#not in the mood fic

[monzamash]

not in the mood — carlos sainz

carlos sainz x you (femreader) | 1.9k summary – grumpy uncle Carlos is struggling on the extended family holiday and you will do anything to shake him from his bad mood. rating – 18+ (sex, language, google translated spanish) a/n – i’ve decided to collate the sentence starters i got for each driver so that we can get a bit juicer and i can do a little more plot with the smut lol masterlist

You could tell from the moment Carlos stepped off his father’s sailboat that he wasn’t happy. It was a look you’d seen before – typically after a bad race or when the vintage car he’d been working on in his workshop wouldn’t start; infuriated and overtired, two emotions he wasn’t capable of controlling. The vein bulging on his forehead told you to keep your distance while he cooled off, leaving him alone with his own thoughts. Hopefully simmering down.

“Is tio angry at us, tia?” Little Edgar asked, tugging on your long sundress as he watched his uncle storm off towards the resort without a word.

“He’d never be mad at you, cariño…” You replied quietly and brushed the young boys curls from his face, encouraging him to go play with his siblings in the water. But the question had to be asked.

“What happened out there?”

Carlos’ father simply shrugged and threw the cooler filled with bait onto the sand beside his wife, “He gets so worked up over nothing – frustrated with me, frustrated with the little ones. Desagradecida,” He muttered under his breath.

Carlos never got upset over “nothing”. Sure, he was competitive and easily annoyed by small things, pouting to you that something wasn’t right in his mind but storming off a boat after what was supposed to be a nice afternoon with his father and nephews? That wasn’t your Carlos and you stayed silent, not agreeing with Papa on this one.

“Well whatever happened, I’m sure he’ll be over it by dinner.” You sighed, willing your words into reality for the sake of the holiday.

His mother nodded in agreement, knowing that her son was never upset for long. Thankfully she changed the subject and sent her husband on a mission to get her another cocktail from the beach bar. You took the break in conversation to return to your suite where you assumed your husband was brooding alone, probably grumbling to himself in the otherwise silent room.

And you were right. As soon as you clicked the door open, you heard it. The unintelligible Spanish that he always used when he was angry – quietly cursing whoever was coming to ruin his peace and quiet. But you didn’t care if he was annoyed by your presence; you’d been together for long enough to sense what the other needed, especially if something was upsetting them.

He would've done the same for you.

“Don’t throw a pillow at me. I come in peace,” You said, rounding the corner and surrendering your power with your hands up beside your face.

He looked exactly as you expected; propped up against the bed head, thick black rimmed reading glasses sitting on the bridge of his nose and his eyes trained on the book you’d gotten him from the market that morning. At first he ignored you, pretending to be completely immersed in the book he was reading. 

But the quick glance up in your direction was enough to make you smirk. The pout he had on his face when he breezed past you on the beach a few minutes ago was still there, shoulders tensed around his strong neck. The only difference now was that he was shirtless, gloriously tanned and looking painfully beautiful lying on the white linen sheets. You always compared him to a flawlessly chiselled statue, mouth-wateringly perfect in every way.

“You didn’t need to come at all.”

Okay, so maybe not perfect all the time.

“Well I came up because the boys were worried that they’d made you angry but I can’t imagine any scenario where that would be true…”

Carlos’ eyes snapped up to yours, his pout now a frown as he listened to your words. He felt a pang of guilt shoot to his heart as you sat down on the end of the bed, watching his brain tick over and finally realise the effect he had on the people he loved, his little carbon copies. He was Tio Carlos, after all. Their hero.

“Ay, they didn’t think I was mad at them?” He asked more as a question than a statement and you nodded – not to make him feel bad but because it was the truth. The bitter truth from the way his face dropped again, now sadder than before.

“Meirde,” Carlos mumbled under his breath, “I wasn’t angry at them – it was my father. He was shouting at them like he did to me when I was a boy… making them feel stupid so I told him to fuck off and he was not happy about that…” He trailed off, rolling his eyes with a huff.

“I’ll go down and see the boys soon but I just can’t be around him like this,” Carlos added and you understood. He was clearly fired up, fight or flight mode activated with the former winning out.

There weren’t many things that really got under Carlos’ skin but those kids meant more to him than anything. He was protective of them and seeing them being bullied like he was as a young boy triggered him – made him see red and although he was close to his father now, there was a lot of underlying problems that had never been resolved.

Obviously this was one of them but it would be a shame to let all of that pent up anger and aggression go to waste, you thought.

“Fair enough, honey,” You whispered and stood up, smoothing your long sundress out as Carlos went back to his book, “I’ll give you some space but I’m not wearing any underwear right now… Just thought you should know that.”

In true Carlos fashion, he didn’t even flinch at your words, not even a glance nor did he stop you from leaving at first. It wasn’t until your hand was gripping the door handle that you heard him yell out from the bedroom, “And where do you think you’re going then?”

His voice sounded hoarse, deep and tantalisingly sexy as you trotted back to where he was, now sprawled out on the bed and waiting for your return. The book he was seemingly so enthralled in when you left was still open but discarded as you crawled up beside it with a smirk, merely imitating the expression on his face as he watched you.

Eyes forever trained on yours, tempting you up onto his lap that he was patting. Your fingernails dragged along the exposed skin on his thighs that the short shorts weren’t covering, tanned and hairy. Strong and muscular, mind reeling from the things they could do.

Carlos was pouting when you leaned in closer to his face, telepathically sending signals for you to kiss him. It had been a rough afternoon but having you to take his mind of it well and truly made up for it. You smiled and pressed your lips to his, arms snaking around his neck as you settled onto his lap, letting the weight of the day melt into his touch.

His hands crept around your waist and naturally dropped lower to your backside that he was always mesmerised by. There was hardly ever a moment when you were alone that he wasn’t either touching it or gawking at it and you loved it. The attention, the physically touch – he had you wrapped around his finger, and him yours.

“Let your frustration out on me, baby.”

Your permission ignited something deep inside Carlos. A little spark in his eyes catching on as you pulled back and captured his stare, aroused by the darkness and the steeliness as he tugged you into his chest. He was groaning under his breath as you moved above him, stirring that feeling he couldn’t ignore and that you could feel between your thighs.

“Te quiero con todo mi corazón,” Carlos whispered as you reached up and removed the reading glasses from his beautiful face, peppering kisses all over his cheeks.

“I think you look so sexy in these but I don’t want to break them,” You confessed and he simply smirked as he lifted your hips up and pulled his shorts down, freeing himself from the tight material.

“I know you do, darling.”

You rolled your eyes and licked your palm before grasping his growing stiffness in your hand, delicately rolling your wrist to get him to where you needed him. It never took long and with all of the kissing and teasing you’d done to him all morning; Carlos was pretty much hard on sight. But you loved how big he felt in your hand and the way his eyebrows scrunched together when you gripped him a little too tight, a hiss slipping from his lips every time.

“Actually you look sexier like this,” You smiled and kissed him again as he started bunching up your dress, moaning as you continued to pleasure him, tease him. But he got you back, sliding his fingers through your slick and pushing two fingers into you without warning, jerking you forward over his shoulder.

“Oh my god!” You shouted, both hands now gripping the back of his head as he fucked you, knuckle deep and revelling in the fact that you were now on the receiving end of his pleasure.

“Shh, I can hear people in the other room, cariño,” Carlos whispered facetiously, voice taunting and secretly wanting everyone to know that he was the reason for your screams.

“Well don’t shove your fingers inside of me without warning and I would be quiet,” You snapped back before he hit that sweet spot, causing you to return to crook of his neck with a whimpering moan.

“Asshole.”

Carlos snickered at you waving your metaphorical white flag. He loved you taking control and that’s what you did once you sunk down on him, taking his thick cock all the way until you bottomed out. A low, raspy moan slipped from your throat when you felt him twitch inside you, hips snapping up in an attempt to get you to move.

“Don’t rush me, baby. You feel so fucking big… God, why do you feel so big?”

