harassment, plain and simple. They keep saying that they were going after a Nazi apologist, then why not show the entire thread where applesauce clarified and apologized for what they said? Why show the singular post out of context unless the point was to harass a Jew you inherently didn't agree with because suddenly their words didn't convey what they were actually trying to say in a singular occurrence?

But they definitely fight antisemitism right?

They're also going after transmascpetewentz because they have the "audacity" to actually take into account the full context of what applesauce said and clarified. We all know what went down, what they were saying, and what they had to clarify. To which that entire thread had apologies and clarification as we would expect.

But again, we're talking about an account that rabidly goes after Zionists, or those they've labeled Zionists, and gets their followers to harass them. We're talking about an account that has only focused on "Zionism = antisemitism" and done everything it could to push the "Zionists = Nazi" narrative in some way or another.

They're definitely stopping antisemitism though.

I also saw their stuff going after cree-n-jewish (because once containment is broken it seems like the algorithm likes to keep it broken) and I can't help but shake my head at the hypocrisy. An outgroup person going after an in-group minority member by finding members of the larger minority group who agree with them. It's disingenuous at best and reminds me of all the times we had to combat anti-science misinformation online and people would be like "Well I found this one group of doctors who agrees with me so I'm right" when talking about vaccines or the 3 out of 97 scientists who disagree with climate change.

I have a pet hypothesis that they're not Jewish at all, but actually a goy who made a fake account and pretended to be their concept of Zionist all those months ago. The likely intent was to post what they thought Zionists would post and get people to agree with it. Then they'd turn around and go "See! Look how evil they are!" and have screenshots as "proof". Problem is their concept of Zionism was actually Kahanism, everyone called them out for it, as well as called them out for their ever changing origin story (Israeli to Israeli ex-pat to Jew in CT, which was fun to watch them backtrack and retcon).

Then suddenly overnight they became a raging anti-Zionist that fully embraced antisemitic rhetoric and has continuously justified it "as a Jew"? Yeah, something is off there.

There was absolutely no "hey, I'm reading these books or writings that stand opposed to Zionism and I'd like to talk about them with the greater Jewish community". There was no discussion on the subject at all. It was a sudden about face that was entirely outside of the norm, and if you know anything about our people and culture it's that we like to talk and discuss things ad nauseum amongst ourselves. The fact that there was nothing like that and their journey from Kahanist to anti-Zionist happened overnight is extremely out of the norm. Especially as they went from posting Kahanist shit to raging antisemitism and justifying violent terrorism in the blink of an eye (part of why they got their first account nuked).

So yeah, all of that plus the refusal to post your anons to them (even the ones asking for clarification and explanation) and other patterns of behavior leads me to my conclusions about them.

#jumblr #antisemitism #leftist antisemitism #Anti-Zionist antisemitism #STA is a grifter #Can't see the forest for the trees if you only obsessively focus on one thing #intersectional antisemitism #I know some people are going to be salty about this anon and my thoughts #But STA has been harassing Jews and endorsing antisemitism for months now and I had to get my thoughts out there

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moonyswarmsweaters · 23 hours ago

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No bullying is never justified

I think the way Snape grew up to be showed his character very well

I don’t care what he looks like or where he’s from an asshole is an asshole and i can not bring myself to like him whatsoever.

I know i can never please everyone or get everyone to like me as it is the way of life but I don’t assume to know nothing of you yet you talk like you cracked me down to a grain.

I make my posts firstly for me then for people who are interested and agree

I didn’t tag snape on this post i put multiple anti him tags so people who don’t want to see this won’t

This is a post i made of my opinion

I talked about why I dislike him mostly as an adult that can and should be judged on his actions

if your problem is that i made him specificly homophobic ( and kinda gay if you look at pandora tbh) it is just because I honestly don’t like him.

you are assuming all this stuff about me yet you never interacted with any of my posts before or actually know anything about me or my life

why go out of your way to make someone’s day WORST i’ll never get

Snivllus: Fuck gay people

Barty: Oh I do, every single day

Evan: Amen

Dorcas: Truely a pleasure to do, will recommend

Regulus *grinning*: My boyfriend has the same to do list

Pandora: No self deprecating thoughts out loud go away

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peter-notarabbit · 3 days ago

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hello everyone i’m peter :)

𓇼 i’m 17 🔥

𓇼 they/he pronouns please and thank you

𓇼 collecting As (just not the grades) (Agenderflux AroAce 🤟)

𓇼 Gryffindor

𓇼 German 🥨🍺

I like:

⚘ board games

⚘ cool socks

⚘ collecting things

⚘ music

⚘ my friends

⚘ plants

⚘ animals of all kind

My friends are:

biggest simp i know: @prongsie-potter

Nr. 1 chocolate lover: @lleuad-lupin

Big bad black: @its-not-that-sirius

Burn the ginger: @garden-of-lily

Rockstar impersonator: @i-am-a-simp-for-effie-potter

Sweetest soul: @mary-of-the-meadows

Legendary debater: @wizard-law-student-blog

Pandora

Simp and a dork: @dor-the-cas

Black brother #2: @regulus-is-not-drowning

Evil scientist: @rose-from-the-dark

Not an evil scientist: @raccoon-butnot

Ooc: my main is @starcrossedmoony , rp blog don't like don't interact <3

If you want to join contact @marauders-rp-account

#marauders roleplay

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hyperions-light · 3 days ago

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Good riddance to that mess: Thank the Dread Wolf we’re done with the Mage-Templar conflict

(because magic in Thedas is more interesting this way)

Okay the people who love conflict have won and I am going to talk about this now lol

I've decided to stick within the framework of the world/story for this particular post, because I think you could talk about the issues with the mages/templars in connection with how they relate to real-life groups for an entire essay AT LEAST, and I want to focus on magic here, so I don't think it's that germane to the discussion. If you all want to talk about that later, I can put it on the pile.

It turns out that Jenny Nicholson was 100% right about the efficacy of numbered lists on the internet, so this essay will be hybridized into a list. Here are the reasons I'm glad the mage-templar conflict is gone and hope it never returns:

It limits storytelling avenues I understand how they arrived at this dichotomy as the logical extrapolation of a minority of people in Thedas being born with magic BUT it's very boring and it doesn't facilitate interesting stories. If you have this strict system and hierarchy that means that every mage has to live in the tower or they're a) a criminal or b) Dalish, that seriously limits the kind of characters you can make who are mages, which is dull as both a player and a writer.

Trying to make it nuanced is difficult Attempting to show that everyone has a point in a situation is difficult when one group has absolute power over the other and can kill them whenever they feel like it. Also, with the abuses the Templars regularly perpetuate against the mages established in DAO and DA2 any attempted justification reads as the story sanctioning an oppressive force. If they try to demonstrate the danger of magic, they end up with the 10,000 blood mage problem from DA2. It's a hard thing to do within the framework they set up, but they also haven't been particularly successful with it, imo, so abandoning it is a better choice.

It's the most reductive version of the conflict Reducing the entire discussion to whether magic is good or evil, whether mages should be free or confined is really boring. It's a false dichotomy that promotes extremism in characters on either side of the conflict who never interact with one another. "Is magic bad?" is a useless and uninteresting question. Who cares? What does it do?; Where did it come from?; What different ways can you use it? are all better questions.

Makes it difficult for the audience to learn more about magic If the only characters the audience ever meets are people who come from the Circle, Dalish mages, and apostates, the amount they're going to learn about different perspectives on magic and its various uses is limited. Part of the reason Jaws of Hakkon was such an interesting DLC for DAI is because the Avvar have a completely different philosophy about magic and spirits. It was refreshing after several games of having the same ideas about magic shoved down our throats to hear someone give a different perspective and ACTUALLY NEW information. Everything I needed to know about the mage-templar conflict, I already knew by the end of DAO, but I had to sit through two more entire games while people discussed it at length.

Magic in the North is fascinating Now that we're finally rid of that conflict, look how many different kinds of magic we get to see in DATV! We get to meet a Rivaini Seer, a Mortalitasi (who can use magic to TALK TO REAL DEAD PEOPLE!!!), a non-Altus mage from the Tevinter Imperium; we get to see magic as it was utilized by the ancient elves and how it interfaces with technology. We got DWARF MAGIC!! Finally, an answer to what Sandal was doing! We found out you can use it to turn yourself into a LICH!!! All of that stuff is so cool, and we had never encountered it before this game! It brings up so many new questions about the nature of the Fade, the source of magic itself, the strength of magic in Thedas relative to other places in the world. And NONE of it could be discussed in the South because they are too busy arguing about fucking towers!!!

tl;dr: The mage-templar conflict was a boring and reductive lens through which to view magic in the DA universe, I'm glad it's gone, I hope they continue what they started in DATV and explore different ways magic can be used in the future.

