#defiant suggestion | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

whumpflash · 1 year

Text

cw: slavery, violence, adult language, emeto mention

previous ///// masterlist ///// next

×××

Judd did fall asleep before long.

Getting up in that state—head spinning, body wracked with nausea, and hands bound to boot—was next to impossible. So he stayed down. Let the blackness roll over him in the hopes that he'd wake with a clearer head.

But it wasn't dawn that brought him back to awareness, or even the chill that came with night. It was the feeling of a boot nudging his side. It was voices.

"Think he's alive. Guess this raid wasn't worthless after all."

"Fuck's he doing out here anyway?"

"Beats me. Pissed off the wrong guy by the looks of it."

Judd forced his eyes open. Two orange circles hovered over him, dully glowing against a black sky. Night vision goggles.

"Help me grab him and we'll get out of here," said the voice directly over him.

Grab him?

"Shit…" Judd croaked, trying to lift his head and immediately regretting it as he was hit with a fresh wave of dizziness.

"Damn, he's awake," said the other voice. Somewhere behind him. Male.

"He's not going anywhere," Goggles replied casually. As if to punctuate the statement, she kicked Judd in the stomach, driving the air from his lungs and compounding the overall shitty feeling.

He lifted himself as best as he could, and emptied his stomach right onto the woman's boots.

It was mostly wine.

"Fuck!" she yelped, dancing away only to come back a second later with more kicks, short, sharp, and angry. Judd did his best to protect his stomach with his legs until the blows stopped.

"Is he fucking drunk?" her companion said, disgust in his voice.

"Who cares? Grab him. This better be worth it."

"It'll wash off, Rika."

"I don't give a shit!" She knelt, grabbed Judd's chin between two fingers, and forced him to look up.

"Do that again and you'll really be sorry."

"Didn't fucking try to, but you're making me wish I had," he cut back, and she shoved him away.

"Got a mouth on him too. We'll have to train that outta you."

It wasn't until she said it that everything clicked. The pair weren't fellow scavs, here to rob him blind and leave him. They were slavers.

He muttered a curse under his breath, but Rika ignored him, grabbing onto his forearm and hauling him roughly to his feet.

Judd swayed, struggling to not be sick again as he stared into the darkness, willing his eyes to adjust. Far in the distance he could see the muted glow of the camp. If he had to run blind, at least he had a direction.

He didn't hesitate. As soon as Rika turned to say something else to her partner, Judd broke free and ran.

It was a moonless night, too dark to see even a yard in front of him, but he didn't let that stand in his way.

He ignored how sick he felt, ignored the pounding in his head, ignored everything but the thought of what would happen if he stopped.

Judd wasn't about to lose his fucking freedom over a mistake.

'I'm not your enemy,' Skye had said. Yeah fucking right. Was this part of his plan? Leave Judd all trussed up and incapacitated for his slaver buddies?

He heard the man yell behind him—way too close for comfort—and pushed himself to go faster.

Any other time he'd be outmatched. Dehydrated, bound, unable to see. But running for your life gave you a kind of edge.

Camp was a few miles out, but he had friends there. Trading partners. All he had to do was get within shouting distance and he could get help.

If it weren't for the fucking acacia, he might've actually gotten away.

It was a tiny thing, barely knee high. It should've crumbled as soon as he came into contact with it, but Judd was the one to fall.

Without his arms free to stop him, he hit the ground hard enough to bruise.

The pair of slavers were on him in an instant, the man pinning him to the ground while Rika tied his legs together. She gagged him too, adding insult to injury.

"Try that again. I fucking dare you," she spat. The man threw him over his shoulder, and it took all of Judd's willpower to not be sick.

They made the trek back to the pair's landspeeders, slinging Judd across the back of one of them like a piece of cargo.

He'd blown his chance to run. Short of flinging himself off a moving speeder, there was no escape, and all that would do was break a few bones.

There would be more opportunities, right? He'd find one. He'd find a way. The alternative—spending the rest of his life a captive, bought and sold and forced to do who-knows-what—was unbearable to think about.

He'd find a way. He'd break free. Fight off the rest of the slavers once his head cleared, kill them all if he had to.

They'd made a mistake taking him. Judd was a fucking fighter.

It wouldn't be long before they learned that firsthand.

×××

#i just like apocalypse ok #this is self indulgent #not sure how i want it to go? could do apocalypse pet whump #slow break #open to suggestions based on what people would want to read #probably gonna ignore my 'important' wips and do more of this because my brain is difficult like that #also once again need to name a thing ;-;#whump #whump writing #tw language #tw violence #tw slavery #post apocalyptic #judd harlow #defiant whumpee #captivity whump #tw emeto ment

27 notes · View notes

hittingthebrainsfunnybone · 1 year

Text

Thought. Fuck marry kill except your options are:

Whumped as much as you want for one night maximum, then you have to dump them on the side of the road or something. (Presumably, they survive)

Whumped as much as you want forever. Basement dungeon captivity arc.

Still kill, but it has to be quick and relatively painless.

Perfect for ocs and canons alike ^^

#whump #whump prompt #whump scenario #kinda #whumblr #if you are not struck with inspiration i suggest picking between #pathetic did nothing wrong sobbing whumpee defiant whumpee and stoic whumpee #back to the basics if you will lmao #whumpee

6 notes · View notes

its3nvy · 5 months

Text

"Wear the hat, ride the cowboy" Billy the Kid

Summary: After drawing the wrong kind of attention at the saloon, Billy comes to your rescue. Having to pretend to be his for the night, which leads to a ‘wear the hat, ride the cowboy’ situation ;)

Tags/warnings: mdni (18+), porn with no plot, angst, size kink, riding cock, overstimulation, fingering, breeding kink, creampie, unprotected sex, rough sex, dirty talk, slight knife kink

Note : This is my first time ever writing smut and I haven't edited it a lot so this should be fun. (Tell me if it's good or not pls)

tags: f!reader, smut

word count: 3.7k

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Curiosity led you to the local saloon one evening, where Billy often engaged in poker games. The air inside was thick with the smoky residue of cigars, and the occasional clinking of glasses underscored the distant melody of a forlorn piano. As you pushed through the creaking doors, your presence hung in the air, drawing the gaze of rough patrons whose eyes bore into you with a kind of familiarity you had never known. Unaccustomed to the bold gazes and suggestive comments that swirled around you like a threatening storm, you sought refuge at the bar. A man behind it was taking someone’s order.

You looked around, your eyes finally found Billy's familiar frame, surrounded by a haze of cigarette smoke, engaged in a high-stakes poker game.

“Hello, darlin’,” a drunken man stumbled toward you.

“Hello, sir,” you gave him a small smile, trying to avoid his intense stare.

He leaned against the bar to keep his balance. “Come on, darling, don’t be such a prude. Talk to me.” His hand reached up, attempting to caress your face.

From afar, you saw Billy, his eyes—usually mischievous and full of life—met yours with a fleeting recognition. Without uttering a word, he rose from his chair, his cowboy boots echoing a heavy cadence on the worn wooden floor.

The drunken man's intrusive advances persisted, his slurred words creating an uncomfortable tension. "Don’t play hard to get, honey. I can show you a good time," he insisted, his hand becoming more insistent. Ignoring the drunkard, you turned back to the bar, hoping for intervention. The man persisted, his persistence turning aggressive. As his hand encroached upon your personal space, a shadow fell over you.

Billy's presence loomed, his gaze colder than the steel of his revolver. Without a word, he grabbed the man's hand, his grip firm and unyielding. “Leave her alone," Billy's voice cut through the clamor of the saloon, his words echoing with a subtle menace.

The tension escalated, a palpable undercurrent surging through the room. The patrons, sensing the imminent storm, shifted uneasily. Billy's eyes held yours, a silent reassurance amid the brewing chaos. The drunk man, now confronted by the notorious gunslinger, stumbled backward, a mixture of recognition and fear contorting his expression. With a final warning glare from Billy, he slinked away into the crowd.

Billy turned towards you, his eyes softening as if to assure you that the storm had passed.

"What in the hell are ya doin’ here?", he murmured, his tone both gruff and concerned as he reached you, seizing your hand and guiding you to the quiet side of the room. "I needed to go out, Billy," you replied, your voice carrying a note of defiance and desperation.

He hissed, a trace of irritation etching lines across his rugged features. "You can’t. You gotta go home. These people here are dangerous," he warned.

"And you don’t think me leaving alone would be dangerous?" you shot back, your gaze a defiant challenge to the protective facade he wore like impenetrable armor.

"Shit," he conceded, his irritation mingling with a begrudging acceptance of your undeniable truth. "Alright, I’m finishing up my round, and then we can go," Billy relented, his tone an admission of defeat. "But you play along with me, ok? If they don’t think you're claimed, they'll see you as fair game," he said, his gaze locking onto yours with an intensity that cut through the smoky haze, demanding an unspoken oath.

“Ok,” you huffed out.

He pulled you towards his table with a rough yet oddly comforting grip, a silent acknowledgment that, for a fleeting moment, you were to be sheltered from the men surrounding you as long as you stayed with him. "Wait," he murmured, his hand lingering on yours. With a swift motion, he removed his hat, worn and weathered from a life on the precipice.