“Because I am huge,” Carlos shamelessly retorted, head titled back and watching squirming on top of him. You rolled your eyes and straightened your back; now feeling like you had a point to prove.

As you sat up, you pressed your hands to his chest, hips rolling achingly slow and taking full advantage of your position.

“Okay, with that kind of arrogance and the way you’ve been moping around all day, you’ve lost your touching rights, my love.”

You slapped his hands off your thighs and watched his eyes glaze over with lust, “Hands off.”

Carlos pouted and reached out with his grabby hands, “Ay, no, please. I have to touch you.”

There was a smirk tugging on the corners of his lips as he pleaded with you, and you could see right through his façade. Even with his unbelievably thick cock filling you to the brim, brushing against that spot deep inside you that would usually have you unravelling in a matter of seconds, you didn’t crack. Not even a little.

“Hands. Off.”

And with those stern words, Carlos simply laid back on the pillows and tucked his hands behind his head, watching as you gave him a show. He couldn’t have loved you any more than he did in that moment – for making him feel like his entire body was on fire and for remedying his bad mood.

You really were a miracle worker. And you were all his.

a//n – ayyyy, the first of the monzamash special! i'm so glad people sent in requests for carlos – he's so fun to write. the next one will either be charles or daniel so let me know if you have preference! and thank you all again for 700 followers x masterlist | askbox

#carlos sainz #carlos sainz one shot #carlos sainz imagine #carlos sainz smut #carlos sainz x you #carlos sainz x reader #f1 one shot #formula 1 #f1 smut #the monzamash special #monzamashmasterlist #mmrequested #carlos sainz fanfic #not in the mood fic

[museaway]

I hope the fic you are working on right now finds a reader who will think about it constantly for years

#fic writers #I'm in a MOOD #so let's spread positivity #self deprecating replies deleted

[emchant3d]

It’s the fourth time this week Eddie’s been late without a phone call.

Sure, his job has him working weird hours - Steve gets it. But he also knows his schedule and he knows the days Eddie works at the bar til close and he knows the days he’s supposed to be home before dark, and he hasn’t had a closing shift once this week. 

Yet he came home near ten tonight, and Steve had been worried and nervous and yes, sure, a little - a lot - insecure about it, and maybe he’d lashed out first, or maybe Eddie had, Steve doesn’t know, but he knows they’re standing in the living room shouting at one another and it’s all coming to a head and he can’t stop himself, can’t keep from getting loud and angry and–

"Do you even want to fucking be here?" he yells.

"Not when you're acting like this!" Eddie says, and Steve's throat goes tight like there's a fist wrapped around it. 

Not when he's acting like this, he thinks. Not when he's being too needy. Too pushy. Too demanding.

Something in his brain feels like it rewires. Their relationship flips on its head, and suddenly fear is coiling in Steve's stomach, not anger. 

He'll lose Eddie if he keeps pushing like this. If he demands too much of his time, pulls him away from what he'd rather be doing, makes himself too much work, he'll lose him. Eddie always said he wasn't going anywhere. That he loves Steve, wants to be with him, will never get tired of him. Steve was a fucking idiot to take that at face value.

He feels sick to his stomach. He wants to apologize, wants to tell Eddie to forget all about what he said, wants to show how sorry he is, but between one moment and the next he's feeling like a guest in his own home, and he's very familiar with how it feels to be unwelcome.

So instead he shakes his head. Eddie wants to be left alone, probably. Doesn't want to see Steve when he's mad at him. Doesn't want to deal with him. He'll make himself scarce.

"I'm staying in the guest room tonight," he says stiffly, and turns away, only faltering a little when Eddie mumbles 'what the fuck ever' behind him. He flinches when Eddie slams the front door and closes the spare room so quietly it barely even clicks.

– Eddie gets home late.

Like, late-late. Steve hears the front door open as he's staring at the clock on the bedside table, the bright red numbers burning into his vision. Why did they even put a fucking clock in here, he thinks. It's the guest room. Why did he insist on furnishing this room like someone might live in it? Like this was a home people would be in and out of, like their family would come and stay with them long enough to need an alarm clock on the bedside table?

Desperate, a voice in his head hisses at him, desperate and needy and full of wishful thinking that someone would want to stay around sad little Steve Harrington long enough to need anything--

Eddie's coming down the hallway. He's trying to be quiet, but he forgot to take his shoes off at the door and his Reeboks squeak a little against the hardwood. It's a familiar sound. Comforting, usually. It's how he knows his honey's made it home safe when he's out late, that tell-tale squeak and the little stumbles when he's tipsy and making his way through their home after a long gig.

There was no gig tonight, though, and Eddie's footsteps are steady and even despite the soft sound of rubber on wood. He isn't drunk, Steve doesn't think - and is that better or worse? That he left after a fight and didn't even go somewhere to drink it off. Where has he been, if not their usual bar to think about what they'd spat at one another, trying to think of solutions, of apologies?

And is Steve really owed an apology? He was overbearing. He was pushy. He was demanding and authoritative and too fucking much all over again, and Eddie lashed out in response, and does Steve deserve an apology after all that? He's been going around in circles with himself all evening about it, arguing in his own head, saying yes I deserve one because my feelings were hurt and no I don't deserve one because I lashed out first and how does he answer this for himself? He doesn't know.

He knows he'd do just about anything to make the empty feeling in his chest go away, though. Knows that he'd shove his hurt away and eat his words and apologize to Eddie and never, ever push again if it meant he knew where they stood. If it meant Eddie would forgive him and never storm out like that again, if it meant Steve knew he wouldn't be left alone like this to wonder if Eddie was coming back.

And he feels so dramatic - he can hear Robin's voice already, telling him it was just a fight, that there's no reason to get this worked up about it, but Steve can't help it. Slammed doors and loneliness are the soundtrack to his childhood and he can't help the panic he feels when someone he loves leaves.

"Do you want to be here?" he'd asked, like a fucking idiot, and Eddie hadn't said yes. Steve swallows around the lump that's taken up permanent residence in his throat. Reaches to swipe a hand over his face, rubbed raw, eyes burning with tears he won't let fall because what right does he have to cry? He brought this on himself. He always brings it on himself.

Eddie's feet are still squeaking their way slowly down the hallway, he's trying not to wake Steve - or is he just trying not to be noticed? Impossible, if Eddie Munson is in a room Steve is going to notice, how can he not? He's been yanked into that gravitational pull and there's no escape for him, not anymore, he's a moon circling around the solar system and Eddie is the sun, burning bright and pulling focus and what is Steve to do in the face of that?

He keeps his eyes fixed on the clock. Watches the display change when a minute's passed. Feels his heartbeat stutter when Eddie's shuffling, squeaking steps pause outside the guest room.

They keep a hall light on at night. It's on a dimmer, turned down way low, but neither of them do well with complete darkness. Too many nightmares, too many shadows haunting and hunting the both of them. Steve can see the muted glow of it from beneath the door.

He can also see when Eddie comes to a stop because his feet block that light. Two shadows in the doorframe, obscuring the soft haze of warm orange that creeps in a half-moon over the carpet, and Steve stops breathing. There's a soft shifting noise, fabric over wood, a gentle thunk when Eddie leans against the guest room door, and Steve almost calls out to him. Almost says I'm sorry, I didn't mean it, please don't leave again, please don't leave me, but the words stick in his throat. Ball's in Eddie's court, as it should be when Steve fucked up so bad, when he tried to ruin it all, when he made Eddie so mad that he left when he promised Steve he would never do that. Eddie's a good man. Keeps his word. Steve's the problem, Steve is always the goddamn problem, always will be, ruins and stains everything he fucking touches–

The shadow disappears. Steve squeezes his eyes shut so tight he sees lights popping behind his lids. Those shuffling squeaking steps continue their way down the hall. Steve feels like he's going to throw up but he didn't have dinner so there's nothing in his belly but bile and nothing comes up even though his throat is tight and his stomach is fucking rolling.

