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rafeandonlyrafe · 1 month

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under the covers

words: 1.3k

warnings: 18+ only, smut, p in v sex, caught, drunk/tipsy sex, unprotected sex

you’re trying to hold in your giggles as rafe pulls you inside, his large hands swallowing your waist, fingers tucking into the small sliver of space between your shorts and shirt to touch your bare skin.

“shh.” rafe tries to quiet you, but he’s smiling too, letting out a small laugh before pressing your lips together in a kiss to hopefully keep both of you quiet.

“c’mon.” you whisper against rafes lips. “take me upstairs.”

“yeah, yeah.” rafe nods, hand wrapping around yours. he looks quickly around the corner before tugging you towards the stairs, making your way up as quickly and quietly as you possibly can.

“get in, get in.” rafe whispers as he opens the door to his room. you rush inside, glad that you made it up to his bedroom without being caught, both a little tipsy but not drunk enough to not care about getting caught by rafes family.

you wrap your arms around rafes shoulders as he effortlessly picks you up, carrying you towards his bed, his hands gripping your ass.

“i love this dress.” rafe says when he sits you down, flipping up the bottom of your skirt as you let out a squeal at your underwear being exposed. “shh!” rafe reminds you to be quiet, but his worried face just makes you giggle, hoping the walls are soundproof despite the house being old.

“take your shirt off.” you tell rafe as you reach behind your back to undo the corset-style ties holding your dress tight to your body.

you manage to wiggle out of your dress while rafe unbuttons his shirt, tossing it away to reveal his muscles. you swear every time you see him shirtless he gets more attractive, your hands reaching out to run over his torso, laughing quietly as you poke his nipple.

“stop it, silly girl.” rafe shoves your hands away.��

“let me play with them.” you try to reach up to his chest again. “let me play with them then you can play with mine.”

“fine, for like a second though.” rafe will always indulge you if it gives him the opportunity to play with your tits.

you reach up, thumbs running over his nipples, pulling your lower lip between your face in concentration.

rafe lets out a quiet moan, his eyes squeezing closed when you flick over the buds. “holy shit, you like this.” you state when you realize that rafes cock is pushing against the fabric of his pants, having hardened quicker than normal.

“shut up.” rafe groans, knowing now that you realize how sensitive his nipples are that you’re never going to leave them alone. “take your bra off.”

“mmm, fine.” you hum, rubbing the pad over your fingers over his nipples one more time before reaching behind your back, tugging your bra off and tossing it away, adding it to the pile of clothes on the floor.

“such pretty tits, baby.” rafe coos, reaching down to cup your chest, his large palms easily holding your heavy breasts.

“gonna come suck on them?” you ask, knowing how much rafe loves to get his mouth on you.

“yeah, lay back.” rafe cocks his head towards the top of the bed, and you quickly scurry to lay yourself against the pillows, adjusting them slightly as rafe tugs his pants off so hes just in his underwear like you are, feeling a bit of relief now that he’s not straining against his zipper.

rafe crawls over your body, pressing his cock into your thigh as he ghosts his lips over your nipple before flicking out his tongue.

“oh shit.” you moan, one hand fisting in the comforter while the other grabs rafes shoulder, digging your nail slightly into the skin, but rafe loves the pain.

he wraps his lips around your nipple, sucking it into his mouth while you moan, trying to keep your voice quiet enough to not wake anyone up. you made the mistake of being too loud one night, thinking since ward and rose were gone that gave you a little more clearance, only for sarah to pound on rafes door and tell him to keep it down.

“so good, baby.” rafe praises you, dragging his mouth over to the other side of your chest, making sure to give both sides equal attention.

you let out a shiver, the cold air combined with the loss of warmth from rafes mouth causing goosebumps to rise on your skin and your nipple to pebble even more.

“are you cold baby?” rafe asks, his voice soft and cooing, so unlike how he speaks to his friends, only allowing this side of himself out for you.

“yeah, need your cock inside me to warm me up.” you giggle, not usually bold enough to dirty talk but the alcohol flowing through you is loosening your tongue.

“of course.” rafe hums like its the obvious answer. he stands off the bed to take off his underwear, his eyes on you as you smirk and raise your legs to pull your own panties off.

you spread your legs to show rafe your pussy, already wet for him in anticipation.

“god, can’t wait to get inside you.” rafe says, taking a moment to tug the comforter from underneath you, crawling onto the bed and draping it over both your bodies. its an uncharacteristically cold night in the outer banks, despite the summer sun warming the air during the day, the winds have brought a chill to the island.

“mmm, very warm now.” you smile, the heat from both of your bodies now trapped.

“still need my cock though?” rafe asks.

“mhm.” you nod quickly. “fuck me, please.” “aww, baby.” rafe laughs, taking your knee and raising it to wrap around his waist, sinking to his elbows as he uses his hand to line his cock up with your entrance. “you never have to beg me.”

rafe pushes his cock in slowly, knowing he can’t go too fast because he didn’t open you up with his fingers or tongue, having to resist your soft moans and whines until he’s fully seated inside.

“god, so good.” you rub your fingers over rafes scalp, taking a breath to relax, allowing your body to release its tension of suddenly having rafes cock pushing against your walls, stretching you open.

“hey, rafe!” the voice calls from outside, making you both pause, realizing at once that the door is unlocked as ward turns the handle, stepping into the room and continuing to speak, “i need you to help out tomor-”

ward suddenly stops speaking, seeing you in bed, trying to hide underneath rafe and the covers while he hovers over top of you, thankfully any nudity being covered from wards eyes.

“rafe.” ward sighs, placing his hands on his hips. “you didn’t tell me you had someone over.” “sorry, dad.” rafe says, straining to not move, his cock still solid inside of you. “y/n is over.” “hi mr. cameron.” you say, wondering if its clear what you are doing with rafe at the moment, hoping ward is just thinking you’re cuddling or something.

rafes hips suddenly move, making you let out a noise thats a combination of a moan and a gasp. he pulls out almost completely before pressing back inside of you, the movements somewhat slow but still incredibly obvious.

“rafe, stop!” you whisper, cheeks turning red as rafe ignores your plea, continuing to thrust inside of you, despite his father still standing in the doorway.

“jesus christ, rafe.” ward sighs with disappointment. “anyways, i need your help tomorrow so don’t stay up to late… and be safe. use protection.” ward finally leaves, closing the door behind you.

“rafe!” you look up at your boyfriend, reaching to hit his shoulder. “you couldn’t sit still for one fucking minute!” “sorry, baby.” rafe laughs, the alcohol clearly affecting his judgment. “had to move, your pussy is too good.”

“you’re lucky i don’t listen to wards advice and make you use a condom.” you groan, even as your leg tightens around rafes hips, encouraging him to move faster.

“aw, come on baby.” he pouts. “you wouldn’t.”

taglist: @drewstarkeyslut @forstarkey @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog @outerbankspov @drewstarkeyswifehoe @cutielando @kamninaries @buckyswhxre @rafeinterlude @bellbottombaby @deeaardiary @rubixgsworld @wearemadeofstardust0 @leighbronk @starkeysheart @pradabambie @tobesolovelysstuff @alexiskirkland @rafestar @brioffthegrid @juniebugg @magicalyoura @cokepewpsii @mysticallystilinski @luvdella @aerangi @folklorsweet @yourenogoodforme @auryyz @mayhem-72 @thestarlithideout @marvelfanfics1recs @rafesgiirl @ditzyzombiesblog

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strangersteddierthings · 6 months

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Childhood friends AU Idea

Steve and Eddie are best friends who make plans to learn the elvish alphabet from The Hobbit so that they can pass notes without worrying about other people reading them.

The end of the school year (Eddie in 6th, Steve in 5th) brings a sadness to the two. Eddie's going to middle school and Steve's not yet, but they can hang out on weekends, and they have all summer so no worries. (Also, it gives Steve a little more time to learn elvish, since it'll be a whole year until they're in the same school again.)

Except yes worries because two weeks into summer, Eddie vanishes. When Steve bikes to his house to investigate, the whole house is empty. Packed up and gone. Steve goes to Wayne for answer and all he gets is a smile that doesn't really reassure and words of "his dad got a job opportunity, had to move on short notice. But don't worry, kiddo. I'll get you the number to their new place so you can call."

He learns elvish anyway. It's harder without Eddie to help but he's determined. Eddie might return, or maybe he'll get an address one day. Send a letter to Eddie in full Elvish.

Steve never gets a number or address. Summer ends and sixth grade comes. He doesn't want to forget all the elvish he's learned, just in case. So, he decides to keep a journal. He can write all about everything that's happening and when he sees Eddie, he can give it to him. It's a double win. Eddie will know everything he's missed out on AND it'll help Steve practice elvish.

Sixth grade ends. Eddie doesn't return. Steve did make friends with Carol Perkins though, so he's not as lonely. He hopes Eddie made a new friend, too. But not a new best friend. That's Steve's position, always.

Seventh grade brings Tommy Hagan, but still no Eddie. It brings a growth spurt and sports. Steve likes the easy camaraderie that comes with sports teams. It's like having a lot of friends, which Steve will only admit to needing in his journal. Needing many little connections of friendship to hold together the big hole Eddie left behind.