You extended your hand to stop him. "Billy, you can’t," you insisted, your voice barely more than a whisper, laden with the implications of his gesture. “You know what this means.”

"That’s the point," he declared, his crooked grin returning like a bittersweet promise of protection. As he placed his hat on your head, it became a proclamation, an unspoken claim made before the watchful eyes of everyone present, and a promise of a heated night that lingered in the air like an unspoken secret.

"Now, c’mere," he commanded, pulling you towards him as he settled into his chair, drawing you onto his lap. You bit on your lips, a mixture of anticipation and fear, the heat rising to your cheeks as the proximity between you tightened like a coiled spring. This was the first time Billy had been so close, and the magnetic pull of his presence ignited an unfamiliar fire within you.

He looked up at you as you bit your lips, his gaze a silent acknowledgment of the unspoken tension that hung thick in the air.

As he resumed his poker game, you felt his breath against your neck. "Pass me the whiskey, doll," he asked.

You leaned against the table, inadvertently pulling your hips tighter into his pelvis, sensing his hardness between you. His hands reached out against your hips, gripping you and keeping you still. "Careful," he warned against the shell of your ear, his breath raising goosebumps along your neck, a sensation that heightened the electrifying energy between you.

As you handed him the glass, he took a swig, and then, with a deliberate slowness, leaned down against the side of your neck, planting a lingering kiss. "Thank you, doll," his gravelly voice murmured, the aroma of whiskey lingering in the air.

Billy's fingers grazed lightly along your waist, sending a cascade of sensations through your body. His gaze met yours once more, a silent invitation lingering in his eyes. It was then that you became acutely aware of the speculative glances from the patrons, their curiosity fueled by the undeniable connection unfolding before them.

The weight of Billy's hat on your head felt like both a shield and a beacon, marking you as his amidst the prying eyes of the saloon.

The night passed on and as the final hand of poker concluded, Billy rose from his seat, still holding you close. "Wrapping it up for the night, boys. See ya tomorrow," he declared, his voice a mix of weariness and determination.

He grabbed your hand, guiding you out with a certain urgency. The saloon doors swung open, thrusting you back into the harsh glow of moonlight. As you stopped in front of his horse, he turned around and said, "What the hell were you thinking, coming here alone? You know how they treat women here."

His words cut through the night air, a mixture of concern and frustration etched on his rugged features. The distant sounds of revelry from the saloon formed a dissonant backdrop to the charged atmosphere between you.

You met his gaze, a swirl of emotions reflecting in his eyes. "I just wanted to have one free night, Billy. Just one," you replied, your voice carrying a note of desperation. Billy's jaw clenched, a silent acknowledgment of the dangers lurking in the shadows. "This ain't the place for that, especially not for someone like you," he muttered, his grip on your hand tightening as if to emphasize the point.

The weight of his words hung in the air, and for a moment, the world seemed to stand still. The moonlight cast shadows across his face, revealing the hardened resolve etched into his expression. "I can't have you wandering into places like this, doll," he continued, a trace of vulnerability underlying his gruff tone. "It's too damn dangerous."

Billy sighed, a heavy exhale that seemed to release the tension in the air. "Let's get you home," he said, his voice softened. With a final glance back at the saloon, you moved towards his horse. As you approached, he placed his hands on your hips, lifting you onto the horse with a gentle yet firm touch. You instinctively grabbed his forearm for support, your eyes locking in a shared moment of intimacy.

The ride home was a silent journey through the cool night air, the rhythmic hooves of the horse creating a steady cadence. You sat in front of Billy, the warmth of his body enveloping you, his strong arms encircling your waist as you traversed the dimly lit trails.

As the horse navigated the uneven terrain, Billy's embrace tightened slightly, offering both stability and reassurance. His chin rested on your shoulder, his warm breath tickling your neck, and in that intimate proximity, the weight of your unspoken desires lingered like an invisible thread weaving through the darkness.

Arriving at your doorstep, Billy helped you dismount, his touch lingering for a moment longer than necessary. Your eyes met, a complex tapestry of emotions woven between you. He spoke, his words a whisper carried away by the night breeze, "Be more careful, doll. This world ain't kind, especially to those with a heart as tender as yours." He placed his hand against your cheek, caressing it lovingly.

"Billy," you responded, the ache in your voice carrying a mixture of gratitude and longing. He placed a loving kiss on your forehead, his touch a hushed plea for silence. "Go to sleep, doll. I'll come by tomorrow morning," he whispered, giving you a kiss on the forehead, turning away.

"Billy, wait," an urgency surged within you, desperate to find a reason for him to stay. You took off your hat, intending to return it to him, a feeble attempt to anchor him in the moment. “Keep it. I prefer it on you,” he remarked, a bittersweet acknowledgment that stirred emotions too complex to unravel.

Locked in a gaze that spoke volumes, you inched toward him, a silent plea lingering in the air. As your fingers tightened around the hat, a palpable tension filled the space between you. His intense blue eyes held yours, revealing a tumult of unspoken struggles and desires. Your gaze shifted to his lips—slightly chapped yet irresistibly inviting.

Closing the distance, you reached him, and, without hesitation, pressed your lips against his. The kiss was a desperate plea, an attempt to convey the emotions that words couldn't capture.

Billy's initial surprise melted into a shared passion, and for a moment, the world around you faded. His arms encircled you, pulling you close as if trying to etch the moment into his memory. As the intensity deepened, you let go of the hat, your hands finding their way to his jaw, pulling him even closer. He tasted your soft lips and felt your warm skin. He pulled away slightly, breath mingling with yours, lips lingering, an anguished pause in the silent night.

"Fuck, doll," he groaned, your foreheads leaning against one another, his hands gripping the fabric on your waist. You looked up into his eyes, witnessing the inner battle reflected in his gaze as he grappled with the decision to restrain himself or not.

You approached your lips to his cheek, giving him a slight peck, when you heard him whisper, "Fuck it." His lips crashed to yours, hungry, hot, and demanding, stealing your breath in a heated rush. His hand came up, cupping your jaw, angling your head to deepen the kiss as he slicked his tongue inside your mouth.

“Come, let’s go inside, yeah?” He asked. You nodded at him, as he gave you a quick kiss, ushering you inside, “good girl.” And in an instant, he’s moving toward you, wrapping his arms around your body and pressing you to his chest. You press your lips to his and moan at the taste of Whiskey. His tongue slides over yours in slow strokes that make your cheeks warm, but it’s when his teeth nip at your bottom lip that a whine escapes.

His rough, calloused hands drop to the cusp of your neck, gripping your hair just tight enough to make you hiss. You arch into his touch as he starts to explore your body, mapping out every dip and curve.

“Billy- Please… do something.” He moans a response into your neck as his lips slip down to leave love bites along the column of your throat.

Eager to feel you, Billy tried to pull at the strings of your corset, but to no avail. It was too complicated to remove in the dark, and with the emotions aptly blinding him, Billy had no patience to try.

In the dark, you heard a flick of a knife, and you felt a cold tip of the blade against your skin before Billy’s voice comforted you, “Be a good girl and don’t move, ok?”

A rip ran through the air as Billy sliced your corset in half from the back. You stayed perfectly still, trusting him completely to cut the clothing off of you without harming you at all. The moment Billy had cut your corset, he dropped it to the floor and pulled your top off with it.

He immediately lets his hands drop to your breasts, nipples already pebbling from the cool air. He pinches and pulls at them for only a moment before he’s trailing kisses down your stomach.

Bilily stops just above your hip bones, “May I?” he asks, blue eyes peering up at you. “Yes. Billy, please.” You beg him, voice thick with desperation. He chuckles and then rubs his hand over your throbbing clit. He slides one, then two thick fingers into your dripping pussy. A whimper bubbles from your swollen lips as he pulls back to spit on your heat. His fingers curl, digits stretching and scissoring inside you. Your head feels like it’s spinning, arousal leaking from your cunt and down Billy’s fingers.

Your hips are unable to escape his assault on your g-spot when he pins you down, and you let out a moan you hardly recognize as your own. “Shit, you’re so wet.” His teeth catch his bottom lip as he smiles down at your fucked-out form.

Billy’s hand never slows, even as he grinds his palm into your poor clit. You cum not long after, waves of pleasure crashing over and drowning you in euphoria. Your body is trembling as you come back to Earth and Billy is there, watching you from between your thighs. He places a kiss on your sensitive clit before he stands back up, towering over you.

“Please. Fuck me, Billy.” You say through heavy breaths. He feels his head spin at the sound of your voice.

“Whatever you want, doll.”

Billy lays you across the couch and crawls over you, leaning back to release his aching cock from the confines of his pants. Saliva pools in your mouth at the sight of him, pre-cum drips from his flushed, red tip.

He fists his cock at the sight of you below him, lips parted and breasts heaving. Billy leans his body over yours, trapping you between him and the cushions below you. You can feel the muscle covering his torso press against your tummy. He ruts his cock through your pussy, the head catching on your clit deliciously. You both moan at the feeling and link your fingers together.

