#And now I’m reaping the consequences! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

eraenaa · 2 months

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Still Casual?

Part two of Casual

Rafe Cameron x Reader

Summary: You promised yourself that you’re never going to settle for casual ever again— promised yourself you would never be another casualty of Rafe Cameron.

Warnings: ¿Groveling?, Mentions of Substance Use, P in V Sex, Oral Sex (F & M receiving {69}), Very Slight use of Force, Not Proofread

Word Count: 4,681

It was forthcoming; the warning signs were clear and loud, and red flags were waving, but you ignored them and proceeded without caution. Now, you must reap the consequence of living for the hope of it all. You returned home quickly after seeing such a scene at Rafe’s party. It was pathetic, but you kept looking at your phone in hopes that he would leave a message or even call you, wondering why you didn’t come. But why would he? He was preoccupied and entertained by a new ever-lovely jewel— what need would he have of you? You couldn’t even let yourself cry— you couldn’t even mourn because what is there to mourn? You could not grieve something that was casual. It would be foolish of you to do so.

Now, you lay in your room trying to convince yourself that it was not as deep as you had believed it to be. That it should not affect you this greatly. Convincing yourself to be numb as your heart beats betrayal. You have betrayed yourself because you desired more— regretted your actions because you had settled for casual.

You hesitated to call your friends and tell them what had happened, fearing they say, “I told you so” and “I warned you,” but they were gracious enough to keep those thoughts to themselves, suggesting you should visit them in the city and keep your mind off Rafe, which was difficult to do whilst on the island. It was a spontaneous decision, but with one message to your parents telling them that you’ll be going to New York and that you’ll need to borrow their jet and them replying with a thumbs up, you were quick to go wheels up and fly away from the outer banks.

“So, is it over now? Did you break it off with him?” Your friends asked as you gathered for brunch in the city. You frowned at their question, “What’s there to break off? We weren’t anything,” You mumbled. “Exactly, you weren’t anything! Why, then, are you so wounded?” Your friend, who was notorious for being frank and a tad insensitive, asked. You stayed quiet, not wanting to word out that you had optimism that your dalliance with Rafe would turn into something more. “You know what you should do?” Your friend asked, and you waited for them to finish their thought. “Give him a taste of his own medicine— the last time I was there, weren’t there two guys fighting for your attention? Use them and flaunt to Rafe this casualness he’s insisting on,” They suggested, and you scrunched up your nose in disagreement.

“I’m not gonna do that! I… I’m not gonna use some innocent guy as a tool in the hopes of making Rafe jealous! That’s just mean and petty; besides, it might not even work.” You reasoned. “I just don’t want casual anymore. I want an actual relationship.” You sighed and locked eyes with your two closest friends. “You know what you have to do, don’t you?’ They asked, and you dejectedly nodded your head. “It’s just… if I end our arrangement, it means it’ll be the end of all that great sex,” you solemnly said, making your friends laugh at your admittance. “Oh, come on, it can’t be that great,” your friend scoffed in doubt, but you shook your head. “It is…I— the other night, he made me come seven times…seven! I could barely walk the next day,” you whispered, feeling heat rise to your cheeks as you recalled that memory.

“Really? Seven times?” Your friend asked, intrigued, and you nodded your head, seeing the slight bewilderment in their eyes. “No! That’s beside the point! You deserve someone better— like those guys in those movies and books you love! Not this… frat bro who uses women as his cock warmer!” You sighed and nodded your head in agreement. “I knew you moving to North Carolina was a mistake,” Your friend sighed, “You’re too good for that place— it’s practically Florida!” Your friends said it with disgust, and you laughed at their snobbiness. You spent a week in the city, your friends trying hard to preoccupy your mind and show that you deserved better than Rafe. That you should never settle again— that tens or even hundreds of guys would treat you better than he would. Taking you to bars and parties from Brooklyn to the Upper East Side just to find a guy that would take your mind off of Rafe, none did the job.

You went back to the Outer Banks feeling a bit better, your friends finally convincing you to remove any casual attachments because, knowing you, you would stay for more and be subjected to being one of Rafe’s playthings as long as he’d hold you in his arms. You were about to message him, asking him to meet you by the beach to halt your affairs with him and end your casual relationship. But before you could even type out the message, the doorbell rang, and you heard the hushed voice of the housemaid talking with Rafe. You furrowed your brows but stayed in your spot, not wanting to check if it was actually Rafe because if he saw you now, you would have no choice but to halt and cut ties.

“Where were you? I’ve been calling you since last week, and you’ve been ignoring my calls and messages.” Your back was against him as he found you in the dining room. Your knees felt weak as you heard the deep baritone of his voice and the distinct smell of his cologne. You gathered the courage to face him, “I was in New York,” You reasoned and tried hard not to show hesitancy on your face. “Is that why you missed my party? I was waiting for you, and I even got that expensive ass wine you like because you don’t drink beer,” Rafe asked, walking towards you; his voice held confusion and, dare you say, sadness or hurt because you ceased contact with him for almost two weeks.

You backed away towards the table and shook your head, willing yourself to stay strong and not grow soft by his charms or be attracted by his look; it was impossibly hard to do so. “No… I… went to your party,” You said, watching as Rafe’s brows shit in surprise, him inching towards you. “And, uhm… whilst I was there, I realized something.” You added and backed yourself toward the dining room table, nowhere to go as Rafe stood inches from you. “What?” He asked, trying to capture your gaze, but you were staring at the floor. You took a deep breath before the words left your lips, uncertain and fearing how he would react. Surely, he won’t react badly, right? You were just casual; he won’t be throwing a fit because you decided to end your dalliance. It won’t affect him; it won’t anger or sadden him. And the thought of him being unaffected wounded you.

“I…I realized I don’t want this. I don’t want casual.” You explained. There was a beat of silence, and you finally lifted your gaze to see the confusion in Rafe’s blue eyes. “What… I don’t understand. I— you wanted this,” He said, and you watched the concussion in his eyes hide slight anger. “I thought I did. I thought I could do casual, but Rafe…” You sighed and stepped aside to put distance between the two of you. “Rafe, I’m a relationship type of girl; I like— I need commitment.” You explained. Rafe scoffed and shook his head, following you in the direction where you had walked off. “What is this? Some type of ultimatum? Now what? You’re trapping me in a relationship?” He spat, and you frowned at his words.

“No, I’m doing the opposite! Rafe, I want commitment; I want an actual relationship, and I am completely aware that that is the last thing you want, which is why I don’t think we should see each other anymore,” You reasoned, growing frightened as the rage in his eyes was peeking through. “So what? You’re breaking up with me?” He gritted out, walking towards you, but you shook your head and walked further from him. “No, to break up with you meant we were in a relationship. You made it perfectly clear to me and to everyone that we weren’t,” The anger went quiet on his face, confusion covering it once more. “Nothing but a pastime— purely physical,” You sighed, reciting the words he thought you did not hear him say. You hear his heavy sigh, and an excuse was ready to be uttered from his lips. “I don’t wanna be your hobby anymore,”

You walked off and heard him follow you towards the front door. “Baby, no— I,” You shook your head and felt proud of yourself as his little endearment did not waver your judgment. Continuing to open the door and motioned for him to leave. “I’ll see you around, Rafe,” You tried to smile and gently pushed him out of your home, out of your life.

Two days passed since your last encounter with Rafe, and you finally decided to leave the solace of your home and venture to… anywhere. You knew you could not go about the country club for a round of tennis, knowing Rafe often frequents there for a round of golf. And you could not as well accept the invitation of Weezy and Sarah to hang out in their home. So you headed to the beach, to a cafe that had an incomparable view of the ocean.

You were sitting by the window, your gaze shifting between the book you had brought and the crash of waves. Your quiet and focus were disrupted by the sound of a chair scraping and a presence appearing beside you. “That’s a good book,” You turned to your right in confusion, only to be met with blue eyes and a charming smirk on a familiar face. “You haven’t read, let alone heard of this book, Rafe,” you sighed, scooting further from him to keep your distance.

Rafe clenched his jaw as he felt you inch further from him. Gathering your things to leave. “How long are you gonna keep up with this, huh? Come on, you may not want casual, but you cannot lie and say you don’t want me as well,” Rafe followed you out as you hurriedly walked away from him. You sighed and shook your head, mumbling “Wanted,” as a correction for Rafe’s statement. “What?” He asked and took hold of your hand as you started to walk off once more. “Wanted. It’s in the past; I no longer want casual, and I no longer want you. Just leave this be, Rafe.” You tried to act civil, and respectful. Trying to maintain civility and not burn a bridge that, in all honesty, you would very much like to keep.

You feel his hold on your hand tighten slightly and see the rage in his eye, trying hard to be suppressed. “You have tens of girls waiting to be your next casualty, Rafe. Let’s leave this be… it has run its course. I don’t want meaningless hookups, and it’s clear that that is all you could give me.” Rafe’s jaw clenched as the truth slipped from your lips. “Bye, Rafe,” You said once more and started to walk away from him. “What do I have to do for us to go back to the way it was?” He called after a while; you wanted to groan as he followed you once more. “Come on, baby. I’ll give you a ride home, and we can talk about it… please,” You were starting to grow frustrated as his hands placed themselves on your waist again; it was shameful that it quickly brought back the need in you.

“No, I’ll walk. And Rafe…you can’t have to do anything for us to go back to the way that it was— I don’t want to go back to the way that it was. I have explained it to you thrice now. I don’t want casual!” You were practically screaming, and you hated that you lost composure. You wanted to go about this whole situation maturely, but Rafe was a test of your patience. “God, you’re so hot when you’re angry.” Was all he said, a teasing twinkle in his eyes and a smirk returned to his lips. You scoffed and rolled your eyes, turning away from him as you were now desperate to leave. But Rafe never relinquished his hold of you, only pulling you close and smashed your lips. You kept your jaw clenched as he eagerly tried to solicit a reaction from you— kissed you fervently as he was desperate that you would reciprocate his kiss. You hear him groan and let out a frustrated sigh as he parted for air. “Enough, Rafe. It’s done; we’re through with this.” You sternly said and wiped your lips of him.

A week has passed since Rafe kissed you. And you would admit, you were feeling withdrawals. You were missing him. Missing the way he held you close in sleep, with him burying his face in the crook of your neck or in your hair, and the way his arms would wrap around you so tightly yet so comfortingly. You missed how he would kiss your lips first thing in the morning and last thing in the night. You missed how he would bring pints you ice cream after taking Weezy to the ice cream parlor. You missed how he made you feel wanted— how he made you feel like you were the only one to bring him such blinding pleasure when you laid. You missed how you thought that you were made for him and how he was made for you. You missed Rafe. But not wholly enough to settle to be one of his girls once more.