The summer between seventh and eighth grade brings him a Bruce Springsteen concert. He'd never thought of a boy kissing another boy until he'd witnessed it on stage but he thinks about it a lot after. The end of that summer brings an awaken he refuses to shy away from even if he has to hide it

Eighth grade brings popularity. Steve's good looking, rich, and liked among his peers. It brings the first (and last) time his dad says he's proud of him.

(Steve will spend the rest of his high school career chasing his father's approval.)

Freshman year brings Eddie back, but he's different. His hair is longer and his clothes are darker and he's distant. Defiant and angry. Steve would recognize him anywhere, dressed in anyway.

Eddie doesn't want his friendship anymore. Avoids him in the halls and cafeteria, but Steve is nothing if not persistent. He writes a full letter in elvish to slip into Eddie's locker, but Eddie catches him. Shoves the letter back, unopened, unread, with a harsh whispered, "Don't you get it Harrington? I don't want to be your friend. Fuck off."

Steve doesn't understand why. Not until the table top rants start. Conformity and jocks and brain-dead rich kids who get by on favoritism.

It hurts. Steve feels his heart break the day he finally gets the not-so-subtle messages drilled into his mind. Eddie hates sports, and rich people, and stupid people. Eddie hates all the things that Steve is.

Eddie hates him.

Sophomore year brings Steve a lot of things. It brings the acknowledgment that he was probably in love with Eddie, the way his heart twists the day he sees Eddie flirting with a girl in the hallway, the way he wants the lights out when hooking up with someone so he can imagine a different person pressed against him, the way he gravitates towards brunettes with brown eyes and the flickering hope it might make Eddie jealous. (The way he'd said the wrong name when Brent went down on him, too absorbed in the fantasy of someone else to get it right. Brent hadn't been offended by it, he'd been thinking of someone else, too. Steve finds solidarity for a little bit, until the school year ends and Brent leaves Hawkins.)

Junior year turns Steve's life upside down (pun intended) with monster's coming out of walls. There's probably a lot more he should write about but his journal's pretty empty this year. Too traumatized to document. (Too afraid of what Eddie would say because Steve still writes in his journal like he plans on sending it to Eddie one day. Better to write nothing than sound crazy.)

And halfway through his senior year (don't think about how he's in it with Eddie, about the 4 classes they share, about how Eddie still won't meet his eye) he wants to fade into the background. Nancy and he break up. She's with Jonathan and he hears the whispers of how pathetic he is to be eating lunch with his ex and the guy that 'stole' her. Steve knows that's a lie, Nancy made her choice, and no one can say otherwise, but it hurts to hear. He can't be bothered to try and make new friends. How would he explain the nightmares? The skittishness. The fear of the dark, of pumpkin patches, of his own damn pool now that he's had time to process last year?

Then, the next year brings him Robin. Well. First it brings him an embarrassing uniform and then Russian torture (don't think about it. Don't think about how he'll shorthand the stock list by writing it in Elvish sometimes. Don't think about how the Russian's almost believe they just work for Scoops until they find the stock list in his pocket. Don't think about how they don't believe that the strange script they can't identify isn't proof he's a spy), but in the end he gets Robin. A Platonic Soulmate who understands the hidden side of him. She asked if he was ever in love, and he thinks of the Eddie he used to know, longs to know again, and describes her instead. She rejects him in the softest way possible and then confesses about Tammy, and he confesses about Eddie in turn.

1986 brings Eddie back into his life in the worst way possible. With a bottle to his neck and them both acting like they've never spoken before. It brings twisting guts as Steve lies awake thinking about Eddie alone in a boathouse instead of sharing a bed with him like they used to in elementary school. It brings Steve leading them to Skull Rock (popularized as a make out spot but started as a set of boys' favorite place to play pirates during the summer). Dustin and Eddie make references Steve pretends to not know, despite his own copies of The Hobbit and Lord of the Rings and the numerous amounts of notebooks turned journals with elvish scrawled throughout.

There's a trek through the Upside Down. In another universe, Steve imagines he and Eddie talk. In this one, Robin sticks to his side like an extension of him (which she is), and glares at Eddie every time he looks in Steve's direction. Robin knows everything, knows it all, because there are no secrets between them.

They make plans to stop Vecna, once and for all, and Robin confesses she has a fear. That it won't turn out okay this time, but they have to try anyway. Steve clinks his bottle against hers and looks across the field to Eddie and Dustin. The stakes feel so much higher this time.

"I'm going to talk to Eddie if we survive. Make it right," he says.

"No. He's going to make it right because you didn't do anything wrong," Robin says, which is more support than he thought he'd get given the grudge she holds in his favor.

Eddie said make him pay and Steve does. Nancy advances, shotgun shot after shot and Steve's bounding down the stairs. Vecna beats him to the ground floor but not by much.

A hatchet's not the best tool to remove a head with but he manages. When he looks up, Nancy and Robin are looking down, both approving.

They find Dustin sobbing over Eddie and- and-

Steve's certain he's broken several of Eddie's ribs but he's breathing again, Nancy finds his pulse beneath all the blood, and Robin's retrieved the cut sheets to make bandages out of. Nothing is clean in this world, infection could kill him later, he might not save Eddie like he wants, but fucking Christ, at least if death claims him, it'll be on the right side of the world in a hospital.

Dustin, Robin, and Steve are at Eddie's side when Nancy leads Wayne into the room. They knew she went out looking for him (Steve was going to but Nancy had shoved him back in the chair with a look that left no room for argument) but even so they're startled by him.

Wayne has always been stoic and reserved, so it's no surprise to Steve when he just lets out a low whistle and says, "of all the people I might see here, you weren't one of 'em."

Steve swallows thickly and says, "well. I am. Here, I mean."

And Wayne gives him a watery smile and crosses the room. Pulls Steve into a hug that Steve thinks he probably wants to give to Eddie instead, but Eddie's not awake and standing and Steve is. But then Wayne says, "I told Eddie he couldn' chase ya away. That if he just talked to ya, you'd understand. He tried so hard to make ya hate him, and for what? For ya to be at his bedside anyway."

And Steve sobs. Loud and ugly and suddenly Dustin's there, and so are Robin and Nancy, and it's probably the most awkward hug for all the others but it's the best hug Steve's had in years. He doesn't even care that he's crying because how can he? Wayne's all but confirmed that Eddie doesn't hate him, maybe never hated him. That Eddie has an explanation, a reason for it all, and all he wants is Eddie to wake up and tell him.

Steve finally gets his apology two days after Eddie's release. It's the first time they've been alone together since- well, since elementary school. Wayne drove him here then lied about needing to check on something and said he'd be back in an hour or so before abandoned them to the awkward silence in Steve's living room.

"I'm sorry, Steve!" Eddie blurts out loudly, then looks startled by his own yelling.

"I know. I forgive you."

"You shouldn't."

"I know. Still do anyway. Would like to know what happened, though."

And Eddie tells him. How his father's debts came calling and they ran. How his mom got sick real fast, and his father's crime spree and prison sentence following her passing. How Eddie discovered the same thing about himself that Steve did but didn't have the same acceptance of himself. Hated that another thing marked him as Other. Freak.

He tells Steve how he couldn't let Steve back in because he was afraid of losing him again if he ever learned.

"I didn't think you'd be okay being friends with a faggot," Eddie spits the word out, dirty and mean and directed at himself.

Steve makes a decision then. "Follow me." And he helps Eddie up the stairs and into his room. Eddie sits on the bed and watches as Steve digs out notebook after notebook after notebook, until they're a tower on his bed. Then he topples them over in his search for the first.

Eddie takes the offered notebook with confusion on his face, looking from the cover, where 1978 is written on it. The summer Eddie vanished from Steve's life.

"Open it."

Eddie does and gasps. "Steve. Is this-"

"Every single one of these notebooks was written to you. For you. About you. I read The Hobbit for you. The Lord of the Rings. I learned elvish for you. I think I've been a little bit in love with you since the day we met on the playground on my second day of first grade."

"Steve," it comes out breathless and awed.

"Eddie," Steve repeats back to him, just as breathless as Eddie tosses the notebook aside and reaches for Steve instead. Hauls him in to kiss him senseless amongst the proof of Steve's devotion.

#steddie #fic #this was supposed to be a paragraph or two #why am i like this #steve has a complicated relationship with his parents #but they arent terrible #the picture descriptions have translation for the elvish if you wanna know what Steves been writing in his journals

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carlyraejepsans · 8 months

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an overwhelming majority of the really edgy aus that base themselves on the idea of sans "snapping" seem to work under the impression that there's a proportional relationship between sans' sanity and how many people are killed, so to make things easier, they just go ham with idk 10000 genocide runs and take it for granted that he'd go insane.

when actually, this thing is a bell curve. you kill few enough people? he can continue living his life like he doesn't care about it. you kill everyone? he's finally moved to act and do the right thing to prevent the timeline from ending. I'm tellin ya, it's in the MIDDLE that the fun happens. king mettaton ending, empress undyne ending... when you kill both toriel and papyrus but let the world live on a little more broken without them? now that's where he gets nasty.