“Fuck, you’re so perfect. I’m gonna make you all mine”, Billy coos down at you, searching your face for any hesitance. You nod at him, earning you a keen smile and a quick kiss. “It’s gonna hurt, doll, I’m sorry.” Squeezing his hand, you hold your breath when he lines himself up with your entrance.

You gasp when his tip slips into you, already feeling like he’s split you in two. Salty tears start to well in your lash line at the burn of Billy’s cock stretching you out for the first time. He’s much bigger than you anticipated and you dig your nails into his skin.

“I know, I know. Just breathe.” He tries his best to comfort you, gritting his teeth at the feeling of your cunt around him. His heart stings at the sight of you crying for reasons other than pleasure, but he can’t help it when his hips buck, pushing himself another inch deeper.

Billy knows he should feel guilty for liking the way you screw your eyes shut, the way your cunt flutters around him even though he’d worked you open already. He’s not even halfway inside you and your legs are trembling around his waist while he holds himself back from pushing in balls-deep. He can’t help but feel a sense of pride swell in his chest at the effect he has on your body.

Billy’s hand leaves yours and drops to your clit, rubbing tight circles with his thumb. Your mouth opens into an “O” shape and your sloppy cunt grants him another inch. He can feel the velvet of your walls drawing him deeper, euphoria building in your veins. With every circle drawn, Billy pushes in further and further until he’s finally buried to the hilt. He stills for a moment, letting your cock-drunk mind play catchup with your body. “I’m gonna move, is that ok, doll?”

He pulls out, making you whine at the empty sensation, then, he’s driving his hips forward again. You loop your arms around his neck as he attacks your insides. Any words you have die on your tongue as Billy sets a rough, passionate pace. His tan skin, covered in old and new scars, feels slick against yours as his cock splits your mind in half. You can feel Billy everywhere, you can taste him, touch him, smell him, see him. He’s completely overwhelmed your senses and given you nothing to think about other than him.

The air around you is humid and thick, the scent of sex swimming through it. Billy slips in and out of you with ease, the clear strings of your slick and his pre-cum coat your pussy lips like a gloss. You let your gaze fall on him, watching how his brows furrow with concentration while he molds your insides into the shape of him.

Billy lifts your hips in the air to get an angle that allows him to hit even deeper, pumping his cock into you so hard that the air is forced from your lungs. There’s no one else you could want, no one else who could ever make you feel like this.

“Shit Billy. I’m so close.” You moan, a familiar warmth starting to coil in your tummy. He nods and slots his lips against yours for one final kiss. His tongue explores your mouth as his dick strikes your g-spot, sending you headfirst into bliss. You cum hard as every nerve in your body is set aflame. His hot, sticky cum floods your walls and leaks from around his cock.

Silence lies thick in the air aside from your heavy breathing and the soft kisses you share. Billy leans back to peer down at where you’re connected and shakes his head at you.

He picks you up and places you over his hips, leaning you back. “Can’t waste this, doll.” He tuts at you, gathering the cum leaking from your abused pussy on his tip and pushing it back in. Throwing an arm behind his head, a fucked-out grin crosses his features as you sink down on his cock, letting him rub against your most sensitive spots. A strangled moan sounds in the back of your throat as he slowly pushes back into the deepest parts of your cunt.

His tongue darts out to lick the sweat off of his cupid’s bow, large hands moving to slide down your hips to grab at the fat of your ass. He guides you up and down on him as you babble and cry.

“I’ve got you, doll.” His words send a shiver down your spine and you brace yourself on his broad shoulders. Your cunt flutters around him, “Fuck Billy’-” you cry out.

Billy groans at the sight of a white ring around his shaft, made from a mixture of his and your cum. “So tight… taking me so fuckin’ well.” He bucks his hips, tip grazing your g-spot just right, just enough to make your eyes roll up into your head. “C’mon, doll.”

He leans forward to press a kiss to your forehead, then captures your lips with his. He swallows every moan and hiccup as he pounds into you, only slowing when you clench impossibly tighter around him. Stars are dancing in your vision and pleasure is burning in your veins. You hear him swear again, he lets his head fall back onto the cushions and plants his boots flat on the floor. You nearly scream as he fucks back up into you. He’s growling something in your ear, but his words sound so far away.

“Cum on my cock, doll. C’mon, do it. Do it for me.” Billy babbles in your ear as he loses his rhythm, now just slamming his hips into yours with all the force he could muster. Your arms are clinging to his neck and he has you trapped against him. White, hot pleasure hits you like a ton of bricks as you squirm on Billy’s lap. His teeth sink into your shoulder as he pumps his hot, sticky cum into your womb.

He lays back on the couch, letting you rest against his chest. With a tender touch, he leaned down, pressing a soft kiss on the top of your hair. His lips lingered for a moment. As he pulled back, his fingers began to stroke your hair slowly, each caress a testament to the unspoken passion that simmered between you.

“From now on, that hat stays on you, doll. Let everyone in town see you belong to me."

send me billy thoughts or requests pleaseee :)

#billy the kid #billy the kid x reader #billy the kid smut #william bonney #coriolanus snow #tom blyth #wear the hat ride the cowboy #save a horse ride a cowboy

5K notes · View notes

redxriiot · 1 year

Text

Anon said : Degradation? 『 Meme || Accepting 』

"That one kinda depends. Like, mid-fuck? Oh, yeah, totally. Little earlier on tho's kinda a real good way to get me all snippy'n unless that's what yer into, I say hold off on it a bit."

#anon #ic #answered #suggestive #//Degradation needs for him to be in the right headspace or he's gonna start actin up defiant #//Pretty effective method is as he's stated; but can also work depending on how much he was knocked around before that too #//Yet another pro to sparring before hooking up with him #//If he's been battered up and dazed; he is SO susceptible to getting turned on by degradation; it's not even funny #//Gets all whiney and squirmy; especially if he's being pinned or manhandled at the same time #//He'll be SO embarrassed once he gets back out of that headspace; but while in it; he can be so cute and pathetic #hc

0 notes

whumpsday · 2 months

Text

Conflict Whump Challenge

A whump challenge based on this comic by Grant Snider. The prompts are the conflicts listed in the comic!

Here are some ideas to get you started, but you can do anything the prompts from the comic inspire in you--these are only suggestions!

Man vs. Nature - Environmental whump, Animal attack, Sickfic

Man vs. Society - Dystopian society, Institutionalized whump, Fugitive

Man vs. Technology - Sci-fi whump, Robots, Shock collar

Man vs. man - Kidnapping, Defiant whumpee, Forced to hurt

Man vs. Self - Struggling with recovery, Slowed down by injuries, Evil clone

Man vs. Reality - Transported to another realm, Reality-altering powers, Facing reality

Man vs. God - Cults, Deity whumper, Deity whumpee

Man vs. No God - Crisis of faith, Demons, False god

Man vs. Author - Whumpee becomes self-aware about being a character in a whump story, You wake up inside your own story, Misery situation

In this context, "man" is gender-neutral (as in "mankind") and the whumpee can be any gender.

The challenge is bingo-style: create three pieces to fill any one row, column, or diagonal arrangement to complete the challenge! If you want to go the extra mile, you could even go for filling all nine prompts.

There is no time limit on this challenge, it can be completed at any time at your own pace.

Tag your work #conflictwhumpchallenge or #conflict whump challenge so others can find it!

#whump event #whump challenge #whump community #whump #whump prompt #whump prompts #conflict whump challenge #conflictwhumpchallenge

549 notes · View notes

freedomfireflies · 1 month

Note

any chance we can get asher back for mine!harry blurb? i miss my pookie :(

Summary: The one where you're not feeling so hot and Harry and Asher just want to help.

Word Count: 1.1k

Content Warning: 18+, very brief smut, very brief daddy kink, lots of fluff, not suitable for Ramadan!

“That’s it…good. Take it…fucking take me, mama.”

With every thrust and drive of Harry's hips, you can’t help but whimper. Nails scratching down his broad back while his nose dances along your cheek. You feel whole. Connected. In tune to his pleasure as you tighten your legs around his hips and kiss him.

“So fucking wet, sugar,” he exhales. His thumb finds your clit and he rubs in fast, determined circles. “S’it feel good? My baby’s cunny just needed some attention, hm? Needed me to fill her up?”

You nod—about the only coherent response you can offer—and melt into the feel of his mouth moving to your chest. It feels good. This is what you needed. You’ve missed him. And you needed someone to scratch this itch and make things right again.

And then, a throat clears.

Not yours. Not Harry’s.

Asher’s.

He’s standing in the doorway to the bedroom, watching. His kind eyes are now suspicious and deviant. And he’s not looking at Harry. He’s looking at you.

And you know why.

Harry doesn’t mind the audience. He continues, strong hands cemented to your hips as he tugs you up in order to get a better angle. “You all right, Ash?” he calls.

Asher raises his chin. “Tell him,” he says to you. Resolute. Unwavering in a way that suggests he won't be letting this go.

You hesitate, stomach dropping as the threat of punishment hangs heavy in the air.

Harry smirks. “Tell me what?”