The bedroom door - their bedroom door - creaks on its hinges. Steve keeps meaning to put some WD-40 on it but he kind of likes that it makes a noise, that when he's asleep it's just loud enough to wake him halfway and tell him to anticipate the warm wash of tobacco and sandalwood that will cloud him when Eddie slips beneath the covers. Lets him know he's about to be grabbed and groped a little bit, sweet little kisses pressed to his shoulder and neck and jawline until he's got a face tucked into the curve of his throat, until he's giving a sleepy smile and winding his arms around a trim waist and dragging Eddie in close, sputtering and laughing tiredly as wild hair gets in his face and mouth before he falls asleep again, wrapped tight around the love of his life.

None of that tonight, apparently - and he doesn't blame him. No, he hears the bedroom door creak and it feels like a punishment that he deserves and his eyes burn and burn and burn and his face is wet now, he can't help it, and he wipes at it again angrily, takes the soft blanket to his face and why is it so soft why does Steve try so hard when he knows he won't get anything back why does he try to build a home when he's never had one and never will and is going to lose the one he's clawed onto so desperately and tried so hard to keep–

The door creaks again. Steve takes a stuttering breath. Eddie's steps are soft now as they come down the hallway, bare feet on the floor, almost silent as he creeps his way closer. Steve clenches his teeth so hard his jaw aches, anything to hold back the sounds he wants to make - he can't let Eddie hear him. He can't let Eddie know he's crying. That's manipulative, isn't it? Crying in front of the person he hurt? He won't do it, won't be that selfish, but that shadow appears at the base of the door again. Steve can't help the shaky inhale he takes, and it sounds so fucking loud in the quiet of the guest room, choked and echoing. 

"Baby?" Eddie says, voice low and quiet, rapping so gently against the door with one knuckle. "You in there, Stevie?" 

Just the sound of him is enough to send his heart crashing around in his ribcage, fluttering and jumping and making Steve tense. He wants to answer but he can’t get the words to form, his throat feels sealed shut, and he wonders if he should answer even if he were able because what could Eddie possibly have to say right now? It can’t be anything good and Steve doesn’t know if he can take it right now, in this room that makes him feel like a guest in his own home - but isn’t he always a guest? Isn’t that what he’s made to be, a temporary stop in everyone else’s story?

But he’s not ready for Eddie to move past him yet. Not tonight. Let it happen in the morning if it has to happen, let him put this off just a little longer. Just please, not tonight. Not yet.

But Eddie’s never been known for his patience, and the click of the latch has Steve slamming his eyes closed. Too late to roll over and hide his face, but he’s got enough time to duck down and tuck most of his features into a pillow. He tries to let his body relax, to let the tense lines of his muscles uncoil and his shoulders drop and his fists unclench, but he can’t tell if he’s managed it and the ache in his palms from his blunt nails tells him maybe he did, but it won’t help much.

Eddie makes his way across the carpet in silent steps, and the mattress dips with his weight as he sits on the edge of it. Steve’s fingers twitch to reach for him, but he just curls them into the sheets instead and hopes the motion looks absent enough to have happened in his sleep. 

He smells sandalwood and tobacco and feels the warmth from Eddie being so near but it feels like there’s a wall between them, one he can’t cross even if he tries, one he’s barred from so much as touching. 

He works hard to keep his breathing even but it’s hitching now and then despite his best efforts, shaky and too loud in the silent room, but he keeps up the charade even though the end of it all is perched right in front of him. And it’s Eddie who puts an end to it. It was always Eddie who was going to put an end to it.

“I know you’re awake,” he says, and Steve squeezes his eyes tighter like that’ll make it untrue, like he can just drift off in a second if he wills it hard enough. Eddie shifts on the mattress, and Steve curls tighter into himself. “Let’s just hash this out, huh? Get it over with.” Steve bites his tongue so hard he thinks he might taste blood. It’s that simple for Eddie - but it’s always simple, isn’t it? Cut and dry, plain as day, Steve is the only one who can never see it coming, it’s written on the goddamn walls for everyone else.

He risks peeking through his lashes but Eddie’s got his back to him so it doesn’t even matter, not really. Eddie isn’t looking at him and so Steve allows himself to look, takes in the hunch of Eddie’s shoulders, the curve of his spine beneath his thin pajama shirt - he’d changed, when he’d made his way through their creaky bedroom door, took off his clothes and put his pajamas on and kicked off those tennis shoes, they’re probably in a pile at the foot of the bed for Steve to trip over and he will miss tripping over them, he’ll miss it terribly.

He wonders if he’ll need to move. If he’ll have to find a new place and separate out all of their things into his things, if SteveAndEddie’sStuff will become Steve’s stuff and Eddie’s stuff. Or maybe he’ll just start staying in this guest room, maybe that’s why he furnished this room so completely, because somehow he knew he’d end up alone in it.

“I’m sorry,” Eddie says, and Steve inhales sharply.

“Don’t,” he says, and somehow he keeps his voice steady.

“So you are awake,” Eddie says, and he tries to sound teasing, sound playful, but it drops like a stone in this space between them. No room for levity in the dark cloud Steve’s filled this room with. He wishes he could be easygoing and let go gently, but it’s Eddie - in what world could he take losing him graciously?

“Yeah,” he says, and he stares at Eddie’s back as the other raises his head, but he still doesn’t turn to look at Steve, and he wishes he could at least look him in the face when he rips his heart out of his chest.

part 2

#steddie #steve/eddie #stevexeddie #eddie/steve #eddiexsteve #steddie fic #my fic #listen i was in the mood for steve whump and i won't apologize for it #don't worry there's plenty of eddie whump coming in part 2 i promise

[faiell]

inspired by a scene from 9 1/2 days by @magpiefngrl

‘Harry?’ Urgent, clipped vowels, insistent at his ear. A cool hand shook Harry's shoulder, hot breath played on his cheek, and the smell of lavender tickled his nose. Without thinking, Harry raised his head and pressed his face at the source of the lavender smell, inhaling deeply. Dawn’s fabric softener brought him slowly back to himself. He opened his eyes to see he had his nose buried in Draco’s shoulder.

#this is my fav fic currently #i left an embarrassingly long comment on it and haven't stopped thinking about it for months #drarry #drarry fanart #hpdm #9 1/2 days #doodle #i didn't draw the scene very accurately... harry's supposed to be kinda sitting ish on the bed? and their shirts are definitely more fun #just wanted to capture the mood :)

[rafeandonlyrafe]

orange peel theory (dark! and soft!rafe)

words: 1k (about 500 words each)

warnings: name calling, suggestive

orange peel theory: girlfriends ask their boyfriend to peel an orange for them, as a test to see if they are willing to help with small tasks that the girlfriend can do herself

dark

you quickly set your phone in a discreet spot, already recording as you move back to your chair, pretending to be reading your book as rafe walks in.

“what are you doing?” rafe questions, looking at you with concern, not sure if he’s ever seen you read before.

“nothing.” you shake your head, shutting the book and setting it down, glancing at your phone to make sure it is still recording. “how was work?”

“fucking tiring. dealing with idiots all day.” rafe spits the words out before toeing his shoes off and leaving them in the center of the room.

“im sorry.” you pout, standing up as rafe takes a seat on the edge of the bed. you move to stand in between his thighs, pressing a kiss to his lips. he sighs with satisfaction, wrapping his hands around the back of your thighs, rubbing over them, tucking his fingertips under your shorts to feel your bare skin.

“can you get me an orange rafe? i’m craving one.” you move away from him, setting back on your chair to make sure you are centered in the camera.

rafe gives you a confused look but nods, mainly because he also needs to get a glass of water for himself. he re-enters the room, tossing the orange towards you, which you catch easily.

“thanks.” you smile as rafe takes a sip of water and then sets it on the nightstand. ��can you peel it for me though babe?”

“what?” he questions, moving to kneel between your legs, an amused look on his face. “my stupid little slut not able to peel it on her own? too much of a baby?” “rafey.” you whine as he takes the orange out of your hand, unpeeling it and tossing the peel into the trash. he pulls a piece and then hovers it in front of your mouth.