#dragon age #datv spoilers #veilguard spoilers #dragon age the veilguard #dragon age: the veilguard spoilers #veilguard #dai #dao #da2 #dragon age magic #dragon age templars #dragon age mages #idk what else to tag really #hopefully this take isn't that controversial #I don't really want to argue about it but if you're polite I will discuss

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oncasette · 2 days ago

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𝟯.𝟱𝗸 𝗥𝗘𝗖 𝗟𝗜𝗦𝗧

hi everyone! i recently hit 3.5k on here and wanted to do something as a major thank you! so, in honor of the occasion, here's a much overdo fic and blog rec list!

BALDUR'S GATE III

@libbybee — i live for their astarion fics! i live for astarion either way, but i adore the way they write him!! writes for both ascended! and spawn! which is nice because i love to engage with both sides of his character.

oh, you're hard to please by @ghost-proofbaby (astarion)

alleyway affairs by @ladylarynn (astarion)

LOVE AND DEEPSPACE

@strwberri-milk — i'm so obsessed with their work and the way they write the boys (especially zayne)! such a good place to start if you're starting to delve into love and deepspace but don't know what you want to read first! also my favorite blog to stop by if i have just a little bit of time to kill and want some yummy goodness

@sylusdoll — absolutely looooooveeee their fics and everything they post. helps me get a little dose of the lads boys when i've farmed just about all i can farm in game :)

rafayel proving how beautiful you are by @astridthevalkyrie (rafayel)

what's mine by @aeyumicore (zayne)

better than the devil by @syluss-littlecrow (sylus)

a rising sun by @boobearymuch (sylus)

PETER PARKER

@webslingingslasher — writes peter parker like actually no other. the emotional damage that this blog has put me through should be STUDIED. i'm not even kidding in the slightest saying that i've laughed, cried, felt tiny, aching chest pains reading their work. you have to have to have to check them out.

nerdy!peter and video games by @webslingingslasher

something in the orange by @webslingingslasher

'is that blood?' by @bcyhoods

movies with peter by @thyme-in-a-bubble

TED LASSO

@its-time-to-write — some of the best fiction i've read in my life. nothing can compare to the way i felt last summer reading everything about jamie tartt that i could get my hands on and discovering their fics! a must read for jamie readers.

i can see you by @rqgnarok (jamie tartt)

touch deprived by @its-time-to-write (jamie tartt)

bored by @its-time-to-write (jamie tartt)

it was simple, it was sweetness, it was good to know by @beybaldes (roy kent)

TOP GUN

@gretagerwigsmuse — writes for bradley bradshaw so exquisitely and deliciously, and also has some of the best recs that they reblog

start of a silver fox by @topherwrites (jake seresin)

hey, neighbour! by @sunlightmurdock (jake seresin)

MISC.

@youvebeenlivingfictional — some of my absolute favorite fics i've read on this site! so many different fandoms that i dip my toes into, but i first discovered their blog because of their harvey specter fics! either way, definitely worth a read or few!!!

@dixonsbrat — their fics evoke a really lovely sense of warmth within me! also write for a whole bunch of different characters, namely stranger things and outer banks (but also my lovely lovely astarion)

@thyme-in-a-bubble — again, writes for sooo many of my blorbos! i absolutely adore their fluffier fics, but also gets down and dirty with some of the nastiest smut i've read. love them and their blog vibes so so much!

@ohcaptains — everyone's probably SICK of hearing me talk about their blog, but i will never shut up about them actually. i will read for fandoms i've never been interested in or, honestly, ever heard of just because i love the way they write soooo much

@bruisedboys — i love love love them and the way they write for their characters!! always a blog i can go to if i know i need a good fixing of one of my pookies

@anqeliclust — one of the sweetest blogs i’ve met on my time on here!! always so lovely to talk to and i adore everything they post!

@dameronscopilot — one of the first blogs i fell in loooovvvveee with. there’s fics that they’ve posted that i read years ago when i started my blog and i still think about them to this day

@ladylannisterxo — always seems to be right on track with whatever my hyperfixation may be!! i love interacting with them and seeing them on my dash!!

warmer than a comforter by @evieelyzabethh (spike btvs)

#fic rec

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nottonyharrison · 18 hours ago

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It's time to say goodbye

Earlier this year, I made the tough decision to close my Patreon as my time dwindled, and my attention shifted to another hobby I am passionate about. I've stopped dithering over it, and have now set some firm dates.

On the 30th of December (NZ time), I will be suspending all payments, and on 28 January I will be unpublishing my Patreon page entirely.

What this means, is if you've ever wanted to be a member, or have been considering rejoining to gain access to any images you have missed, you have until 29 December to join up, and then until 28 January to download and save anything you would like to be able to look back on in the future.

Here is the public post I have shared on my Patreon if you would like to read more about this.