#there is an addition in the notes you should reblog that version instead #do i think it's implied it ever gets that serious in canon definitely not #if i were to make it that serious to push him at his absolute lowest & at his most morally deplorable would i do it in these ending's?? 100 #ANNIEHWAY *drawing little crayon hearts around a picture of bodyguard sans*#i love when it's gritty at the undertale and the funny skeleton gets mean #I've had a fic idea stuck in my brain for MONTHS about this #undertale #sans

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originalartblog · 8 months

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Tiny skk adventures!

(continued ↓ )

when you're a big guy, chances of getting trapped in a glass tube are a lot lower than when you're just a tiny lad.

Thankfully they're both very forgiving.

(don't worry, Chuuya tended to those cuts)

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pettyprocrastination · 1 year

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The Revenant Wife

Pairing: Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Mentions of grief and death.

Summary: Ellie knows very little of Joel and even less of the wife he had before the outbreak. When she finally meets you, its just as much as shock to her as it is to your husband.

Word count: 1.6k

Note: ficlet is based off of this previous post about Joel getting separated from his wife during the outbreak and assuming you died until you find one another years later. Reader is described to look like Sarah. Title came from the ever lovely @djarin-junk <3

Tagging those I think would enjoy: @pedrostories @thesadvampire @joel-mlller @softanon @max--phillips @captainsamwlsn @hooplahoopla @moondirti

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Ellie didn’t know that Joel had a wife.

Granted, she didn’t know much about his old life at all.

She knew he built things. That he had a brother named Tommy and a daughter named Sarah, but didn’t like to talk about the latter that much. In one fleeting conversation, full of mumbles as her eyes began to close while they rested under the night sky she heard him mention you but was far too gone to truly hear what he said. Nothing more than the vague rumble of his voice saying “my wife” before her eyes opened once more.

“You’re married?”

She asks with such incredulous shock it sounds more like “somebody married you?” but girls at her age hardly ever have filters.

“I was.”

There’s the same bristle in his throat and far off look in his eyes as when she first asked about his daughter. An open answer but one that carries enough unsaid to tell Ellie of your fate. To warn her that she should change the subject or simply shut her mouth and go to sleep before plucking his raw nerve one too many times until he snaps-

“What was she like?”

But Joel learned early on that Ellie wasn’t one to follow warnings.

“Kind.” His breath stutters. “But not a pushover- she didn’t take shit from anybody.” He stares up at the sky, feeling his chest grow tight and fingers twitch by his side until there’s a rustling, the girl next to him rolling over to face him and he turns to find Ellie peeking out from her sleeping bag with a smile.

Damn this girl.

“Not even from you?”

Joel scoffs. “Especially from me. The amount of times she gave me and Tommy and earful-” he shakes his head, Ellie watches a smile grow on his face in silence, as if worried she may frighten it away.

“Did she cook?”

Ellie thinks of the stories the older kids would tell her. The ones who remembered life before the Outbreak, who told her of freshly baked pies on weekend and fluffy pancakes in the morning.

Joel remembers the first time you tried to bake him a cake for his birthday back when he was sixteen. How he opened the door to your forlorn face and a store bought sheet cake in your hands because as your mother told him over the phone, you damn near burned the whole house down trying to bake for him as a surprise.

“From time to time.”

There was only so much she could get out of him before his voice became clipped and eyes full of an emotion she didn’t quite know the name of that he told her to get some rest. Leaving her with nothing to do but to stare at the sky and wonder about these stories in the shape of a woman who unveiled a little bit more about the mysterious man she traveled with.

Of all the silence and secrets that made up the man that protected her, she created stories to fill them. Stories of Joel Miller, husband, father, brother and badass contractor that everybody loved. Of his soldier brother, of his wife and their smiling daughter between them both.

In Ellie’s mind, you didn’t work.

But not in a ditzy lame way like some boring housewife. But just because you didn’t have to.

Joel said that everybody loved contractors so that means he probably got paid like, a ton of money to build stuff for people so you got to stay at home all day. Ellie imagined your house to be ginormous. Maybe Joel made it himself for you when you guys first got married. It was big enough that when Joel came home everyday he’d call out your name and it’d echo through the hall as you called him into the kitchen, where your daughter sat reading as you set dinner on the table. Sometimes you’d get upset if he came home late but then he’d kiss your cheek and you would roll your eyes but smile before you all sat down and ate as a family.

Ellie imagines Joel’s daughter, she wonders if Sarah looks more like her mother than her father.

Ellie wonders as the sleep takes over her body, if they could have been friends.

When it happens, months later after she’s come to think of Joel as something akin to family and he thinks of her as something he can’t say out loud just yet, she’s shocked. She’s face to face with a woman holding her at gunpoint that looks nothing like the smiling mother she dreamt of during cold nights.

You don’t match the stories Ellie made up in your head.

You’re mean.

No. Mean isn’t the right word.

Cold. Yes. you're very cold.

Ellie watches in shock as you ask where they're headed, gun focused on the center of her chest while the two boys at your side point their own at Joel, who has yet to speak.

She waits for him to answer, but he just stares at you in awe. The same man she’s seen kill and threaten to keep her safe day in and day out is rendered speechless until all he can do is utter your name and she realizes that he knows you. More than that, judging by the way he surrenders his gun to you with no fight, something she had never seen him do.

You lift your head to look at him, the brim of your hat raises just enough to clear the shadow cast over your face and Ellie can finally see your eyes and the snarl on your face.

You’re also very pretty.

“I won’t ask again.”

The two boys standing on either side of you have your eyes. Same color and intensity, narrowed into slits like guard dogs waiting for an order and Ellie sees the way Joel stares at them.

She wonders if Sarah had brothers.

“Out west.” He manages. “Takin’ her to her family.”

Your eyes move to her and she holds her hands higher in the air.

“That true?” “What?”

“Is he telling the truth?”

The taller one, Duke, she had heard you call him, had already ripped the bag from her back and emptied its contents onto the ground, she had nothing else to hide from you.

But then she sees something in your eyes. A concern for her that she hadn’t seen since Tess or Marlene.

And she understands.

“He’s telling the truth.” Ellie forces out.

You watch her for a moment and there’s a moment of panic where she thinks you can see right through her lie.

But then you lower your gun and jerk your head over your shoulder.

“C’mon.” is all you say before you begin to walk away. The boys gawk at you for a moment before you give them a look of warning and they follow in your step, occasionally casting glances behind them at Joel and Ellie who follow suit.

She’s quick to grab onto the sleeve of Joel’s jacket and pull with a harsh whisper as the other’s march forward.

“You know this psycho?”

Joel flinches at her voice as it pitches up. If any of you heard her, which he gathered you did because Ellie didn’t have an inside voice to save her fucking life, you didn’t care enough to react.

Ellie whispers his name again. Insistent and angry for answers but he just keeps looking forward. He can’t take his eyes off of you or the boys ahead and it fills her with worry but she doesn’t know why.

“She’s my wife.”

You lead them to a cottage. Its paint is chipping and the fence is reinforced with wiring around the perimeter but it looks like a home. She can vaguely hear the soft clucking of chickens nearby and there's a flash of fur behind the fence with a pair of pointed ears that duck away just as fast as she saw them.

Ellie has seen the remnants of homes before the outbreak. The plates still stacked in the sink and the jacket still hung up on the hook. A story telling a family that once lived within its walls and is now nothing more than memories that ghosts along its foundation.

But this one is real. It’s yours.

There is a rickety wooden table in the dining room. Each chair around it seems to have been brought from a different house and is varying shades of faded brown. You kick the leg of one and nod toward it.“Sit, both of you.”

Ellie looks to Joel before sitting. He follows suit, choosing the chair closest to her.

“I’m gonna get some bandages for that leg-”

Joel shifts forward. “I don’t need-”

“I wasn’t fucking asking, Joel.”

You’re not stronger than Joel, if she had to guess. You both look the same age, but she’s seen his strength, his violence, all done for her safety and knows if it came down to it, you might not win in a fight against him.

But at your order, he sits back in his chair.

You turn and set a shoulder on your son’s shoulder.

At least. She thinks he’s your son.

Softly spoken words are exchanged while the other keeps his eyes on Joel and his hand on his holster. The boy says something back in insistence, but you tilt your head and he nods.

“If either of them try moving or taking anything.” You offer them one final look over your shoulder before slipping out of the room. “Shoot them.”

They listen to your footsteps slowly retreat until there’s nothing but the subtle creak and groan of the wood floor beneath them. Ellie leans forward to look at Joel, setting her hands firmly on the dinner table in announcement.

“Dude-” The young girl breathes out. “Your wife is a bitch.”

#revenant wife tag #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #this is just a little blurb because I havent written in a hot minute #mostly from ellies third pov so i hope the sort of juvenile internal thoughts make sense #joels wife is a sort of scary badass gal with a lil farm #joel miller x female reader #@ the blogs who asked to be tagged but had zero header or age in their bio: do better #tumblr please dont rearrange the order of this again im BEGGING #not pictured in the fic: joel punching duke in the face and wrestling the gun from his hands before the other twin shows up followed by you #and now joel has to grapple with the fact that 1. his wife is alive 2. she had children 3. he just sucker punched his own kid

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pjs-everyday · 3 months

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friends keep us warm ❤️

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little-pondhead · 2 months

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The Curse Of Hope

Danny is in another universe. He had a reason, but he doesn’t remember anymore. He can only stare, horrified and disgusted, at the sickest city spirit he’s ever seen. Shivering and swaying with every step, core exposed, and ectoplasm leaking from wounds that are decades old. A ratty blanket was thrown over their shoulders, barely hiding the spirit’s pale grey skin and protruding black bones.