“open up whore, i know how much you love to do that.” rafe taunts you before you lean forward, taking the slice of orange into your mouth and pulling it out of his fingers, letting the citrusy taste flood your mouth.

“you are so mean, this was supposed to be for tiktok.” you point out your phone, making rafe turn to look at the screen opened and recording.

“what?”

“for tiktok, its some trend about asking your boyfriend to peel an orange for you to see if he will do small tasks for you, and you totally failed!” you whine, stamping your feet on the ground in annoyance.

“but i peeled the orange for you.” rafe says with confusion.

“while also calling me a stupid whore!” you stand up, grabbing your phone and stopping the recording, knowing you won’t put it on tiktok.

“are you not my dumb little slut?” rafe asks, standing and stepping close to you, hovering over with his intimidating height.

“i mean i am, but-”

“exactly.” rafe cuts you off, pressing his lips against yours as he backs you up towards the bed.

soft

you quickly set your phone in a discreet spot, already recording as you move back to your chair, pretending to be reading your book as rafe walks in.

“hey baby.” rafe leans down and gives you a kiss on the top of your head, which you quickly tilt up to have him press a second one to your lips.

“how was work?” you ask, setting your book to the side, glancing at your phone to make sure its still recording.

“exhausting.” rafe sighs, rubbing his hand over his face, making you pout.

“im sorry bubs.” you comment as he sits down on the bed to take his work shoes off. 

“no big deal. how was your day?” rafe asks.

“good…” you shrug. you usually go into more detail, and rafe knows it, so he sits quietly, waiting for you to continue. “but i’m actually really hungry.” you blurt out, figuring you shouldn’t delay any longer as you look at your phone again, lucky that rafe doesn’t follow your line of sight.

“what are you hungry for? we can order delivery.” rafe knows you like to cook, but he also doesn’t force it on you, leaving the option to get takeout open whenever you are tired or simply don’t feel like cooking.

“i actually just want an orange.” you shrug.

“thats not really food, darling, but okay.” rafe stands, setting his shoes on the rack next to the door before heading out of the bedroom towards the kitchen.

you can’t help smiling at the camera as you wait, covering your mouth as rafe reenters, already knowing that he’s going to pass the test.

“here ya go.” rafe hands you a bowl instead of an orange, making your eyebrows scrunch together in confusion, before you take it and realize that the orange is already peeled and pulled apart, ready for you to enjoy.

“raaafe.” you whine.

“what?” rafe kneels down in front of your chair, placing his hands on your knees.

“i wanted a whole orange.” you complain, pouting your lower lip out as rafe looks at you in complete confusion.

“why, were you gonna eat the peel or something?” rafe laughs.

“no, its supposed to be a thing for tiktok.” you point towards your phone, which takes rafe a second to see from its hidden position. “you’re supposed to bring me an orange and i ask you to peel it to see if you’ll help me with a small task.”

“should i bring you back a whole orange then so you can ask?” rafe questions.

“no, i don’t even really want an orange to be honest.” you admit. rafe looks down into the bowl, taking a piece and putting it into his mouth, chewing it up. 

“what do you want then honey?”

“can you get me a banana?” you tilt your head to the side. rafe nods, grabbing the bowl from your lap before heading back to the kitchen.

you grab your phone and set it closer. “he’s just too good of a boyfriend.” you sigh as rafe comes back through the door, handing you a banana.

you smile at him in thanks, taking it out of his hand before he leans to press a kiss to your cheek, glancing at the camera, still recording when you realize how you can still test the theory.

“peel it for me babe?”

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

#i firmly believe that whether dark or soft rafe will peel that damn orange! #its just how much hes gonna make fun of you doing it lol #really these are the same rafe just depending on his mood that day lmao #rafe drabble #rafe cameron drabble #dark!rafe cameron #dark!rafe x reader #dark!rafe cameron x reader #soft!rafe cameron #soft!rafe x reader #soft!rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron fic #rafe fic #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe cameron x reader #rafe x reader #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe fanfic

[pink-andwhite]

ethan landry mocking you >>>

"oh it's too big baby? that's so cute." then proceeds to fuck you harder, making sure to shove that extra inch in there each thrust.

"too much? oh you poor thing.." wraps his hand around your throat and fucks you faster, definitely rubs your clit too.

"you're all done sweetie? that's too bad, im just getting started." proceeds to fuck you through 4 more orgasms.

#these are thot hours #help im not in the mood to write a fic but like i cant help but let a little blurb out #im thirsting over him so bad rn #its not even funny #ethan laundry 4 life #ethan landry is my new obsession thank you #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry smut #ethan landry #scream vi smut #scream dialogue

[inphront]

i think much of griddlehark's earlier childhood antics can be summed up as "gideon pokes wasp nest with stick, heat-seeking missile comes out"

#tlt #griddlehark #wrote that metaphor into this fic and thought it really did convey the exact mood

[lettersofalover]

-> two blonde bitches | mood board | head cannons

paige b x blonde!girly!sorority!college reader

paige b x blonde!girly!sorority!college reader

- people were skeptical about you from the beginning bc: sorority girl, flirty, party girl, and seemingly straight

- but paige was down bad for you & made sure the girls loved you

- whatever you wanted, you got it, even when you told her not to get it for you

- you were easy to love because you always had paige’s back & consistently took care of her without expecting anything in return

- kk is your baby & you would do anything for her

- late night cvs and target runs

- hungover mornings with tons of doordash

- kk says your her campus mom & takes her job as dd for you, paige, and y’all’s friends VERY seriously

- kk always stays the night after you guys go out & she loves to wedge herself in between you and paige in bed in the morning and just run her mouth & yap and force you to watch tiktok while paige complained the entire time

- the wbb team were always down to hang at your apartment because it was lowkey & not stressful

- the sorority girls who shared the apartment were funny & protective of the team & kept their business a secret

- football season? pregame & tailgating with you & the sorority girls

- paige wore an ‘i love theta’ button because she was always your game-day date, you would never take a frat boy

- basketball season? you were at each game you could be at

- always in a funny baby tee but paige’s fav was, “i love my gf”

- “bueckers #1 fan” was second with “fuck around and find out” as a third, especially for rival games

- you are always with paige and she was always with you

- monthly you cooked for her & kk & ice & azzi and had movie nights

- no matter what you needed, paige would drop what she was doing to get it to you because you do the same for her

- the utmost respect from both sides but always unserious and jokingly loving

- paige def said i love you first because she’s a sucker for you and thinks the world revolves around you

- paige split time with her family to come meet yours at thanksgiving

- it was private, not a secret but it was well known that she was yours and vice versa

just straight up certified lover girl behavior

#paige bueckers #paige bueckers fanfiction #paige bueckers fic #paige bueckers x oc #paige bueckers x reader #paige bueckers blurb #uconn wbb #paige bueckers social media au #paige buckers mood board #paige bueckers smut

[cheesecakethots]

i LIVE for the angst of a yandere initially being fucking awful to their darling after taking them, and overtime changing and becoming more loving, as well has having newfound and immense regret for what they’ve done. it is literally my fave yan scenario.

tw // pretty heavy angst, mentions of noncon

i specifically imagine it for shigaraki, going from being this disgusting manbaby who treats his darling like they’re nothing but a toy for him to use, only to later realise how much he loves them and mature in how he treats them, making his regret for the past even stronger.

him trying to coax his darling into coming out on a date with him - they can go anywhere, he doesn’t mind, darling has free reign to choose what they do. he tries to be so soft and quiet in his tone, as though not to startle them.

it’s only when tears start forming in their eyes and they mumble, “have i been bad?” that he realises how badly his past self fucked up.

the only other time he really took them out was when he’d decided they needed a punishment, and had made them stand and watch as he disintegrated the first group of people they saw out. he had then fucked them against the alleyway wall, bodies still around them both, just to really get the point across.

he wishes he could take back everything, but he can’t. as of now, he needs to take baby steps in order to bring you out of the very same hole he once caved into your mind.