You were having a rare family dinner, and your parents finally came back from their trip and decided to stay home for at least a week and it went by quickly, with this being their last night and them flying off first thing tomorrow morning. You tried not to appear sullen— to actually enjoy their company, but it was difficult as Rafe was the constant thought in your head. You were seated in the dining room, your parents discussing their next trips and asked about your recent venture to New York, when the doorbell rang. You oddly felt your heart spike as you heard shuffling when your maid went to see who the visitor was. You licked your lips as you heard the far-off sound of Rafe calling for you, your maid entering the dining room and whispering that he came here for you. You excused yourself from your parents and hastily went to the front door, horrid to see the state Rafe was in.

His eyes were bloodshot, and his form more rigid. There was a thing sheen of sweat on his forehead, and he smelt of booze, and your eyes did not miss the smidge of white powder on the side of his nose. He was fucking high.

“Hi, baby… you look so pretty,” He slurred as he stumbled closer to you. You were mortified that he could be seen by your parents, especially in such a state. “Oh, you’re wearing one… one of those going out dresses,” he mumbled again, his hand going to your waist and feeling the fabric of your dress. “Are you on a fucking date? What? You fucking replaced me already, huh? Is that it?” He was no longer mumbling; his mellow state turned to rage, and you looked back down the hall, fearing your parents heard. “Rafe, shh… my parents are here; they cannot see you like this.” You tried to push him out, but he resisted, now more determined to step foot further into your house. “Like what? Are you ashamed of me? Is that why you ended it?” You stared up at him with him with a deep frown. You hear your parents call for you, and you feel your stomach twist in fear.

You weighed your options; you could not let your parents see Rafe, but you could not push him out of your home and leave him in such a state. So you had no choice but to guide him towards your room once more. “Hm… I knew you couldn’t resist me. I missed you so much; I missed the way you would scr—“ You shushed him and made him sit on your bed, “I’ll be back— I still have dinner with my parents.” You said and hoped your mother and father would not grow suspicious of your absence.

Your emotions were mixed as Rafe wrapped his strong arms around your waist as you stood before him. He nuzzled his face on your torso and hummed in satisfaction. “I missed you, baby… tell me you missed me too,” He mumbled against your frame. You tried to push him away, but he would only whine and hold you tighter. You had the faintest clue on how to handle him in a drunken and high state— he never was neither of those things whilst you two had your arrangements. “Rafe, please, my parents are getting suspicious. I’ll come back in a while.” You looked down at Rafe, who looked up to you with such vulnerability in his eyes that you had never seen. “I promise I’ll be back,” you sighed and kissed his cheek as a reassurance. Rafe finally relinquished his hold, and you ran back to the dining room and prayed your parents wouldn’t ask too many questions.

Dinner somehow lasted for hours. Your parents were insistent on doing some bonding after many months away, playing board games, and even watching one of your favorite childhood movies. It was nice, you admit, to spend more time with your parents, but the thought of Rafe trying to sober up in your room and that he might be caught caused you to shrink in fear and panic.

It was nearing midnight when you finally returned to your room, and you saw Rafe newly showered and waiting for you by the foot of your bed. “Do you want water?” You asked as you saw that he had sobered up. “No, I’m fine,” He said, but he could not meet your eyes. There was a moment of tense and awkward silence between the two of you. “You should… you should probably go,” You sighed and moved to the other side of your room to remove the earrings you adorned.

Rafe did not utter a word, and you bit your lip as you turned to him. “Why?” He asked after a quiet moment. “Why did you end it?” He asked, and you felt exhaustion wash over you. “Rafe, I told you, I realized I don’t want casual, and that is all you are capable of. I’m not going to force myself and my wish for commitment upon you.” Rafe shook his head, “No. You were perfectly fine with our arrangement— what the fuck changed?” You licked your lips and thought twice if you should share with him your moment of realization. “I went to your party.” You stated and took your seat next to him. You saw from the side of your eye that Rafe had a frown on his face as he tried to take hold of your hand. “I went to your party and saw you making out with another girl… and there I realized that I can’t be casual. I can’t be the chill girl who settles for sharing someone they really like.”

“You really like me?” Rafe asked, ignoring all your other statements. You couldn’t help but laugh as a boyish grin spread across his lips. “Liked, is the key word here,” You say with a small smile, but the grin on his lips faltered.

“I don’t want casual.” Rafe suddenly announced and humorlessly laughed with a shake of your head. “You’re just saying that because you want us to fuck again,” There was a sting in your heart as you said the words. “No,” He denied, and you shook your head, standing up to put distance between the two of you. “Can you fucking stop walking away from me!” He gritted out and pulled you to sit beside him once more. “I never saw this as casual, okay?” You scoffed at his lie. “It’s true!” He defended, “Rafe, I heard you with your friends— you told me on three occasions what we are. I saw you making out with a girl! You saw me as nothing but casual!”

“I don’t think you know what casual really is,” Rafe sighed and cupped your cheek; you tried to shift his hold, but you grew weak as you missed the way his large, calloused palm cupped your cheek. “If we were just casual, I wouldn’t have spent every moment of my free time with you. I wouldn’t be staying with you after we had sex and hold you ‘till we fall asleep. If we were casual, I wouldn’t attempt to cook you breakfast or go with you to those bookstores for hours just to hold the things you wanted to buy… I wouldn’t have told you about my issues with my dad, let alone let you meet my family! Baby, it was never casual.” You chewed on your lips as you felt your heart flutter, but your mind was battling with it. “You were kissing another girl— you bragged to your friends that I was nothing but a pastime.”

“Those were mistakes. Topper was giving me a hard time— kept teasing me of how whipped I was with you and… I just wasn’t ready to admit it,” You bit your tongue as you felt the want to let a small smile slip your lips. “And at the party?” You instead asked, reminding yourself of the reason why you had the epiphany that you and Rafe could not work out. “It was a bigger mistake,” Rafe sighed, and you feel his thumb caressing your cheek, straying to touch your lips. “But it only made me realize more clearly that all I want to kiss and hold— the only one I want is you,” You leaned in closer to his touch. Ignoring the fact that your friends would be dismayed by your actions because you faltered by his words and his touch. “Do you believe me?” He asked as his face was inching closer to yours. You could not utter a word, but instead, you just moved to kiss his lips that you had desperately missed.

“Rafe,” You mewled as his lips moved to your neck and his hand gripped your bosom. “You missed me, haven’t you, baby? Admit it, pretty girl,” Rafe hummed and nipped your skin but quickly soothed it with his tongue. You feel his ringed hand grips your thigh, his hand trailing up higher and higher. “Say it, pretty baby, tell me how much you’ve missed me,” Rafe practically growled. “Oh god, I missed you— so much,” You finally uttered and moved to straddle and push him down on the bed. You heard Rafe chuckle as it was your turn to pepper kisses on his neck. You feel his strong hands grip the flesh of your ass, and he guides you to grind upon him. “Let me prove to you that you’re the only one I want— will ever want, for that matter.” You gasped as Rafe barbarically ripped off your dress. “Rafe, that was couture,” You distractedly said as the fine dress was torn. “Baby, I don’t fucking care, I’ll buy you a new one.” He said and caught your lips as his hands fondled your exposed breasts, and your fingers tugged at the hem of his shirt.

Your hands trailed the skin of his exposed chest, feeling the contours of his impressive physique, and your hands hesitated and hovered over his trousers. You looked Rafe into his blue eyes, “All yours, baby, I’m all fucking yours,” He growled and harshly kissed your lips as your hand slipped into his trousers and grasped his length that was already hard and throbbing. Rafe had no patience and slipped off his pants himself, smirking as you marveled at his length and your mouth practically salivated at the sight of him.

“Tell me what you want, baby. Use your words,” Rafe whispered and nipped the lobe of your ear, making you whimper. “You… I want you,” You sighed as his fingers played with the sensitive buds of your breast. “Hm… what else?” Rafe urged, wanting to hear you foul and lewd— wanting you to utter your desires. “I… want… I want to suck you off and then fuck me after,” You whispered, staring into once clear blue eyes that now turned dark with lust and want. You gasped as Rafe altered your position. Him lying on your bed with your cunt hovering over his face. His hands guide you to lower yourself for your sex to meet his lips and your lips to meet his length.

You could not hold in the moan as his hands forced you to shift all of your weight atop him, and his hand gripped your hair whilst your tongue traced the length of his pulsating member. “Rafe… oh fuck,” You cried as his tongue darted in and out of you, and you finally gathered the courage to take him into your mouth. You had difficulty before; you had quite a sensitive gag reflex, and Rafe’s massive length tested that. “Such a good girl taking me in the pretty mouth… so fucking good, baby.” Rafe praised against your cunt and granted as your cunt grounded itself on his face in search of further friction. Rafe felt the back of your throat squeeze him, and he feared he might spill himself in your mouth; that could not be. He needed to feel you around him before he could let himself feel such pleasurable release.

You tried to catch your breath as Rafe repositioned you once more, you straddling him again. You buried your head in the crook of his neck as you sank down on his length. You hear Rafe wince in pleasure and pain as you sink into his cock and as you bit down on his shoulder blade. “So fucking tight… all fucking mine,” Rafe gritted as he was finally fully sheathed into you. “Rafe,” You called as you felt tears threatening to spill at the sensation of him being buried deep inside. “This is what you wanted, huh? You wanted to be fucked by me— only me,” You mindlessly nod your head as you feel him brush over a spot that muddle your mind and made your senses only feel pleasure. Rafe buried his face between your heaving chest and inhaled the scent of you deeply. Your hands scratched his back, making tingles reach the bottom of his spine, spurring him closer to climax.

And though Rafe was desperate for release— he was addicted to the feel of your clinging and clenching around him, to the sweet moans that spewed out of your plump lips, and the tears of pleasure that cascaded down your cheeks. He wanted to savor you in such a state for a few moments more, even if it meant he denied himself the pleasure he had been seeking for the past two weeks. “Rafe… I’m— fuck, Ra…” You could not even finish or properly word out your sentence as pleasure consumed you. “Fucking hell,” Rafe gritted and tilted his head back as he felt your release trigger his own.

You breathed heavily as you waited for him to spill himself inside you. Trying to compose your mind and control your breathing. You took his face between your hands, looking deeply into his eyes. “Still casual?” You breathlessly asked. Rafe shook his head and gripped your waist tightly. “Never casual.”