The spirit didn’t even sense him until he reached out to touch its wispy shoulders. The spirit flinched, clutching at the dozens of trinkets hanging from their neck and tucking in on themselves like they were expecting a blow.

“Oh, shit,” He swore, floating back a few feet, hands in the air, to show he meant no harm. “I’m sorry. I promise, I’m not here to steal from you.” The spirit shivered again and rolled a pearl necklace in between their fingers. A nervous habit. “Uh, I like that pocket watch? It’s very nice.”

That got their attention. They peeked at Danny, and he saw that more tattered cloth was covering their eyes, blending in with the stringy hair that reached the ground. Their blanket fluttered weakly, revealing hundreds of thousands of tiny marks etched into their skin. Scars, really. Scars that wrote out curse after curse onto the spirit’s very being. They burned with evil intent, and even reached inside the spirit’s body and wrapped around their core.

Occasionally, blinding specks of color raced across their body, temporarily erasing the writing, but it always returned quickly. He watched, a little detached, as one particular line rewrote itself across their rough forearm, drawing fresh ectoplasm like someone was writing it with a thin knife.

“Are you…alright?” Danny stuttered. A stupid question.

The spirit cocked its head. He couldn’t see their eyes, but he felt their burning gaze as they pondered the question.

“The pain of others becomes mine own.” They rasped. “The lights of the city dim as rotten wealth clogs mine veins. Magicks long forgotten have eaten mine skins, pulled mine cloak, and darkened mine skies. Helios has refused to grace mine doorstep, and the seasons of the Earth have revoked their kindness.”

Danny held his breath. It felt like he was the one with the exposed core, not the spirit.

The spirit shivered once more. “Tell mine soul, little lamb. How could this Forsaken City know peace, when it was long since ripped from mine hands?”

Shit, he needed Frostbite. And maybe Clockwork. Now.

-Or-

Danny meets the spirit of Gotham City. The villains and rogues that have plagued the city for decades are literal curses that are taking quite the toll on Gotham, and honestly, Danny isn’t sure how much longer they can hold out. The heroes seem to be doing some help, and are probably the reason Gotham made it this far, but the poor city needs help from the Realms if they want to get better.

Luckily, Danny can provide that help.

But only if he could get Gotham to leave their city behind. Because recovery is going to take a very long time.

#dpxdc #pondhead blurbs #Gotham is very lanky and tall and had dozens of necklaces around their neck #the necklaces are just cords filled with lost things the citizens have lost over the years #like bits of glass or wedding rings or hag stones made from a destroyed gargoyle #actually I have a weird picture of Gotham in my head I might draw it #it’s giving Bloodborne to me but idgaf #basically Danny meets Gotham and is trying to convince them to go with him for medical help because what the fuck #those curses are the equivalent of leaving hundreds of leeches stuck to your body for ten years #Danny is BEGGING Gotham to come with him #there’s potential for angst but if you want crack then Danny probably replaces Gotham #I think there’s already a similar fic where he becomes the new spirit of Gotham but I haven’t read all of that #anyways the Batfam are like #invasive animals that are actually helping the ecosystem recover from an even WORSE invasive species #but they aren’t supernatural heroes and they don’t understand that the issue is deeper #I’m calling this the Curse of Hope because Danny is offering hope to Gotham #but Gotham is just so tired and sick and hurt that they don’t want to risk it #they think Danny is another curse come to plague them #should he just straight up adopt the city at this point?#idk it probably depends on how it’s written #sad course is to let Gotham die. happy ending is where they are treated and returned #crack ending probably has Danny adopting the city and introducing them to his own city spirit Amity Park #oh shit is that a new ship #guys please I can’t keep doing this #Gotham City x Amity Park #how the fuck do you come up with a name for that #Burger Joints?#Wet Pavement?#bro idk I’m putting this down before I make something I might regret #low key wanna write this but like. I have so much to do

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cappydoodle · 10 months

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that one poké twitter (pokétter? or would it be smth like chatotter?? idk) post from ch 10 of my fic :3c

unblurred pic below the cut!!

#my arts #my fics #pokemon #submas #legends arceus #ingo #emmet #akari #depot agents #pokemon ingo #pokemon emmet #pokemon akari #tag along au #i had an idea for another post with this picture but it'd be spoilys for stuff i haven't written yet ehehe #also if you tag this as bl*nksh*pp*ng i swear im gonna🔪🔪#midnight posting #1am posting baybee #id in alt text

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stvharrngton · 2 years

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three or four times

a/n: my weaknesses are titles and endings so I apologise if they are horrible ghsjdjdj. the more I read this the more I dislike it but I just couldn’t leave it unfinished

pairing: steve harrington x henderson!fem reader

word count: 2.2k

warnings: enemies to lovers sorta, a little angsty, swearing, steve pining asf

prompt: “last time i checked, you guys were at each others' throats. how come you're sending heart eyes every time you see her now?"

requests are open!

The first time Steve thought you were pretty was in high school. You a year younger, leaning against your locker books held close to your chest, talking to another girl from your year - someone from Steve’s history class he was sure.

The way the pink skirt you wore hugged your waist, teased at your thighs, the clean frilly white socks a stark contrast to your dirty Converse. You giggled with your friend as you tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear. Steve was gone right there and then, your laugh intoxicating - the way your lips reached your cheeks sending a pang right to his heart.

I’m in love, Steve thought.

He sauntered past you and your friend - Rachel, maybe? Nah. A smirk plastered on his face, his hand raised so he could wiggle his fingers at you in greeting, his left eye closing in a wink. Tommy H and his friends hollering in a trail after him, clasping him on the shoulder.

I hate Steve Harrington, you thought. And his dickbag friends.

The second time Steve thought you were pretty was during the fall of 1984. Your younger brother having claimed Steve as his sidekick for whatever problem he was trying to solve. You rolled your eyes at the notion of Dustin being involved with Steve, claiming he was an asshole.

But as you ended up with your brother, Max and Lucas and unfortunately, Steve, at the junkyard trapped in the broken down bus your irritation subsided for fear. You shielded the kids behind you whilst you watched Steve cling onto his studded bat - ready to swing.

Once the Demodogs had scampered off and the coast was clear, he turned to you and the kids. All charming smile and smugness complete with that damn wink again. You rolled your eyes at the gesture.

“Knock it off, Harrington,” you scoffed, “let’s go.”

Arms crossing over your chest hugging yourself as you all began the long walk home, attempting to provide a slither of comfort to your cold body. Eyes trained on Lucas and Max bickering in front of you, Steve and Dustin lingering behind you.

Steve couldn’t stop staring. Granted, it was dark and he was staring at the back of your head but his eyes were glued to your figure. When you turned your head to check on Dustin he caught a glimpse of your face.

Cheeks pink and the tip of your nose tinted red, eyes glassy and your hair pulled back in a messy ponytail, two curly strands framing either side of your face. Steve’s brow furrowing at the thought of you being cold; wanting to wrap you up in the biggest blanket he owned. You were cute, Steve thought. So very cute.

When you finally made it back to your house, you sped up to your front door ready to be greeted by the warmth of the inside, Dustin held Steve back - his arm falling back against his stomach to stop him.

A glance at you before he turned to the older boy next to him, “What’s going on with you?” Dustin whispered.

“What?” his eyes fell over to you, watching you dig in your pockets for your key, “What are you talkin’ about?”

“Don’t play dumb with me! I’ve seen you ogling her all day!”

Steve scoffed, “Your sister? Henderson I-“

“You’ve been making googly eyes at her all day, Steve! Whatever this is,” Dustin mocked, fingers drawing imaginary lines between you and Steve, “stop it. She’s off limits.”

Finally fishing the key from your jacket pocket, you turned it in the lock, your brows joining together at the sight of Steve and Dustin having some sort of agitated conversation, “Dustin! Move your ass, come on.” you whisper-shouted into the night.

“Coming!” Dustin called out to you, rushing his way over to your house, not before he turned back to Steve, “Off. Limits.” he stated, gesturing back to you.

Steve could only hold his hands up in defeat, waving you both inside your house before beginning the walk down the street to his own. It was then that Steve Harrington forced himself to hate you for the sake of your meddling little brother.

The third time Steve thought you were pretty was the beginning of summer ‘85. The thick Indiana air hot and sticky, all busy days at the local pool and cherry slushies. Steve managed to get a job at the new Starcourt mall - Scoops Ahoy ice cream parlour complete with the uniform of a sailor.

Unfortunately for Steve that job came with a co-worker, that co-worker being your best friend, Robin. Making your appearances at Scoops reoccurring and making Steve’s situation ten times harder than it already was.

As if on cue, you sauntered into the ice cream shop making a beeline for the counter and Steve couldn’t help but stare, cloth wiping the counter in circular motion on automatic. You looked pretty, so pretty, no, beautiful actually. High-waisted denim shorts pulled in at your waist with a cute red belt, tight black t-shirt donning the logo of the clothing store you worked at hugging your chest, finished with your red-rimmed sunglasses in the shape of hearts perched on top of your head, freckles sprayed across your face.