(i love regretful yans urm send me some thots about them pretty please)

#i might write an acc fic on this #give me some angsty thoughts im in a major angst mood #justttt darling not being able to comprehend that yan is doing this to make THEM happy… #i can kindaaaa see this with geto too #going from treating his darling as some womb or toy #later realising she’s the last thing that keeps him the slightest bit grounded #post kfc breakup ofc #tw yandere #tw.yandere #yandere #yanderecore #tw noncon #tw: noncon #implied noncon #yandere mha #yandere bnha #yandere shigaraki tomura #yandere shigaraki #yandere tomura shigaraki #yandere tomura x reader #yandere tomura #yandere shigaraki x reader #yandere tomura shigaraki x reader #yandere angst #tw angst #yandere my hero academia #yandere boku no hero academia

[finniestoncrane]

Is That A Threat?

Cooper Howard x Fem!Reader, word count: 500 episode 4 really did something to me!! no spoilers for the show, just cooper and reader out in the wasteland together being filthy and flirty🤎 request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: teasing, rope restraints, just some tension loaded flirting

"Boy, you just aren't afraid of me at all, are ya?"

Cooper flicked the brim of his hat with a gloved finger, his deep set eyes meeting yours, squinting slightly as the unbearable glint of the sun obstructed his vision. Despite the jovial undertone of his words you could tell that he was, even slightly, put out by this fact. Fear was one of his strongest tools. It gave him his power, and he wanted to be able to exert that over you, even just a little bit. So you shuffled your feet in a false display of naiviety, kicking up the dry dust.

"Should I be? I mean... are you going to shoot me, Mister Howard?"

"I was more thinking that maybe you should be afraid of my demeanor, or at least my looks, little lady. But you should always be afraid of me shooting you..."

He raised the shotgun, pointing the barrell at your chest, winking as he aimed, his finger far away from the trigger.

"...That is a permanent source of danger."

With an eyebrow raised, you took a delicate step forward, everything else about the wasteland blurring around you as your attention focused on the ghoul who stood before you, casting a still and steady shadow on the wall behind him. It only moved when he shifted back a step, keeping the distance between you both.

"Is that a threat, Coop?"

"You’re getting’ to be awful Informal, missy."

"I think we're past formalities, don't you?"

You raised your hands, ready to grip the lapels of the tattered, leather duster coat he wore, but Cooper was quicker than you. In what felt like the length of time it took you to blink, albeit a slow and sultry one, you could feel the ropes of his lasso around your wrists, tightening, sharp on your sensitive, sun damaged skin.

"We ain't past nothin' yet, darlin'... not till I know you can behave the way I expect you to. Now can you do that?"

Sinking to your knees before him, you rested your fingers against the buckle of his belt, leaning towards him, mouth slightly open. But your attention was pulled from the tenting at the front of his dusty, worn pants as his gloved finger settled under your chin, tilting your gaze up to meet his, deep set eyes surrounded by wrinkled, leathery skin, worn with the sun and his deceptive age.

Knowing what he expected, how he liked it, you pulled what little saliva you had left in your mouth, sucking it from your cheeks and letting it spill out in a pathetic drop over your lips.

"That's a good girl right there. Won't have to punish you at all if you keep that up."

"That a threat, Coop?"

His thumb tapped the barrell of the gun on his hip.

"It is indeed, darlin'. It is indeed."

#two in one day fellas #the batjokes one had been finished for a while lmao #but i've been playing fallout for the past two days so i was in the MOOD lmao #fallout #fallout amazon #x reader #finnie writes #cooper howard #the ghoul #fallout fic #cooper howard x reader #the ghoul x reader #cooper howard fanfiction #cooper howard x fem!reader #fallout tv series

[monzamash]

Loved the new Carlos imagine!!! Please write more for him!

I love your imagines in general! You are a great writer :)

that is so sweet thank you 💗 i do want to write more for carlos so look out for that in the near future x

#monzamail #not in the mood fic

[my-names-angel-but-im-not-one]

*satan and Lucifer standing side to side*

MC:

Beel:

Mammon:

Belphie: *who put bleach in lucifer's shampoo as a prank , and now Lucifer also have blond hair*

Mammon: .....do you see the ....resemblance-

MC *speechless*: I do I do unfortunately....

Belphie: wait satan I can explain-

*Cue to satan and belphie fighting*

Asmo: funny how lucifer's hair got bleached but satan is the angry one~

*MC and mammon in their own world*

MC: guess who's the daddy now ~

Mammon: PFFFFT-

Lucifer:

Lucifer: is someone gonna fix this or not?

#i would love this #my mood is mc and mammon in their own world #obey me shall we date #obey me short fic #obey me gn!reader #obey me leviathan #obey me barbatos #obey me mammon #obey me mc #obey me #obey me lucifer #obey me incorrect quotes #obey me nightbringer yandere #obey me belphie #obey me beel #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me satan #obey me asmo #obey me asmodeus #obey me memes #obey me reader

[fanaticsnail]

when are you going to write the Sapsorrow fic 💀💀💀💀

Oh, you mean this one?

I'll just need to watch this to refresh my memory.

The Storyteller - Sapsorrow

"Whom so ever fits the ring becomes wed to the warlord who owns it"

Themes: enemies to lovers, arranged marriage, forced proximity, lord and subordinate, one bed trope, apprehension, mutual pining, obligation, slow burn, eventual love, protective, "where is my wife" trope.

I would love to give this a go. I gotta think of a playlist to hyperfixate on it.

(And Sis, I know it's you 💀).

Chapter Links:

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10 Finale

#mihawk #dracule mihawk #mihawk mood board #fic prompt #fic request #opla #one piece #opla fic #one piece live action #x reader #mihawk x reader #dracule mihawk x reader #mihawk fic

[flowercrowngods]

it’s steddie yearning hours

🤍 also on ao3

It’s a little fucked up, maybe, the way Eddie can’t seem to tear his eyes away from Steve‘s sleeping form. He’s a sight to behold — curled up on his side, making himself as small as he can; his hair is a mess, hiding his face from the world but not from Eddie, not quite. The room is dark except for the light of the lamps outside that comes in through the blinds, landing right on Steve, and Eddie thinks how fitting it is that Steve would be found by the light even in total darkness. He would be found and unaware of it.

And Eddie Munson is left to lean against the doorframe, arms crossed in front of his chest like that would save his heart, keep it where it is, keep it for himself. He shouldn’t be looking at Steve like that. Not when they’re hardly even friends, not when what they have is only remnant of a world ending. A world saved. A world forever changed.

He sighs, leaning his whole weight against the frame, clenching his fists in his t-shirt, doing everything to stop himself from stepping closer to the bed, running fingers through Steve‘s mess of hair, brushing lips to his forehead and climbing in bed with him.

The doorframe holds his weight, his sanity, his heart, and Eddie slides down with another heart sigh that the poets would have called wistful. Yearning. Longing and belonging.

He hits the ground and hopes that it would break the haze. But nothing can. There’s a heaviness inside him that makes it hard to breathe and leaves him wishing that Steve weren’t in his bed, in his heart, in his life. Not like this.

He wants to be friends with Steve. Real, actual friends. People who don’t have to hold each other through nightmares, people who go to the arcade together and make fun of each other. Who exchange their favourite tapes and go on trips together.

He doesn’t want to be bonded to him by trauma and horrors unimaginable alone. He wants to fall in love slowly, gently, wants the secret smiles and the fluttering inside his chest that he overheard the girls at school talking about.

He wants another chance with Steve. Another try. Without monsters, without death and dying, without saving and being saved. He wants Steve Harrington to choose Eddie Munson for who he is, not for what they went through.

He wants Steve to choose. To have a choice.

Breathing through a lump in his throat has become second nature to him lately, and he finally looks away from this boy that has yet to drop the other shoe on Eddie.

After who knows how long, Steve stirs, stretching with an adorable little groan until he stills, his eyes on Eddie. He can feel them. He doesn’t look up to meet them, can’t be responsible for whatever Steve would find in his eyes.