Thank you guys for the support on "Casual" <3

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tallulah477 · 6 months

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Front Row Seat

Part 2 of Private Show

Kinktober Day 25: Caught Masterbating

Pairing: Lo'ak x Fem!Human!Reader

Warnings: AgedUp!Lo’ak, Masterbating, Caught masterbating, Mutual masterbation, Oral (female receiving), Cumming untouched (kinda . . . Lo’ak cums from the smallest of touches), Size Difference, Dom reader, Sub Lo’ak, Slight edging/orgasm delay, Lo’ak being so gone for reader it’s actually embarrassing, He’s such a simp and so in love, Obsessive behavior, Brief mention of panic / panic attack, One mention of dismemberment

A/N: Honestly, idk how this got so long lol

Word Count: 4.9K

Summary: Lo'ak's been avoiding you ever since the incident. But you're looking for him, and you want your own private show . . . with a front row seat.

Translations:

Tewng - Loincloth

Tsahìk - Spiritual Leader

Iknimaya - Na'vi Rite of Passage

Olo’eyktan - Clan Leader

Swoasey - Kava bowl (constructed from seed pods, used for drinking intoxicating beverages), handsized

Yawne - Beloved

Lo’ak feels like his heart is going to pound right out of his chest.

He can feel the panic setting in as he paces the length of the hut. He can’t believe that happened. How could he be so stupid?

You saw him.

You saw him - you know what he’s been doing. Know how he’s been creeping on you, watching you through your window at night when you’re supposed to be alone. Know that he’s seen you dance in your room, twirling around as the music moves through you, naked and carefree as the day you were born.

You know that he’s seen you touch yourself . . . and has touched himself to the sight in return.

His hands fly up to cover his face, the cool skin of his hands doing nothing to calm the fire blazing on his cheeks as he groans in distress.

Neteyam looks over at him from where he’s kneeling and carving some new arrows for his bow, hairless brows furrowed in worry. “Are you okay?”

Lo’ak groans again, muffled by the hard press of his palms before he rips his hands away. “No, bro. I’m not okay. I’m so far from okay,”

“What did you do?”

“Fucked up,” Lo’ak grunts and crosses his arms across his chest, just to do something with them. “I fucked up bad.”

Neteyam just continues to look at him, waiting for him to continue with a slight arch of his brow.

“So, I watch y/n through her window at night sometimes . . .”

“Oh, Great Mother,”

“Shut up! I know,” Lo’ak snaps, hands flying back up to cover his face. “I know. But she caught me. She caught me, bro! What the fuck do I do?”

There’s a pause of silence before Neteyam bursts out laughing, earning a frustrated hiss from Lo’ak and two solid middle fingers.

“You’re not fucking helping,” Lo’ak growls.

“How am I supposed to help you?” Neteyam asks, still trying to stifle his mirth. “You’re fucked, brother. You messed up and now you’re going to have to reap the consequences of your actions.”

“She’s going to kill me! She’s already looking for me. I heard her asking Kiri if she knew where I was,”

Neteyam shrugs. “Just get it over with. Apologize to her. Maybe it won’t be as bad as you think,”

Lo’ak bites his lip, pressure building in his chest as he thinks of all the ways this could go so bad.

What if you told Kiri what he did? Neteyam can laugh it off because he’s got his own little obsession going on with another Na’vi girl, so he understands the desperate need to constantly see her and be around her. Kiri, on the other hand - she’s a girl. She wouldn’t understand. She’d feel violated, angry at a fellow female being objectified and put in a compromising position. She’d never look at him the same way.

Or what if you told his dad? Jake would be so upset with him. He would be even more of a disappointment to his father than he already is.

“Can you just,” Lo’ak grits out through clenched teeth. “Can you just help me?”

“Maybe you can just say you were out for a walk and thought you heard something?” Neteyam tries, going back to his carving. “You just wanted to make sure everything was okay, right? No harm done. Sounds believable,”

“I was, uh- touching myself . . . when she caught me,”

“Yeah, but that window is higher up, right? So she only saw your face?”

Lo’ak grimaces, scratching the back of his neck uncomfortably. “Yeah, but– I left my tewng there though,”

Neteyam stops his carving and stares at Lo’ak, deadpan expression covering his face. “You can’t be helped,”

Lo’ak avoids you as best as he can, but it’s hard.

You’re everywhere all of a sudden. Helping his grandmother in the Tsahìk’s tent, assisting the cooks with skinning and cutting the various meats and fruits for the communal last meal, even offering to watch Tuk a couple of times (which gave Lo’ak the scare of his life when he was about to enter his family’s tent only to hear your sweet voice giggle from inside it).

He’s trying his best to stay away, purposefully taking the long way around where he knows you’ll be just to avoid you seeing him. He avoids dinner a few times, feigning illness. And when he is at dinner, he makes sure to stay close to his family who he’s hopeful can act as a buffer between him and the knife you’re sure to use when you try to dismember him.

But he can’t stay away for long. The constant need to be around you is too much. He needs to see you, to hear your beautiful voice and experience the way the world is just brighter, happier, better when you’re around. Before he was able to just exist in your presence, never really the center of your attention, but sometimes he was blessed enough to have your eyes locked on his for a few seconds, blunt teeth grinning up at him as your plump lips wrapped around the words ‘Hi, Lo’ak,”.

And it was enough - enough interaction for him to be able to go back to his family’s hut, slide the privacy curtain shut in his alcove and shove his hand in his tewng, thinking about your pretty smile and your soft voice saying his name as he fists his cock like an animal. Your words, a never ending mantra of Hi, Lo’ak, echoing in his ears as he ruts into his hand faster, whining and moaning as he fucks his fist, his own whimpers of ‘fuck’ and ‘hi’ filling the alcove as he prays to Eywa that no one else is home to hear his shame.

He can’t not be around you. He needs you, needs you like he needs air in his lungs to breathe. So, this whole avoiding you thing? It’s not working for him. He can’t go on like this - can’t keep creeping around his own village, hiding behind huts and trees, and trying to move stealthily among his fellow clan members in hopes that you won’t see him. He wants you to see him - wants your beautiful, shining eyes looking up at him. He wants to stare back into their depths as you tell him those three words he longs to hear, and have them actually be the meaning he hopes for and not just ‘I see you . . . looking at me through my window’.

He makes it about a week before things hit the fan.

Tonight is night for celebration - three new members of the clan have been reborn, joining the rank of Warriors and becoming one of The People after successfully completing their iknimaya. The celebration is grand, music and dancing fill the center of the village as the clan celebrates the success of their young members. As the son of the Olo’eyktan and a fellow warrior himself, Lo’ak is required to attend.

He knows you see him. He’s already impossible to miss, standing next to his father who is wearing his feathered, ceremonial attire - but for the first time that week, you’re not actively trying to get to him. Instead, it’s almost like you’re back in your room, by yourself, and unknowingly giving him a private dance just for him.

Lo’ak watches you from across the fire as you dance in the flickering orange glow of the flames. Your small body moves in time with the beat of the song, hips swaying as you copy the movements of the Na’vi around you, and Lo’ak can’t help the way his heart pounds at the sight of you dancing to the traditional songs of his people.

His mouth goes dry as the song turns you to the side and raises your arms up high over your head, granting him the sight of the entire length of your body all stretched out and on display. You're dressed in traditional Omatikaya clothes, the band of the tewng wrapped low around your hips, the extra length of the string dragging almost hypnotically across your thigh with each movement. Kiri must have helped you with the top, the beadwork into carefully draped feathering looks similar to hers, and the feathers fall perfectly over your just barely concealed breasts.

Lo’ak’s eyes follow the tempting swell at the side of your chest, down the soft looking skin of your ribs and onto the seductive swing of your hips. And he wants. Wants so badly to kneel in front of you, grab your swaying hips in his big hands and drag you closer so he can feel the movement under his fingertips. But then your body turns to the other side and his eyes fall to the piece of fabric you have tucked under the band of your tewng. A very familiar piece of blue fabric - and a feeling of horror washes over him as he realizes you have his lost tewng nestled tightly against your hip.

His eyes snap back to your face and he chokes on air when he finds you staring back, your own eyes, even hidden behind the glass of your mask, are intense and piercing in the flickering glow of the fire as you stare him down, never breaking your dance. Lo’ak shuffles back, accidentally bumping into Neteyam in his haste to get away from your unrelenting gaze, and Neteyam hisses as his swoasey is jostled, spilling a good bit of its contents on the ground and his feet.

“What the fu–”

“Sorry! Shit, I’m–” Lo’ak stutters, eyes flickering between Neteyam’s irritated glare and your smirking figure. “Sorry, bro. I gotta go,”

He doesn’t give Neteyam a chance to answer before he’s turning and making a beeline for his family’s hut with his tail tucked between his legs.

He makes it to the hut in record time, throwing open the thick front flaps and crossing the main living area with only a few long strides. He enters his alcove, scrubbing his hands over his face with a loud groan. Fuck! What is he supposed to do? You have his tewng - you were looking right at him, you wanted him to know you had it. He should be terrified, should be on his knees begging you for forgiveness, to have mercy on him and keep quiet about his transgressions and promise that he will leave you alone forever.

But instead, his body feels hot, panic somehow ebbing away into desire. There has to be something wrong with his brain, this is not a normal reaction to the situation - but his body disagrees as he starts to harden in his tewng.

You looked so beautiful dancing in front of the fire, like a goddess sent to him by Eywa herself. The way you looked in Na’vi clothing, the small, barely there traditional clothing of his people hanging onto your body like the worst kind of temptation. The band of the tewng hanging low on your hips, the curve of your ass peeking out from the back flap of material. That’s wrong, his brain says. Tewngs shouldn’t have a cover in the back like that. Traditional tewngs only have the front cover, so you should remove yours - if only to be correct in your Na’vi wear and bare your perfect ass for him to see instead of just the tease of it.

He’s seen you in less, of course - but he’s never seen you bare so much skin purposefully before. His hands leave his face, balling into fists at his sides for a moment as he grinds his teeth together before he turns and snaps the privacy curtain shut to his alcove. His fingers work at the knots on his tewng, pulling it off and throwing it across the room as he lies down on his sleeping mat.

Lo’ak’s hand slides down his stomach, breathing already labored as he wraps his hand around his cock. His eyes slip shut as he starts to stroke, visions of you immediately manifesting behind his dark lids. Images of you, on your knees, crawling towards him as he strokes himself - desire darkening your eyes as you watch him with hooded lids as you crawl closer. He whines as he watches you get closer and closer, focusing on your gorgeous face as you bite your lip, how the woven armband adorned with pretty purple beads hugs your bicep, and how your thighs and ass moves seductively with each forward movement just perfect enough to put him in a trance.