Your soft pudgy thighs on show for everyone to see and it drove him crazy, you did it on purpose, he swore. You dinged the bell on the counter obnoxiously, snapping the boy back to reality.

Steve scrambled to look natural, like he wasn’t so obviously staring at you.

“Nice get up, Harrington.” you teased, an outstretched finger pointing to his outfit.

He rolled his eyes at you, “Can I suggest you get some new jokes?” scooper in hand, ready, “The usual, Henderson?”

“And can I suggest you become less of an asshole?” you said, “but yes, please.”

The boy scoffed at you, “Sure, anything for you.”

It was your turn to roll your eyes now, slapping your dollar bills down on the counter and snatching the small cup of mint choc chip from Steve.

“You’re welcome!” he shouted after you as you went to sit at your usual booth to wait for Robin. You didn’t mean to be such a brat but you couldn’t help it; Steve just irritated you. It’s not like you didn’t want to get along with him, but he was just unnecessarily mean lately so you gave it back as good as you got.

Storming through to the back Steve slumped into one of the chairs in the break room, hards carding through his hair in pure frustration. He sighed, calling out to his co-worker, “Robin! That piece of work you call a best friend is out there waiting for you!”

“Have you tried, I don't know, actually talking to her instead of bickering all the time?” Robin pondered, “I think you would actually get along great.” A scowl her only response.

Robin left Steve in the break room wondering if there was any chance that you felt the same and why the hell he was letting your little brother control his love life.

Present day and Steve was head over heels, he was convinced.

You could only grimace when Dustin invited you over to Steve’s place - an afternoon by the pool in his backyard where he would be shirtless? Awful, you thought. But your brother insisted he needed a ride and that Robin would be there and so you reluctantly agreed.

Steve could only gawp when you arrived, Dustin in tow. Tiny shorts that barely covered your ass, red strap of your bikini top peaking beneath your shirt as it hung off your shoulder.

Sweet brown eyes trained on you all day from behind his signature black RayBans, Steve was sure if anyone could see his pupils they would be blown, full of affection for someone he could never have. A soft smile plastered all over his face as he watched you giggle with your brother and his friends, as you lathered yourself in suncream, kicking himself when he didn’t offer to help when you couldn’t quite reach your back.

Steve sat at the edge of the pool, long legs dangling in the cool of the water. Palms pressed into the flat of the grass, head back letting the sun kiss all of his moles and freckles in the way he wished you would. A nudge to his knee brought his gaze back down to the culprit.

“Last time I checked, you guys were at each others’ throats. How come you’re sending heart eyes every time you see her now?” Robin questioned, eyes looking up at Steve before glancing back at you on the sun lounger.

Fuck. He tried not to be obvious, thought the sunglasses would shield his eyes from everyone else. That they would hide the way his gaze lingered a little too long on the cherry red bikini you wore, how the barely there ties were high on your hips, how you looked so damn pretty.

“I literally have no idea what you’re talkin’ about, Robin.”

Robin simply chuckled at the boy, “Sure, Stevie. Do you like her?”

A sigh, a shrug. Steve really couldn’t be bothered to have this conversation with his co-worker turned best friend right now. Especially when you were here looking like that by his pool.

As the afternoon turned into evening, the energy of the group simmered down a little. The kids moving inside to devour and pick at the pizza and snacks provided. Steve watched you from his kitchen - beer in hand as your feet curled into the grass beneath. A shit mumbled from his lips, he made his way outside to you, sitting on the lounger next to yours.

“Hey,” he whispered, “how come you’re outside by yourself?”

Never looking at him, you shrugged, “I like the quiet.”

Steve watched through his lashes as you sipped your beer, lips turned down, no sparkle in your eyes. You looked sad. All he could muster was a nod in reply.

Your tongue clicked against your teeth, you turned to Steve now, “Why do you hate me, Steve?” you paused, eyes glassy as they bore into his dark brown ones.

His brows furrowed together at your question, “Hate you? I don’t hate you, what makes you say that?” he feigned ignorance.

You shrugged, the label on your beer bottle becoming more interesting. “Dunno, I just- you’re so mean sometimes.”

Steve’s heart shattered into pieces, he was sure, like you reached right into his chest and stomped all over it. If only you knew how he really felt.

“I don't-” he stammered, looking for some sort of reason to give you, like you had just caught him in headlights, “I can’t, you just have to believe me, sweetheart. I don’t want to be mean.”

The endearing term all but stopped you in your tracks. You sniffled, bleary eyes narrowing questioning what he was saying, “What do you mean?”

Shit. Shit, shit, fuck. Well, it was now or never, Steve thought.

“It was Dustin.” Steve hushed, like he almost didn’t want to nark on your little brother. Like he didn’t want to admit he let a 14 year old have a say in his love life.

“Dustin?!” you screeched, “What do you mean, Dustin?” Arms flailing into your lap.

“I- he said you were off limits, that I couldn’t, that we couldn't..” he trailed off, “so I thought it might be easier this way, I wouldn’t fall hopelessly in love but I was so wrong.”

“Steve,” you whined, “why on Earth would you listen to that little shithead?”

The boy chuckled, fingers tugging at his brown locks, shrugging, “He was just trying to protect you, I kinda admired it.” he paused, contemplating what to say next, “And I don’t exactly have the best track record,” his gaze flicked down to the ground now, “I know you thought I was an asshole in high school.”

You rolled your eyes now, “That was high school, Steve. It’s not like you’re the King of Hawkins High anymore, right?” you said, hopeful.

A breathy laugh left his lips as he nodded, his eye trained on you as he watched you stand and sit yourself next to him on the lounger. Knees knocking and shoulders brushing.

“Did you mean it?” you asked.

“Hm?” he looked up at you with confusion.

“What you said,” a smile toying on your lips, eyelashes fluttering up at the boy, “that you were hopelessly in love with me?”

A blush crept across his cheeks, heat prickling the back of his neck but he grinned at you nonetheless, “Yeah, yeah I did.”

Steve laced his fingers with your own then, the foreign feeling welcome and comforting. A touch that said I'm here and I'll take whatever you're willing to give me. Steve’s gaze fell to your lips, plump and inviting, before climbing back to your eyes.

You shifted next to him, your free hand came to sit on top of his thigh as you inched ever closer. Then Steve’s lips were on yours. It was soft and slow, the dim taste of warm beer and his strawberry chapstick crowding your senses. You sighed into the kiss, Steve licking into you all pretty, like he had been wanting to do this for a long, long time.

His hand came to cup your cheek, thumb soothing the pink of your sunburn as you broke the kiss. Chest heaving and Steve's forehead resting against your own. Eyes dreamy and thick with honey, nothing but pure adoration washing over his features.

You both burst into a fit of giggles, eyes lighting up like the stars in the night sky. Giddy and full of excitement.

“Good to know.”

#steve harrington #steve harrington fic #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x henderson reader #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington fanfiction #I had the ending pictured and planned so clear so we had to get there somehow fellas #don't know what I think of this but yeah he we go I guess #k.fic #the henderson reader trope really has me in a chokehold

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sepia-stained-sunset · 9 months

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Jason canonically has more pictures of Tim as Robin than Tim ever did of Jason as Robin.

It's actually the other way around...that's fucking hilarious.

#don't let that stop you from putting that in your fics though #the important thing is to have fun #still. very funny that canon jason has a wall of robin!tim pictures and canon tim has zero (0) robin!jason pics #tim drake #jason todd #please do not ship

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buck2eddie · 2 months

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in a universe where buck and eddie actually met at the fire academy, top of their class, and have since been inseparable. you won't catch one without the other, which is why when one bobby nash, captain of the 118, has to picks his new probies, buckley & diaz come as a package deal.

#this is all thanks to the middle picture 🫡#if anyone wants to write this fic you're more than welcome I'll cheer you on <3 #buddie #evan buckley #eddie diaz #buddieedit #buddie moodboard #911 abc #911edit #911 moodboard #m*mbs

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rafeandonlyrafe · 4 months

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ponytail

words: 1k

warnings: 18+ only, smut, blowjob, face fucking a bit, hair play?, mentions of thigh riding, public sex

“can i join you today rafey?” you ask, plopping down on his lap.

“join me for what?” he questions, dropping his phone onto the couch, the weather app still opened up, checking the radar and wind direction.

“golf, duh.” you say like it's obvious. he does usually go on fridays, so it's no surprise that he would be going today, especially since it was pretty sunny out

“oh.” rafe says, his eyebrows raising in surprise. “you really want to go with me?”

“mhm.” you nod. “i bought a new golf skirt.”

“ah, now it makes sense.” rafe laughs, pulling you into his chest when you pout. “of course you can come baby.”

“yay!” you press a kiss to his lips, your hands coming to rest on his strong jaw. “im gonna go get ready.”

you hop up off of rafes lap, but not before giving him another kiss. you head upstairs, excited to get dressed in your new golfing outfit. you apply makeup, figuring you'd get rafe to take some cute pictures of you for instagram.

you tie your hair up in a ponytail before adjusting your skirt and putting on your golf shoes.

“all ready, rafey.” you bound back down the stairs. rafe perks up instantly when he sees you in your tiny skirt.

“you look hot.” rafe says as he stands, coming over to deliver a kiss.

