#I’m sick y’all I love him
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When you realize it, Tim was never the other woman— it always has been Lucy.
#even after a 3 decade situationship Hawk had always gravitated to Tim because he literally could not survive without him (fire island arc)#while he only came back to Lucy for necessity#imagine though.#your own fkcin wife is the other woman#goddamn- sorry ya’ll I’m a Lucy apologist all throughout my girl deserved her own RIGHTS#she done got sht on for the entirety of the show lmfaooooo#i could literally ramble on about this topic for days on end#i will genuinely fist fight anyone who thinks Lucy is the villain of the story.#and to think that she might have never even had reassurance that Hawk ever loved her in the first place-#I’m sick.#she’s actually stronger than god for going through all she did.#and as much as I love Tim and think he absolutely didnt deserve any of it either#Lucy is actually such a tragic character she’s absolutely perfect for a character study#anyways#brain rot hours methinks#fellow travelers#fellow travelers brainrot#I’m so eepy y’all sorry for this-
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‘Au Damian steals his siblings bc Damian doesn’t value them enough’ Damian doesn’t owe these niggas shit
#it’s giving I read fics and WFA#daily reminder Damian immediately called the failed cloned versions of himself his siblings#like he’s a compassionate kid I’m tired of fandom and canon both doing the ‘Damian learns to love 🥺’ shit over and over and over again#and instead of being seen as the stagnant repetitive character development it would be for any other damn person#it’s presented as like a flaw to his personality#and it’s one thing if it was SUPPOSED to be but we know it’s not bc every single time they go ‘damian is friendless’ and ignore maya and#Suren#like if u wanna ignore his original tt team fine whatever but he very much has made friends and stayed on good terms with them#even IN Gotham Colin maps and Marcus#like it’s so obvious that they’re just pressing rewind every single time bc they completely ignore everything before#and sidebar very sick of artists making Damian look like a tim clone rn but it’s not lost on me that y’all are starting to like him more#especially now that he’s in Bruce’s good graces without them acknowledging how fucked up Bruce is towards him ALL the time#like they’ll go ‘father can be overprotective and suspicious 🥺 but it’s justified bc I’m evil’ and move on#I’m sick of it
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Whatever!!!!! Another Shane head canon cause I feel lousy!!!
When the farmer is Ill, be it physically or mentally, Shane becomes the most devoted man you’ll ever meet. However… there is a catch.
He’s not very good at knowing, how to take care of them. He figured it would be like taking care of Jas when she was sick, but then again… Marnie was usually on top of that too. If anything, it seemed like she only trusted him to entertain Jas rather than nurse her back to health.
Still, Shane took pride in all of those mucasy, cough ridden giggles. So he applied the same techniques.
Unfortunately, it wasn’t always a hit with the farmer. Some days they didn’t want his silliness, others they begged him to make them smile for one gosh darn minute.
He didn’t mind this.
He was the same.
Oh Yoba knew he was far worse when he was ill. Though, to be fair, he did want to kill himself a lot of those times.
Things were better now though, and he was happy to be alive.
And he was happy to be the one to help.
So Shane doted on the farmer. Nothing was too much of a request. If he couldn’t do it, he would learn how to. Luckily, the farmer was a generous person and, if they were up to the task, would teach Shane how to care for them properly.
And so Shane, a giant teddy bear of a man, became the caregiver he always hoped that he would have in his darkest times.
And at the end of the day…
Sometimes…
Being held was his own treat.
#stardew valley headcanons#sdv shane#shane sdv#shane stardew valley#stardew valley shane#😭 my husband#i hope this jumbled brain thought makes sense#mys loves being entertained when she’s sick#but she DOES have days where she just lies down and stays down#shoutout to my period havers#I’m having that period so hard rn#anywyas y’all know how mys treats him when he’s sick she’s a literal angel#UPDATE: Shane replicated what the farmer did for him 😭😭😭😭😭#myshane♥️
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When I was a kid my mom wouldn’t let us watch SpongeBob cause it “destroyed your brain cells”. I was instead raised on tv like Scooby Doo, Doctor Who, Robin Hood, Avatar the Last Airbender, and Star Wars. These taught me things like: humanity is capable of great compassion and mass atrocities, the rich and powerful care for none but themselves and will doom the world in the long term if it means they benefit from the short term, fascism bides its time in a politician’s smile, just because someone is born different doesn’t mean they were born wrong, standing up to oppression is always right, it is always morally correct to rebuke laws created from injustice, knowledge is important but not everyone will teach the truth.
As a result I read/listen to audiobooks/lectures often, I do everything I currently can to stand up to injustice, I don’t platform shitty people, I do my part in helping keep folks and the earth safe (i.e. masking), amongst other things
My mother however praises the rich, platforms grifters, takes the “both sides” approach to almost everything, and thinks masking leads to mass violence
My only conclusion to this is that she stayed up every night watching SpongeBob and idealized Mr krabs’ work ethic
#she used to be so smart#and then Covid happened and she lost every single brain cell she had I swear#she’s gotten it 5 or 6 times now#she will purposely get my little siblings sick with it cause ‘herd immunity’#she doesn’t care that I’m disabled and live with my elderly grandmother with an auto immune disorder#she praises musk rogan and peterson#idk what happened y’all#sometimes she’s okay and then sometimes she’s pushing for me to watch the most disgusting transphobic shit#she started using they/them pronouns for me only after I dropped them and solely used he/him#but she’ll victimize the fuck out of herself if I call her out on it#I still love her but fuck is it hard remaining in contact sometimes
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Cass is not a human lie detector…
#want to stab every story where cass is only there to be like ‘I looked at him he’s telling the truth’ and nothing else#she is still figuring out how to read her own emotions much less everyone elses#she’s extremely skilled don’t get me wrong I’m not saying she could never figure out any tells#but y’all David Cain lied to & manipulated her since she was born why would she not have at least a slightly messed up perception of reality#she is not an omniscient being & either way it’s weird to just use her as a lie detector#she is super insightful but sometimes she literally does not know what’s going on or what things mean & she can be totally wrong abt things#that actually makes her more fun and interesting#also there is no tell that perfectly translates only to telling the truth or lying#and she can do WAY cooler stuff then detect lies. she can dodge bullets :)#and she is sooo perfectly suited for jumping in front of too fast bullets to save her loved ones ooops#<- she thinks that is a good thing they do not agree ❤️#welll don’t mind me I am sick & thinking abt cass 2night. i love herrr#cassandra cain#heroesriseandfall
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I love ikemen prince but there’s that one suitor when he shows up I get irrationally angry and just speed click through it until he’s gone.