“Hey,” he hears, Steve’s voice incredibly soft despite the rasp of disuse that’s marking it.

Eddie shivers a little and finally looks up. “Hi.” A beat. You’re beautiful. “Sleep well?”

“Mm-hmm,” Steve nods, yawns again, then curls up some more on his side, scooting over to the edge of the bed so he can better see Eddie. “How long was I out for?”

Two hours, forty-eight minutes. “‘Bout two and a half hours,” Eddie says, smiling when Steve’s eyes widen. “There’s dinner. If you’re hungry.”

He’s holding his breath, shallow as it is, because his lungs cannot be trusted around Steve anymore. Not with the way he smiles every time Eddie makes dinner. Not with the way he hides said smile behind the blanket a little bit, like he doesn’t want Eddie to see, like he can’t believe he’s smiling in the first place.

Eddie wants to get up and hold him. Trace that smile with his fingers. Make it stay.

What are we doing, Steve? What are you still doing in my life? Why did you make yourself a home like it’s worth staying here?

Slowly, still a little clumsy from his prolonged nap, Steve gets up with the blanket in his hands and drops it on Eddie’s lap. Must have mistaken his shivers for being cold. Then Steve steps over him, ruffles his hair as he does, and Eddie wants to cry a little bit at the way Steve snickers at it. He’s ridiculous. Eddie is ridiculously gone for him. It hurts more than it should.

“You hungry, too?” Steve asks, fingers finding Eddie’s hair to comb through the curls he just messed up. Eddie doesn’t have it in himself to move his head, to put a distance between them, to confront Steve about what this is, what they’re doing, what it all means.

All he does is nod — slowly, so Steve’s fingers stay where they are. They do. Eddie pinches his own fingers to stop from reaching out and snatching Steve’s hand, bringing it to his lips, making him stay. Stay here. Stay in his life forever. Stay and never realise that there’s no reason for him to do that.

He meets Steve’s eyes even though that’s dangerous business. “Starving.“

Steve’s face does this thing again. That thing where he softens so visibly, his eyes shining a little, his lips twitching into both a smile and a frown. It’s mortifying. It’s liberating. It’s being seen by Steve.

“You didn’t have to wait, Eddie.” His voice is soft. Chiding and grateful all at once, and Eddie’s heart flutters.

“I know,” he shrugs, and that’s that because he bites his tongue. I wanted to. I’ll wait. I’ll always wait.

Steve huffs and then he’s gone, rummaging around in the kitchen before he reappears with two plates of lasagna in his hands. Instead of asking Eddie to come join him at the table or settling back in bed, Steve hands one plate to Eddie and then slides down the other side of the doorframe so they’re face to face, their thighs pressed together. It’s a tight fit, but their bodies are angled just so, making this as comfortable as it gets.

It’s one of the first things they figured out together, sitting in the door like this. Wayne comes home sometimes to find them like this, even joined them on some occasions. Just to talk, just to be there.

Steve reaches over to grab the blanket again, draping it over both their laps, and Eddie shoves a large forkful of lasagna into his mouth to stop himself from saying something stupid.

What are we doing? When does it end? When is the last time I get to sit with you, share my blanket with you, get you to eat my lasagna? Tell me; just tell me so I can prepare. Tell me you won’t stay so I can stop dreaming.

They eat in silence and Steve’s eyes are on him for most of it, but Eddie doesn’t look up. It’s heavier tonight, heavier than usual. Heavier because Steve’s cheeks are streaked with the imprint of Eddie’s pillow, heavier because his hair is a wild mess, heavier because Eddie wants to breathe him in and hold him forever.

But Steve is awake, and they only hold each other when they have a nightmare. Because that’s why they are in each other’s lives. There is no room for feelings, for romance, for yearning when their smiles only exist to keep each other alive.

“Are you okay, Eddie?” Steve whispers, his plate empty while Eddie barely touched his own, too busy not looking at Steve that he forgot to be a person in the process. It’s nothing new, really, but he’s gotta get a grip.

“Yeah.”

“Yeah?”

See, that’s the thing about Steve. He always gives you two chances to say something. The first try for all those impulse answers, the things you wish for yourself, the hand wave of dismissal. And then the second chance without judgment.

And Eddie loves him. Can’t lie to him again, so he just shrugs. His second chance not yet taken. Steve bumps their knees and Eddie’s eyes water. He eats his lasagna with stinging eyes and slightly shaking hands, because Steve can’t know. But Eddie might explode if he doesn’t.

“Wanna go for a walk?”

And, see, that’s another thing about Steve Harrington and the way he sees you. He knows Eddie hates being still, can’t talk when he’s sitting down. Can’t talk about anything meaningful when the world is quiet and dark and still.

Steve knows what Eddie needs. And it’s a little fucked up, maybe, but Eddie knows that Steve secretly needs it, too.

And he should say no. Should swallow his emotions, his thoughts, his fears, his aching and yearning and longing and belonging, should swallow it all and smile it away, bump his knee into Steve’s and propose they watch a movie together.

But he doesn’t. He can’t swallow tonight, not when there’s a lump in his throat, not when Steve is so warm against him, not when—

“Okay,” Steve smiles, climbing to his feet. “Let me go get ready, you finish your lasagna. Can I, uh. Can I borrow a sweater?”

“You know you don’t gotta ask.”

Another smile and he ruffles Eddie’s hair again. It makes his heart jump. “Thanks, man.”

“Of course,” Eddie whispers, barely audible, and not for Steve’s ears, just for his own need to say something. Anything. To make this real.

Ten minutes later, Eddie closes and locks the trailer door beside him and they start walking. The night is quiet even though it’s only just past eleven, and it’s a tad colder than Eddie expected. Beside him, Steve sticks his hands into the pockets of his jacket, fluffing up the hood of Eddie’s sweater so it covers his neck from the light breeze. Feeling Eddie’s eyes on him, Steve smiles and cocks his head down the street.

“Shall we?”

Eddie only hums but sets the pace. They’re both looking down at the ground, neither of them really caring where it is they’re going. It’s not about getting anywhere, it’s just about moving. Walking. Talking without looking at each other, finding excuses and answers in the night sky and the swaying treetops.

They walk in silence for a good half hour before Eddie finds his courage, his words, his peace with the possible answers. The night can cover for him and convince the daylight of little white lies that sound a lot like, I’ll be fine.

“You know you don’t have to do all this, right?”

Beside him, Steve’s steps falter a little. Maybe he didn’t expect Eddie to talk after all. “Do what?”

“This, I don’t know,” Eddie sighs, opening his arms to indicate the entirety of his life, really. “Sticking around. Staying.”

Steve frowns a little but he keeps his steps in sync with Eddie’s. That’s the whole point of their little nightly walks. No stopping, no looking, no seeing.

“Do you not want me to?”

God, how he wants Steve to stay! But also… Not like this. Not like he thinks Eddie might break if he leaves. Which Eddie will. But it shouldn’t be what makes Steve stay.

And there’s no way to say that. So all he does is shrug.

There’s a little pained noise from Steve, and Eddie scrambles for words that evade him, truths that make him too vulnerable, too real, too much.

“Okay,” Steve says after a while, and he sounds so small when he does. Eddie looks over and sees him pinching the bridge of his nose, nodding slowly, his mouth opening and closing with words unsaid. “Do you… Should I go home?”

Maybe you should, Eddie thinks. Get back to people you can be friends with; real friends.

“Maybe,” he says, slowing to a stop, looking away from Steve. “But I don’t want you to.”

“I… Okay? I don’t—“ Steve sighs and stops as well. “If it bothers you that we’re friends, then you can just—“

“Are we?” Eddie interrupts him, wincing at the way his own voice sounds. “Are we?” he repeats, quieter this time, opening up the question to honesty and vulnerability rather than disbelief and challenge.

Steve frowns again, confused, and Eddie remembers why they don’t do this in the quiet of his room; why they don’t do this while looking at each other. He can’t look at Steve and ask these questions. It’s too much.

