Reader Is So Me With Flip?

reader is so me with flip?

"sobbing in my cup of coffee,

ㅤㅤㅤ'cause i fell for another loser."ᝰ r.c.

in my feelings. - lana del rey

⊹₊⋆ synopsis: "just another one of those shitty pogues" he said...

⊹₊⋆ pairing: pogue!waitress!female!reader x toxic!rafe

⊹₊⋆ word count: 1.2k

⊹₊⋆ contents: slight "enemies to lovers" (ish), a few sexual themes, obvious tension, rafe being a potential sweetheart / hopeless romantic ( finally locked the fuck back in and started writing again! )

nervousness; the single emotion which had never graced the dynamic psyche of rafe cameron.

he often flipped through the long list in his mind during the long nights he’d lay sleepless in his bed.

anger? check. regret? absolutely. extreme and often irrational hatred toward pogues? without a doubt.

it was no secret that if he viewed someone like scum, he would sure as hell treat them like it. it was safe to say that there probably wasn’t a single pogue left in the outer banks who hadn’t gotten shit from him in one way or another. however, you were the painfully obvious outlier…

you were never an unfamiliar subject for him. you’d gotten along well with his sister, been in his father’s good graces, and were just pretty enough to earn yourself an unofficial spot in the country club. to him, you were just about the furthest thing from a pogue he’d ever seen, but your clean white converse sneakers and designer denim shorts didn’t make you any more valid in his eyes.

he’d had it in him to give you a piece of his mind long ago. to tell you to go back to your side of the island, treat you like the dirt he thought your kind was, and maybe even give you a good beating once the sun had gone down. no matter how much that pretty face of yours sent his heart to cloud nine, he hated your guts more than any other pogue on the planet. or at least, he wanted to.

but you were the one girl on the planet who smoothed out his jagged edges.

as you swiftly travelled through the cafe, a tray in your hand as you dashed to deliver miscellaneous foods, drinks, and desserts to various tables, rafe’s eyes intently followed your every move, like a timid predator watching a particularly elusive prey.

this little routine of his went as follows: him and two of his hot-headed friends would just-so-happen to stumble into the exact cafe you worked at on the exact day at the exact time and take a seat at the concealed booth at the back, he’d feign oblivious offence when you begrudgingly took his order, and spectate you for the rest of the night, not even daring to blink in fear of missing the many times your skirt would ride up your exemplary figure, revealing just enough of your thighs to make his gut churn.

kelce whistles lowly as his eyes follow you from across the cafe, painfully less subtle than ideal. “man… that ass sure is somethin’ special, i’ll tell you that much.” he mutters under his breath with a laugh, elbowing rafe in the side.

however, the laugh quickly diminishes as rafe shoots a razor-sharp glare that could cut diamonds, his voice dropping an octave as he takes his friend’s shirt by the collar and whispers in his ear.

“listen to me, and listen good. i didn’t bring you over here to gawk at my woman, you hear? utter another word about her, and i’ll skin you.”

unlike most of his words, this threat was far from empty. the possessiveness in his voice was almost laughable, especially considering the fact that the only time you even looked in his direction was when you served him a drink. his obsession with you had started when you were both young, two kids who would stupidly practice kissing each other and share tight, fearful hugs in the darkness of his bedroom whenever a storm would break.

but like everything in life, it all had to go sour eventually. he began to care too much about his image and status in society while you still wanted to spend long nights with him surfing on the waves. the differences between you two only became more prominent from that point forward.

you were too emotional, he was too apathetic. he became an asshole, you became a bitch. you were saving yourself for marriage, and he considered a girl a prude if she denied him a blowjob on the first date. it was no wonder the hatred between the two of you was so strong.

but despite this, business was business. and if you wanted to collect your paycheck at the end of the month, you’d have to serve the elephant in the corner of the room sooner or later.