“thanks baby.” you smile, rafe still managing to make you blush even after you've been together for over a year.

“come on, let's go before it gets too busy.” rafe says, taking your hand in his as he leads you out the door.

“rafe, cut it out.” you say with a laugh as his hands find a way to your waist again.

“i can't help it baby, you look so good.” he groans, pulling your body against his, not letting you swing your club and hit the golf ball.

“i know, but i gotta hit this! don't you wanna move on to the next hole?” you question. it's an easy putt, which is all you really like to do. you always start your turn from where rafes first hit lands, it makes golf easier and more enjoyable for you. rafe even lets you drive the cart from time to time.

“wanna move on to your next hole.” rafe says, making you lean against him as you howl with laughter.

“that was so stupid!”

“shut up.” rafe groans, burying his head in your shoulder, glad that you wore a tank top today that didn't cover too much of your skin as he kisses where your neck meets your shoulder.

“you are corny, rafe cameron.” you say with a roll of your eyes, pulling away from his grabby hands so you can finally make your putt.

you line up your shoot before tapping the ball into the hole, letting out a whoop in happiness at getting it in.

“good job.” rafe says, giving you a high five.

you retrieve your ball before heading to the next hole, frowning when rafe turns the golf cart the wrong direction.

“uh… rafe?” you question as he pulls behind a patch of woods.

“wanna suck me off baby?” he questions as he puts the cart into park, looking over at where you are perched on the golf cart next to him.

“oh!” you squeal, now understanding why he took you to the one secluded part of the course. “yes!”

rafe laughs, stepping out of the cart and moving to the other side. you get on your knees in the cart, not wanting to dirty them in the grass.

rafe tugs his zipper down as you work the button open, mouth already salivating.

you pull his pants down to his thighs, his underwear coming with it as his cock perks up, already hardening. rafe glances around, double checking that no one is around as you grasp his cock.

you open your mouth, stroking over his cock as you rub the head against your tongue. rafe lets out a quiet moan, his hand moving to grip your ponytail.

“gonna fuck your mouth, yeah?” rafe questions. he wants to let you take your time, but he also doesn’t want to get in trouble with the country club if he gets caught.

you nod, opening your mouth as rafe pushes your head down on his cock, his hips pushing forward at the same time. you place your hands on his thighs to keep yourself steady as he uses your ponytail to guide you up and down.

rafe only takes it slow for a minute before he begins to snap his hips forward, his cock growing inside your mouth.

he wraps your ponytail around his head for a better grip. you squeeze your eyes closed at the pain of your hair being pulled, you panties flooding with wetness.

“good girl.” rafe praises you, pumping faster. you moan around his length, glad that you have enough practice on his cock to accommodate him easily, remembering when you first blew him and was unable to take him all the way into your mouth.

you whine as rafe yanks on your hair, using your mouth to get himself off. your throat constricts around him as you resist the urge to cough, managing to squeeze your fists tightly and avoid gagging.

rafe picks his head up from looking at you to glance around again, but he sees no carts or players nearby.

“gonna cum in your mouth baby.” rafe warns, imagining if you did get caught, if someone saw you being such a good slut for him, your jaw slack as his cock pulses in your mouth.

rafe releases quickly after his warning, cum spurting into your mouth. you moan around his length, sucking gently as you help him ride out his high.

rafe pulls you off by your ponytail, tucking his cock back into his pants and redoing them.

“you messed up my hair.” you pout, trying to smooth out your ponytail.

“sorry, baby.” rafe says, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead. you wipe your mouth and move to sit back on the seat of the cart, stretching your legs out.

“wanna ride my thigh to make up for it?” rafe asks, sticking his leg out.

“oh, yes!” you squeal, sliding over to push your crotch into his thigh, straddling him.

taglist: @drewstarkeyslut @rafecamerongirl @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @drewsbabygirll @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @jjmaybankisbae @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog @outerbankspov @drewstarkeyswifehoe @cutielando @kamninaries @buckyswhxre

#fun fact i fucking hate this fic!#i just had a different picture in my mind but ugh whatever #i wanna move on #rafe smut #rafe cameron smut #obx smut #outer banks smut #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron fic #rafe fic #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe cameron x reader #rafe x reader #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe fanfic #rafe cameron x you #obx x reader #obx fic

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beom9yus · 7 months

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dare - choi soobin x reader

: soobin x genderless reader

: oral-soobin receiving, cum eating?tasting? pretty much it

: 2k words - just simply wanted to write about sucking him off LOL

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” You stare at your friend who was laying down on the hospital room bed. He’s looking away with a cute bunny pout as you laugh in his face. “How did you-how did you manage to break both your wrists and parts of your fingers?” You start shaking as you bite your bottom lip, trying to hold back from laughing in his face. You feel your cheekbones plump up from smiling, not being strong or mature enough to have a serious face.

His hands that are in casts almost all the way up to his elbows, are currently on the side of his body, one hand being mostly free, casted from his lower palm downwards. Meanwhile the right was entirely sculpted in a cast. Sadly for Soobin, you couldn’t help but guffaw. It was too funny. He’s annoyed now, raising his upper body up to quietly yell at you. He furrows his brows as he tells you, “Stop. It’s not even that funny. Hyuka dared me to do a cartwheel and I made it to the part where my hands are on the ground, and my legs in the air… and I have no clue what happened next. I’m going to be double handless for who knows how long.”

“You’re literally the last person anyone should dare when it comes to doing anything physical. Over six feet and you’re bad at anything that has to do with using your body.” He rolls his eyes and tries to cross his arms as he realizes he can’t, not properly at least. He just responds with, “yeah yeah whatever.”

You think again about Soobin trying to do a cartwheel and you start to feel yourself cry from the amount of giggles and chortling, hands wrapped around your stomach. “Damn Binnie, how are you going to do anything now? You quite literally need both your hands for almost everything.” You wipe some of the tears that rolled down your face, “By the way, did the rest of the group come already? I haven’t checked my phone since I got your call…Wait, how did you even call me?”

Looking unamused, he replies, “I had Hyuka dial you for me for your information. And yeah, they came already, you’re the last one to get here.” He looks like he’s thinking and he raises his head, looking ahead, and his eyes widen, “holy shit you’re right, how am I gonna do anything. How am I going to-“ he stops mid sentence as his ears redden. You quickly catch on. “Dude, you’re nasty.”

“Shut up, you’re the one that’s thinking weird stuff. Also, I’m probably going to have to see if I’ll be excused for some assignments or something? I’ll have to figure it out.”

“Well I’m not doing your assignments for you.”

You guys continue bickering like children until you’re both finally quiet.

You hum as you finally calm down and sit next to him.

“Hey, when are they letting you go home?”

“Tomorrow. They have to do extra checkups or something, I don’t know.”

You nod as you finally ask him if he needs anything else and he tells you no, but it seems like he changed his mind. “Actually, can you change the channel for me? This is boring.”

A day goes by, and both you and Soobin enter your shared space, finally getting home after they let him go. Obviously unable to drive, you had to bring him home. “Okay Soobin, welcome home again, don’t try to do any fancy aerobics for a while okay?” He just sighs, rolling his eyes, “ha ha. You’re so funny.” You shoot him a quick evil smile as you sit down on the couch. He decides to sit next to you as you put on some random movie. Most of the week is normal, Soobin able to do some low level things with one hand, and asking for your help with what he can’t.

It was a quiet day when you entered the apartment. You put down the bags of groceries as you started heading towards Soobin’s room, asking if he wanted food. That’s when you hear him curse, “Shit, ow.” You thought he hurt his hand and needed something as you entered the room.

“Hey Soobin, you need help with somethin-“

You widen your eyes in shock as you see him sitting on his gaming chair, sweatpants around his thighs, as his almost cast free hand is on his member. You struggle as you slowly step back, trying to look anywhere but at him.

“Fuck I-I’m so sorry, I should’ve knocked. Let’s just forge-“

He doesn’t look that embarrassed, instead of hiding, he places his right arm over his face, voice shaking, “Y/n help me please. Please.”

You stop in your tracks as you try to process what he just said. “What?”

He turns his face away and you can see how red his ears and side of his cheeks are. Left hand still on his dick, he starts answering you with a quiet and quivering voice, “it’s-it’s been more than a week since I’ve gotten off and I just…I just can’t. It hurts to try because of this stupid fucking cast, it’s too high up on my palm so it hurts me, a-and it’s my left hand so it’s harder. Please y/n, I wouldn’t want to ask you something this humiliating, I just need to get off. If..if you’re uncomfortable I understand too, I wouldn’t blame you if you walked away.”

You kind of feel bad for the guy…

You deeply breathe in and out once, “Okay. I’ll help you. Only this once. I don’t want our friendship to get all weird, you’re important to me you know.” He lifts his head up as he looks at you, shaking his head quickly, “it won’t! It won’t, I promise! Please, just do something. Anything.”

You go up to him as he watches you, his heart racing fast. It’s not like he hadn’t dreamt or thought of this once or twice. Maybe a thousand times. It’s not my fault, he thinks, he just thinks you’re the cutest person ever, no big deal. You get on your knees as you remove his hand from his dick. You wondered how you should help him, not realizing you were staring at it. He flushed at the way you were seemingly staring so intently, feeling his dick twitch. He was glad his hands were restrained, or else he would’ve lifted you up and kissed you by now.