#ikemen prince#I cannot stand him dude everything about him sucks#I’m so sick of his archetype and his route style#I’m not trying to hate on those who love him#I’m glad y’all love him#I’m sure people hate the guys I like#but MAN when you abhor a certain dude and he shows up nonstop it’s infuriating#I left the name out purposefull#because I don’t want anyone in his tag think I’m trying to ruin their fun
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y’all don’t think about the potential of Stan and cartman like I do
#downright insane together I love them#crazy4crazy type sh-t except it’s friendship#I don’t think you guys realize how crazy Stan can be when it comes to personal stuff#and I don’t think you realize how much cartman would indulge him#and actively agree with him#they’re a force to be reckoned with#South Park#text#my stuffy stuff#I’m also sick of y’all pretending they’re not friends#I know the show itself kinda sucks at portraying their friendship but come on#Stan and cartman are an iconic underrated duo#by underrated I mean the show itself doesn’t see their potential half the time#and the fandom ignores it in general
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I wanna reread aftg 1-3 now but I am so so scared it’s not gonna…. Feel the same as it did when I first read it, even tho I’ve been waiting a couple years to read it again (last reread was 2022).
And like. I know it can never hit the same way it did that first time, the way it settled into my bones and rewrote me.
But I’m forever gonna be chasing the high of reading The King’s Men at one am and then feeling like I’m being hugged on the inside of my lungs as I try not to cry.
#very much so#tfc#sorry y’all I’m in my feels over them again#every time Neil was on the page during tsc I was so happy!!! that’s him!! that’s my guy!!!#Neil is my favorite character of all time#ugh……#he’s such a sick I love him so much#spoilers for tsc: when he told the fbi agent that it was illegal to park in front of the hydrant I started kicking my feet and giggling#I’ve missed him so much and Neil from Jeans pov is so so good cause Jean is so fucked up as well but he still thinks Neil is fucked in the#head and he’s right but he’s wrong in the way he is right ya know?#ugh.#I did love tsc but as predicted I am just missing Neil so much
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Genuinely gonna cry cause I saw the most disgusting thing ( literally what’s new I get new traumas at least once a day LMAO )
#I’d rather watch gore#than see this#SOB SOB SOBBBB#ik I was saying stuff like girl kaveh we are married bla bla bla etc redacted + etc for good measure but today I realise I don’t mean that#because I feel like crying#I think I proved to myself none of this is very comfy no matter the gender LMAO anyways me and girl kaveh are still married I’ll just cry#as much if kaveh was a boy too as well as if he’s a girl 🤷♀️#astaghfirAllah I’m so annoying this makes no sense to you guys but I am in shambles 😭#dora daily#the “you guys” are the guests in my head the voices 😔🖤🥀⛓️💔#I was like in the past I might’ve been a tad fruity but turns out I was just traumatised and also I hate everyone equally#THIS REMINDS ME today my grandpa (😾) answered my dads call and I rolled my eyes so far back I saw my optic nerve#so cue covering my face as my dad was shoving the phone on my face while I was being verbally harassed into saying hi (I don’t wanna say hi)#so then my dad explains that I’m not an affectionate person and I dislike love because I don’t kiss him (firstly even if he was a normal man#I wouldn’t do it) and he went on to say I don’t even let my mum kiss me etc etc because I hate it#not only that it’s just I’m so sick of them all man 😭 I’m okay with hugs it’s just nothing I feel particularly inclined to#like I’ll do it if it’s expected but I’m like I dunno I wouldn’t feel an undying urge to ???#and then my grandpa was like the shocked pikachu face#yeah like I am never kissing anyone on the cheek all I want is to be left alone 😭#my dads shock when he realises I do in fact hate love when I’m 50 and unmarried#I can’t believe he as a man knowing what men are like expects me to want a guy#barf#and don’t get me started on how men talk about women like they’re in a cult and women are trading cards#like do they not get jealous 😭 whyre they like good on you bro you scored etc etc#I’m not explaining this right but I hope y’all get what I’m trying to say#damn fellas this one was a touch long#my apologies
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I am begging the The Bear fandom community to not ship the only single female character with the only men who are absolute trainwrecks and at least 10 years older than her on the show.
Ideally, don’t ship anyone, but that’s just me. But if you’re gonna ship somebody ship her with the only person she hung out with outside of work. Or ship the cupcake dude with the roommate. Maybe don’t ship her with the dude that literally called her a “baby” bc of her age.
#sam speaks#the bear#not trying to start any fights just wanted to make a statement#I just finished season 1 so maybe something happens later but I’m sick of romance in shows wheeee it doesn’t need to be#we just went a whole season with zero romance and my ace heart is soaring#I know it’s in tumblr dna to ship the people and write smuts about them but I beg not her and him or him#I’m surprised y’all aren’t shipping carm and the best friend together tbh#edit: I blocked the tags but still#with peace and love I will be a hater but in a chill way where this is the only post I make about it
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Busted and Blue 。𖦹 ⋆。
Pairing: Boyfriend!Rafe Cameron x Girlfriend!Reader
It’s the annual kook halloween party, so of course you’re going to let loose with your friends! If only you proceeded with more caution like your boyfriend wanted..
Wc: 3,727
Hurt + comfort, protective Rafe, SUPER creepy guy harasses reader n grabs her :(( soz
An: Hey chat 😈 I would’ve gotten this out sooner if I could, but ofc i’m super sick (i think i have the flu somehow? 😭) But anywho, I hope yall enjoy this cause i lowkkk had this sitting unfinished in the docs since late september..🌚
Not proofread I fear (cause when do I ever guys)
Feedback always appreciated n welcome! Also send halloween/fall requests guys I wanna hear from y’all! :3 <33
“Y’ready, puddin’?” You turn to your boyfriend, Rafe, while adjusting the ears resting upon your freshly styled hair.
Rafe smirks at you, “‘M ready when you are.”
You grab your wallet off of your nightstand, alongside your keys, and stick them into Rafe’s jacket pockets.