“hot coffee, no cream, no sugar.” you mutter flatly, reciting the same item he’s ordered every night for the past 6 months. you take the hot mug off your tray and set it down in front of the blonde, his eyes locked on your unamused expression.

you were even prettier up close.

the thought passed through his mind as his gaze travelled from your bright eyes to your perfect lips, going further until they reached the forbidden territory that hid under your skimpy apron.

“that’ll be $9.99.” you say sternly, snapping his gaze away from your chest, cursing yourself for not choosing less-revealing attire.

rafe’s eyes narrowed as they rose back to your eyes, his expression conforming to a scowl. “what? a black coffee is only five dollars!”

you rolled your eyes with a scoff. “being a perv costs extra. that’s the price of not having any goddamn decency.”

you knew how to rile him up, and that was by threatening his money. normally, he’d beat the tar out of any organism that even thought of squandering money from him, but you could barely fight the smirk that tugged at your lips as he attempted to sputter out a protestant response. naturally, he couldn’t say a word with you looking down at him like that, smiling ever so slightly at the conniption he began to have.

he tutted with disapproval, shaking his head as he dug into the pocket of his designer denim jeans, pulling out his leather wallet. he fished his fingers into the largest compartment, pulling out a fresh, uncreased twenty-dollar bill. he slammed it on the table, pushing it toward you and mumbling with defiant defeat.

“...keep the fuckin’ change.”

a smile lit up your face as you accepted the bill, stuffing it into your bra just so you could watch his cheeks flush once more.

you smiled sweetly as you picked up your tray from the table, speaking to the boys in a faux-submissive tone.

“if anything is not to your liking, you know who to call.”

with that, you sauntered away, leaving rafe to stare at you from behind as he sulked, his elbow resting on the table as he stared into his reflection in the dark pool of liquid that sat in front of him. “...nothing but a shitty pogue, is what she is…”

he muttered to himself, hating how much he kind of liked it when you bitched at him. he wanted to shout at you and kiss you and shut you up as he drowned you in the love that he had concealed from you for all these years. if he truly wanted to, he could’ve even followed you behind the counter and finally recite the confessional speech he had been practicing for months.

but instead, he huffed quietly, looking back at the loser who stared right back at him in his cup of coffee.

𝐌𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝟏𝟔𝟏𝟎 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: a couple of days ago, you found a strange blondie in his room. it's time to act decisively.

ᴛᴡ: porn, age up, obscene language, cunnilingus, Internal misogyny, fem!reader

(English isn't my first language, sorry for any mistakes)

Enjoy 💌

───♡─────────────

A couple of paint cans fell to the floor with a thud, drowning out the quiet moans. You insistently pulled Miles closer, wrapping your legs around his hips as his warm hands reverently stroked the curve of your waist.

“Do you like my figure that much?” you giggled as Miles gently squeezed the skin on your side.

"I'm studying the texture for authenticity," his embarrassed murmur touched your lips, parted from lack of air.

You two didn't expect the evening to turn out like this. Actually, Miles did not expect it when he invited you to be a sitter for his graduation work at art school. For you, on the other hand, it was a long-awaited chance. From the first time you met, you knew you had to have him for herself. While their classmates saw him as some silly nerd, there was nothing sexier for you than his craving for quantum physics and drawing.

In fact, you didn't really want to rush things between you, after all, you had only become friends a couple of months ago. But recently you found a girl in Miles's room and decided that it was impossible to delay. You had no idea who that blondie was, but she managed to shake your confidence. You had to hope Miles didn't have a type. You obviously couldn't call herself ugly, on the contrary, your parents' money was doing its job: a couple of years of wearing braces, expensive cosmetologists and hairdressers, and by graduation you could be confused with someone from the Kardashian family. The problem was, you didn't look alike that blondie at all.

You had well-groomed and neatly styled hair when that girl had a hairstyle that was done by either a self-taught punk or an autistic blind man. She dressed in a similar style also. What could Miles possibly see in her?

Anyway, it didn't matter at the moment, because right now his head was between your legs.

The cold and thick paint that you had spilled on the table slowly flowed down your leg. With a quick movement, Miles pulled off your underwear and smeared a purple stain on the back of your thigh. You took a deep breath and gripped the edge of the table. Your whole body was trembling slightly from overexcitation and excess of emotions.