You shake your head. “Nothing,” you whisper before shooting a pointed look toward the door. “Nothing.”

“Sweetheart,” Asher warns, crossing his arms before leaning against the frame. “It’ll be worse if I have to tell him.”

Now Harry seems to understand and begins to slow his thrusts, offering you a curious expression meant to calm you. “What’s wrong, mama?”

You chew on your lip. You don’t want to tell him. You want this and you attempt to clench around his cock in order to get him to continue.

He smiles.

“She had a fever this morning,” Asher finally says and you bite back a groan. “She’s been dizzy all day and nearly fainted earlier. I told her to stay in bed and rest. Not do anything too strenuous. But I have a feeling she didn’t mention that to you.”

Harry’s grin instantly fades into disappointment and you know, undoubtedly, that you’re in rather big trouble now.

The one thing they prioritize more than anything is your health and safety.

“Sugar,” Harry starts, and you feel your heart skip, “are you not feeling well?”

You squirm beneath him. “I’m…I’m fine. I’m okay to do this—”

“Were you sick this morning?”

“…I was just…I mean, maybe a little, but—”

“Did you know you were going against Asher’s request when you begged me to fuck you?” he says firmly, and your skin feels like it’s on fire. You hate upsetting him. “Were you purposefully disobeying him?”

Shit, shit, shit. “I…I wasn’t trying to, I just…I missed you.”

And it’s the truth. You have missed him. You weren’t trying to be defiant, but you love Harry and you wanted to feel him. And you figured an orgasm could be just what the doctor ordered.

His features soften now as he dips down to kiss your nose. “I know, mama. I’ve missed you, too. But you know better than to disobey, don’t you?”

Regretfully, you nod.

“Then, I’m gonna ask you a question and I expect the truth. Is that understood?”

Another nod.

“Are you unwell right now? Do you feel tired or feverish or even the slightest bit uncomfortable?”

You could lie. You could tell him that you’ve been fucked back to health. That you rested and now you’re replenished.

But he’d know. And you’d know. And Asher would know.

So, you thread your fingers through his curls and whisper, “I’m…a little tired. And sore."

His expression falls. He’s gutted to know you're in pain but proud of you for finally admitting it. “Good girl,” he says before he kisses your cheek and begins to pull out. “All right then. Are you gonna let us take care of you now? The right way?”

Almost begrudgingly, you nod once again and melt into the mattress as he and Asher discuss the best way to help.

They run you a bath and help carry you to the tub. Harry joins you in the warm water and pulls you between his legs so he can sweep a washcloth up and down your clammy skin. Helping you feel clean and calm.

And when you're through, Asher is there with a big, fluffy towel to wrap you up in. Drying you off gently before bringing you back to bed and kissing your temple sweetly while tucking you beneath the covers.

“Thank you,” you say faintly as he runs his thumb over your cheek. “Even though you’re a snitch.”

He laughs. “Mhm. And I’d do it again.”

With that, he leaves you and Harry alone for the evening, something Harry is more than all right with.

He crawls into bed beside you, quickly pulling you to his chest before taking your temperature and offering you medicine and water.

“I’m sorry you didn’t get to finish,” you whisper as he’s turning out the light.

However, even in the dark, you can anticipate his frown. “Sugar…finishing is not the goal for me. You know that. I like to finish with you, but I don’t fuck you for that. I fuck you because I love you. I want to be close to you. I want to feel you and make you finish.”

You run your fingers down his chest and sigh. “I know, I just…I like when you do. I like that I can do that for you.”

You feel his lips brush across your forehead before he’s wrapping you between his arms. “I know, mama. I’ll make you a deal. Once you’re well again, I’ll fuck you as many times as you want. Make you cum over and over and over again. Until you’re all sensitive and overstimulated.”

You grin. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. And you’ll take it, won’t you?”

“Yes, daddy.”

“Mhm. That’s what I thought.” He chuckles before there’s a long, silent lull. “I love you. You know that?”

Your heart just about explodes out of your chest. “I love you, too.”

“Good.” Another kiss. Soft. Gentle. “Horny little thing. Even got Asher to tell on you.”

“I know,” you laugh. “I was kind of surprised. But to be fair, I didn’t really disobey him. I was on bed rest. We were doing missionary, and you were doing all the work. All I had to do was lay there.”

Harry laughs and the sound is beautiful. “And you’re sneaky, too, hm?”

“Hey, an orgasm a day keeps the doctor away.”

“All right, that’s enough out of you. Go to sleep, yeah?” He pinches your hip. “We’ll discuss this when you’re better. But something tells me Asher won’t be so willing to let you off the hook.”

You smile.

“Good.”

Okay fine I missed Asher, too 😭 HE IS CUTE WHEN HE WANTS TO BE!!

~ Mine Masterlist

~ Main Masterlist

Taglist: @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @keepdrivingkisses @swiftmendeshoran @tiredinwinter @straightontilmornin @justlemmeadoreyou @harrysdaydreams @tiaamberxx @peterparker1sgf @myfavfanficsever @littlenatilda @vamprry @fdl305 @tchalametishot @ssaama @indierockgirrl @likeapplejuicenpeach @lukesaprince @closureesny @lc-fics @0nlythrowharrybeaux @hannahdressedasabanana @dylanobandposts21 @butdaddyilovehim-hs @floral-recs @itjustkindahappenedreally @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @laelamarley @acesofspadess @stylesfever @caynonmoondreams @virginvirgo @pagesfalling @creativelyeva @char112244 @snwells @armystay89 @oh-my-hecky-padalecki @blackbookwhore @nellylayhoohoo @22fallenangel22 @watercolorskyy @ilovedilfs32 @nicodoesntexist @lelenikki @happypoptart

517 notes · View notes

defiantsuggestions · 3 months

Text

Your worth is not tied into anything you do or do not do. You don't have to earn the right to exist. You don't have to earn the right to rest or sustain yourself.

No one asked to be born.

It is basic survival to care for oneself.

Do you think frogs sit there on their lily pads and beat themselves up over not deserving the flies they catch?

The idea that you have to do or be anything to deserve the right to live is wrong.

You're here. You're alive. That in itself means you have a right to take care of yourself and to do things that make you happy.

You don't have to earn it and the fact you were taught otherwise is nothing short of cruelty.

#defiant suggestion #defiant suggestions #actually abused #actually traumatized #actuallytraumatized #actuallyabused #cptsd #complex post traumatic stress disorder

569 notes · View notes

erwinsvow · 1 month

Text

you fiddle with the r necklace, rubbing it between your fingers like you always do deep in thought. you should have gotten rid of the necklace the day the two of you broke up, but a hopelessly sad and defiant part of you refused to take it off. it’d been long enough now that it was getting to the point of weird rather than just pathetic. at least, your friends thought so, and they never hesitated to let you know. after all, there was no one that hated your boyfriend more than them.

“you’re doing it again,” kiara comments, staring at your hand mid-motion, the pendant slipping from your grip as you drop it immediately.

“doing what?” you question innocently, face burning.

“i still think it’s creepy that he wanted you to wear a necklace with his initial. it’s like a brand. it’s dehumanizing.”

“or, like, a dog collar,” jj says, holding back a laugh. you look up at them with a blank expression, because you really don’t have any retort. maybe it was rafe’s brand on you, maybe your friends are right. but you think, chest tight, that you didn’t mind being branded by him.

you change the topic because you’ll start crying if you think about it too long—of course they don’t mind, they encourage you to talk about anything but rafe these days. if only it was that easy to get your mind off of him.

rafe doesn’t make it easy on you either. what was supposed to be an amenable break-up had transformed and twisted into something completely different—something that your friends would kill you if they found out about. the first few weeks had been normal, like any other break-up, you sobbed on john b’s shoulder, accepted tissues from pope and listened to jj talk badly about rafe for as long as you could listen. you spent hours with kiara and sarah exploring all the reasons why it was so not meant to be, not when you and rafe were night and day, not when he was still dealing and doing coke. and then, just like other break-ups, the time came to put all of rafe’s shirts and the teddy bears he’d bought you and the photos on your wall into a box and get rid of it all.

you think you’re doing a good thing, by bringing rafe his shirts back instead of burning them like jj suggested. you knock on the door to tannyhill, making sure you spot his truck parked outside—even though one glance at the car where you’d lost your virginity to rafe makes your face burn up. you feel flushed and clammy when rafe opens the door, and he looks at you like nothing’s happened since he saw you last, and the rest of your resolve caves almost immediately.

“hey, kid.”

“hi,” you chirp, pulling your eyes away from rafe’s before he convinces you to do something you’ll regret. “i brought your clothes back. i had more than i realized.” you offer him the box, but he doesn’t extend his arms.

“nah, you can keep them. you’ll be needin’ them anyways.”

“what?”

“how long d’you think we’re gonna stay broken up for? huh? another week? two?”

“rafe, i-”

“it’s okay, kid, just keep them.”