So he turns and keeps walking, following the familiar road they’re on. Steve follows, a bit behind, and it leaves Eddie feeling horribly alone.

“You know,” Steve says after a while, scoffing, sighing, breathing until he tries again. Eddie waits. Here comes the other shoe. It’s finally there. “You know, I should be used to it by now, but it doesn’t really stop hurting when people keep questioning your intentions. With the kids, I kinda get it. There’s, like, years separating us. I get it when they’re hesitant to call me their friend.

“And with Robin, you know, she spent weeks after Starcourt just waiting for me to drop her. To be like, ‘Alright, thanks, it was good while it lasted but you’re an actual nerd and I don’t care for that shit at all.’”

Steve laughs and Eddie frowns, No laugh should sound so hollow.

“I had no idea she was so obsessed with the idea of me leaving her. She didn’t trust that I would stick around, that I actually loved her, that she’s my best friend and— God, she… I just, I don’t get it, y’know?”

Steve turns around because Eddie’s steps had slowed while Steve sped up, and Steve is walking backwards with his hands in his pocket, looking at Eddie with a hurt, confused expression.

“And now you’re telling me you don’t want me to stay and that I should go home, but that you don’t want me to do that either? You’re asking me if we’re friends, Eddie? What the hell else would we be? I’m…” He shakes his head and spreads his arms. “What do I have to do for anyone to believe me I just wanna spend time with them because they’re cool and I feel really fucking good being around them?”

Eddie doesn’t wanna look at Steve, but he can’t look away either. They’ve stopped again, a few feet apart, and Steve looks so open, ready for Eddie to answer, to tell him, to talk, when all Eddie wants to do is run away. Run to him. And he can’t do either. Can’t tell him.

“It’s not that,” he says lamely.

He gets to watch as Steve’s face scrunches up, crumbles, and then falls until there’s nothing left. His expression empty.

“I’m going home now, Eddie.”

“Why?”

Steve shakes his head and swallows. “Because I’m hurt. And confused. And I don’t wanna talk anymore, not when you don’t.”

And with that, Steve turns around. Walks down the road, disappearing into darkness until the next street light catches him. Attracting light even in darkness.

And Eddie breaks finally. He runs down the street, halfway catching up with Steve until he’s close enough to make sure the other boy can hear him.

“I’m terrified,” he says, making Steve stop. He doesn’t turn around yet, but it’s enough for Eddie to keep going. “I’m so fucking terrified that you only think you have to be my friend because we nearly died together. Terrified that you’ll leave because this thing between us is so heavy, loaded with trauma and memories. I’m terrified that you won’t come over anymore one day, that you’ll be done, that you’ll find friends that are not bonded to you like I am. Or like the kids and Robin and the rest are. I’m… Stevie.”

His voice breaks a little and he approaches Steve’s form, the light catching in his hair, making Eddie feel like a moth on his way to the flame.

“I wonder if we’re friends not because I doubt you. It’s because I know I have nothing to offer you. Nothing but, like, an open ear for your memories or open arms for your nightmares. Nothing but shared memories, which I know are only a fraction of what you’ve been through. That’s not how friendship works, Stevie, that’s not what will be enough in the long run.”

He sighs, rounding Steve until he’s in front of him, but Steve’s looking down at the pavement.

“I want to be your friend, Stevie. But I have this gnawing feeling that that ship has sailed.”

Steve shakes his head when Eddie is done. Says something he can’t quite catch.

“What was that?” Eddie asks, his voice tender, his eyes watery, his breath heaving. He hates being so vulnerable, but he hates even more the thought that Steve would just leave and think Eddie never cared for him.

“You make me dinner,” Steve says then.

He sniffles. Reaches for Eddie’s hand until he seems to think better of it. Eddie feels the emptiness, the cold air on his skin, and longs to be brave enough to take Steve’s hand now. He isn’t. But he thinks about it. He thinks about it all the time.

“You make me dinner and let me sleep in your bed. You make me smile and when I’m at work, I think about you sometimes, just to think nice thoughts. I don’t… There’s nothing you have to do, Eddie. You don’t have to do or be anything to be my friend. And I don’t want you around me just because you know what it’s like to drift off in your head, or just because you don’t question it when I can’t talk. I want you around because you make me laugh and you make me happy and if I could get paid for spending my days with you and with Robin, I would do nothing else in life. Because you, Eddie Munson, are good. And you’re enough. You’re a dork and a nerd and a fucking menace, and you’re kind and good with the kids and you’re a great friend. A great friend, Eddie, fuck!”

Steve is crying, but that’s okay because so is Eddie. Sincerity is scary, scarier than facing down the demo-bats, scarier than telling Wayne he’s queer, scarier than just about anything he’s ever done. But it also allows him to take Steve’s hand and pull him against his chest.

It makes him laugh when Steve sounds so frustrated when he says, “I don’t know why I’m crying.”

It makes him pull back and wipe away the tears from Steve’s cheeks, ignoring the ones on his own.

“It’s okay, sweetheart.”

He hums in surprise when that makes Steve lean in again, hiding his face in Eddie’s neck.

“I’m… I don’t know what to say,” he whispers into Steve’s hair.

“‘S okay,” Steve says. “That was, uh, a lot.”

Eddie laughs, feeling light and elated and a little hazy, the words still catching up with him, his limbs tingling with sensation just thinking about Steve thinking about him at work.

It does nothing to dissuade him from yearning and aching and longing to brush a kiss to Steve’s hair that is so close to him now. His hand comes up to the back of Steve’s neck, and the world slows down. Steve’s breath hitches, and Eddie’s heart jumps.

“I’m… I’m gonna say something, too, okay? Gonna try, at least. Stop me whenever, okay?”

Steve doesn’t react, but his hands begin to move in slow, minute movements along Eddie’s back. It gives him courage. Makes him dream.

He closes his eyes and draws in a deep breath. “I make you dinner because I like to take care of you. I let you sleep in my bed because… because it’s gonna smell like you. I like the way you smell. I make you smile because that makes me stupidly happy. Stupid, really. You make me a little stupid sometimes, Stevie. Because I want to be your friend more than anything in the world, but lately I also… I wanna climb into bed with you and hold you even when there’s not a nightmare. Just to hold you. I wanna tuck that rebellious strand of hair behind your ear just to touch you. I wanna touch you all the time, Steve. It’s a little crazy. Drives me crazy.“

He sighs and goes for the kill because they’re in too deep now, he can’t stop. Steve knows anyway, Eddie is sure, but he wants Steve to hear, too. He wants to say it. Wants to make it real.

“I wanna kiss you,” he breathes, and it’s too real for even the night to disguise it later. “All the time. And you should know that. You should know that maybe we can’t be friends after all.“

The words leave his mouth and he’s ready for Steve to push him away, to let him down gently with regret in his face and repeat his words from earlier, let go and go home like that would solve Eddie’s predicament.

But Steve doesn’t move from the tight embrace. Or, the doesn’t move away.

His hands on Eddie‘s back begin to wander more, leaving goosebumps along the way from his shoulder blades to his hips. His face where it’s tucked against Eddie‘s neck turns slightly until his nose connects with his collarbone. Steve straightens and his nose is replaced by his lips, connecting with Eddie‘s throat, his neck, his jaw.

And then Steve pulls back. Looks at Eddie with hooded eyes, hands moving from his shoulders to his jaw. Cradling Eddie‘s face like he’s something precious.

Eddie is holding his breath, tracking Steve’s every motion, not daring to move or even breathe too deeply lest he scares him off, breaks the spell, bursts the bubble.

Steve swallows and looks down at Eddie‘s lips. “What if I told you that I wanna kiss you all the time, too?”

“Then I would call you crazy.”

Steve smiles and leans in to rest his forehead against Eddie’s, breathing into the night, “Call me crazy, then.”

“You’re crazy.”