A slight bite on the inside of your thigh sent a shiver down your spine, forcing you to spread your legs wider. You would never have thought that seeing his charming face between your legs could be the most satisfying part of the process.

"You didn't tell me about it."

You arched her back in a sudden burst of pleasure. Trying to calm you accelerated breathing, you swallowed, looking down. With an innocent expression on his face, Miles clamped the curved piercing bar between his teeth. Every little breath he took sent a wave of goosebumps through your body.

"You didn't show much interest in my holes before," you smiled, possessively throwing your legs over his shoulders.

Blushing slightly, Miles looked down again and wrapped his arms around your waist, holding you still. His hot tongue slowly slid along your wet folds, gently pushing them apart and deliberately brushing against the cold metal of the jewelry. You threw your head back, breathing heavily. You could have finish just from the look of his deer eyes innocently looking up at you.

"You're gonna kill me," you muttered, trying to grab onto something to keep from falling off the table under the pressure of the sensations delivered by his soft mouth. In the end, you ran your hand through his soft curls, pulling him as close as you could.

Miles moaned softly, lightly squeezing your butt, his tongue teasingly penetrating inside you as he leaned slightly towards your gentle hand in his hair.

"I think you're trying to strangle me right now," Miles chuckled. His cheeks were slightly squeezed by your thighs, making the whole picture even more adorable.

Feeling the sweet warmth in your lower abdomen, you pulled Miles even closer, moving your hips towards his mouth, rubbing yourself against his face.

Suddenly, he pinned you against the table, holding you by the waist. Unable to move, you threw her head back, feeling even more aroused. Finally, Miles's plump lips found your clit, sucking lightly on it.

He pulled back your piercing with his teeth once again, hard enough to make you gasp in surprise, but not hard enough to cause real pain.

It was too much for you. Just a couple of movements made you shudder and arch back from orgasm, throwing even more things off the table.

With a soft moan, Miles pressed his mouth to your pussy, prolonging your pleasure with a couple of movements of his tongue along your swollen and wet with excitement folds.

You involuntarily pinched his head between your thighs so that he had to forcibly spread your legs apart.

“Have you invited many people to “pose" like that?” you murmured with a note of jealousy and gratitude in voice. Your chest was heaving convulsively from the lack of air in lungs.

“No one,” Miles's cheeks turned an embarrassed blush as he tried to catch his breath, beads of sweat glistened on his forehead. He sat down on the table and looked at your naked body. Awkwardly reaching out, Miles smeared drops of paint on your collarbone, tracing a red line from your chest to hip while admiring your curves.

“Who was that blondie in your room the other day?” you blurted out, not caring how harsh your question sounded, especially after what he had just done to you.

Miles's eyes widened slightly at the unexpected question.

“Do you really want to talk about her at the moment?” He chuckled slightly. “Don't worry, I didn't do those things to her.”

───♡─────────────

hope I won't get cursed or wished to die for this (´꒳`)♡

596 notes View Post

ermwhatthesigma

10 months ago

And that’s facts

clarke griffin really is the character ever. she pulls a lot of levers. only one person she's slept with hasn't died. she adopted a six-year-old when she was still a teenager. she had her first drink out of spite. she killed a panther by herself. her daughter has the memories of the dead love of her life. she's as homicidal as she is suicidal. she was in solitary confinement for almost an entire year. she learned mandarin and motorcycle riding because she stole it out of someone else's head. she decorated her prison cell with charcoal etches. she's been caked in mud and foam. no one ever taught her how to swim. if she cares about you, she might hum when she kills you. we only see her shower once in her life. she medically experimented on herself. she's been body snatched. everything her culture was based on turned out to be very, very incorrect. she was arrested for treason against her people and then does nothing but ensure the survival of her people for the rest of her life. she's eaten bugs. and she's bisexual

Capture the Flag

luke castellan x reader

pt 2

A/N: now that i'm writing for other fandoms, feel free to let me know if you only want to be on a hotd taglist. But now, please enjoy the strongest swordsman in camp halfblood

TW: MAJOR SMUT, slight bondage, rough smut, violence, lowkey dark(ish)!luke

word count: 1,699 words

You want Luke Castellan’s head speared on your sword.