“no, i think you should take them-”

“why don’t you come upstairs and put them away f’me? hm?”

the first time it happens, you tell yourself it was a one-time mistake, that could happen to anyone. you’re wrapped up in rafe’s sheets, naked and sweaty, trying your hardest to catch your breath while you stare at the muscles of rafe’s back while he pulls up his laptop and finishes whatever he was working on. your phone keeps going off, probably your friends wondering why you’re so late to dinner. you pray to god kiara doesn’t check your location.

“you gonna get that?” rafe asks, turning back to look at you. you just look at him, delirious and still incredibly sad, wondering if this is the last time you’ll ever be in rafe’s bed again.

“no, they’re just gonna ask me where i am.”

“still lettin’ them control how you really feel? gotta work on that, baby.” you feel any anger bubbling up at the fact that rafe still thinks you let your friends decide your feelings for you—a key point you had argued during the break-up—melt away at the sound of the nickname.

“they don’t like how much i like you.” you say it kind of sadly, like things could be different, like the two of you could have made it work in another world. you fiddle with your necklace, before unclasping it and letting it drop onto rafe’s palm. “i should go now.”

it feels much too intense, like the third-act breakup in the cheesy books you read. you want rafe to fight for you, you want your friends to like him, but that means he has to change, and as much as it pains you to admit it, you don’t want any part of him to change. you want your friends to change their minds, but they won’t, and you want rafe to care that your friends don’t like him, but he doesn’t.

you try to move but he manhandles you into place, a hand on your wrist tugging you back into bed. he pushes your hair aside, clasping the necklace back on, and then rafe presses a kiss to the back of your neck.

“don’t ever take this off again, got it?”

you nod. rafe sends you to the chateau in one of his shirts and you pray to god no one notices that or your necklace is still in its usual place.

the next time it happens, you can’t even try to argue that it was an accident. you knew rafe wouldn’t make this easy for you, but you didn’t think he could make it so impossibly difficult. his texts light up your phone, only a few feet away from pope and john on the couch, watching the movie but only half paying attention.

R: where are you tonight

R: you coming here or do i need to come get you?

your heart settles into your stomach, being attacked by the wings of the butterflies that have made their home there. rafe talks to you like the two of you are still dating, and your mind slips into an easy, soft place where that is still your reality.

“what kinda porn are you lookin’ at right now?” jj asks, and you break out of your fantasy.

“what?” you blubber out, before john b interrupts.

“jj, stop making everything about porn.”

“i’ve seen that look before, man, it’s the exact face pope makes when he found somethin’ fun and fresh. so what’s your type, i mean, you can share with the class-”

after slapping jj on the back of the head and reassuring everyone that there was no porn on your phone—only the promise of something better waiting for you, but they don’t need to know that—you head out, replying to rafe quickly.

coming now.

this time, you can’t lie and act surprised that you’ve ended up here again. rafe turns on his tv to watch the evening news, and it’s so silly you almost want to laugh, but you stay silent, watching him watch the news and taking a sip of the water he got for you.

you turn your head to place the cup on his nightstand, and see your lip balm perched next to his lamp.

“i’ve been looking for this,” you say, picking it up and turning to rafe.

“yeah, you left it here.”

“why didn’t you tell me?”

“‘cause i knew you’d be back.”

you think that’s enough to be your reality check. it’s not.

a week later, you accompany your friends to the bonfire. you play with your necklace while they fill up plastic cups with beer from the keg.

“you’re never gonna get over him if you keep wearing things he got you,” kiara says, taking a sip from her cup. you know she’s only trying to help you, that she’s only worried about you. you wish they would stop bringing him up.

“i’m not ready to take it off.”

“that’s not healthy. in fact, that’s so unhealthy that-”

“i said i’m not ready. can we drop it?”

“why not?” she asks, and you feel tears start to build along your eyes. “oh jeez, speak of the devil.” you feel a familiar hand on your shoulder, turning to face rafe.

“can i have a minute?” he says, looking at kie.

“no. you can’t have any,” comes her reply, until you look back.

“kie, i’ll be right back.”

you and rafe walk, ignoring the shout of your friend to not go, to an empty spot by the fire.

“didn’t think you’d come here,” rafe says, quietly. you look at your shoes to avoid looking into his eyes.

“they dragged me along… trying to make me meet someone new.”

“yeah? is it working?”

“i just told my best friend i’m not ready to take your necklace off, so, what’d you think-” rafe stops you, his hand coming up to lift your chin to make you meet his eyes finally. he presses his lip to yours—it feels different than the hundreds of times he’s kissed you before. your eyes flutter shut, a sole tear spilling down your cheek.

you wonder if everyone’s looking. you decide you don’t really care.

“i told ya not to take that necklace off.”

“i listened, rafe,” you breathe softly.

“i know,” he says, kissing you again and then pulling away. “you’re a good girl. you always listen. i’m done with this crap, and i don’t care what your idiot friends say. not staying away from you. no one can make me, not even you.”

“i don’t want you to stay away.” rafe takes the pendant with his initial into his fingers, playing with it before letting it fall against your chest.

“good. now go tell them you’re coming home with me and let’s get outta here.”

#lolll #this is one of those things you write for yourself n get embarrassed to post #this ones like.... you and rafe are broken up but 'broken up' means nothing to him #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader

536 notes · View notes

musingmeaninglessly · 1 year

Text

In Deep ; Neteyam x Fem!Human! Reader

Summary: When Tuk gets stuck underwater, there's only one person who can save her...

Lil bit angsty, lil bit fluffy. If you're sensitive to matters related to drowning, I suggest you skip this story.

If not, then enjoy! 💙

"Aaaand, I'm officially done."

Hands burning, you release the final inky braid of your boyfriend's that you've been working on.

Leaning his head back against your lap from his seat on the floor, Neteyam's glimmering eyes meet yours as he beams.

"Thank you, yawntutsyìp, what would I do without you?"

You don't get a chance to answer as he gently pulls your face down to meet his, the glass of your exopack chilly against his forehead. When he finally releases you, he's smiling wider than ever, but the same can't be said for the other figure present.

Sharpening her spear, Neytiri's glare never leaves you. Throughout the six month's worth of courting her son, you've never once been able to win her approval. Seeing her pride and joy be practically polluted by a damned tawtute was not her vision for the eldest Sully child.

And you felt that. Even without the prejudices against your species, what could you possibly offer her family? You lack the basic genetics that make the Na'vi so wondrous, not to mention the survival skills and intelligence. No matter how much Neteyam tells you otherwise, you feel inferior. And Neytiri's hostility doesn't help.

Yet in spite of it al, Neteyam had been defiant of his mother for the first time in his life. And it was all in pursuit of you; his star girl, his little love, his mate.

He catches your worrisome look and follows your eyes over to his mother's. With a sigh, he frowns at her silently, but her eyes remain the same, burning more ferociously than the campfire between you. No one says a thing; well, no one actually gets the chance.

"Help! HELP! It's Tuk!!"

The sound of Kiri's voice is the only thing that snaps Neytiri's attention away from you and her son. The teenage girl sprints over to where you all rise from your seats in a panic. She's gasping for breath and drenched from the ocean's waters.

Neteyam takes a step towards his sister, flashing you a worried, yet warm, look before he does so. Ever the level-headed communicator, he puts a hand on her shoulder, "Kiri, slow down. What's happened?"

"We- me, Lo'ak and Tuk- were free diving, and she spotted that new species of coral- you know, the one Norm told us about?"

Your eyes widened at that- you knew exactly which species she was talking about. A mysterious unnamed specimen with the ability to interact with the energy around it, not dissimilar to the Venus Flytrap plants you'd read about on Earth. Norm had told you all about this new discovery made by one of the botanists, detailing it's features and abilities. It was honestly quite fascinating; powerful, alive, dangerous.

"This new species, yes, I remember." Neteyam's green eyes transform with an amber hue just as Neytiri begins bombarding Kiri with a million questions.

"Well, we went to get a better look at it, and I told Tuk not to touch, but she didn't listen!" Kiri begins to cry, her face wracked with guilt. By this point, several overhearing Metkayina have joined the scene, "It's got her!"

"I can't reach her...the gap in the coral is too small..." Lo'ak suddenly appears on land, visibly exhausted.

"Can't we cut her free?" Neteyam sensibly suggests, but his siblings shake their heads.

"We tried, but whenever you cut a piece, even more grows!" Kiri wailed, prompting Lo'ak to put an arm around her. You make a mental note to suggest the name 'Hydra' to Norm once this is all over. "There's a gap in the coral-"

"-I will go!" Neytiri booms, ridding herself of her bow and spear. Lo'ak, however, stops her in her tracks.

"It's no use, mother! The gap is way too small, I couldn't fit through it..."

You squeeze Neteyam's hand sympathetically, and when his amber eyes meet yours, you get an idea. Amidst all the commotion, the panicked voices and desperate dives into the water, it all becomes crystal clear to you.

"I'll get her out."

Everyone's attention snaps over to you in an instant, not quite believing what you've just said.

"My love, it's far too dangerous! What if the water leaks into your mask?" Neteyam kneels down in front of you, sternness lacing his features. You simply shake your head.

"I'm the only one who can reach her and fit through the gap, I must go."

Neteyam exchanges a worried glance with his siblings, ignoring his mother's scornful expression. Lo'ak and Kiri nod to him, and he knows what he has to do.