Thank you to everyone who's ever supported me over there, whatever fandom you are part of, and to anyone who's ever interacted with my art here on tumblr. While this might be the end, I will never forget the time I've spent sharing my work with you, and how grateful I am that I got to experience it.

#my art

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thezombieprostitute · 2 days ago

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Unwanted - Part 6

Summary: Your life is no longer yours. You've been forced into becoming a different species of human. Bought and paid for, what can you do but follow orders and obey your Alpha?

Warnings: Allusions to surgery, human trafficking, kidnapping; Angst; Depression; Suicidal thoughts. Let me know if I missed any!

A/N: Reader is described as big & tall, is female. No other descriptors used.

A/N2: This series is revived thanks to @the-slumberparty's December Daze Challenge. The prompt: Sharing New Traditions.

Word Count: ~1.7k

Part 5 -- Part 7

Series Masterlist

It's taken about a week but you tell Natasha you think you're ready to meet some other people. She promises to start with just one person, Sam, her Beta and the Community Manager. While Steve and Nat could work well with small groups, Sam could work with just about any size group and had the ability to coordinate packs and keep the community running, if not thriving. Nat's pretty sure it's part of why the three of them make for such a good pack together, they compliment each other's strengths and make up for their short comings.

"You're actually arriving at a good time," Sam tells you. "We're getting ready for our Solstice Celebration. It'll be a good way to introduce you to the community."

"Won't that be a little overwhelming?" Nat asks on your behalf.

"If she were a part of the celebration, sure." Sam turns to you, "the majority of the community will be dancing and singing in celebration of the days getting longer. But, if you're okay with it, we'll have you with the kids who are still learning the steps and the words."

You nod, not bothered at all by being put with the kids. It's been forever since you've interacted with any and, even before the operation, you enjoyed taking care of them.

"With everyone's focus on the celebration, it should be easier on you," Sam continues. "You'll be meeting a lot of people, yes, but you won't have everyone's attention."

Nat nods in her understanding, "good play, Sam."

Sam winks at her and she smiles. Even if you didn't know they were mates their behavior would have given it away. They're actually very sweet together.

"Will I need to wear anything specific? Do I need to cook? What all is expected of me?" You mentally start going through your meager possessions trying to think of what might be appropriate.

"Maybe in the old days," Sam tells you. "But we've adapted to the times, and not just for the sake of those who weren't born into this life." You give him a puzzled look and he explains, "it seems like ever since humans found out people like us exist they've been trying to figure us out, experimenting on us, and the like. Nat, Steve and Bucky, who you'll meet later, were all natural born like myself but they got operated on 'for science' or other such bullshit." He squeezes Nat's hand as she snuggles against him.

"And then there are cases, like you, where some of our own, in a misguided attempt to save our species, have made others to be like us. Usually they result in betas, but you're existence is evidence that they're getting better at controlling designations."

You face drops a little as you absentmindedly start rubbing on the scars on your neck. Two mating glands forced into your neck and two scent glands forced into your wrists. All of them pumping you full of unknown hormones that caused changes that even more surgeries helped make permanent.

Your thoughts are interrupted by two pairs of arms holding you tight. "Sorry about that," Sam hurriedly apologizes. "I didn't mean to spark the bad memories. Just wanted to let you know you're not alone while giving you some answers for what to expect."

"I understand," you nod.

Nat interjects, "I'm still willing to hit him if you want me to."

That makes you laugh, and they let go of you as they continue talking about the Solstice Event.

Sure enough, your presence at the Solstice Event is met with great acclaim, but it's in bits and pieces as everyone is busy with preparations. The only person who doesn't leave you alone is a little girl named Grace. She's excited she's not the oldest person sticking around the kids.

"I'm already 11," she tells you. "If Papa had been able to bring me here sooner, maybe I'd be with the other middle-schoolers."

"Why isn't your Papa here learning as well?"

"He was accepted into the packs several years ago. It's only recently that he was able to bring me in."

"I wonder why that is," you muse.

"It's because I'm an outsider," Grace grumbles. "Papa was taken when I was little. Apparently he was like you, and they hurt him. But he ended up here! And he met Curtis, my new Dad! So now I have two parents again! But Papa says he had to fight to get me here because I'm...I'm not..." You interrupt Grace with a big hug and she seems to settle down. "Are...are you purring?" She gasps.

The realization startles you. You didn't even know you could do that! Yet you both know that's what you were doing.

"I'm...I'm sorry," you stammer. "I didn't realize I was doing it."

"That's amazing!" Grace counters. "I didn't know I could be affected by it! Dad's Alpha purrs sometimes help against nightmares but they're nothing compared to what you did!"