Rafe grabs you by your waist, stepping closer to you, making sure he doesn’t accidentally step on your furry boots, and leaving an airy kiss onto your lips. He knows you’ll pout if he messes up your gloss and lip liner.
“Let’s go!” You cheer excitedly, gripping the golden haired boy’s arm and pulling him along. Rafe chuckles at your enthusiasm.
But before the two of you can pass the door’s frame, you abruptly stop walking, and let out a yelp.
“Wait!”
“Jesus Christ! What?” Rafe shouts out, purely in concern.
Due to you stepping into the bathroom, he can barely see you. But he sees you reach for something off of the sink.
You practically skip over to him giggling. “I almost forgot, Ray!”
You wave a container of face paint in front of his nose. You’re bouncing in your spot, making him grip your hips still.
“Y’scared me, sweet girl.”
You pout at this, but your frown quickly turns into a smile when you open the lid of the container.
“Mhmm. Sorry Ray. But your costume’s not complete without it!”
Rafe is sporting a camo fleece jacket, with matching baggy pants, and some dark boots. He’s wearing a camo beanie too, which covers his delicious buzzed hair.
He has a prop gun sitting in his waistband.
And last but not least, Rafe was letting his facial hair grow a bit for this exact day, per your request.
Instead of being cleanly shaven, his scruff was coming in, and the sight nearly made your mouth water.
But that’s besides the point, tonight was the annual Obx Halloween party, thrown by both Kelce and Topper at their shared house alongside a few other kooks as well.
If you didn’t know any better, you would’ve thought it was a fraternity, but honestly, it wasn’t really far from one. Every day you wonder why their parents decided to fund it, but that’s besides the point.
Every kook attends this party every year, and some pogues would come too.
Did this cause a few problems? Absolutely, but at least it’s a bit more civilized than it was years prior.
With the party, there’s a costume contest, you even went out of your way a few years back to make a cute ballet box. Although, last year you had to make a new one, due to one partygoer accidentally crushing it against the table it rested on during a drunken fight.
You were pissed, to say the least, you spent the rest of the night sulking, and Rafe nearly punched the kid, despite him already suffering from a beating. He hated seeing you upset.
But every year, for 3 years in a row, Rafe and you would win the ‘Best Couples Costumes’ competition.
Last year, it came close, but everybody loves a classic, and you knew two measly pirates weren’t going to beat Flynn Ryder and Rapunzel.
And this year, you knew that you both were going to win again, your deer costume was just the cutest!
You’re holding Rafe’s face, specifically holding his cheeks with your thumb and index finger. You squish his face a few times cheekily, before applying the black face paint onto his cheeks.
You drag the brush down, lightly tickling Rafe’s slightly rosey cheeks, he’s trying not to react, you can tell. You find it cute.
“Okay! Now we’re good to go!” You clap your hands together with a giggle, Rafe swears he falls harder for you every single day.
You intertwine your hands with his, then head to Rafe’s car.
Rafe opens your door before you can even reach for the handle.
“Wowww,” you drag out, “Aren’t you a gentleman?”
He side-eyes you, leaving you cackling as he rounds the car to the driver’s side.
After walking through the front door of Kelce and Topper’s house, you’re immediately greeted by several people, some of your friends, some of Rafe’s.
You’re holding your boyfriend’s hand tightly, tip-toeing in while responding to all of the ‘Hey Dollie!’s and the ‘You look so cute Dollie!’s.
You drag Rafe into the kitchen, blabbering on about how you “need to find a smirnoff or else you’re going to collapse”.
Topper and Kelce spot Rafe, they rush over and start patting him on the back.
“Ayeee, howdy Rafe! Glad you finally showed up!”
They’re both dressed up as cowboys, their forced country accent makes you giggle.
Kelce notices you before Topper does, he instantly grins.
“Howdy there, Miss Dollie! Look at you!” You beam brightly, taking pride in your costume.
“A deer and a hunter? How cute, I think someone’s gone soft.” Topper raises his eyebrows in a teasing manner. He always talks about how “Rafe’s gone soft”, because years ago, if a girl asked if he wanted to wear matching halloween costumes, he would’ve laughed in her face.
“Shut the hell up Topper.” Rafe practically barked at him.
You walk over to the fridge, looking for your beloved smirnoff. Topper coos at Rafe, while Kelce makes kissy faces at him, making you laugh at their antics.
You hear a squeal behind you and you whip your head around.
There in front of you, is none other than your [basically almost] sister-in-law, Sarah Cameron.
“Oh my god, Dollie!! You look so cute!” She barrels into you, and you stumble back.
After you two talk for a bit, she drags you away, telling you how she wants to show you something.
You look back at Rafe, who looks a little apprehensive about letting you roam without him.
It’s not that he didn’t trust you, and he definitely wasn’t one to completely baby you, but he didn’t trust others.
There are some sleazy kooks here, ones that act how he used to, and that nearly sent a shiver up his spine at the thought of you being subjected to being around anyone like that.
He wants to protect you, he needs to.
It’s his job as your boyfriend.
Your future husband.
Anything can happen at a party, especially if you're not in his eyesight.
But you gave him a look of reassurance. Your eyes convey a message, almost as if you’re saying “It’s going to be okay” to him personally.
He holds your gaze for a few seconds longer, he looks uncertain, but eventually, you’re lost in the wave of bodies.
“Dude, you act like she’s gonna disappear or something, she’s only gonna be gone for a little bit.”
Topper’s statement makes Rafe turn back and glare at him.
He says nothing, instead, he goes to the fridge to grab a beer.
He knows he can only drink a few, since he’s going to be driving back home tonight. And you sure as hell aren’t going to let him drive if he’s even a bit tipsy.
…Even if that means you have to drive in the dark, which is hard for you to see in.
That’s one of the things that Rafe loves most about you. You’re so attentive. It’s new for him.
The two of you have been dating for years, coming up on four, to be exact.
But Rafe doesn’t think he’ll ever truly get used to the feeling of your love, and your warmth.
Rafe truly wonders if there’s an off-switch on Topper and Kelce.
They’ve been talking about a whole bunch of nothing and quite frankly, it’s starting to piss him off.
He knows you’d hate it if he was too busy worrying about what you’re doing rather than enjoying his time at a party with his friends.