"Then I will go with you."

"What's going on?"

Jake suddenly appears with Tonowari, presumably returning from some sort of meeting.

"No time to explain, Dad. Please could you fetch Y/N's spare mask?" Neteyam briefly requests, and is met with a nod of his father's head.

Meanwhile, you hurriedly rid yourself of your blouse. It's a flowing, loose fabric- certainly not appropriate for swimming. With no other choice, you're left in your bra before taking Neteyam's hand and diving into the water.

Lo'ak and Kiri promptly follow, helping you get down to the specific spot. Several other Metkayina follow you in, unable to help, but worried for the youngest Sully.

When you see Tuk, you have to do your best not to panic. She's more-or-less unconscious, limbs entangled in the coral's moving tendrils. Neteyam's grip on your hand tightens, but you place yours on his chest, wordlessly reassuring him, and he lets you go.

Lo'ak helps you over to the small gap in the coral. It's no wonder the siblings struggled, the opening is barely wide enough for a human to fit through. Yet, somehow you do, mindful of the fact that one wrong move would put you in the exact same situation as Tuk. With that in mind, you carefully make your way to her body after taking Lo'ak's knife from him.

There's really no other choice but to cut Tuk free, but you have to make quick work of it. Thankfully, your nimble fingers are up to the task as the Sully siblings watch on desperately.

But, amidst your hard work, you fail to notice that the suction lining of your exopack had come slightly free along your jaw, letting in a small trickle of water and, in turn, a whisper of oxygen out.

Neteyam goes to lunge towards you, noticing a small amount of water build up in your mask. But Lo'ak holds him back, signing that you're fine.

That's what you try to tell yourself as you hold your mask to your face tightly, cutting away at the last couple of coral tendrils. When you give Kiri the signal, she slashes an opening above you, and you haul Tuk's body out of the coral entrapment before the tendrils can grow back.

The rest of it becomes a blur. The Sully siblings are at your side in an instant, hauling you and Tuk up the surface. Your mask continues to fill with water and once it floods above your nose, you hold your breath. But, by some miracle, your head soon breaks through the water's edge above you.

Kiri and Lo'ak take Tuk from you while Neteyam wraps his arms firmly around your waist. "It's going to be alright, my love, we're almost there..."

He continues to murmur to you comfortingly through his own panic, finally reaching Jake and grabbing for the spare mask. "I'm going to take this off, alright?"

You have no time to acknowledge his words before your mask is swiftly swept off of your face and the new, dry, undamaged replacement is secured against your skin. You gasp in jagged breaths, only now processing it all as Neteyam bundles you against him.

"My brave, brave girl..." he whispers into your hair, cupping the back of your head as you both float in the water. For a moment, the both of you seem to forget about Tuk, and it's only when you hear her coughing back on the shore that you remember.

"Oh, thank Ewya!" Neytiri gasps, sobbing hysterically as she reaches to comfort her youngest daughter. "Don't you ever do that again, do you hear me child?!"

Tuk nods with a cry, before rushing over to you. "Y/N, you saved me! Thank you, thank you, thank you..."

The rest of the family smile at the two of you, Jake and Lo'ak thanking you profusely while Kiri joins yours and Tuk's group hug.

"Hey, hey, careful. She needs to breathe..." Neteyam protectively instructs, gently pulling his sisters off of you. You smile at them and mouth a silent 'thank you' to your boyfriend, before turning to hug him as he kneels to your height.

"My love," Neteyam's deep voice draws a soft smile from you as he tenderly cups your cheek, "you were so brave."

You can't help blushing at his praise, but grasp at his hand that's cupping your exopack-covered cheek and pull him closer. "You would've done the same if you could have, ma 'Teyam..."

The longer you hold him, the more pronounced the little sniffles heard from him become. Pulling back, you eye him worriedly, 'What is it, 'Teyam? Are you alright?"

Coaxing his eyes open by running the pads of your fingers beneath them, his tearful irises meet yours. "I could've lost you, little one..."

"But you didn't," you gently remind him, holding his hand over your heart, "I'm here, and I love you. Okay?"

Neteyam nods forcefully, almost as if an absence of the action would make you disappear. Yet, his eyes never leave yours. Not even for a moment.

"I love you...so deeply...even deeper than the waters you just braved for my sister..."

Now it's your eyes that overflow with salty tears and you throw your arms around Neteyam's broad shoulders. "I love you, 'Teyam...Nga yawne lu oer..."

"Y/N,"

The sound of your name breaks up the tender moment prematurely, and you spring away from Neteyam. In truth, you'd forgot that his family, and several people from the Metkayina tribe, were watching.

It had been Neytiri's voice that cut through the sweet moment like a knife through butter. You gulp, craning your neck to face the Sully matriarch, who's shrugging off her mate's hand from her shoulder.

You're surely for it now.

But to your pleasant surprise, she drops to her knees and hangs her head in..shame? Eyes wide, you look at her children and Jake, wondering what on Pandora you're supposed to do now. But they all smile softly.

"Forgive me. I've underestimated you, thought you like them. But you saved my child at your own risk. I was wrong."

You can tell that Neytiri's English isn't quite advanced enough to fully communicate her thanks. But it's there in her eyes.

"Please, forgive me..."

With a gentle nod of your head, you smile. You never expected Neytiri to see you as anything other than a Sky Person, but you really didn't expect her to grab at you and pull you into a hug.

Your arms raise to your side in surprise, and the look on your face is clearly comical enough to make Lo'ak burst out laughing- until Jake smacks him up the side of his head. Tentatively, you return Neytiri's hug. "I forgive you..."

"You are good for my son," Neytiri pulls back to look at you with a warmth you've never seen before, "thank you."

"Okay, Mother, let little Y/N breathe." Neteyam chuckles, gently pulling you back towards him. Neytiri shakes her head at her son's overprotectiveness, but fondly places her hand atop your head for a short moment before returning to fuss over Tuk.

You turn back to Neteyam and a soft hum leaves his lips and his eyes trail over your face, before he notices some Metkayina boys gawking at you. Only then do the both of you realise that you're stood in your bra and a pair of shorts.

"W-we, uh, let's get you back to the lab, get you some more clothes." Neteyam suggests, using his towering advantage to shield your body from prying eyes as his own glare at the intruders.

"Good idea," you giggle, desperate to be a little more concealed now that you're aware of your state, "I could do with a nap."

"I'm not surprised," Neteyam's face softens and he tilts his head, "may I join you?"

#neteyam x human reader #neteyam x reader #neteyam #avatar #neteyam sully #avatar 2 #neteyam te suli tsyeyk'itan #atwow #Neteyam angst #Neteyam fluff #Neteyam x y/n #Neteyam x fem reader #Neteyam x fem human reader #avatar neteyam #Na’vi x human #Na’vi x human reader

3K notes · View notes

whumble-beeee · 2 months

Text

Crack Prompt: Welcome to the Whumpee Store!

(aka totally not bbu what do you MEAN)

Whumpees stacked on shelves grocery store-style

Different aisles for different types of whumpee ("No ma'am, this is actually the conditioned aisle, the defiant aisle is on the other side of the store, aisle 9.")

Workers that are TOTALLY not whumpees themselves probably

Or maybe that teenager helping you really is just your average dead-eyed retail worker. Basically the same thing at this point anyway.

"Sir, that's the price for a fresh unaltered whumpee. You can mold them however you want."

"You want me to do YOUR JOB for you?! What kind of establishment is this?!"

On that note, whumpees made to order

You want a medium-sized defiant whumpee that'll start crying and freeze up the second you turn the lights off? Say less.

Tags on the more dainty and dewey-eyed whumpees that say "Torture with Care"

"Mx., you broke the warranty when you threw your whumpee down the stairs. The instructions clearly state they're meant for household chores only, you'll have to pay full price for a new one."

Whumpees in those sealed plastic action figure boxes, forced into a single pose for. however long it takes you to buy them please buy them they're begging you please PLEASE PLEASE THEY CAN'T TAKE--

Whumpees staring hopefully (or fearfully) at every potential customer that walks by.

BARTERING. RIGHT. IN. FRONT. OF. WHUMPEE.

Customers trying to get the conditioned whumpees to crack so they don't have to pay as much for them.

"I'm not sure this whumpee is trained as well as you say, I'm gonna need a demonstration"

Living weapon whumpees locked behind those stupid glass cabinets that you have to get a store attendant to unlock for you if you want to get at one

^Exotic/rare/expensive ones too

Thank you to all my friends on the Whump World server for all your suggestions and enabling me :) I probably have more too, but this was getting long lmao

@whumperofworlds | @randowhump | @kira-the-whump-enthusiast | @whumpninja

#whump #whump promt #crack whump #pet whump #does this count as pet whump?#idk lmao #whump humor #whump prompt

413 notes · View notes

girlgenius1111 · 3 months

Text

shining just for you

alexia + barça & putellas!reader

r only gets worse. alexia gets frustrated. a much needed conversation is attempted.