The vision of you stops just in front of him, kneeling up and pulling his lost tewng from underneath your band. It must be so warm, having been pressed against your hip the entire celebration - warmed up with your body heat, pressed against your soft skin and covered in your scent.

“This yours?” You say, slowly dragging the blue material across the top of your thighs, and Lo’ak moans, stroking himself faster as he watches you tease your skin with his tewng.

You slide the material over your belly, letting it tickle your skin as you trail it up your ribs. “How many times have you cum in this very loincloth while thinking about me, hm?” You say, sliding the material higher until part of it disappears under the feathers of your top, nudging the bottom of your breast. “Lo’ak?”

He groans, feet planting on the ground as his hips start to kick up, fucking into his fist. His breath catches in his throat when you drop his tewng and lean over him, arms on either side of his head, maskless face just inches away from his - lips just a breath away from his own. “Lo’ak,”

“Hah-y/n,” He moans, and he wants you to kiss him, wants this to be real so badly so you can kiss him. Just a little more . . . c'mon, just a little more.

“Lo’ak!”

His eyes snap open at the call, the very real call that’s coming from the entrance of his alcove and panic claws inside his throat at the sight of you just standing there, eyebrows raised in surprise, one hand still holding open the privacy curtain.

It takes his brain a few seconds to catch up with reality, but when it does he hisses out a curse, scrambling into a seated position, hands desperately trying to cover himself despite the whole eyefull you’re also still recovering from. You recover faster than he does though, and you step into the room, letting the curtain fall closed again behind you.

“I brought you this,” You say, pulling the extra blue tewng from your hip and tossing it towards Lo’ak. He makes no attempt to catch it, hands still trying to cover his unaffected, throbbing erection, and the material flutters to the ground at his side. “You left it at the lab when you . . . you know.”

Your eyes rake over his naked form and your hands find a place on your hips. “You seemed like you were having a lot of fun. Who were you thinking about?”

The knowing tone of your voice makes the tips of Lo’ak’s ears burn as they press against his head.

“You thinking about me, Lo’ak?”

The sound he lets out doesn’t have a meaning - just a short, stifled sound of embarrassment as he tries to force out something. Anything. But the only thing he can manage is a way to quiet and stuttered version of “S-sorry,”

You smirk at his apology, pretty lips curling into a wicked grin as you hum noncommittally. He watches with wide eyes as you saunter around his room, peeking in his personal areas as if you had a right to be there, before you turn and lean back against the wall in front of him.

“Don’t be sorry,” You say, arms crossing over your chest. “Be even,”

Lo’ak’s brows scrunch up, his ears flickering slightly in confusion. “W-what?”

“Be. Even.” You repeat. “You got a private show who knows how many times. Now I want one, with my own front row seat. It’s only fair,”

Lo’ak’s head is spinning. You can’t possibly be saying what he thinks you're saying. You want him to . . . touch himself? With you watching?

“What’s wrong, Lo?” You ask, your voice mocking as you pout at him. “You get off on watching, but not being watched?”

“I just– I-I don’t,”

“Hey,” You interrupt, expression switching from teasing to sincere in a second. “Just relax, okay? Just keep doing what you were doing. Show off for me a little,”

Lo’ak’s breathing is shaky as he steels himself, slowly lowering himself to lie back on the mat. One of his hands moves to uncover himself, balling into a nervous fist against his sternum. His other hand wraps around his cock again, long fingers encircling the thick, hard length as his eyes stay glued to your watching form.

Your eyes watch hungrily as he gives himself an uncertain stroke, the pretty lavender tip of his cock disappearing under his fist before reappearing again as he holds himself at the base. Your back slides down the wall as you lower yourself to the floor, your legs crossed in front of you as you lean forward for a closer look.

“Keep going,”

Your demand comes out firm, soft voice caressing his eardrums as the demand goes straight to his cock. His eyes stay locked on your face as he strokes himself again and again, a needy whine threatening to burst from his throat as he watches you watch him. He wishes you could get rid of the mask so he can see your face more clearly, but even slightly obstructed with the glass of the mask, he can see the desire written all over it.

You desire him. You desire him? The knowledge takes the air from his lungs as he fists his cock faster. He pulls away for a moment so he can spit in his hand and he watches as your eyes follow the movement when he wraps his wet fingers around his cock again, smearing the wetness along the heated skin.

“Yeah, baby. Get it all wet for me,” Your hands make their way to your top, fingers playing with the feathers there. “You want a little more motivation?”

Lo’ak’s hand pauses on his cock as he watches in awe as you push some of the feathers of your top to the side, perfect round breasts suddenly on display for his eager eyes. It’s a beautiful sight - the look of your perky tits framed by colorful feathers, a few rogue feathers hanging between the valley of your breasts.

“Ah, ah,” You tisk. “I didn’t say stop.”

He gulps as he starts up his pace again, his fist twisting over the sensitive tip on each upstroke. His quiet moans and groans are like music to your ears, and you wish he would be louder so your human ears can pick up on them better. You want the sounds of his pleasure to fill up the room. You bet he would be so vocal if he would just let himself go.

“Don’t hide your noises,” You tell him. “They’re so pretty, Lo. Be louder for me. They make me so wet,”

His responding whimper is significantly louder and more desperate as he watches you spread your thighs. You flip the front flap of your tewng over your thigh to keep it out of the way and pull the privacy cover to the side. Lo’ak’s mouth waters at the sight. You weren’t lying - you are wet. He can see the way your folds glisten even from across the small room.

“Y/n,” He moans, and his cock throbs in his grip.

“You like what you see, yawne?”

The use of the Na’vi term of endearment makes his heart pound, and his stomach tightens as he feels the telltale signs of his orgasm approaching. Your fingers dip down into your wetness, sliding along your dripping slit before dipping inside and circling your clit. You’re so wet already that Lo’ak’s able to pick up on the squelching sounds your juices make, ears twitching as your fingers rub against the pulsing nub. Slowly, you run your fingers back down your slit, circling your entrance before pushing inside.

Lo’ak bites out a curse as the squelching sounds get louder, and he spits in his palm again to add it to the mess of precum on his cock just to make it extra wet so he can imagine it’s your pretty cunt he’s thrusting into and not his fist. His hips jerk, trying to fuck his hand faster, and the pressure in his belly is building and building, threatening to snap at any second as he watches you fuck yourself with your fingers, enraptured.

“You close, Lo’ak?” You ask, breathy.

“Mhm,” He moans. “So close. Going to cum,”

At his admission, you pull your fingers out, curling a wet finger at him in a come-hither motion. “Nuh-uh, not yet. Come here,”

He whines at your words, his body mourning the loss of stimulation as he pauses his hand on his cock. He doesn’t want to let go, doesn’t want to stop, but can’t find it in himself to disobey your order. What if you make him stop completely? What if this was just a huge game of payback and you don’t let him cum at all?

You raise your eyebrow at his hesitance, voice low and seductive as you say, “Don’t you wanna taste me first?”

He should be embarrassed by how quickly he rips his hand away and scrambles onto his hands and knees as he gapes at you, desperate. “Please! Y/n, please,”

“Come here,” You say again, and this time, Lo’ak doesn’t hesitate.

He crawls across the room and is in front of you in a second, and you stand up from the floor as he settles on his heels in front of you. In this position, the size difference is stark. Even sitting back on his heels, he still towers over you. His breathing is heavy as he stares down at you, amber eyes swallowed up by the bottomless pits of his pupils.

“You can touch me,” You whisper, and he feels something snap inside him.

He leans down, pressing hot kisses against the side of your neck. You hum at the feeling of his lips on your skin. His warm tongue slides against your skin, savoring the taste of you on his taste buds as he licks across your collarbone and, oh, Great Mother, you taste so much better than he’d ever imagined. He breaks contact just for a moment to skip over the places that your top is still covering, mouth latching onto the top of your breast as he bites down lightly on the supple skin, canines digging into the round flesh as you gasp, and then soothing the marks with a gentle kiss.

“Lo’ak,” You say, your small hand caressing his jaw and angling his face up towards yours. “That’s not where I meant.”

He groans, stealing a quick kiss at your nipple just to feel it before he hauls you up high against the wall. He has you spread out in front of him, one tip-toed foot planted on his thigh for balance while your other leg is thrown over his shoulder. His hands shake from where they’re gripping on to your thigh and calf, nervous excitement ripping through him as he breathes in the smell of your arousal. You look like a goddess above him, a creation so beautiful that sometimes he wonders if he’s actually crazy and he just made you up in his head. But you’re here, above him, spread out for him like the most mouthwatering feast - and he wants to devour you.

One of your hands cradles the side of his head, sweeping the stray braids away from in front of his eyes, while the other adjusts your tewng and pulls the privacy cover to the side again. Immediately, he digs in - tongue lapping at your soaked folds like a man starved. You taste so sweet, like the most delicious treat, and Lo’ak’s eyes roll back into his head as he greedily gulps down your juices. His tongue flicks against your clit before he wraps his lips around the swollen bud, sucking harshly and returning your high pitched moans with a groan of his own.

“Yes, yes,” You cry. “Feels so good, Lo! So good,”

Your hand moves from the side of his face to fist into the loose braids at the back of his head, beads clanking together as you twist them around your fingers, holding his head against your core as if he would ever dare pull away. His cock throbs, needy and forgotten as it hangs between his thighs. He can feel how precum drips from its tip, beading up on the head before it becomes too much and runs down the underside of his cock.

The hand on your calf wraps around his aching length instead, stroking quick and rough as he digs his face into your pussy. But all too soon you’re pulling his head away, grip firm on his braids as he’s reluctantly pulled away from your core, and he whines in dismay when you maneuver yourself back down to the floor.

“Relax,” You giggle, laughing at his forlorn expression. “I’ll give it back. Lie down,” You press your hand to his shoulder, guiding him to lay back on the floor as you kneel next to his head. “Keep being a good boy for me, okay?”

He nods frantically, eager to continue to please you. He’ll always be a good boy for you, the best boy. He’d do anything for you if you let him.

His breathing hitches when you toss your leg over him, thighs straddling his head, puffy pussy just a breath away from his face. His hands grip the tops of your thighs, pressing you down on him as his mouth impatiently latches back onto your core. Your own hands press against his flat stomach, balancing yourself on his body as you gaze out at the long expanse of toned muscled before you.