Heat rushes to your face. "I'm not sure what I did was appropriate, though," you whisper. "I don't want to mess up social conventions or something."

"Let's get Ms. Nat, then!" Grace runs off before you can catch her.

Taking Nat and Sam's earlier warnings into consideration you do your best to keep your emotions under control. You don't want to throw off the celebration or get more unwanted attention because you're distressed. You go through some of the breathing techniques Nat helped you learn.

"I couldn't find Nat so I brought Papa instead," Grace declares, interrupting your thoughts.

The first thing you notice about Grace's Papa is his deep blue eyes that have a tinge of wildness to them. His smile is polite, but also genuine, you see where Grace gets hers from. He's wearing a scarf around his neck, reminding you of Grace's mention of his past being similar to your own. You wonder if you could ask him where he gets his from.

He holds out his hand, "I'm Jefferson, Grace's father."

You take his hand in yours, giving him your name. "Nice to meet you." That's when his scent hits you. It's like you opened up a tea and spice cupboard, a little chaotic but very pleasant. You have to fight the urge to go for a deeper scent.

Jefferson seems to pick up on your reaction and he immediately releases your hand. He takes a moment to steady himself before coughing, "so Grace tells me your purring helped her calm down?"

"Oh, yes," you admit, embarrassment burning your cheeks. "We...neither of us knew if it was okay for me to do that or not. I don't want to disrupt things, even out of ignorance."

"It's absolutely okay," Jefferson assures. "If there's anything I've learned in the years since..." he touches his scarf before shaking his head. "If there's one thing I've learned since...joining this community, it's that taking care of each other is always allowed. You were taking care of my little girl. Thank you for that."

You breath a sigh of relief, calm taking you over. Jefferson's eyes widen a little as he takes in your scent. "I think I can tell why Grace was able to relax so much with you. You're a very...sweet person."

You smile shyly, "thank you."

"Papa, can you stay with us? You can be the one to each us the dance moves, right?"

Jefferson laughs, "I suppose in the spirit of the Solstice, of sharing new traditions, I could ask Curtis to teach you."

"Oh, even better!" Grace runs off, you assume to go find Curtis.

As soon as she's out of sight, Jefferson turns to you, his expression serious. "I had to work for a very long time to get them to find Grace and get her away from her adoptive parents. Had to beg, plead, damn near put a gun to someone's head to get her back in my life. Do be careful with her."

"Of...of course. I...I'd never...I wouldn't..." you stammer, caught off guard by his sudden change.

He smiles again, "just being careful. She's my life and you're a stranger."

"Of course," you nod.

When Grace returns she's got a giant of a man in tow. His bright blue eyes are shining with happiness as lets her lead him around. He gives Jefferson a little kiss as a greeting, his smile never wavering, until he caught your scent.

"You're the new Omega," he says, eyebrows raised. He turns to Grace, "and you're telling me she helped you where I couldn't?" Grace nods, smile wide.

He holds out his hand, "I'm Curtis. It would be an honor to teach you and Grace. I'll go ask Sarah if it would be okay for me to take over the tutorials."

"Th--thank you, Curtis." When you take his hand to introduce yourself your hit by his scent as well. It's the scent of a walking into a warm house on a cold day. Combined with Jefferson's, you feel like you're wrapped up in a warm blanket, drinking hot tea as it snows outside. It's the most comforting combination you've ever felt.

You quickly back away, head full of unwanted thoughts. "I'm...I'm not sure I should be out here."

"Are you okay? What's wrong?" Grace is quick to grab your hand and try to pull you in for a hug. "Are you sure you can't stay and learn with me?"

"Um..." you look from her to her parents, both men are looking at you with knowing expressions.

"It'll be okay," Curtis soothes, rubbing Jefferson's cheek. "We'll just make sure you've got plenty of space for fresh air, okay?"

"You sure?" Jefferson whispers to him.

Curtis nods. "We'll let her have some space as she learns. Grace can be her primary teacher."

Grace hops up and down, "yes, please!" She turns back to you. "Please?"

You smile a little, "I don't know how anyone could say 'no' to that face."

Part 5 -- Part 7

Series Masterlist

Tagging: @alicedopey; @delicatebarness; @dontbescaredtosingalong; @icefrozendeadlyqueen;

@irishhappiness; @lokislady82;

@lolitsthings @peyton-warren; @ronearoundblindly ; @startcarvingdarling; @thiquefunlover63

#big & tall!reader #tall!reader #omega!reader #tall!omega #omegaverse #tall reader #beta!jefferson #jefferson ouat #alpha!curtis everett #navy and roo's sleepover

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