-----

Your meeting with the trainers at Barça the next day did not go at all how you hoped. They had squashed all of your attempts to suggest faster ways to move your recovery along. They kept saying that there was no way to heal broken bones faster, and when you asked if you had to wait until they were fully healed to get back on the pitch, they looked at you like you'd lost your mind. Maybe you had.

The part that really pissed you off was that they said you could absolutely not bear any weight on your ankle for at least the first month. That meant at least 1 month of crutches, and of staying at Alexia's because you couldn't climb the stairs to your apartment. It seemed ridiculous to you; you had the moon boot on, of course you could walk on it.

It was with this in mind that you exited the medical center, crutching back over to the main training building. You were supposed to go find your sister in the gym and update her on what the physios had said, but you found that you weren't really in the mood. You didn't need to hear her upbeat spin on this. You knew you would cry, and you didn't need to see the disappointed look on her face when she realized how truly weak you really were.

This was all so idiotic. Your ankle didn't even hurt that much. How bad could the break be, really? You'd seen the x-rays, sure, but it hadn't look that bad. It was a true testament to how little you cared for your body at this point, as you dropped your crutches inside the locker room, and began pacing the hallway just outside. No one was around to see, which you were glad for, because they'd stop you.

You had a point to prove, though. Even as each step was excruciating, you pushed on, pacing until you felt like you were going to throw up from the pain. It made you dizzy, and you leaned against the wall, sliding down it to sit. You were in the middle of the hall, your crutches 10 meters away. Your head spun, your ankle killed, and you felt a moment of clarity.

What were you doing? This, of all things, was not going to speed up the healing process. Were you really so unbelievably stupid to walk on a completely broken ankle, just because you weren't willing to accept 4 months off the pitch?

You felt completely worthless. You couldn't even be injured right. And now, you would have to wait here for your teammates to return from training, until they would find you, face pale and tearstained. You couldn't get up without help. You desperately tried to think of an excuse, some reason that you would be in the middle of the hall without your crutches.

Before one could come to you, though, you heard your name shouted from the direction of the gym. It was the last person you wanted to hear from, last person you wanted to see. At the same time, a part of you pleaded with yourself to allow you to fall into your sister's arms, let her hold you together when you couldn't do it yourself.

You'd done that last night. It hadn't made you feel better. So, instead, you looked up to meet the shocked face of your sister, a defiant look etching itself across your features. When in doubt, anger seemed to be the way you went.

"What the hell are you doing?" Alexia asked, crouching down in front of you. She reached a hand out, feeling your face, which you knew must be hot. Your whole body felt like it was on fire, your foot and ankle most of all.

"I was just walking." You said shortly.

Alexia's eyebrows raised. "Just walking? Without your crutches? Did the doctor tell you that was okay?"

You looked away from her, clenching your jaw tight.

"Hey! Did the doctor tell you that was okay?" Alexia repeated, forcing you to look back at her.

"No." You admitted, knowing Alexia would check either way.

Alexia' face grew very red, and she opened her mouth to start talking several times, before she shook her head, and stalked off to the locker room. She returned shortly after with your crutches, wordlessly handing them out to you.

"We're going home." She said. You allowed her to help you to your feet, waiting until you were standing to argue.

"No, Ale you have training, I can-"

"No. You can't just wait for me, clearly. You aren't responsible enough for me to leave you on your own while you have a broken ankle. I don't know what you're thinking, I don't know what is going on with you right now, but you need to cut it out and pull it together. This is not how I taught you to act. Acting like you know better than the doctors and the physios, doing whatever the hell you want."

Alexia was seething, clearly. Completely and totally furious with you. And even though you knew she was right, you couldn't help but feel a surge of anger inside of yourself. You were just trying to be what she asked of you, and now she was mad at you for it?

"Alexia, I don't need a fucking lecture from you right now. Just go back to training, I'll wait in the locker room."

"Do not walk away from me." Alexia scowled, grabbing your wrist to stop you. "Are you really so ungrateful of everything I've done for you, that you're willing to throw it all away by completely fucking your ankle? Because 4 months seems like a long time to be away from the pitch? It's time to grow up. An injury is not the end of the world, and you have to stop moping around and trying to find the easy way out of this."

"Oh right, because you didn't do any moping when you did your ACL. Yeah, Alexia, you were the picture of strength and stability then, weren't you?" You sneered, wrenching your hand out of her grip.

Alexia clenched her hands into fists, and released them, as if she was trying to calm herself down. "You are so immature," She started, taking a step closer to you.

"Hey!" Irene shouted from down the hall. The team was filtering in from training, and a bunch of the younger players had stopped dead in their tracks, watching the argument unfold. Irene and Marta pushed their way through, stepping in between the two of you.

"Alexia, walk away." Marta instructed.

"She was-"

"-Deal with it later. Walk away now, before you say something you regret." Marta interrupted, guiding Alexia back to the gym she'd come from.

It was too late. Both of you had already said things you now regretted. Alexia was angry, as she walked away. But you were devastated, beyond words. It was like Alexia had agreed with every awful thought you had about yourself. It wasn't intentional from her, she was just upset that you were so careless with yourself. She hadn't meant any of it, just like she knew you hadn't meant what you said to her.

Irene watched carefully as you leaned backwards against the wall, lip wobbling dangerously. "Come on, pequeña. Let's go somewhere else."

"I want to go home." You mumbled, shrugging out from under Irene's hand. You were practically shaking at the effort it was taking you not to fall apart completely.

"Your sister drove you?” Irene asked. You nodded, jaw tightening. "Okay, go wait in the car. Ale will come take you home when she's calmer."

You didn't have much choice, so you nodded, crutching down the hall, away from your onlooking teammates, past where Alexia stood, talking in hushed tones with Marta, out the door and into the car.

You didn't want to go home, not really. Not to your apartment, or to Alexia's. Not even to your mom's house. You didn't want to do anything, or be anywhere. You were so exhausted, so hurt. You just wanted it all to stop.

You were strong, you reminded yourself. You were strong enough not to break. You made it to the car, slumping into the passenger seat and allowing yourself to take a few ragged breaths. You were fine. Everything was fine. You just needed to get home, and into bed, where you could cry and no one would hear.

Alexia joined you in the car 10 minutes later, but the way she threw the car in reverse and backed out of the spot without so much as a glance towards you told you that she was still mad. Well, so were you.

-----

Alexia helped you in through the front door, holding tight to the back of your shirt as you crutched inside, like you were going to somehow run away from her.

"What happened?" Olga asked, taking in the stormy expressions on both you and your sister's faces.

"Pequeña thinks she knows better than the doctors, and decided to dump her crutches and walk without them." Alexia said shortly, all but shoving you down onto the couch. "Stay there." She directed, stomping off into the kitchen to get you some ice.

Olga watched her go, before slowly turning to you. She walked over to the couch, where you were sitting, glaring at the table in front of you. Inspecting you closely, Olga sighed deeply, before speaking.

"She said something, didn't she? Something she shouldn't have?" That was the only logical explanation Olga could reach; under Alexia's fury, her girlfriend knew she felt guilty. And the look on your face, one also of anger, was hiding how upset you really were.

You didn't answer her, but your arms crossed over your chest, and you blinked rapidly, clearly fighting off tears. Olga pulled out her phone, shooting off a text, before rising to intercept Alexia as she re entered the living room. Olga steered her into the chair opposite you, taking the ice pack and handing it to you.

"Your mom is going to call in a few minutes, alright? And whatever is going on here, you're going to figure it out."

"Alba's coming to get me. I'm going to stay with her." You said quietly, picking at your nails to avoid looking at your sister. She looked absolutely crestfallen. Then, her expression tightened, and her defensive exterior returned.

"You are not going anywhere. Tell Alba to turn around and go home."

"No. I can go where I want." You seethed, finally looking up at her. She was surprised by the fire in your eyes, the anger practically radiating off of you. Alexia opened her mouth, prepared to respond, but Olga stepped in between the two of you, once again cooling the incoming conflict.

"Alexia, go take a walk."

Alexia was really tired of people telling her to take a walk. She wanted to deal with this, now. She wanted to take you by the shoulders and shake you, beg you to tell her why you were so upset.

"No, I-"

"Go. While you're gone, your sister is going to talk to your mom, and then you two can sit down and have a conversation like adults. Nena, tell Alba not to come yet. If you still want to leave after dinner, fine, but don't make a rash decision when you're already upset."

You both respected Olga too much to really argue with her. Alexia marched out the door, barely stopping to get her keys, while you begrudgingly pulled your phone out, texting Alba. Once you'd done that, the phone rang in your hands, and you answered, the soothing, comforting voice of your mother filling your ears.

-----

When Alexia came back 20 minutes later, she was much calmer, and prepared to apologize to you, even if it felt like she was ripping one of her limbs off every time she had to tell you she was sorry about something.

You were calmer too, sitting on the couch and talking quietly with your mom. You didn't look at Alexia when she walked in, but you didn't tell her to go away, either, even when she came and sat on the couch next to you.

"Ale's here." You said, turning on speaker phone.

"Alexia Putellas Segura." Her mother's scolding made her flinch, even over the phone. "You be nice to your sister, and you stop pushing her so hard before she breaks."