Lo’ak’s cock is hard and thick against his belly, precum oozing from the pretty lavender tip and into a puddle just below his belly button. You watch as it jumps occasionally, the line of precum connecting his cock to his stomach even as it lifts up slightly just to settle back down on his stomach.

You lean forward more, arm reaching out with fingers outstretched and Lo’ak whimpers loudly against your pussy when your fingers make contact with his neglected cock, the vibrations sending shivers through your body as you moan in response.

“You’re so big, Lo’ak,” You say, hips rocking on his face while your fingers trail lightly over the sticky, swollen head. It twitches against your fingers. “You’d stretch me out so good.”

He whines against your cunt, long fingers digging into the meat of your thighs as his feet plant themselves on the ground. His hips kick up, desperately trying to get more of your touch on his aching cock - but you stay teasing, just the brush of gentle fingertips as they trail up and down the heated length.

His tongue works against you faster, more and more desperate the more your tiny fingers tease his cock. He can feel the build up of his orgasm rapidly approaching again, and he twists his hips frantically as he wordlessly pleads against your cunt for you to touch him properly. He wants your tiny hand to wrap around his cock like he’s always dreamed about, wants to feel how your fingers can’t even wrap around him completely because you're so small.

But you don’t - instead your fingers make their way back up to the head, rubbing firm circles against the sensitive frenulum, and Lo’ak’s entire body tenses as his orgasm rips through him, rope after rope of release shooting onto his stomach as he cries against your folds.

You don’t give him anytime to recover, and he’s still shaking through the aftershocks when you hump faster against his face, using his mouth as your own personal toy as you chase after your own orgasm. Your back arches when it hits, thighs clamping down on either side of his head as you ride it out on his tongue, and he must have died at some point during this encounter - he must be dead, because the only way to describe how perfect this is, how amazing you taste when you cum - only this kind of euphoria can be found in whatever release of energy that Eywa promises at the end of life.

When your orgasm is over, you slowly lift off of Lo’ak’s face and settle down next to him on the floor. He’s still shivering and shaking as you both lay there. He’s exhausted, but his eyes stay open despite how much they want to close and sleep now. He doesn’t want to lose a second of this. What if he falls asleep and this was all just a dream?

But then you look over at him, beautiful and fucked out looking in your afterglow, and a wicked grin stretches across your face. “That was fun. You should come visit me at the lab again. But this time, come through the door this time, yeah?”

**Special thanks to @pandoraslxna for the prompt!

Taglist: @eywaite @loaksulluyswife @erenjaegerwifee @f-cklife @chaoticfaelle @nilsavatar @fandomhoe101 @anastasia1777-blog @localjasmine @tsewtx

#lunaskinktober2023 #lo'ak x female reader #lo'ak smut #lo'ak x human reader #lo'ak x reader #taliewrites

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littlerosette · 2 months

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everlark/thg fic recs!

i just wanted to share some love with the fics that i find myself continuously going back to and enjoying <3

on the threshold by ghtlovesthg: by far my one of favorite “i know this would have happened anyway” fics. katniss and peeta’s relationship is adorable, and i really enjoy this author’s portrayal of smitten!katniss. it’s exactly how i imagine her and it’s adorable. they just like each other so much.

the heartrender by juniebugg: helnik!everlark au. i have a weakness for enemies to lovers and this more than hits the spot. the ending is gorgeous. stunning piece of writing.

the unrecorded hours by hollycomb: this fic has been praised to death but i am deeply obsessed with it. katniss and peeta felt very appropriately prickly and messy with each other, which i think fit considering where they’re at mentally post-mj. the ending was also so quintessentially Them.

which of your lives is this? by writingforhugs: this fic has way too few kudos for what a masterpiece it is. it’s katniss traveling through italy with peeta, and it’s pure, unadulterated escapism. the detail is so rich that it actually feels like you’re on the journey with them, and the chemistry is impeccable and so sexy. i adore this story.

hero of the story by atetheresmind: first of all, i love everything from this author. second of all, this story is amazing. “no games” fics are probably my favorite everlark fic subgenre and this one is written to perfection. katniss and peeta have an affair on their spouses and have to deal with the consequences when their relationship is discovered. the characterization is amazing and i love how the author handled the fallout. gorgeous story.

blowout by annieoakley1: age gap everlark fic and probably my favorite one. this story is so sexy and i love love love peeta and katniss’s relationship in it. katniss is so predictably Herself that it’s fun to watch her navigate a relationship she knows she’s gonna get shit for being in.

our little fires by brimay: a new fic and stunningly gorgeous. katniss and peeta fall in love before the reaping and their entire experience in the games is changed because of this. i adored the recurring theme where their love was the real rebellious act, their “little fire,” which i think struck so true to the heart of the actual trilogy. this story is amazing.

the project by ronja: unfinished but stellar. katniss and peeta’s bond is so sweet and their chemistry is amazing. it also helps that katniss is in a relationship with gale for a majority of the story, which lets you see how much she truly likes peeta compared to him. it was adorable to see them in a fake marriage scenario and they both relish in every bit of it. this story is “ivy” by taylor swift personified.

the hanging tree series by sparebitofparchment: this a peeta’s pov retelling. right now it’s on catching fire, but the writing is so so stellar. it’s perfectly angsty and beautiful, and flowery enough compared to katniss’s pov that it feels like you’re seeing everything through peeta’s eyes. gorgeous series.

and many graces by encroix: this is kind of exactly what i’m talking about when i say messy!everlark post mj. peeta and katniss are so desperate for each other but also so flawed and uncommunicative in their expectations that they end up hurting each other repeatedly. it’s beautiful and i love it. i cried multiple times reading it.

my heart is yours, and yours is mine by songbirdheart: the most enchanting, folksy, almost fairytale adjacent series ever. it truly is written with so much magic that it feels like a collection of short stories that you’d find in an old folktale book. every story is wonderful but i also have a particular fondness for the gadge one shot. it’s adorable and i love the way all the characters are written.

thg fic/non-everlark

where soul meets body by ellizablue: annie x finnick love story from her games to the aftermath of his death. wretchedly beautiful story. the writing is amazing and i cried several times reading this. it’s one of my absolute favorite fan fictions of all time and i reread it very frequently.

i’m yours to keep and i’m yours to lose by fkevin073: a modern snowbaird au where lucy gray and coryo are toxic exes who can’t leave each other the fuck alone. their mutual obsession and dysfunction was so fun to read and the pure, twisted soulmatery between them honestly was like a drug to me. i Love unhinged romantic leads.

the end of the world by fernwithy: this whole series is amazing but i was especially in love with this first installment. it’s a retelling of haymitch’s games and it’s amazingly done. haymitch feels appropriately brilliant, and watching him navigate the arena was gripping. i was unexpectedly touched by the relationship he develops with maysilee during this story. beautiful, gut-wrenching story.

#the hunger games #fic rec #everlark #odesta #gadge #snowbaird #among others

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writeformesinpie · 2 years

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A-Z Yandere Prompts w/ Dialogue Starters

A is for... Appetite

“I want to know how you’ll taste between my teeth.”

“I can never get enough of you. I’ll drink you down to the last sip.”

“You look delicious. I won't stop until I’ve eaten every bite.”

B is for... Brand

“I’m going to engrave myself into your very being.”

“We won’t stop until you’re so covered in my scent, no one will dare touch you again.”

“With this tattoo I’ve claimed you.”

C is for... Consequences

“Don’t play with fire if you don’t want to burn.”

“Don’t complain now – you did this to yourself.”

“You reap what you sow.”

D is for... Delusion

“This hurts me more than it hurts you.”

“Why are you acting like you don’t know me?”

“Why are you running? I did this for you!”

E is for... Eradicate

“You don’t need a job, baby. Your job is being mine.”

“You’re better off without them anyway.”

“I removed the problem. You should be thanking me.”

F is for... Forbidden

“You knew what you were getting into when you got involved with me.”

“They will never let us be together unless we make them.”

“It’s only taboo to those who’ve never loved like us.”

G is for... Game

“Here kitty, kitty.”

“I don’t know how to lose.”

“One, two, Daddy is coming for you. Three, four, knocking down your door.”

H is for... Harmless

“I would never hurt you. You know that, right?”

“Why are you scared?”

“You’re the only reason worth living for.”

I is for... Isolation

“Why would you want to leave? I’m keeping you here for your own good!”

“There’s nothing left for you but me. Everyone else is gone.”

“No one will ever find you here.”

J is for... Jealousy

“If his filthy hands touch you again I’ll kill him.”

“Shouldn’t you be spending more time with me?”

“I can’t control how I react when your eyes wander.”

K is for... Kidnap

“You say kidnap, I say date. Who’s really to know?”

“It’s not kidnapping when your soul yearns to be here.”

“There’s no use trying to run. This is your home now.”

L is for... Lies

“The truth would have just hurt you.”

“I’m not lying – I bent the truth a little to protect you.”

“Don’t you believe me?”

M is for... Manipulation

“I’ve done everything for you and this is how you repay me?”

“If you leave me now I’ll die. I can’t survive without you.”

“I told you they couldn’t be trusted.”

N is for... Neglect

“Stop ignoring me!”

“Look at you, you’re skin and bones.”

“If you won’t take care of yourself I will be forced to do it for you.”

O is for... Obsession

“It’s our anniversary! How could you forget? There isn’t a single thing I don’t remember about you.”

“So it's a little crush when you fawn over him but it's an obsession when I pay attention to you?”

“I can’t eat, I can’t sleep. You’re all I can think about.”

P is for... Persistence

“To my dying breath, I’ll never let you go.”

“I’ll follow you to the ends of the earth. No matter where you run, I’ll catch you.”

“Did you really think I wouldn’t find you?”

Q is for Quid Pro Quo

“If you do this for me I’ll think about helping you.”

“Well, I guess it pays to have friends in high places.”

“You owe me.”

R is for... Restraints

“I’ll let you go when you understand this is where you belong.”

“Your poor wrists… Maybe next time you’ll do what I say the first time I ask.”

“The cuffs will come off when you start acting like someone who doesn’t need them.”

S is for... Spoil

“I’d do anything for you, babe. Anything.”

“Is this okay? Did I do well?”

“Nothing is ever enough for you, is it?”

T is for... Training

“We can do this the hard way or the easy way. It’s up to you.”

“Haven’t we already moved past this? Do I have to train you again?”

“Patience is a virtue. We’ll keep going until you learn.”

U is for... Unending

“No matter how long you make me wait, our love will never die.”

“The only way out of this house is death.”

“There is no end. We are eternal.”

V is for... Voyeur

“Don’t act as if you don’t know me. I've been watching you watch me.”