It’s been an hour of non-stop chirping in his ear, and Rafe’s been nursing his second beer for the past 20 minutes.
“Yo, Rafe. Did your girl ever bring the costume ballot box in?” Kelce asks, touching his beer bottle with Rafe’s, making a sharp ‘clink’ noise.
Rafe groans, “Aw shit man. I'll go get it.” He rubs his hand over his face.
And with that, Rafe is trekking through the house towards his car, but not without pushing a few people out of his way.
Kelce snickers alongside Topper, who is growing agitated by his so-called girlfriend’s pestering, and finishes off his 5th-or-so beer.
Kelce hears a whimper from behind him, and quickly shoots around to see you: wobbling in your shoes, with your legs pressing together slightly. He can tell you’re already drunk.
“What’s up, Dollie? You okay?” Kelce rests his hands on your shoulders, aiming to keep you steady.
Your glossed lips remain in a pout, “Have you seen Rafe? I gotta go to the bathroom ‘n he told me to tell ‘em when I gotta.”
“He jus’ went to his car to get the ballot box. I can take you if you want though.”
“Oh pretty please, Kelce?” You’re speaking so urgently, Kelce can barely understand you.
But that doesn’t matter, cause he makes you hold his arm so you don’t get separated from him while he walks you to the less-crowded bathroom upstairs.
When you get there, you quickly unwrap your arms from Kelce’s bicep and rush out a ‘thank you so so much, Kelcey’. Which makes him chuckle, knowing that Rafe would mope if he heard it.
It’s been 10 minutes, and Kelce grows a bit worried. He’s confused as to why it’s taken you so long.
“Hey uh, Dollie? You alright in there..?” He questions as he knocks his finger on the door.
“Mhm! Jus’ tryna…Button m’damn shorts.” You slur, and Kelce hears your heavy footsteps through the door.
Kelce hears you murmur ‘Dumb fuckin’ nails…Won’t lemme do shit’, before a girl wearing a Tinker Bell costume grabs his attention.
Now if Kelce was in the right state of mind, he would’ve never left you alone. But right now, with quite a bit of alcohol in his system, he’s not thinking clearly.
So after another five minutes when you finally walk out of the bathroom and see a random guy leaned against the wall, smirking at you, instead of Kelce, you panic.
“Wha’s good pretty girl?” He coos, similar to how your boyfriend would, but more sinisterly.
You sort-of sober up at this, despite having 3 shots and 2 of Sarah’s cocktail things. But your mind still remains foggy.
You don’t respond at first, for some reason you think he’s talking to someone behind you, until he grabs your arm when you try to pass him.
“Nothin’? C’mon talk to me doll.”
You don’t like how the nickname sounds coming from his mouth, and you stammer to try and respond.
“Jus’ wanted to use the bathroom..”You whimper meekly.
You’re looking around for Kelce or even Rafe, but you can hardly tell whether or not this guy really is pink.
“Dollie? You up here babe?”
You whip your head back, too quickly unfortunately, and you see Sarah coming up the stairs.
….Not without tripping up the step once or twice, though.
“Oh m’gosh Dollie, I’ve been looking everywhere for you! Listen, I found some more shit, ‘n I could totally make one of those cool Bloody Mary’s—“
The drunk blonde cuts off her rambling once she opens her eyes and looks at you.
You’re grimacing, while trying to pull your arm away from this guy, who seemingly has a painful grip on you. And you can barely stand straight.
Sarah’s eyes widen, and from the looks of it, all of the alcohol from the night has suddenly vanished from her body.
“What the fuck d’you think you’re doing?!” Sarah nearly barks at the boy as she takes a few steps closer, trying to steady herself.
“This doesn’t concern you, bitch,” he sneers, making you inhale the smell of alcohol from his breath due to the close proximity.
Sarah’s practically stomping across the hallway, reaching for your hand.
“It obviously concerns me since you’re gripping my best friend, you cunt.”
When the blonde girl finally reaches you, the drunken kook shoves her straight into the wall, making you shout for Sarah.
You’re pushing against the man, begging him to just let you go, while he’s trying to drag you back into one of the dark rooms of the house.
Meanwhile, Rafe’s freaking the fuck out downstairs, and honestly, he’s about to flip this entire house upside down.
He’s taking large steps, walking with a purpose as he finally spots Topper. He smacks a rough hand on his shoulder, interrupting Topper’s conversation with the girl from earlier.
“Yo, Topper, you seen my sister?”
Topper turns around, nearly snarling due to the mention of his ex girlfriend.
“No, dude, why the fuck would I know where she is?”
Rafe’s nose flares, he’s growing more and more irritated by the minute at the thought of you being out of his line of sight.
“Don’t fucking catch an attitude with me, and I don’t really care where the fuck my sister is, I’m looking for Dollie.”
There’s a beat of silence between them, despite the loud surroundings, then somebody’s rushing to Rafe before Topper can even respond.
It’s some random pogue, which angers Rafe even more, — but he’d never tell you that though.
“Rafe! This guy just shoved Sarah into the wall upstairs,” he rushes out through his panting, since he had sprinted down the stairs moments prior.
“And, and he keeps grabbin’ on Dollie-“ Rafe immediately starts charging upstairs.
His large strides make everyone turn towards him, wondering what made Rafe Cameron furious this time.
Rafe swears that his heart is going to pound out of his chest; this is the exact reason as to why he wanted you at his side tonight.
He knew not to let you drink with Sarah, because everytime the two of you are left alone together with alcohol, it doesn’t end well.
Rafe’s taking two steps at a time, he’s balling his fists so tightly that his knuckles are turning white.
He swings around the banister, then he sees a group of people holding back a guy who’s cursing loudly, and flailing his body.
“She was fucking asking for it, get the fuck off me!”
Then as he’s walking up, he sees Sarah slap him, and reach into her boot.
“You dirty. Fucking. Freak!” Sarah yells, putting emphasis on every word she spits.
And at the end of her shouting, she sprays her mace in the boy’s face. She’s waving her bedazzled pepper spray container wildly, making the boys holding the kook avert their faces.
Rafe whips his sister around, “what the fuck is going on? Where’s Dollie?”
Sarah huffs at the brunette’s harshness. “She locked herself in the bathroom after I managed to get the guy off her.”
Rafe nearly bulldozes through the forming crowd and parks himself right in front of the door.