You hear Soobin whisper above you, “Y/n…”

“Oh. Sorry..um…” you quickly spit in your hand as you wrap your hand around him, unable to close the gap between your index finger and thumb. You see the way he gasps and slightly jumps from the feeling, liking the way your hand looks and feels on his dick. You stroke his dick shyly, unsure of what he even likes when it comes this kind of stuff. You guys were close, but never talked about anything this sexual before.

You look up at him nervously, and if Soobin was in some kind of cartoon, he’d probably be like those guys where you could see their hearts beat out of their chest. Your hands feel so soft on him, and he could tell the way you were apprehensive on what you wanted to do. Soobin trying to help, tells you, “harder, fuck, a little more, please.”

You do as he tells you, seeing him moan quietly as he rolls his head back a little, bunny lips slightly opened. Your eyes divert back to his length in your hands, seeing how pretty it was. It felt hot and heavy against your palm. As you continued to look, a thought appeared: you wanted it in your mouth. Your body shifts at the thought, suddenly feeling hot as you swivel your thumb around his head, letting his precum smear against it, and you drag what you can down to his base.

You look up to see Soobin with his head rolled back, breathing heavily, distracted from the way you were making him feel. You didn’t know, but Soobin was doing his best not to look at you too much or else he fears he might come too quick, wanting this to last.

You take this as an opportunity, and you bite your lips as your face gets closer towards his dick. Opening your mouth, you finally take in his head. You taste him, sensing how he feels against your tongue. He gasps loudly as he involuntarily and softly places his hands, or in this case, casts, on your hair, taken by surprise. He accidentally bucks up his hips, making the cutest face you’ve seen. You look up at him with big eyes, tip of his dick in your mouth.

Soobin swears he’s dreaming. He caresses your hair with his partly free hand as his breathing gets heavier, now panting at you slowly taking him into your soft, wet mouth more. His hair’s on his forehead, almost covering his eyes as he rolls them back, holding back from thrusting into the back of your mouth. He cries out at the feeling of you running your tongue on the underside of his dick, feeling his vein as your tongue moves against it. His abs flex due to his movements, his panting getting heavier and heavier by the second.

You like the heavy feeling of him on your tongue, and you start to focus on breathing through your nose more, taking almost all of him in your mouth. With your hands on his thighs, you start moving your head as you suck in your cheeks, wanting to see him break down. You suddenly hear and see him whimper, cute sounds flooding your ears, and it travels straight to your core. You see the way he closes his eyes, his eyebrows creasing close together, small scowl on his face from the pleasure, and the way he was building up a sweat just from getting sucked off. He looked good.

You relax the best you can as you try to take him in deeper. You feel his head hit the back of your throat as you slightly choke, eyes watering and throat closing down. He looks down at you as he moans loudly, seeing your eyes wet and teary, making them shine while looking up at him, watching, seeing if you’re making him feel good. Your hand lets go of one of his thighs as you jerk off the rest of what you can’t fit in your mouth.

You decide to try to deep throat him once more, taking him in all the way towards the back of your mouth, holding still once you feel his tip prod against the back of your soft tissue. Soobin moans and whimpers at the feeling of your throat constricting his dick, and tries his best not to lift his hips up, no matter how bad he wants to. “Ah shit, y/n…y/n feels too good, not-not gonna last like this.”

You ignore him as you hear his sounds, whines spilling from his pretty pink lips as you continue to deep throat him. You moan at how needy you were starting to get, and Soobin almost cums, holding back like he has been this entire time because there’s no way he wants it to end any time soon. He looks down at you again, and sees how you’re drooling now, eyes, cheeks and nose red, your eyes big and watery, your lashes stuck together from the wetness. You go as deep as you can, choking around him as your nose almost touches his pelvis.

This was the last straw for Soobin as he lets out a final moan and whine of your name as you remove yourself from him and feel his hot seed hit your face. You hear him continue to pathetically whimper as Soobin’s body is still tensing as he continues to come a lot, hot ropes of cum landing on your tongue as you stick it out, wanting to taste every part of him.

Maybe his body wasn’t bad at everything, you’d have to find out.

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try-set-me-on-fire · 10 months

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Ok well i had the brief thought “what about an ER nurse Eddie au?” and then this popped fully formed into existence so fuck it Friday pt 2.. warnings for smoking and vague references to critically injured kids

“That doesn’t seem very healthy.”

Smoke curls up from the cigarette held loosely in Eddie’s hand. “It’s not, particularly.”

Buck’s hands are in his pockets as he strolls away from the glass doors out into the ambulance bay where Eddie is doing the mature, professional equivalent of playing hide and seek. He comes to a stop barely a foot or two away from where Eddie leans against grimy concrete. “Didn’t know you were a smoker.”

“I’m not,” Eddie sighs, “Particularly.” He looks over Buck’s face as he takes a drag, cataloging bruises and cuts. He hadn’t been the one to look him over before he was discharged, probably because he was out here avoiding having to do so. “Only when it’s- only after the bad shifts.” And only once a month, even if the bad shifts come again and again. He bought this pack in January, it’s stale as shit.

Buck’s eyes follow the smoke as it drifts skyward. “Rough one today?”

Eddie thinks he probably doesn’t have to explain to Buck that it’s sometimes better when a kid is dead on arrival so he doesn’t have to try his best to administer care he knows will be useless. He doesn’t have to explain a day where nothing goes right and he loses more people than he can save and he still has to walk away from someone’s parent or wife or sister, left behind forever in a waiting room on the worst day of their life, and go on to lose the next person too. Doesn’t have to explain why he’s out here, and not in there. “Mm. We’ve got this repeat customer, always hate to have him back.”

Buck’s eyes flick to his face before they settle somewhere around his elbow. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. He seems like a nice guy. I worry about him. He’s here too often.”

Buck doesn’t look up. “What was he in for this time?”

“Minor concussion. Bruising. Lacerations.” Eddie sucks cancer into his lungs. “Heard a house fell on him.” Exhales it into the night.

Buck does look up this time, eyes a darker blue out here in the shadows. “Part of a house. Just a staircase and the- like, the balcony, really.”

“Maybe he should stay away from those.”

“From houses?” Buck asks, half his mouth twitching into a smile.

Eddie rests his head on the wall behind him. “Guess that’s not really practical.”

“No.” Buck is quiet for a moment, one hand slipping out of his pocket and running through his hair. Eddie wonders what he looks like, when he’s not here. He’s more styled, sometimes, when things aren’t very bad. He wonders if he’s usually all gelled up and neat. Eddie kind of likes the loose curls. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“Making your day worse.” Buck looks genuinely apologetic, and Eddie shakes his head.

“The guy made it out okay this time.” Buck is just close enough that Eddie can kick at his boot with his sensible orthopedic sneaker. “You didn’t even need stitches.”

“That’s good.” Eddie’s left foot is pressed along the inside of Buck’s right, and Buck is staring down at them. “His favorite nurse was on break. I would have missed you if someone else had to do them.”

Eddie laughs, just a few bursts of soundless oxygen. “You gotta find new ways to see me before something happens that I can’t fix.”

Buck moves, taking the few steps necessary to lean against the wall beside him. Carefully, he takes the cigarette from Eddie’s hand, holds it between two of his own fingers, and takes a drag. Eddie watches it happen like he’s monitoring somebody’s pulse ox, and when Buck coughs he laughs again, louder this time. “Fuck,” Buck says, laughing too. “Thought that would be cooler than it was.”

“Smoking isn’t cool, firefighter Buckley,” Eddie says, taking the cigarette back and pulling from it again between smiling lips.

“Hm,” Buck says, grinning out into the night. Then he sighs, and rolls his head along the concrete to look at Eddie. “I think there’s nothing you can’t fix.”

They’re very close. “There’s lots I can’t fix.”

Buck shrugs like he disagrees. “I also think I’d like to find other ways to see you.”

Buck’s eyes are even more in shadow at this angle, and they’re the color of the lake back in El Paso that he and a bunch of kids went to after graduation, drunk off beer somebody’s cousin got for them, skinny dipping with breathless terrified delight under bright constellations. “Then ask me.”

Buck inhales as Eddie exhales. “What time’s your shift end?”

“5:30 AM. So, probably 6:15.”

Buck traces the two fingers he’d used to hold the cigarette down Eddie’s arm. “You wanna get breakfast with me?”

“Yes. I would.”

Buck smiles, and Eddie snubs out the cigarette on the wall between them. “I’ll meet you here?”

“Alright.” He takes a step forward, then a step to the right so he’s standing in front of Buck. “Two hours.”

“Uh huh.”

He should really get back inside. They’re understaffed, as always, and there are too many patients, as always, and not enough beds, as always. “See you then.” He doesn’t make any move to leave.

“See you then,” Buck almost whispers. He leans forward, and Eddie still doesn’t move, so he presses a tiny kiss to the corner of his mouth for just a moment. His lips are warm. Eddie hadn’t noticed it was cold outside.

Buck pulls back and leans against the wall again. Eddie smiles, puts a hand in his pocket, and walks back toward the doors.