“I like you best when you’re sleeping.”

“If I don’t keep an eye on you, who knows what will happen?”

W is for... Worship

“You’re my whole world, my Goddess. You're more than divine, you’re celestial.”

“Let me show you what adoration truly looks like.”

“No matter what you do to me, I’ll worship the very ground you walk on. That's what it means to love someone.”

X is for... XOXO

“I want to hold you but I can’t. Once I do, I know I’ll never stop.”

“I need to kiss every inch of your skin.”

“When we part, every caress becomes more agonizing than the last.”

Y is for... Yearn

“I’m aching for your touch.”

“You’re my oasis. Please don’t leave me thirsting.”

“You don’t know true pain. I’ll show you what it really means to crave something.”

Z is for... Zealot

“You are my religion.”

“Words like radical and extremist are just a pseudonym for enthusiastic.”

“No matter the world, we are fated. Through time and space we will always find each other.”

~Feel free to reblog and use~

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joedirtymadre · 2 months

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Sandwiches - Part 2

LAW X READER! SMUT!! (Please send requests! PLEASE! 🙏)

Well you decided to play with fire and now you’re the one getting burned. At first it was fun and even a little cute to see Law get riled up whenever you flirt with him. However, you were always able to escape before he could catch you and make you reap the consequences. But something makes you feel like your lucky streak is about to come to an end.

You walked down the main streets of Wano, and found Sanji or Sangorou. “Hi (Y/N)-swan~” he cooed as he poured another bowl of soba. “Hi Sangorou,” you waved as you approached his cart. “Care for some soba?” He asked. “Not right now, I’m trying to find O-Robi. She said she would meet me here, but don't see her anywhere,” you sighed. “She’s probably a bit late, being a geisha is hard work,” Sanji explained. “You’re right, anyways I have to rush back to Luffytaro and everyone else. Tell O-Robi that I’ll stop by tomorrow!” You yelled as you ran down the street.

You decided to go down an alley for a shortcut, until you were suddenly stopped by a group of misfits. “Hi princess,” one of them said. “Just come with us and everything will be nice and easy,” another said. “She’d make a beautiful geisha,” one added. I rolled my eyes. “She’s with me, and if you wanna live I’d leave her alone,” a dark voice said behind me. Oh no… your eyes widened and slowly turned around. Oh god, he finally found me!

“Huh?! Get out of here punk! We just want her!” the leader of the group said before charging towards Law and I. I quickly hopped out of the way, to let Law deal with them. You watched as Law quickly sliced them into parts. Alright, this is my cue to… you were stopped by a firm hand on your shoulder. “Where do you think you’re going? Not even going to thank your savior?” Law smirked. “My savior? I could’ve knocked those guys out too,” you scoffed. “Sure you could,” he chuckled.

You quickly turned around to give him a piece of your mind, but was suddenly thrown against the wall of one of the buildings. “H-Hu-“ you were cut off as you felt a pair of rough lips overcome yours. You immediately felt your legs giving out, but before they could you felt an arm wrap around your body keeping you up.

Law finally pulled away, allowing you a chance to catch your breath. “What’s wrong (Y/N)-ya? Seems like you’re about to faint, let’s go somewhere more quiet,” he smirked as he teleported us to a secluded part of the forest.

You pushed out of his grip, causing you to fall back. You sat as you watched the raven haired captain loom over you, with a mischievous smile. “H-Hi Law…” you stuttered as you scooted back. “Hello, (Y/N)-ya,” he smirked as he followed me. “Leaving so soon?” He added. “W-Well, Luffy and the others are waiting for me so… I should probably get going,” you explained as you quickly stood up. As you tried to escape you felt a hand grasp your arm, pulling you back and being engulfed into a strong embrace. “Don’t worry, I told them I would meet with you because I had a small special mission for you,” he said. “Y-You do?” You asked nervously. “Mhmm… just call it payback for all those little teasings you like doing,” he whispered into your ear, causing your whole body to fill with goosebumps.

You found yourself in an abandoned shed that Law had discovered. You also found yourself naked, blindfolded and your arms tied by your ankles. Causing you to lay on your back with your privates exposed. You gasped as you felt a hand glide over your exposed skin. “L-Law!” you cried out. “What’s wrong (Y/N)-ya?” His breath hitting your skin. “No m-more teasing p-please,” you begged as you’ve gotten tired of him running his fingers or hand across your skin.

“Alright, since you asked so nicely,” he chuckled as you gasped at the sudden insertion of his fingers. “Ahhh!” You let out. Your body burned as he slowly thrusted his fingers into your pussy. “Such a wet pussy, my fingers slipped in so easily,” he said as he increased the pace. “F-Faster! Faster!” You cried. “Such a demanding tone, I don’t know if I like that,” he said as he slowed down his pace. “No! No I’m sorry, pl- please go faster?” You begged as you bucked your hips. “That’s better,” he said before increasing the speed again. “Mmm~ Law~!” You moaned. “You’re so cute (Y/N)-ya,” Law smirked. You gasped as you felt something wet swirl around your right nipple. “L-!” You threw your head back as you felt bites on your breasts.

Your head was becoming fuzzy and dizzier, making it difficult to keep up with Law’s words. “Man, your body is so fucking sexy… I’d love to show you how sexy you are every single day,” he said against my skin. “H-Hah! Mmmf!” You responded. “Can’t speak huh?” He chuckled. “Well then let’s get to the final act,” he said. You whimpered at the loss of his fingers. “La-W!” You cried out as I felt something larger replace his fingers. “Haa! Ah! Law~” you moaned as his cock stretched my walls, while hitting deep inside me.

“Fuck…” he groaned.

“Law… p-please untie me…” you begged. “Well… since you’ve been a good girl,” he groaned, and slowly untied your restraints. You quickly removed the blindfold, allowing you to see the man in front of you. “Wanted to sit in the front seat, huh?” He smirked. You blushed, and threw your arms around his neck. “Don’t stop,” you said. “Still so demanding, but I’ll allow it… this time,” he said as he continued thrusting hard and deep inside you. You trembled under him, feeling your body get warmer and warmer with each thrust. “HaaA!” You cried out as you felt him bite your shoulder. Your hands traveled to his hair and grasped it. “Fuck, fuck…” he whispered into your ear.

“L-Law~ kiss me~” you moaned. Law quickly moved his lips to yours, and with one rough thrust you gasped into the kiss. Allowing him to slip his tongue inside. You both fought each other, but Law was ultimately the winner as you were too weak from all the pleasure. His tongue explored your cavern as he continued to thrust his cock.

He slowly pulled away, “I almost forgot something,” he smirked. “Hmm?” You hummed. Then an electric shock coarsed through your body and you felt his finger glide over your clit. “L-Law?” You questioned. “I can’t be the only one who finishes,” he smirked as he rubbed your clit.

You threw your head back, “Too much! Ah!” You cried out. “God, your moans are so sexy,” he said before increasing his pace. “Law! S-Slow down! Law!” You choked out. “I’m-!” But it was too late, you felt a sudden electric shock run through your body. You felt your nails dig into Law’s back as you rode along the waves of ecstasy.

“Cumming without my permission, huh?” Law asked as he began thrusting faster. “Wait! I’m- I’m sensitive!” You let out. “Mmm, good,” he whispered in your ear. You continued to dig your nails into your back, you couldn’t control your moans as he pounded away. “Fuck…” he groaned, and did one final thrust. You felt your walls get coated as he let out a trembled sigh. “Fuck… I wanted to go a bit longer,” he said as he kissed your forehead.

“From now on you’re mine now, and don’t you forget it,” he said to you. Not realizing that you passed out from the overexertion and pleasure.

Law’s POV

“I guess I went too hard,” I said, as I cleaned her up. I picked her up, and teleported us to the submarine. “Captain!” Bepo called out as we landed. “Captain is that (Y/N) from the Straw Hats? Is she injured?” He asked as he inspected her. “No, just asleep, if you’ll excuse us we’ll be in my room,” I said as I passed him. “Your room? But we have extra bunks,” he said as he followed us. “No, I won’t have my wife sleep on a small bunk bed,” I smirked as I continued to carry her to my room. “W-Wife? When’d you get married?! When did you have the time? Aren’t we at war?!” Bepo asked, in shock. I rolled my eyes and shut the door to my door and softly placed her on my bed.

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ellieslaces · 2 months

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CAN’T CATCH ME NOW. (prologue)

presenting: Umbrella’s Hunger Games

featuring: leon kennedy x fem!reader

synopsis: the Hunger Games, an annual show of brutal control the Capitol has over each of the twelve Districts. the Games’ number one sponsor: Umbrella Corporation, the creator of the Games’ most horrific torture strategies and nightmare inducing deaths. these games have always been cautionary, always a far away but constant threat — until you find yourself Reaped and thrown into an area full of your worst fears with 23 other Tributes, all out for blood.

content warnings (future): harsh language; heavy violence; gore; torture; heavy themes of murder; infanticide; social injustice; class discrimination; brief mention of suicidal thoughts; angst; character death; eventual smut; enemies to lovers

notes: this is inspired by the Hunger Games (no 1) and takes place in the universe; if topics such as violence murder infanticide etc trigger you, skip this series; the reader is said to be a Career Tribute

Chloe talks: posting a my prologue for my new Leon Hunger Games series before the next strike tomorrow! please enjoy, I’m convinced this will be my magnum opus :)

word count: 768 (it’s a prologue, so it’s short)

now playing: can’t catch me now ; olivia rodrigo

how you can help Palestine! 🇵🇸

Images of dark alleys, of scorching hot deserts, of raging icy tundras, of sickly beautiful yet dangerous forests haunted each child’s dreams. Not for any reason in particular other than the fact that the images were fed to them since birth. Spoon fed into their heads — the showings of each years annual Hunger Games.

Decades upon decades ago, the ocean swallowed nearly half the continent in a devastating and unprecedented tsunami. States and even smaller countries were lost to the depths of the sea, leaving the remaining forty percent of the country overflowed with a surplus of population.

Women, men, and children with nowhere to go, now crowded the north part of what once was the United States. Now twenty of the fifty states remained, thousands upon thousands of casualties, leaving too many for the forty percent of the country to support.

The government handled it with the worst of ideas, their support was lost, their lack of understanding and empathy led to an inevitable uprising. People stormed the gates of the White House, threatened to kill — and did kill — senators, and representatives, and judges, and even their families.

This uprising nearly destroyed the country as a whole. Thousands were slaughtered, bloodlines were destroyed, families killed by the rebels. Until a group of unknown power that had been hiding behind the scenes for decades stepped forward, taking control of the people. This led to a bloodbath of violence, political control, and the people finally were forced to accept their defeat.