But he hesitates to knock.
He urgently wants to get to you, to pull you into his arms and take you straight home. He wants to go through the after-party ritual you both have:
First, he’d always set you down in the kitchen as soon as you both got home, so he could get you a glass of water.
Then after you went into your shared room, he’d help you take off your shoes and clothes, so you could eventually get changed into something comfier.
Then, he’d remove whatever makeup you're wearing, and then tie your hair up —however that may be.
Rafe loves taking care of you, you’re always so stubborn when it comes to him pampering you.
You love the princess treatment, really! But you’re afraid of asking for too much, and Rafe vowed to spend the rest of his life proving to you that there’s no such thing as ‘too much’ with him.
Rafe wants to do all that with you right now, but he knows that you’re startled, frightened even. So he needs to calm down before trying to reach you.
His breathing is uneven, borderline ragged. There’s a slight shake in his hand, and quite frankly, Rafe can’t tell if it’s from sheer rage, or it’s because he can’t handle the thought of scaring you further.
He knocks at the door.
•······················•
There’s a knock at the door.
A gasp rips from your throat, breaking you out of the almost trance that you’re in.
You’re sitting in the bathtub, it’s gross, you’re aware of this. But you’re too shaken up and tipsy to even care.
You just want to be as far away from the door as possible.
“Hey, uh, Dollie? You in here?” You hear it come from the other side of the door, it’s muttered softly.
“S’me, baby.” He continues, although he didn’t need to, because you know that voice like the back of your hand.
“Ray….” You croak, you try to speak more than one singular word, but silence grips your throat.
You can’t seem to move, your joints remain still, but your chest is heaving wildly.
You know you need to get up, you need to unlock the door so Rafe can help you, but your buckled knees keep you grounded at the bottom of the tub.
You open your mouth to speak but only a choked sob escapes.
“Okay, okay. I’ll—I’ll be there in a second, baby.”
Your head leans back on the wall, and you take in your surroundings. You’re in Topper’s bathroom, you can tell because he’s the only one with a bathroom that doesn’t connect to his bedroom.
Kelce must’ve brought you here since it was the closest one. You wonder where Kelce is now.
The sound of the doorknob rattling makes you jump—almost out of your skin.
The door swings open, nearly clashing against the wall. You lock eyes with your boyfriend.
He whispers, “oh Dollie,” and rushes towards you.
Rafe picks your body up out of the tub, and lays you in his lap. Your position similar to a baby being held; Rafe couldn’t help it.
You cried in his arms, despite not wanting to cry in front of him, your resolve had slipped.
This wasn’t your first time having an issue like this, but it had never reached this point before.
Everyone in Kildare County knew you were Rafe’s girl, just like how they knew Rafe was your man, so nobody had dared to go past a few flirty remarks, or even a sly glance.
It was Rafe’s fault, he was sure of it. If he had just found you and took you to the car with him, none of this would’ve happened.
“Don’t do that, Rafe,” you murmur through your sniffles, your voice still holding that rasp from earlier.
“..Do what?”
“Blame yourself. I know that’s what you’re doing, Stop it.” You place a soft hand on his cheek, making you cringe due to all of the surfaces you’ve been touching.
Rafe presses a warm kiss to your temple and caresses your back
There’s a pause, but neither of you mind; the bathroom serving as a temporary solace for you.
You’re rubbing circles on Rafe’s arm while he rests his chin on your head. Whispers are exchanged between the two of you, until you decide that it’d be best to just head home.
Before leaving, though, you make sure Sarah at least has a ride home, for whenever she decides to leave.
You asked Rafe if you could talk to Kelce before leaving, but he refused. Simply stating that you could call him tomorrow.
You pouted at this, but you understand his reasoning, well at least you somewhat could through your haze.
While Rafe’s helping you step down the steps, you see John B walking up.
“Rafe.” John B says, acknowledgingly.
Rafe’s eyes slant, “John B.”
You perk up with a smile, “hi John B!!” You exclaimed with a slur, and with a little too much enthusiasm for Rafe’s liking.”
“Hi, Dollie,” John B smiles at you, and gives you a high-five, making you squeal in your drunken state.
After 10 minutes of Rafe trying to guide you, and you tripping over your own feet, you both finally made it to Rafe’s car.
While he’s buckling you in, Rafe can’t help but think about when you gifted him this car for his birthday.
Well, you picked it out, Ward had actually bought it.
He remembers when you first placed the keys in his hand, you were nearly bouncing in place waiting for his reaction.
Now he’s gotten cars before, in fact, that’s all Ward usually gets him every other birthday besides a watch. But this one, was one you picked out. So he knew he was going to cherish this for the rest of his life.
That same night, you told him about how Ward and you were at the car dealership for hours, since you refused to take any of the cars they originally offered you.
- -
“Y’know I would’ve liked any of ‘em, you didn't have to spend so much time on it. You could’ve gotten me a smoothie, and I think I still would’ve loved it.”
“Woww,” you drag out with a hushed whisper. “You think?”
Rafe poked your side, making you giggle.
“I’m kidding! I’m kidding! But I wanted it to be special.
Couldn’t just pick out any ordinary one. I dunno, I’m surprised you like it so much, since you already have a car and a dirt bike.”
- -
If only you truly knew how much he appreciates everything you do for him.
As soon as Rafe reaches his side of the car and enters, he looks over and sees you slumped back, since he lowered your seat back to get you comfortable.
Your hair’s a bit wild, your lipgloss is almost fully gone, probably from the sweet residue being left on every bottle you’ve touched tonight.
Your mouth is open slightly, and Rafe thinks it’s the cutest thing.
If you found out, he knows you’d be beyond mortified. So, Rafe will just keep this moment locked away for himself.
Honestly, he wishes he could keep you locked away for himself, as selfish as it is.
He can’t help it. You make him whole.
He’s a satellite, and he can’t get back without you.
Because you’re his love; his life.
#lee’s writing! ₍ᐢ. ̫.ᐢ₎#Spotify#rafe cameron#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron x reader#rafe x reader#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe cameron x you#outer banks#outer banks fic#outer banks imagine#obx x reader#obx x you
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P!links 2
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- these are all X links, be sure you’re signed in. (these r making me soooo drool emoji) I can’t find any good ones for Nick and Nate baby boooo :((( I’m sorry y’all!!