It’s like you spend every minute preparing for capture the flag because of him. He spends every last minute of each game cutting down your teammates and stealing your flag, so now it’s time to change the tactic. You ditch your father’s usual battle advice of going for the kill and hope that defence is the best offence for once. You also pray that he will guide your sword anyhow. So there you stand, guarding your flag with two of your most vicious teammates. You dodge the blue team’s first attack that was supposed to draw you off. You may have a short temper but you aren’t stupid. And you’re more than pleased to see the look of surprise on Luke’s face as he approaches.

“Fucking Ares kids.” He grumbles, sword drawn.

“Were you not expecting me, Castellan?” You ask with a vengeful smirk.

He goes right for you. You’re the biggest threat there but he likes to think you’re not even close to his skill level. You would believe that the man plans to cut you down and then your teammates. He always aims for the glory of it all.

“How’s your team gonna get our flag if you’re here?” He asks as he makes the first swing. It’s much better to start off on offence and he’s the one coming at you.

“Who cares. When you’re done, so is your team.” You block him, hating to be on defence but he’s too quick.

“Gods, you didn’t plan ahead of that? There really isn’t anything in that pretty little head of yours, is there? Other than rage of course.”

You’re a hothead. He knows it. You know it and it doesn’t take much to rile you up. When you’re riled up, you get sloppy. At this point, you don’t care if he guts you, you go for the little fucker’s ankles. You’re actually surprised when he stumbles from blocking your attack. It’s a stupid mistake, especially for him. Though, you aren’t going to let a chance like this slip by. You keep pushing him back, trying to leave him no chance to think in between swings. He trips over a log behind him, the sword falling from his hand. He has no chance now, not on the ground and you won’t be letting him get up.

“Who’s the idiot now?”

He looks at you as you approach slowly, taunting him. He then grabs his sword and makes a break for it. You’re too shocked to even keep him down.

What the fuck.

You don’t think you’ve ever seen Luke Castellan run from a fight. Not in your 4 years at camp. So you chase after him.

He’s fast, faster than you but you push yourself. He trails away… and away. Then you lose him.

“Godsdamnit!” You scream into the woods as you jog around where you last saw him.

You know you can’t stray for long if you’re not fighting Luke so you turn to make your way back to the flag. That’s when he jumps out at you with his sword swinging. You barely have time to block and it puts you off your balance. He swings at you again and again. You fall as you continue to block the merciless strikes. You’re practically holding your sword in the air and hoping for the best. The best doesn’t come as the weapon flies from your hand. He descends on you, straddling your waist as he holds the blade to your throat. He’s smirking.

“You don’t try nearly hard enough.” He says to you. “I know you’re not very clever but hades, my teammates probably already have the flag over the barrier.”

That’s when you realize how easily you were deceived. Luke didn’t run from you because you bested him; he ran to draw you off. It was a pathetically simple plan and it worked. The heat rises to your cheeks from humiliation. He grabs your two hands and pins them above your head, his grip gentle but also firm.

“I’ll put you in your grave.” You spit out at him.

“Will you now? While I have you essentially restrained?” He’s clearly amused.

You struggle beneath him with all your force but all you manage to do is roll your hips against him, earning a groan from the man. You feel it too, the burning ache between your thighs. You want him. Worse yet, he wants you.

“Let me up.”

“No. I think you quite like how I have you pinned to the ground.” He smirks.

“You’re delusional.”

“You’re wet.”

He slips a knee between your thighs and rubs it against your clothed pussy. It takes everything in you not to whimper.

“S-Stop.” You stutter out.

“Make me.” He murmurs, continuing to make you grind down on his knee as he leans down and forces you into a hot kiss. You hate how you kiss back, so hungry for him. Your mind is clouded with lust for a moment before you realize the advantage he is giving you. You never technically conceded.