From then, the country was divided into thirteen Districts, each with its own purpose of serving the new country’s Capitol. This new country — Panem — was run with a ruthless government, a controlling President with no mercy and a clever mind. He was cruel, and heartless, and as dangerous as he was calm.

No one dared to object him, no one dared to take his power for fear of the consequences. So, for decades, President Ozwell E. Spencer ran the country. His company — one he started long before he was elected as President — Umbrella was the sole sponsor and creator of the annual Hunger Games.

Where each spring, twenty four children between the ages of twelve and nineteen were picked at random by pairs to represent their District in a fight to the death.

One boy, one girl from each District, chosen by random to be plucked, and bathed, and painted, and paraded, and eventually murdered for the sake of entertainment. Once, these Games were a reminder of what revolution could do, how it could crumble a nation. But that notion was long gone, all that now remained was the entertainment value of their deaths. Deaths none of them deserved. Deaths you never imagined you’d actually witness, much less cause yourself.

The intricacies of these Games were lost upon you, all you knew was to survive. Despite being a so called ‘Career’ and had as close to luxury as you could for someone from one of the Districts, you hardly had the stomach to commit things such as murder. Much less upon other children, people your age.

District One, luxury items, riches, and favor of the Capitol itself. Careers, the title of the Tributes that were put into the Games each year. These Tributes were raised with advantage, raised with early training available to them. Available to you.

For the majority of your life, since you were able to understand what the Games meant, you’d been trained by Victors, the Redfield siblings. Chris and his sister, Claire, were once Tributes themselves, in consecutive years.

Chris Redfield won at nineteen with pure brutality, physical strength and power, partaking in the bloodbath and taking out a good majority of the other Tributes in the beginning. Chris’s Games lasted a mere week.

While Claire Redfield managed to outsmart each and every other Tribute in her arena, successfully becoming the Victor by simply waiting for them all to die by natural causes, or killing themselves with their own stupidity. Her Games lasted three, the ending of said Games pushed quickly to be brought to a conclusion. Leading the girl to become Victor at a mere thirteen.

So, despite the fact that you weren’t technically supposed to be trained by Mentors unless Reaped, the Redfield siblings trained you behind the curtain. They prepared you for the possibility of you being Reaped, of being subjected to the horrors they’d seen. To the murder they had to commit to stay alive. They wanted you to win, to have a chance of survival.

But, maybe they should have just let you die. Maybe they shouldn’t have taken you under their wing when they found you shivering in the rain after a school bully had taken your pack and shoes and jacket.

Maybe they should have just let you be killed. Then you wouldn’t have to live with the memory of him.

#can’t catch me now.#re2 leon #Leon Kennedy #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy x fem reader #Leon Kennedy x reader #leon kennedy fanfic #Leon Kennedy fanfiction #hunger games #the hunger games #the hunger games au #resident evil 2 remake #resident evil au

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ijustreallylovethem · 5 months

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yourusername

liked by jackhughes and others

yourusername the hot chocolate may have put us to sleep

view all comments

jackhughes but it was the best hot chocolate and the best nap of my life

yourusername well i made it and i slept next to you so im not surprised

lukehughes “thank you luke for the photo. it’s so cute i’m gonna post it.” “oh you’re welcome!”

yourusername thanks for the photo creep 🙄

lukehughes fall asleep on my couch, reap the consequences

yourbff i thought we agreed to not watch if we weren’t together???

yourusername oh.. uh.. close your eyes!

jackhughes i told you she’d find out. i didn’t think you’d make it this obvious though

trevorzegras you know… i like frozen

jackhughes you’re not getting in on our movie nights

trevorzegras but i had you first!

yourusername and i have him now. suck it zegras 😝

#jack hughes #jack hughes x reader #social media edit #raegan’s advent calendar

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preciousbarnes · 1 year

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By Your Side

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: You get badly injured on a mission, and Bucky doesn't handle it well.

Word Count: 1.7k

Tags: Established Bucky x Reader, Agent!Reader, Explosions, Bodily Injury, Near Death Experience, Hospital Setting

It had been as routine as any mission could be. You, Sam, and Bucky were tasked to break into an old WWII bunker which held files containing information about a weapon that was at risk for resurfacing. The government wanted the files back in their hands before they could fall into someone else’s.

You all stood in the musky smelling dark bunker, everything covered in a thick layer of dust, not seeming to have been touched in decades. You were quickly gathering the old paper files into your backpack, when there was a sudden, persistent beeping to your right.

“Forget to turn off your alarm, agent?” Sam joked, making you and Bucky laugh.

You shook your head, before your eyes widened in realization. You all had let your guard down upon entering the bunker. With all the dust, you never imagined it could have all been staged to look untouched. You all made the mistake of being too comfortable. Too self-assured. And you were about to reap the consequences.

“Bomb!” You yelled, right as the beeping became constant.

Then, a bright flash and deafening boom, as your body was thrown back from the blast. You felt a sharp, searing sensation in your abdomen, overwhelming the pain you felt in the base of your skull. You laid there on the cold concrete floor, disoriented, your vision blurred as you tried desperately to regain your bearings. Looking up you see a dark figure running to your side, a muffled sound of your name being called. Once the figure got closer, you could make out that it was Bucky.

His face, once it was in your vantagepoint, worried you. The usually stoic man on missions with the thousand-yard stare was obviously rattled, his eyes wide, hands ghosting over your form, afraid to touch you, like he was in fear he may hurt you more. Your eyes left his face to follow where he was looking, down at your abdomen, where the burning and constant ache was.

There it was. A metal pipe had pierced you during the explosion, now lodged in your stomach. There was blood pooling around the wound and on the floor under you, unsettlingly warm against the cool concrete. You swallowed dryly, before looking back up to Bucky, who looked utterly lost. That’s when Sam finally came into view. He had some scrapes and already forming bruises, but it was clear that you had taken the worst of the blast, being so close to the bomb.

“We need a medic in here, stat. Does anyone copy?” You heard Sam call through the coms, hearing a quick but dull reply you couldn’t make out respond soon after his order.

“They’re coming as fast as they can. How are you feeling?” Sam asks, kneeling on the other side of you, glancing up to Bucky to gage his condition before returning his focus to you.

“I-I’m cold, and s-so sleepy, Sam” You say hoarsely.

This seems to awaken Bucky, he begins sternly shaking his head, hand coming to firmly grasp yours. He recognized the signs. Cold. Sleepy. Signs of massive blood loss. Possible internal bleeding. Early signs of a fate he didn’t want for you.

“Doll, no, y’gotta stay awake. Stay awake for me, okay?” He says quickly, his metal hand coming up to push the hair out of your face and gently tuck it behind your ear. As he pulls his hand back, he notices his fingertips are coated in blood. Your blood. You had an injury to the back of your skull. His eyes widen at the sight of more of your blood, before he schools his expression back as much as he can, trying to look calm for your benefit, when he feels anything but calm.

“I- I don’t think I can, Buck. I’m so tired,” You tell him softly, before a cough works it's way up your throat, the force of it jarring your body and making you wince in pain.

Tears sprang to Bucky’s eyes as he shook his head once again. He knew what it meant if you went to sleep. He’d seen it play out way too many times on battlefields. You wouldn’t wake back up.

“Please, sweetheart, stay with me.” He pleaded with you, grasping your hand tighter, pulling it up to his lips to kiss gently.

“James,” you began, blinking a few times in effort to stay awake long enough to tell him what you felt compelled to tell him. You weren’t stupid. You knew you were in bad shape, with the likelihood of your survival getting slimmer by each passing moment the medics were taking to get to you.

“I-I love you, James. It’s okay. If I have to go, I’d want it to be like this. D-doing the work I believe in, and getting to be with you. You’ll be okay, Jamie.” You told him, voice shaky.

Tears begin to fall down Bucky’s face as he cries without abandon, shaking his head once again, hair flopping around with the viciousness of the shakes.

“No. You can’t leave me. Not like this. You can't tell me you love me like this. Save it for when you’re better. Not like this.” He begs between sobs.

Sam rises to his feet, calling on the coms that they needed help now, that things were looking grim. Your eyes begin to drift shut on their own accord, unable to keep them open any longer. You begin to fall into what feels like a deep sleep, Bucky’s cries being the last thing you heard, each one breaking your heart.

The first thing you heard was a soft and steady beep, accompanied by the sterile smell that medical facilities always had. You felt the weight of a hand in yours, recognizing the callouses belonging to your boyfriend. You slowly blink your eyes open, taking in the soft lighting of the room in the medical bay of the avenger’s compound. Usually it was you siting in Bucky’s place after Bucky did something reckless on a mission. This was the first time things were the other way around. You gently turn your head, wincing at the stiffness in your neck, making you wonder how long you had been out. There he was.

Bucky looked disheveled. His shoulder length hair was tied back in a messy buns, strains sticking out haphazardly all over the place. He was in sweatpants and a wrinkled t-shirt. His head was resting on the side of your bed, head turned to the side, giving you a view of his dark circles and scruff that had grown out longer than he normally allowed it. He looked how your body felt; a wreck.

You gently brought the hand that wasn’t incased in Bucky’s over to his head, gently and soothingly running your fingertips over his face. At the touch, he slowly opened his eyes, his widening upon seeing that you were awake.

“Baby, my god it's so good seeing those eyes again,” He said, voice gruff from lack of use. He had barely spoken since you had fell asleep back at the sight of the blast. He looked so relieved, like he could finally breathe again. If you looked closer, there were some tears gathered in his eyes.

“Hi Jamie,” you said softly, voice also hoarse from lack of use.

Hearing your voice and the nickname, he smiled softly, grabbing a cup of water from the stand by your hospital bed and holding it so you could get a drink. You took a few gulps, thanking him afterwards.

“How are you feeling, doll? Any pain?” He asked you, hand caressing your cheek as you leaned into his touch.

You took a moment to survey your body. You could feel the presence of a bandage wrap around your midsection, no doubt covering the wound and incision from the emergency surgery you were sure you had to have. You also noticed the presence of other bandaged dispersed along your limbs, due to smaller cuts and scrapes from the blast. While you were sure you were quite a sight, you didn’t feel any pain.

“No pain, but what’s the damage?” You ask.

“Two cracked ribs, a large gash to the back of your head that went down to your skull, so you’ve got 7 staples back there. The pipe that went through you luckily missed your major organs. They had to do some repairs to your intestines, and they had to remove your appendix that was damaged from the pipe. You’ve got a nasty concussion and some cuts and bruises. You’ve been unconscious for 4 days,” He lists off your injuries from memory.