Madison Beer
Mutualbaters - you love masterbating with madison right by your side.
Thirsty- after a long day of being in the hot heat all you want is a drink to calm you down.. or rather a wet mouth.
Long day - you know how to calm madison down after she’s had a stressful day.
‘Are you challenging me?’- you strongly believe girls are better eaters than boys.
25/8- it’s never a time where you aren’t rubbing your throbbing clit against Madison’s.
Cum home- you dreaded the time madison was away, so when she returns you make sure to give her the best welcome ever.
Playful - you love the way Madison’s titties feel in your soft small hands.
Pretty princess award- you love to play dress up, Madison loves it too simply for the fact she gets to fuck you in that slutty dress
‘I miss you’- you miss madison so much you can’t help it.
Desperate for you- Madison’s busy, you’re needy. What else will you ever do…
Matt Sturniolo
Your eyes only- Matt can’t help but get turned on by your body, he craves it everyday. One video in particular that helps him.
Tits guy- Matt loves when you tease him with your beautiful perfect breast.
Perfect girl- Matt can’t help but please you, his perfect sweet girl shall get whatever she wants.
Sight for sore eyes- Matt can’t help it, he gets turned on by simple things, can you help him?
One taste - matt was a nerd, you were everything. Everyone wanted you, but you wanted Matt, just one taste of him.
Under the desk - Matt has been on twitch for over 3 hours, making you wait. Well you’re sick of it.
Good boy- Matt loves to watch you cum, more than being able to cum himself. He just wants to be your good boy.
Please - Matt will beg and beg to fuck you, doesn’t matter when or where you are.
Chris sturniolo
3 minutes- “bet I can make you cum in 3 minutes” “Chris what the hell are you on about?” Safe to say Chris was right.
Ride me- Chris wants nothing more than you riding him after a painfully slow and long exhausting day.
Mornin- sweet sex is the best way to start a morning.
Dirty bitch- “you look like you’ve never even touched a dick..” that’s where Chris was wrong.
Ruin me - you love when Chris gets mad, giving him the opportunity to take it out on you.
Watch it- Chris’ ex can’t stop stalking you online, you being the girlfriend you are.. you send her a reminder of who Chris chose.
Babydoll- despite how innocent you look in your skirt, Chris cant help but get hard.
Visible- ‘you can see my dick in your throat baby’
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Tags- @shaquilles-0atmeal @monroesturnns @blahbel668 @mattssluttywaist @jetaimevous
lmk which p!link u guys like best! I wanna write a fic based off of it🙊🙊
#camzeespills#chris x reader#matt sturniolo smut#alt aesthetic#chris sturniolo smut#matt sturniolo fluff#christopher sturniolo#matt sturniolo x reader#matthew sturniolo#matt sturniolo fanfiction#matt sturniolo x you#matt sturniolo#madison beer#madison elle beer#chrissturniolo#chris sturniolo x reader#chris sturniolo#chris smut#p links#sub!matt#sturniolo triplets x reader#sturniolo triplets#nick sturniolo#chris sturniolo angst#christopher sturniolo x reader
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THE WINNER TAKES IT ALL!
pairings: oscar piastri x superstar!reader.
summary: when your boyfriend wins his maiden grand prix, you’ve got to show up for him. that proves difficult when no one believes he’s dating you.
faceclaim: isabella peschardt.
author’s note: dedicated to the one anon that sent me this plot and obviously to the one third of my f1 holy trinity, mr oscar piastri for his maiden win!!! <3
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liked by arianagrande, clairo and 4,827,929 others.
yourusername: the tour is finally done!! thank you so much to all of the incredible fans, my fabulous team and everyone else who made this possible! this is all for you!
i’m home now and as a thank you, i’ve released ‘saturn’. i saw all of your tweets and comments about when i’d finally let it out of my music cage and now it’s free! hope you all enjoy <3
view all 907,726 comments
user1: SHE RELEASED THE LIVE VERSION AND THE ORIGINAL????
-> user2: YNNIES WE HAVE BEEN FED TODAY !!!!!
user3: i saw her melbourne show. she’s soooo good live.
-> user4: y’all bullied her into performing drew barrymore thank you for ur service 🫡
user5: so many celebrities showed up to the tour. omg. beyoncé, sza, jay-z, the obama’s daughters, ari, dua, the hadids, justin bieber, and so many others.
-> user6: so many f1 drivers were there? pierre, charles and his gf were spotted at the paris show. lando, oscar, george and his gf, and alex and his gf went to the london show. mick and lewis went to the berlin show. this girl has a HOLD in the motorsport world.
-> user7: i mean, oscar always reposts her stuff on his timeline. he’s probably a ynnie and that’s so real of him.
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liked by landonorris, georgerussell63 and 1,123,828 others.
oscarpiastri: got my first win, not too shabby eh?
view all 567,122 comments
nicolepiastri: WOOOO thats my son 🍾
*liked by oscarpiastri.*
user1: obsessed with this man
user2: AUSTRALIA RAHHH 🐨🦘🇦🇺
charles_leclerc: congratulations son! another win for the leclerc family.
user3: MY GOAT!!!!!
-> user4: a win for gen z.
user5: wym winners are now being born in the 2000s???
-> user6: girl i feel OLD 😭
yourusername: so proud of you! literally cried when you won! i was screaming at the television and everything. my dad got it on camera 😔
-> oscarpiastri: epic, send it to me.
-> user7: HELP?/&/&
-> user8: wym that thee yn yln and oscar piastri text??
-> user9: since when was yn a oscar stan?
-> user10: fr cause she never used to watch f1? she was always a basketball/hockey fan. hmmm…
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liked by ynsgirl, oscarstan1 and 1,727,828 others
ham1ltonshaderoom: after oscar piastri’s maiden f1 win, he was spotted in london with none other than pop’s golden girl, yn yln. they were then posted on a friend’s instagram story, which was then quickly deleted. she was reportedly also seen leaving his celebratory afterparty.
what do you think about the unlikely couple, ham1ltons?
view all 347,928 comments
user1: no.
-> user2: no.
-> user3: no.
-> user4: no.
-> user5: FUCK no!
user6: no way in hell she’s dating him bffr. she has a type and oscar isn’t it.