It’s the last thing Eddie says for a while before he tilts his head forward to capture Steve’s lips with his own. Steve hums and smiles into the kiss, opening his mouth to let Eddie in deeper, holding him so close there’s no room for doubts or regrets.

#steddie #steddie fic #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #idk what this is i was in the mood for yearning and a little bit of pain that comes with learning to be vulnerable #dio words #this is so long omg shut up dio

[rafeandonlyrafe]

breeding session

words: 1.5k

warnings: 18+ only! smut, somnophilia, kind of dubcon?, established relationship (theyre married), unprotected sex, p in v sex, fingering, breeding, pregnancy mentions

taglist: @drewstarkeyslut @thelomlisrafecameron @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @drewsbabygirll @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @jjmaybankisbae @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog

rafe hums the ending of the song that was playing in the car as he enters the house, tossing his keys into the tray that catches all the junk upon entering your home. he toes his shoes off, eyes searching for you.

usually you'd run up to rafe the second you hear the door open, greeting him with a kiss and asking him how his day was. you've been married for almost a year, and still feel the same excitement every time you see him, the spark of exhilaration that he brings out in you.

“baby?” rafe calls softly as he moves through the house, not wanting to wake you if you decided to nap while he was out golfing. he knows you get so sleepy, almost always around the same time of day, and while you manage to power through the tiredness some days, most of the time you succumb and end up taking a nap so deep that you are near unwakeable.

rafe looks for you in the living room before heading up the stairs, smiling to himself when he sees you lying on the bed on top of the covers, legs curled up as you doze.

rafe doesn't bother to quiet his footsteps as he heads over to give you a kiss on the top of the head, smoothing his hand over your hair. he knows how hard it is to wake you up during these naps, so there's no way some noises from him would pull you from your slumber. sometimes he worries even a fire alarm wouldn't get you up.

rafe takes off his golf shirt to change into something new, keeping his eyes on you, your small body on his bed. he frowns at your flat stomach, covered by a soft dress that you like to wear around the house due to the warm temperatures in the outer banks. you've been trying to get pregnant for almost a month now, currently with no success. you and rafe had what you expected to be a long conversation about the right time to have kids, but turned out to be very short when you were on the exact same page.

rafe sighs as he moves towards the closet doors to toss his shirt in the hamper, again turning to look back at you as he unbuttons his pants, shoving them down his legs. rafe thinks he spots something, kicking the pants away as he moves to the bed to inspect closer.

he crawls from the bottom of the bed to where you are curled up, letting out a low moan when he flips the bottom of your dress up, the flowy fabric moving easily to reveal that you weren't wearing any panties underneath.

rafe leans back to get a better view as he places one hand on your ass, pulling it upward to reveal your cunt to him, which was hidden by your thighs.

rafe instantly starts to swell in his pants, his eyes glancing between your flat stomach that he feels should be swelled with his child already, and your delicate cunt, such a gorgeous soft peach color that it's nearly irresistible to him.

rafe pauses to think to himself. you've made it very clear that you want to be pregnant, and surely he would just be doing his husbandly duty if he fucked you right now, filling you up and letting his cum take while you slept peacefully.

rafe gets off the bed to take his underwear off, not touching his cock until he's back kneeling on the mattress. he plants his hand on your ass again, your pussy looking delectable as his free hand grips his dick, beginning to stroke gently. 

he moves along his length until his cock reaches full hardness, rubbing his thumb against your skin to calm you, but you don't even budge, even as rafe let's out low moans, his hips pushing forward into his hand, fucking his fist faster as he imagines being inside you once you are pregnant, well and truly his.

rafe let's go of his cock before he cums too soon. he never had a problem with bursting early before you, but something about your perfect little body, something about your sweet innocence that turns him on to such an extreme amount. 

rafe keeps one hand holding your thighs parted and uses his other to rub his fingers along your folds. he feels your wetness start to grow, your bodies response to the touch, even as your mind is still in dream land.

rafe takes one slender finger, gently pushing inside your entrance, his cock pulsing when he feels how tightly you are squeezing his digit. he twists his hand so his thumb can rub over your clit. rafe expects you to move from this, at least readjust a little, but you lay perfectly still, eyelids not even fluttering.

“fuck, such a perfect pussy.” rafe says to himself, constantly impressed by how wondrous you are. he adds a second finger to your cunt, knowing he would usually work you with one for longer, but you are so relaxed from being in a deep slumber that he knows the stretch isn't painful.

rafe pulls his fingers out, tongue greedily licking your juices up before returning to your pussy. rafe questions laying against the mattress and shoving his face between your thighs and spending however long it takes you to wake up with his mouth licking your folds and sucking on your clit, but the need to fill you up, to breed you, is simply too strong.

rafe scissors his fingers inside of you, watching as your pussy opens up to accommodate him. he licks over his hand again to taste you, even going back to your cunt to swipe his fingertips through your folds, needing even more of your juices on his tongue.

he takes his cock in his hand, rubbing the head through your now slick folds, so warm from being squished in between your thighs while you napped. rafe presses against your entrance, moving slowly as to not wake you as he sinks his cock in.

you make your first noise since rafe came home, a soft little mewl as his cock bottoms out inside your cunt, but your eyes remain firmly closed.

rafe places both his hands on your hips, keeping you in the curled up position that he knows you love to sleep in as he begins to rock into you, not wanting to thrust too roughly pull you out of your nap.

rafe grunts when you squeeze your pussy around him subconsciously. he can feel that you are just getting even wetter, your body calling and craving him even as you are passed out.

he begins to move faster, but keeps himself from fully snapping his hips inside of you, hoping that allows you to remain at rest even while he gets himself closer to cumming.

rafe imagines you once you finally get pregnant, tummy swollen full and breasts heavy. he can't wait to make you a mom, to fulfill that dream of yours, and to raise the best kid. he knew the second he met you that you were the one for him, and he worked hard to get his life on track to meet your standards.

rafe moves a hand to your pussy, rubbing over your clit. he knows you won't be able to orgasm while sleeping, but he at least wants to make you feel good, hoping whatever he is doing is translating to what you're dreaming about.

rafe moves faster now that you've shown what you can sleep through, his cock moving at a blistering pace, leaving your cunt red instead of the delectable peach.

his cock swells inside of you, unable to hold back any longer. rafe can't help himself, looking down at you, his beautiful peaceful sleeping wife, about to get her cunt flooded without even knowing it.

rafe pushes his cock as deep in as if can go, pushing against your cervix as he releases all of the cum he possibly can, your cunt tightening around him, milking his cock clean as you squirm slightly for the first time, but manage to stay asleep.

rafe stays buried in you as he softens, not wanting to pull out yet and let any cum escape. once his breathing has returned to normal, rafe pulls out, his cock flopping down against his thigh.

he spreads your cheeks again, looking at your cunt as a dollop of his cum leaks out. he pushes it back in with his finger instantly, thrusting a few times to fuck it into you.

he flips the skirt back over your bum before getting off the bed and heading to the bathroom for a shower, smiling to himself as he feels like this was the time, this was the breeding session that would get you pregnant.

you wake up thirty minutes later, rafe still in the shower enjoying the hot water. you rub your eyes before stretching with a yawn, wondering why your cunt is so sticky.

#can you tell im in a marriage/breeding mood alfvdkds #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 #rafe cameron one shot

[temeyes]

when you're a ghostsoap stan, but have urges to self-ship with either of them

#song's “because i liked a boy” by sabrina carpenter btw lol #i've been trying to find some decent ghoap x reader fics the past few days and why are they mostly smut........ (if not + konig..) #so yeah.. that's why im mostly reading fics of them separately when im in the mood to self-ship haha (if u have recommendations PLS SEND #ok back to work bye babes #my art #2024 #call of duty #call of duty: modern warfare #call of duty: modern warfare ii #call of duty: modern warfare iii #cod #cod mw #cod mwii #cod mwiii #modern warfare #mw #mw2 #mw3 #ghoap #ghostsoap #ghoap x reader #ghost cod #soap cod #art #doodle #video games #sketch #fanart #digital art #digital drawing