A silence falls between the both of you. You look down at your hands held in Bucky’s, his thumb gently brushing back and forth on the tops of your hands.

“God, baby. You scared the life out of me,” He says, voice breaking at the end.

“I’m so sorry, Bucky. I should’ve been more careful,” You tell him, hating the pain you’ve caused him.

His head jerks up at your apology before he scoffs softly and shakes his head.

“No, doll. I should have been more careful. It's my job to watch your six. I’m so, so, sorry I failed,” He says with a sniffle, trying to hold back tears.

“You didn’t fail. It was made to look untouched, undisturbed for decades. We had no reason to suspect anything. We will be more careful next time, all of us. This was no ones fault,” You tell him sternly, willing him to understand that he is not responsible.

“I thought I was going to lose you, baby. I thought I was losing you without ever telling you I love you,” He whispers.

You smile softly, reaching up to tuck an unrulily strand of hair back behind his ear.

“You can tell me now,” you offer.

“I love you doll. I always have.” He tells you, a reverent tone taking over his voice, overcome with emotions he thought he’d never feel again.

You both lean in and softly kiss. You know the road to full recovery is going to be long, but you would do anything with your Bucky by your side.

#bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fic #preciousbarnes fics #marvel fanfiction #the falcon and the winter soldier fanfiction

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bcyhoods · 11 months

Note

hi miss cece babe! love the new blog, very cutie! i do come to you with a request if you like <3 shy!reader getting steve harrington flowers on a bad day of his <3 been obsessed with shy!reader, just too soft <3

u are so cute and u sent this a while ago SORRAY. this is just a short little thing to help get out of a writing rut!

talks about migraines (brief allusion to vomiting but nothing more than a sentence)

Steve could be extremely prideful at times.

He’d jump into action headfirst even if it meant a swift blow to his temple or a demobat bite to the abdomen. More often than not, he’d reap the consequences days later in the form of a dull headache or a singing pain in his bones, in addition to the scars and bruises painted on his freckled skin. Whenever you’d ask about it though, he’d give you a charming smile with a quick, “I’m fine. You should see the other guy.”

It was usually enough to quell anybody’s concerns, safe for your own ever-worrying mind, but even then, it would soothe you just enough. He never did it out of spite or malice, he just didn’t want to worry you. Plus, he wasn’t weak. He could handle it.

Today just wasn’t his best effort, he supposes.

The pair of you were supposed to go out today, but this morning he woke up with a particularly nasty migraine that wasn’t letting up any time soon. And no witty remark was able to save him from your doting presence (which he was quite grateful for).

You’re sat beside him on his bed, pushing away the strands of hair that stick to his forehead.

“‘M sorry,” he says meekly. His complexion is pale, face screwed up in discomfort, and a sheen layer of sweat coats his skin. Any food that he was able to get down would just fight it’s way back up.

The apology makes you frown. Your hand hovers over his stomach, a featherlight touch out of fear that it’d make matters worse. “Don’t be, it’s not your fault,” you reply softly.

He reaches for your hand with his own, gently bringing it down to fully rest on the swell of his stomach and sighs in relief. The gesture gives you goosebumps. You remain this way for awhile, your other hand combing through his hair, until he’s able to drift off.

The first time he wakes up, you’re laying a warm, damp rag on his forehead and placing a delicate kiss to his cheek. You’re telling him something, but he’s not awake enough to understand. Though his headache seems to have dulled.

When he awakes again, the throbbing sensation in his head is thankfully nothing but a memory. Faint hums and the whistling of a kettle motivate him to get out of bed when he sees new items sitting on his bedside table.

You’d gone to the store to get some aspirin, which now sits on the wood beside a cup of water. But it’s not that he’s interested in, not really. Beside the medicine, with a blue ribbon around its neck, sat a vase filled with daisies. A flimsy piece of paper rested against the glass that read For Stevie :) in your handwriting.

With a gooey smile on his face, he pads into the kitchen to find you. Your back faces him as you pour liquid from the kettle into a small mug. He calls out your name, and the second you turn around, he feels his insides turn to mush at the way your face brightens.

“Oh, you’re awake!” You recoil at the momentary loudness in your voice. “Are you feeling okay?”

Steve nods and pulls you into his arms. His thumbs dip under the hem of your shirt to caress the skin of your waist. “Better, now. Thank you for taking care of me.”

You hum in response as he presses a kiss to your temple.

“And thank you for the flowers.”

Suddenly, you feel heat rush to every swell and curve of your face. You didn’t expect him to explicitly mention a few flowers. And now you’re embarrassed.

“They’re feverfew. They’re supposed to help with migraines,” you reply into the cloth of his t-shirt in an effort to hide your nervous, lovesick grin. But the silence that follows makes you queasy.

That is, until he moves to cradle your face in his hands to deliver a firm kiss to your lips. The kind that makes you feel lightheaded, the kind that makes you grasp tightly onto his biceps to prevent you from floating away. You sigh once his soft lips move away from yours and you feel his breath fan your skin as he breathes out a laugh.

“Oh no, you’re running hot. Do you have a fever?” He teases.

#i got more detailed than i wanted to AGAIN dammit #but i want to care for him.#i also didn’t know how to end it so this is what this monstrosity is #ᝰ cece’s scribbles #✮ gf soph #✿ convos with cece #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington x gender neutral reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things fluff #steve harrington thots!

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lingerina · 7 months

Text

⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ KINKTOBER ⠀//⠀⠀day two

➤ PROMPT praise ➤ 951 words ➤ catwoman!yeji x fem!reader ➤ the many times you narrowly avoided robberies, and the one time you’re caught in the crossfire. ➤ A/N so while i was writing this, i had the actual catwoman in the batman universe in my brain, and i know nothing about that universe. research says catwoman is a jewel thief/antiheroine? so that’s how this prompt ended up like this. however, if you meant like… a cat & woman hybrid? i’m so sorry 💀

Working the closing shift for a jeweler is a risky job, but you have somehow managed to narrowly avoid the robberies that have taken place over the last six months. You either needed to tend to your family business or fell ill, leaving your coworkers to suffer the misfortune of being targeted by money-hungry thieves.

But your luck runs out.

And it runs out terribly.

At the very least, you’re not getting bombarded by a group of robbers. At the very worst, you’re caught in the middle of one robber’s scheme.

‘Catwoman’ is what they dub her. Synonymous for the cat mask, sharp claws, and smooth black bodysuit she dons, Catwoman is infamous for her string of high-profile robberies as well as her rescues of animals and children in dangerous situations. It’s hard what to make of a woman who steals from the elite, but has a heart for the vulnerable.

In this case, you are the vulnerable one, and she spares you no mercy.

Remnants of your white blouse drape over you, barely covering your tits as one swipe of her claws had shredded the garment open. Your pencil skirt is slightly torn up the side from how harshly she pried your legs open, and the infamous crook with gorgeous eyes is settled between them.

You were so close to clocking out, and now you’re in this predicament. You had contemplated screaming for security because her smooth entrance into the building didn’t trigger any alarms, but your naked pussy—slick with arousal—is betraying you. You almost don’t want to escape because this woman’s touch is magnetic.

.. Also because her sharp cat claws are gliding over your soft skin and one wrong move can reap dire consequences.

“You barely put up a fight,” she informs.

You scoff. “Because you have weapons.”

She raises a sharp brow. “Is that so?”

Your chest gets heavier as you watch her remove one of her cat claw gloves with her teeth. She spits it out to the side where it falls to the floor with a muffled clack. Removing half of her weaponry should put you at ease, but it does the exact opposite because you still don’t know her intentions. She can still hurt you with her bare hands.

You go rigid from her touch. Your hands are bound behind you with duct tape and your ankles are bound to each leg of the chair with even more duct tape, so you can’t retaliate anyway.

Not that you want to. It’s been too long since you’ve last been pleasured by someone, so Catwoman’s fingertips drawing over your slit might just be what you need. It’s insane to allow a criminal to be so intimate with you, but she knows exactly how to touch you.

“Catwoman-“

“Yeji,” she interrupts.

You tip your head back and heave a sigh as a finger slides into you. She withdraws it, then returns with two fingers, opening you up with how deep she pushes into you.

“Moan for Yeji.”

She goes slow and steady, but she delves deep. Her knuckles come in contact with your slick folds, her thrusts calculated for ample pleasure while testing the waters. You’re used to being drilled—practically jackhammered—hard and fast (which still gets you off eventually), so the sluggish pace is somehow still dizzying.

Perhaps it’s the adrenaline rush of being held hostage by an infamous thief. Perhaps it’s because you’re half naked and dripping all over the public enemy’s fingers. Whatever it is, it has your head spinning.

“Yeji,” you pant, your fists closing tightly as your limbs grow taut. “Yeji, please.”

One moment, you’re cornered by a masked woman with sharp claws threatening you. Suddenly, you find yourself stripped of bodily freedom and begging for said woman to fuck you harder. With the little mobility you have, you attempt to buck against her hand, rutting against her fingers with little shame and even less dignity.

She merely laughs at how pathetic you are. “You’re doing so well for me, kitten.”

That familiar feeling in the pit of your stomach arises. You twitch and squirm, but the duct tape digs more into your skin the more you move. You instinctively ball your hands together, as if you can actually break free if you jerk them hard enough.

“Oh fuck, fuck, fuck.”

You throw your head back, your moans echoing through the spacious room as you come apart by the woman’s skillful fingers. She licks her lips as she watches the pleasure overcome you, the tremors that overtake your half-naked body. You don’t even think about the possibility of security bursting through and finding you in a compromising position. You can barely think at all as you spatter all over her fingers, the chair, and the floor.

“That’s my good girl,” she purrs, her wrist keeping up with the pace for you to ride out your high. “You did so well for me.”

Did you do well? Did you really do well?

Because if you did, you wouldn’t be sitting here with the most valuable jewels thrown in a bag for a thief to escape with. You wouldn’t have been jumped and thrown around the way you were, and you definitely would still have the freedom to move around and give her a piece of your mind.

But oh no, you did terribly.

Because if you actually did well, you wouldn’t be watching Yeji rise back up to her feet, turn her back to you, and rush out of the building with her loot.

You’re left bound to the chair, wondering how you’re supposed to explain to your manager why your assets are out in the open and a third of the jewels are missing.

#girl group smut #itzy smut #yeji smut #girl group imagines #girl group scenarios #itzy imagines #itzy scenarios #kinktober #kinktober 2023

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