-> user7: oscar wishes. wouldn’t be surprised if he faked these and paid ham1lton to post it.
user8: i love oscar and yn but separately.
user9: it makes sense a little though. i’m serious.
-> user10: most unserious comment ever.
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liked by yourusername, oscarstan2 and 3,827,882 others.
oscarpiastri: i can’t lose when i’m with you.
tagged: yourusername
view all 728,828 comments
user1: oh they frfr 😟
user2: this is so sweet!!! no wonder she was releasing happier love songs recently.
user3: dating the prettiest girl ever, being a formula one race winner, a future wdc, and you’re not even UGLY??? why did god humble me this is sick.
-> user4: exactly 😭 like yn give us some time!! we’ll get there.
-> oscarpiastri: want some tips?
-> user5: U RSICK MYGOD
landonorris: the grapevine was right. oh.
logansargeant: happy for you both!! and ty yn for giving me the signed vinyl for my cousin!! she loved it 😻
user13: USING HER LYRICS AS THE CAPTION MY GOD
-> user14: SNOOZE IS ABOUT OSCAR????
-> user15: oscar is a bad bitch my god. getting one of the biggest songs written about him.
-> oscarpiastri: 1:21 — sideways by jt 😉
-> user16: OSCAR HELLO?2&/9/9/)
-> user17: MCLARENS PR WHERE ARE YOU?
-> mclaren: too busy streaming ctrl by yn 🎧
user6: i don’t believe it. why would she date him?
-> oscarpiastri: and what’s the alternative? dating you?
-> user7: OOP! 😹
user8: yn doesn’t deserve oscar.
*user blocked by oscarpiastri.*
yourusername: i love you 👩🏽❤️💋👨🏻
-> oscarpiastri: i love you so much more actually 💕
user9: CUTEST COUPLE EVER OMGGGG
user10: this is the year of athlete x singer relationships
-> user11: gonna start singing lessons immediately. JUDE BELLINGHAM WAIT FOR ME!!!
-> user12: i can hit a note on occasion landonorris 😏
-> landonorris: just checked your profile, you sound like a screeching cat. absolutely awful.
-> landonorris: i want you 😍
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— all works taglist: @luvsforme @yelenasloverrrrr @donttouchthegnote @chelle1306 @bloodyymaryy @aliciaablueprint @lennnooshh @km-23mr @stinkyjax @f1kenzzz @ctrlyomomma @theblueblub @lavisenri @marshmummy @23victoria @ourlifeforchaos @namgification @tallrock35 @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @ariellovelynn @shhhchriss @lifeless-firefly @xylinasdiary @evie-119 @itseightbeats @tsireyasgf @landososcar @yongi-lee @maxlarens @velentine @m1892 @blushmimi @evans-dejong (oscar specific tags will be in the comments)
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#jayde’s works ☆#formula one x reader#f1 x reader#formula 1 x reader#f1 imagine#formula 1 imagine#f1 fanfic#f1 smau#formula one x black reader#formula one smau#formula one texts#formula 1 x you#oscar piastri smau#oscar piastri x y/n#oscar piastri x you#oscar piastri x reader#oscar piastri x black reader#op81 x you#op81 smau#op81 x y/n#op81 x reader#op81 imagine#oscar piastri imagine#formula one imagine#f1 texts
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Tyler Owens x Reader: Don't Take Him
Request: Anonymous said: "hi! oh my gosh i love your tyler x reader writings so much. could you do one where the reader is watching the tornado wrangler's livestream while they're chasing and suddenly it cuts out & she's worried something happened to tyler? with just fluff and angst and all that? thank you <3"
Word count: 3.4k
Warnings: angst
A/N: I'm afraid i'm officially down bad for tyler owens (and glen powell). send help.
The notification popped up on your phone while you were cooking dinner in the kitchen.
The Tornado Wranglers started a live video. Watch it before it ends!
You rolled your eyes and smirked. Tyler and his stupid channel, you thought.
After wiping your hands on a dish towel, you swiped your thumb across the notification, letting it take you to their feed.
Boone’s face was the first you saw. His goofy, contagious grin flashed across the screen. “Alright, it’s rollin’,” he said, flipping the camera to show Tyler in the driver’s seat. “How we feelin’ today, T?”
Tyler beamed, his smile causing his eyes to crinkle the way you loved so much. As annoying as it was to constantly be competing with tornadoes for Tyler’s affection, you had to admit that his passion was admirable.
“Oh, we’re feelin’ pretty good, Boone– why don’t you show the viewers what we’re chasin’ today!”
The screen panned over towards the windshield, showing the storm ahead. The footage was a little grainy, but the impending storm in the distance was obvious.
“Ain’t she a beaut?” Boone marveled.
“Now y’all got fireworks last week– this week what do you say we give rockets a go?” Tyler said, just as Boone turned the camera back on him.
“Idiots,” you mumbled to yourself, shaking your head. You rested your phone against the utensil jar, propping it up so that you could continue to maneuver around the kitchen and listen at the same time.
After a while, you got lost in the recipe you were trying, tuning out your boyfriend and his friends.
“Alright, Boone– Lilly?” Tyler said as you continued to chop the vegetables on the cutting board in front of you. “You ready?”
“Oh, I’m ready!” you heard Lilly chime back.
“Here we go, folks– as always, don’t try this at home!”
You briefly turned your attention back towards the video as they began actively driving into the tornado, your view limited to Boone’s shaky camera work as Tyler’s driving undoubtedly turned chaotic.
To avoid motion sickness, you looked back towards the food in front of you.
“She’s gettin’ close, boys!” Lilly yelled.
You heard their collective cheers and hollers.
“Anchoring time–” Tyler said.
There was a brief pause before you heard Boone. “Hit the button, T–”
“I am hitting the button,” Tyler said firmly.
“Tyler–” Lilly said. It was the hint of urgency in her tone that had you looking back towards your phone again.
“It’s jammed–” Tyler said. “Here, gimme the screwdriver.”
Boone had clearly ceased thinking about camera angles. All you saw was the edge of Tyler’s face in the corner of the screen.
“Tyler, we gotta lock it down–”
“I know, Boone. I’m tryin’ here– the damn button’s stuck again.”
“Guys–” Lilly warned.
Your eyebrows furrowed as you watched the frame.
“Guys, it’s getting closer.”