As swiftly as you can, you wrap your free leg around his waist and use your whole strength to throw him off you, startling him enough to free your hands.

“You bitch.” He groans as you jab him in the stomach to try and give yourself enough time to grab your sword but it doesn’t work. He grabs you by the ankle and yanks hard. You slam to the ground right on your stomach. He moves to restrain you by sitting on your thighs so you can’t move your legs and holds your hands behind your back. You clearly didn’t consider how inevitably stronger he is than you.

“Shit.” You whine. His hold isn’t nearly as gentle this time.

“That was a cheap fucking shot.” He says cruelly. He’s pissed now.

“Fuck you. Castellan!” Gods it goes straight to his dick when you call him by his last name. He grips your hair with his free hand and pulls back hard so you have to look at him. You whine again at the sharp pain.

“You just can’t play fair, can you, princess? Maybe I won’t either then.”

He drops your head and you hear him rustling with something. You realize it’s his belt when you feel the leather against your wrists. He’s binding you.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Your voice is full of rage but to him, you just sound petulant.

“What you need.” Is his simple answer.

He shifts down so he sits, or rather kneels, with your legs between his. He’s amused by your renewed writhing as an attempt to escape. It is pitiful really. Oh well, he’ll have you writhing for a different reason soon enough.

His fingertips glide across your waist, to your hips and then to your thighs, causing your back to arch upwards slightly, your stomach dipping. He brings his lips down to your ear, his voice is deep and lustful as he says, “Your body seems to know what it wants.”

“I’ll kill you.” You promise.

“Oh, i’m sure you will. But right now, you fucking belong to me.” He yanks on your hair again so you have to look at him and your eyes water from the pain. “I think you like me hurting you.” His other hand slips between your thighs to rub your clit and you let out a strangled moan. “For a girl who is so controlling, it’s interesting how badly you enjoy me manhandling you.”

He yanks your pants down and slips your helmet under your hips so your ass stays high in the air with your chest to the ground.

“This is fucked up.” You say.

“You love it. Your panties are soaked.” And he’s completely right. You’ve never been so turned on before but not a lot of men are as strong and good-looking as Luke Castellan.

He pulls your panties down and groans at the sight of your dripping pussy. He begins to palm himself through his pants and unzips them. “You have about three seconds to tell me if you don’t actually want this.”

You are silent and he chuckles. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

Before you can even prepare yourself or form a thought, his fat cock is shoved inside of you, splitting you open.

“Ah, Luke!” You moan at the pain and pleasure.

“Gods, this is the tightest little pussy i’ve had.” He begins to fuck in and out of you relentlessly, giving you no time to adjust. “Yeah, you’re good for me now, baby. Such a good little cocksleeve.” He punctuates his last words with hard thrusts, the head of his cock bullying into you each time.

All you can do is repeat his name like a mantra as you get pounded on the forest floor by the strongest swordsman in camp. It’s even worse as he begins to rub your clit again, sending you so close to the edge.

“Never gonna have enough of you after this.” Luke murmurs as he feels you squeezing around him. “My good girl.”

That’s what sends you tumbling over the edge, bringing Luke with you as you do. He never could’ve kept going, not with the way your walls were squeezing around him. He pulls out almost instantly so he can watch his cum spill out of you. He doesn’t wipe it. He just pulls your panties back on and fixes the both of you up. You’re thoroughly spent, he can tell by the way you pant as he releases your wrists.

“You okay?” He asks as he helps you sit up. He grabs your hands so he can kiss the marks on your wrists. After all you’ve done, that’s the act that makes you blush furiously.

“Um, yeah.” You breathe out.

“I’ll be nicer next time, I promise. Somebody just had to put you in your place first.” He grins wolfishly.

“Next time?”

That’s when you hear the horn. The blue team has won again.

He pecks a kiss to your cheek. “Time to claim my kleos.” He says cockily before jogging off to meet his team.

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