The first part made sense to her. The second, not so much. She was TRYING to get you to slow down, and listen to the doctors. How was that pushing you? The way you flushed red, and looked away from her only confused Alexia more. She didn't quite feel like arguing with her mother, though, not after the day she'd had.

"Okay, mom." Alexia promised, looking pointedly at you.

"And y/n. You listen to your sister. And you start taking care of yourself. No one will love you any less if you heal in 4 months, or 6 months, or a year. Don't you make me fly back there."

The funny thing was, you hadn't even told your mom what was going on with you. She just knew, from only a few minutes talking to you, what was wrong, and exactly what you needed to hear. You didn't really need to hear it from her, though; you needed your sister to say it, more than anything. At the same time, you'd never admit that.

"Okay mom." You said, echoing your sister's previous words.

With that, she warned you both to behave, before hanging up.

Alexia poked you in the side, having grown very tired of fighting with you. "She's right. You should listen to me. You'll only need more than 4 months if I break your other ankle, though."

Her attempt at making a joke fell flat, and she watched you tense up next to her. Until that point, she thought that what her mother had said to you was common sense; of course they'd love you if you didn't heal fast. Why would you possibly think otherwise. Alexia was starting to notice, though, that whenever the time frame of your injury was brought up, you looked like you were going to be sick. She opened her mouth, prepared to call you on it, when Olga cleared her throat from the doorway.

"It's Alba, and it's for you." She said, holding the phone out towards Alexia. With one last look in your direction, the blonde rose, grabbing the phone out of her girlfriends hand, instructing her to keep an eye on you, and heading into the bedroom.

"Are you the biggest idiot in the world?" Alba chided, a rather unusual tone of voice for the normally very silly sister to be taking.

"Hi, Alba. I'm fine, thank you for asking."

"Cut the shit, Alexia, seriously. What were you thinking?"

"It would make this phone call so much more fun if you would explain what the hell you're talking about." Alexia threw back, flopping down onto her bed. Honestly, the pair of you. She wished her mother was in town so she didn't have to deal with you both every second of every day.

"Calling our sister irresponsible and ungrateful? Do you not see how much she's struggling?"

Alexia scowled, annoyed that you told on her. "She was being an idiot. And I am not blind, I know she's having a hard time. I'm trying to help, but she won't let me."

"How are you trying to help?" Alba asked, softening just slightly at the frustration in her older sister's tone.

"I keep telling her she'll be back in no time, that 4 months is not a concrete timeframe, and that she's strong. I know she can do it, and she knows too. I don't understand what's wrong with her."

"Alexia." Alba sighed. "Everything you just said is horrible. Not at all what she needs to hear from you right now."

"How?! I'm being encouraging."

"No, you're putting even more pressure on her."

"Why does everyone keep saying that? I don't put pressure on her, definitely not more than she can take."

"Ale, she's not taking it. She's falling apart."

"Oh, and that's my fault? If she has a problem, she should communicate it to me like an adult. I'm tired of her acting like a child." Alexia wasn't mad at you, not really. She was angry with herself, for not seeing whatever was going on sooner. For making you so upset with her. She used to fight the other kids when they made you cry, and now she was the reason you were valiantly fighting back tears, and she didn't even know why.

Alba spoke up then, after a moment of silence. "You need to talk to her. You're not going to listen to me. I hope you listen to her. And, Ale? She's only 20. She's doing her best, cut her some slack."

Alba hung up before Alexia could respond. She groaned, tossing her phone off the bed, before walking back out towards the living room. She froze, hearing you talking to her girlfriend through tears.

"I can't Olga, she'd be so disappointed in me."

"No, pequeña, she won't. I know you feel like she cares more about your football than you, but I promise, cariño, that is not true. She doesn't know you feel this way, and she needs to. So she can prove to you that you're wrong."

"What if I'm not wrong? What if she hates me?" You cried.

Alexia couldn't hold herself back any longer, practically falling into the room with how fast she moved to get to you. She didn't try to pretend she hadn't been eavesdropping. She simply took the seat Olga stood from, sitting down carefully next to you.

You looked up at her, a horrified look on your face at the realization that she'd heard everything you'd just said.

"Talk to me, nena. Please." Alexia was practically begging you.

The conflict was clear on your face; Alexia watched as you debated whether to shake her off and leave the room, or to finally tell her what was going on. It was breaking her heart, that you didn't immediately trust her. She knew she'd messed up today, but whatever was going on clearly ran so much deeper; she must have messed up a long, long time ago.

When you opened your mouth to answer her, Alexia wasn't sure if your words would fracture the relationship further, a relationship that was already sitting precariously, even if she hadn't noticed it, or if you were going to let her in. You weren't quite sure either.

-----

feeling CRUEL today. it is Friday though, so if everyone is extra nice to me, MAYBE you'll get part 3 later tonight. Maybe.

477 notes · View notes

pizzaapeteer · 15 days

Text

Feeling Blue(y)

Fluffy blurb with Theodore Nott Warnings: one use of y/n

Based off this sweet request from @marriinachoo: something where you're dating theo and he like makes fun of you for watching bluey but one time you fall asleep while watching and when you wake up he's next to you still watching and crying.

a/n: For anyone who doesn't know what Bluey is, it's a kid's show about an Australian blue heeler puppy. As well as the episode this was based off can be watched here if you want hehe

The familiar baby blue title page of Bluey flashes on the screen, as the classic Australian blue heeler and her family sing the theme song. It’s only moments later, when Theo returns from the bathroom, filling the room with an unsatisfied groan.

“Oh, come on, nuh uh, that’s literally a show for children, y/n.” Theo sighs, rubbing his face at your silly suggestion, joining you back on the bed in his dorm room.

You roll your eyes at Theo, frowning at his protest, “We just watched three episodes of your creepy ass show. No way I can sleep now after that at 1 am. We’re watching at least one episode of Bluey.” Your voice holds a strong, defiant sternness. No way are you about to budge on this.

Leaning back to snuggle further into Theo’s side, hoping to gain some comfort from him and Bluey as the episode began. You’d find yourself in this position far too often, always ending up being convinced to watch scary entertainment so late. It was pretty impossible to say no to Theo’s sweet begging face, and so here you were again with thoughts of extremely inhuman things in your mind. Though you’d found a pretty successful way of making sure those thoughts didn’t linger into nightmares.

Theo huffs defeatedly, slightly mumbling to himself, “This is so stupid," which you don’t see fully engaged with the show. He wasn’t happy about wasting his time spent watching a kid’s show, having escaped enduring it so far. Despite his slightly annoyed presence, he continues to embrace you, wrapping his arm, bringing you close to his side. His eyes fall to you adoring the sweet content expression, his hand resting on your head, running his fingers through your hair.

The smooth lulling of Theo’s fingers massaging your head softly seeps a feeling of solace from you. The episode Butterfly is one of your favourites, though the late hours of the night seem to have finally hit you and before you know it you’re drifting off to sleep, head dropping onto Theo’s shoulder.

The newly added weight of your head on his shoulder grabs Theo’s attention and he smiles faintly, his hand continuing patting you gently. He doesn’t dare move and finds himself with no choice but to endure watching the show. The sweet voice of Bingo singing her bug song makes Theo’s brows raise, finding it surprisingly utterly adorable.

As the show reaches its turning point, revealing a problem of Bingo being excluded from playing, Theo sits up slightly interested in finding out what will happen. Theo’s movement stirs you slightly before you fully reawaken by the sound of a quiet sniffle. Opening your eyes, you're greeted with melancholy singing from Bingo, repeating her once happy “bug on the wall song”. Lifting your head, you tilt, noticing Theo's deep blue irises filled with tears.

You sit up fully, with Theo now taking notice of your awakened state, wiping his eyes quickly, trying to hide his emotions. You smile softly at him, giggling at how caught up in the kid’s show he had gotten. “Getting emotional there Teddy?” You tease, gently rubbing his arm.

Realising he's already caught in the act, he looks over at you, trying to explain, “Oh shut up, those fuckers ditched Bingo! What absolute assholes.” He grumbles, irritated, crossing his arms now frustrated with how Bluey and Judo had ditched Bingo because she was younger. The two sisters are seen making up in the background now as they re-sing the bug song.

You break into a fit of laughter covering your mouth to avoid being too loud, not being able to take Theo seriously. You couldn’t get over how he actually had gotten interested in the so-called ‘silly kid’s show’. You rub his arm more affectionately, “They’re just kids, Theo, and look, they’re resolving the problem now. Everyone’s happy.”

You snuggle back into him as the episode ends with the two sisters and the friend playing happily together. Theo gives you a small smile, rolling his eyes playfully as you tease him about engaing. You grin as the next episode is suggested, giggling at him. “Another one?”

Bonus:

You catch Theo humming the tune “Poor little bug on the wall” throughout the next week.

As well as describing the plot lines to his friends, pretending they’re chaotic stories finding amusement in their reactions, not knowing it's a kids' show.

masterlist

#theodore nott #theo nott #theo nott fluff #theo nott blurb #super cute request #eeeeeeh i love bluey #slytherin boys

287 notes · View notes