#my writing #fuck it Friday #i swear I’m going to finish trapped buck and Chris and work on proposal fic before i work on this more #but it would be a bunch of glimpses of Buck’s various hospital trips from Eddie’s nurse perspective #and maybe shuffle some events around? like maybe eddie still gets shot but by a disgruntled former patient this time and #so he does a stint in the maternity ward and buck shows up there #and Eddie is like you’re having a kid?#and bucks like no my sister is what are you doing here #and when buck gets the story he’s like fuck. shit. im sorry i wasnt there #and eddies like picturing seeing buck in that moment of violence and says im glad you weren’t #also Eddie could still be the one who restarts his heart after the lightning strike #this bit is maybe the last scene actually sorry for posting the end first #have a good breakfast boys #buddie #evan Buckley #eddie diaz #911 abc

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etchy-a-sketchy · 3 months

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Obsessing over this fic

Doodled this for it!

#etchy’s sketchys #fanfiction #not my fic #highly recommend it!!#genuinely brainrotting Over the idea of Bruce pulling out a wallet with a comically long picture roll in it #and its all his kinds and brandy and cute family moments #and jd without missing a beat pulls out a wallet #with an EVEN LONGER roll of picture and it all Rhonda #like #bestie I work at petsmart do you KNOW CAN YOU COMPREHEND HOW MANY PITCURES PEOPLE TAKE OF THEIR FUR BABIES?!#john dory #dreamworks trolls #trolls band together #trolls bruce #trolls john dory #pet parent vs kid parent fr fr

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manicpixiedreamcurl · 2 years

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Headcanon: Eddie cannot get over how he can make you come over and over just by rubbing.

Warnings: 18+ only, an inordinate amount of clit rubbing, overstimulation, mentions of a safe word but it isn’t used, we get right into it under the cut.

Word Count: ~1,580

"I love playing with your clit,"

You watch his hand between your legs in the mirror, mouth open and drooling.

The image of you, slumped against Eddie’s chest, is framed by posters and memorabilia in the space where his guitar would normally be. It's resting by your side on the bed where he'd left it before pulling you between his legs and flipping your skirt up. Your pretty cotton panties that he'd barely managed to drag down before getting at your pussy are still wrapped, wet and crumpled, around your right calf.

"Before you," Eddie continues, his fingers still rubbing relentless circles on your clit. The calluses built by guitar strings catch perfectly on the sensitive button, smoothed by the slick pouring from your cunt. "I thought it was this extra thing you could do to get a girl off while fucking her. Like when you get your tongue on my balls." Your thighs start to shake. Your grip on Eddie's forearm tightens but it’s like he doesn't even feel it, movements relentless. "But it's like, you don't even really need my cock."

"I need your cock," you protest in a quiet little whine. Eddie grins at you in the mirror. He grips your chin, tilts your head so he can lean down and give you a sweet kiss on your warm cheek. All the while, your body is writhing desperately against his chest and his hand.

"I mean, fuck,” he laughs breathlessly in you ear, shaking his head, eyes wide with amusement. “I just give this tiny thing a little rub," he changes his movements, back and forth at an angle, sending your hips flying as you cry out again, getting dangerously close to another moment of blinding pleasure. "And your whole body- it’s mine. Like you'd let me do anything to you if I just promised to touch you here."

"I would let you do anything to me, Eddie," you promise, voice getting higher.

"Not really my point, sweetheart," he says, smiling a little sardonically. "But that’s okay. This head was empty the second I made you cum the first time."

You groan, the little bit of degradation pushing you over, the sharp raw feeling of your clit sending pleasure through your cunt and the rest of your body. You smack the mattress at your side, nails digging into his arm but he doesn't fucking stop, just goes back to circling your swollen clit.

"Just like that," he breathes, grinding his hard cock into your back. "Fucking look at you."

You look like you're in pain. Your clit is raw with overstimulation, your legs tired from kicking and shaking. There's tears building in your eyes, blurring the image of the two of you on his bed. You can still make out his smile.

"It hurts,"

"Thought you said you'd let me do anything to you."

You whine. "I can't come anymore, Eddie."

He hums a little in your ear, eyes dark on yours in the mirror. He does that grin of his, really a cheeky purse of his lips, and tilts his head a little. "Well, you say that but, I mean-"

Eddie's left hand is down by his right now, spreading the sodden lips of your cunt open with his ringed fingers in a V. His right hand gives your clit a good slap, the sound of your wetness overtaking the sound of spanked skin. You wail, legs kicking. Eddie brings his own legs, still covered with his jeans, over yours, forcing them open with his calves tucked inside yours.

He gives you more quick rubs, your body tensing when he draws back, ready for the crack of pleasure-pain. He rains down quick little smacks. Your hips grind against his cock as your body tries desperately to get you away from the pain and towards the pleasure at the same time.

You cry his name, and come again with tears running down your cheeks, feeling the hot gush of wetness from your cunt, covering your thighs and Eddie's hand, leaking down to his well used sheets. They’ll smell of you, just as much as they do him, now.

Eddie settles his broad hand firmly on your pussy, not moving, just giving you the soothing warmth of him against your sore cunt.

"No more," you plead, turning your face to his chest, seeking comfort from the very person who'd made you feel so sore and filthy.

Eddie presses a firm kiss to the top of your hair, barely pressing the heel of his palm against the top of your cunt, but you’re so sensitive that the tears start building again. You sniffle against his chest and Eddie shushes you gently.

“I want one more from your little clit,” he tells you earnestly. “Just one more, sweetheart, I promise.”

Your quiet sob has him cooing, blowing softly to spread cool air over your heated, sweaty face. He lets you rub your cheek against the soft, worn cotton of his t-shirt, burying your nose against his chest to smell smoke and boy. “Cross your heart?” You mumble, tears still tracking. You look up at his big, doe eyes. Behind the mischief, they’re all love and sweet attention, making your heart flutter.

The hand that isn’t pressed to your twitching cunt draws a cross over his chest.

“Wan’ a kiss,” you say, feeling a little desperate for him, wanting some softness before you let him ruin you completely.

The kiss he gives you is warm and wet, tastes of Eddie-Eddie-Eddie. You mewl happily, settling yourself back into his broad chest. Eddie hums a laugh at the feeling of you relaxing in his arms. “S’fucking sweet,” he mumbles against your lips, pulling away. His cock twitches at the sight of the spit that connects your lips with his, and he cleans some of the drool from the corner of your mouth with his thumb.

You make to lean your head back on his shoulder, but Eddie’s shuffling both of you forward toward the edge of his bed. When your feet touch the floor, your body collapses, legs unprepared and shaky. Eddie hauls you up before you can hit the ground, one arm wrapped over your chest, the other your waist as he shuffles you towards that space in the mirror for the two of you.

He’s laughing at the unsteady steps he’s forcing you to take, cooing his faux apology with an exaggerated pout. “Eddie,” you say, worried by his intentions. “Need it gentle.”

He scoffs, presses his foot to your calf to get your legs wide for him, runs his arm up your torso to hold your skirt to your stomach. He’s patronising you when he says, “I know what you need.”

Eddie presses two rough fingers to your sore button, and rubs in long horizontal stripes that you can hear from your soaked cunt like stepping in a puddle.

His name comes in a long, pained sound. The edges of your swollen clit raw and protesting while he flicks it back and forth. You watch it all happen in the mirror, his left hand, ringed and broad, clasping the heaviness of one of your tits, the other moving in a pale blur between your legs.

Eddie’s gaze, wild and excited, is intent on that place. You can feel his cock twitching through his pants against your back, the subtle movements of his hips secondary for him, compared to making you feel this.

It hurts. It hurts, it hurts, it hurts.

You could get him to stop, if you wanted. Just cry red and Eddie would have you hauled up in his arms, lying back on his bed, receiving all the sweet kisses and praises your tender heart could want.

But you’d lose what he’s building you towards, what he wants so much to give you.

So you just beat your hand against his hip, your body thrashing and pushing to try and end this painful incline.

“Come on,” Eddie breathes, his soft hair tickling your shoulder. And that’s enough.

It’s numb. Your clit is numb, and then it’s burning and something snaps and it feels like it’ll never stop. The blinding, sickening pleasure concentrated in that one tiny spot that now rules your whole body. Your hole clenches wildly, the emptiness nothing compared to the euphoria of what’s happening at the top of your pussy.

Even as Eddie’s fingers slow to a stop, cupping the hot flesh, it keeps coming, peaks and troughs of tingling pleasure in your clit as if he’s still playing with it.

“Look at you,” he laughs.

You’re legless, leaning your whole weight on him, the relief that he’s finished overwhelming. You feel so good, sticking it out for him, letting him take you further than you thought you could go.

Only, Eddie’s thick fingers are circling your hole. When he sinks the longest inside, he has to tighten the arm around your waist to keep you, practically jumping to get away, against his body.

“You promised!” You cry, feeling the rough pads of his fingers rubbing deep in your gooey cunt.

“Said one more from your clit.” He smacks a kiss to the spot where your neck meets your shoulder, licks the sweat that’s built there. Eddie’s big eyes find yours in the mirror. “Now I want a couple from this perfect spot inside that makes you gush all over me.”

#eddie munson smut #eddie munson fic #eddie munson headcanon #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #allll the tags #this is short for me but all those pictures of his hands have me feral #my stuff

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