“I know–” Tyler said. “Boone, move your hand.”
“C’mon, man, let me try–”
“I’m telling you, it’s stuck–”
“Look out!” you jumped at Lilly’s sudden scream, followed by the sound of a loud bang, that echoed even through the screen.
“Oh shit–” Boone yelled, camera flying.
You grabbed your phone urgently, but all you could see was the ceiling of Tyler’s truck. Suddenly, gear was flying through the screen– almost as if the truck was flipping. You held your breath, panic and dread flooding through your entire body as you watched helplessly.
“Hang on to someth–” Tyler’s voice was suddenly cut off along with Boone’s feed.
The Tornado Wranglers live stream has ended.
Even after their video went dark, you continued staring at your phone– like you were hoping Boone would pop back up any second, laughing like this was some sick, twisted joke.
Except you waited– and waited, and Boone never popped back up.
And neither did Tyler.
Frantically, you pulled up your contacts and clicked on Tyler’s name. You had an unspoken agreement that no matter what he was doing during a chase– if you called, he answered.
So that’s exactly what you did.
But your nerves weren’t settled. In fact, you stopped breathing all together when Tyler’s phone went straight to voicemail– something he swore he’d never do.
Hoping that he just had bad service, you called a second time– and then a third. But each time you heard Tyler’s voice telling you to leave a message at the beep, you felt the pool of panic inside of you rising higher and higher.
“C’mon Tyler,” you muttered to yourself.
Stupidly, you let your hopes get up when Lilly’s phone actually rang. But when that went to voicemail too, your hopes just about shattered. You didn’t even bother to try Boone– he may have been the camera guy, but he almost never had his own phone within reach.
After your fifth attempt to reach Tyler, you finally did leave a message.
“Hey, it’s me. I was watching the livestream when it cut out and I–” your voice cracked, causing you to stop and take a shaky breath. “Listen, I just need to know that you’re okay. So please call me back.”
With that, you hung up the phone, setting it on the counter after finally realizing it probably wouldn’t be beneficial to try calling him a sixth time– no matter how badly you wanted to. You stared ahead out the window that was over the sink. It was blue skies where you were– just a few wispy, thin clouds overhead. Nothing that remotely resembled what Tyler had just driven through.
You didn’t even know where he was chasing today. You’d meant to ask when he’d called you last night from his motel room, but you’d gotten distracted by the dog whining to go out and ultimately forgot. Now, you had no way to contact him and no idea where he was…
Suddenly, a sob bubbled in your throat. Before you could filter or control it, you were letting out a shaky gasp– shoulders shuddering as you gripped the edge of the counter and doubled over.
You felt it everywhere– from your mind down to your toes, your entire body reacted to the cruel, impossible idea of something happening to Tyler.
Maybe he was fine, you told yourself. Maybe Boone just dropped his phone and the feed cut– But even as the thought crossed your mind, you knew it was ridiculously unlikely. You saw those things go flying– you heard Lilly’s scream.
Maybe the car flipped, maybe it was crushed.
Maybe Tyler was pulled right from his seat, tossed into the oncoming storm.
Maybe he was hit with flying debris, his body mangled and bruised and broken–
“No,” you whimpered to yourself, shaking your head. “No, no, no– please– please don't take him, please don't take him.”
You weren't even sure who you were pleading to, all you knew was that you couldn’t imagine Tyler not being okay. He was the strong one– always steady, always certain. He was your rock, the person you leaned on for absolutely everything. And the idea of him being hurt somewhere was unfathomable. Tyler didn’t get scared– Tyler didn’t get hurt. Tyler drove into oncoming tornadoes and stayed strong.
To your absolute despair, all you could do in the upcoming hours while you waited for any sort of news, was hope to God that was still the case.
Eventually, you found a home on the kitchen floor– back against the cabinets and knees hugged tightly to your chest to try and withstand the dread raging inside of you.
…
Tyler put his truck in park outside of the house before running a hand through his damp, windblown hair. After the day he’d had, he’d never been happier to be home.
It wasn’t the first time he’d flipped in the truck. Thanks to the roll cage, they wound back upright with next to no damage– but Tyler knew it’d been his fault. The stupid rods had malfunctioned again– something Tyler had been meaning to take a look at for the past month. Except every time they got stuck, he’d managed to fix the jam before the storms actually hit. But this time, he’d been too late.
Luckily, his two passengers were even bigger adrenaline junkies than he was. The truck had barely landed back on its wheels before Boone was hollering and pounding his fist against the ceiling in excitement. And Lilly wasn’t far behind him. Meanwhile, all Tyler could do was look down at his shattered cell phone and hope to hell you wouldn’t need to reach him for the rest of the night.
As soon as Tyler walked through the front door of your shared house, he noticed signs of you everywhere. The lamp near your reading chair was turned on, and the blanket you always used was strewn across the couch messily. He noticed the mug resting on the coffee table, thinking to himself that it was almost certainly half full of the tea you always insisted on making at night but never finished.
He smiled to himself, as he bent over to untie his muddy boots, eager to spend the rest of his night holding you close.
He had barely managed to toe off his final boot when he heard shuffling from the kitchen.
“Tyler?”
He could instantly tell that something was off– your voice sounded so muffled and choked up.
“Hey,” he said, turning to offer you a smile. But it faded from his face at the sight of you. Your body was trembling, shoulders slumped and arms wound tightly around yourself. Your eyes were bloodshot and puffy from what looked like hours of crying.
“Baby?” he said.
In response, you covered your mouth and hunched over just in time for a sob to escape your lips.
Instantly, Tyler’s stomach dropped to the floor.
“Hey,” he said, hurrying forward. He hesitated, hands hovering near your shoulders. He’d never seen you like this– so fragile and broken and obviously devastated over something. But he had no fucking idea what it was– which meant, he had no fucking idea how to fix it.
Your hair had fallen in your face, but he could still see the tears rolling steadily down your rosy cheeks as you gasped for air.
“Hey,” he repeated gently, tilting his head down so that he was closer to your height.
“I-I saw– And I thought–” you stammered frantically, jumping to the next sentence without finishing the first.
In that moment, Tyler decided against his earlier hesitation and risked reaching for you. Just standing there and watching you fall apart went against every instinct he had– he wanted to protect you, keep you safe from anything that could cause this kind of harm.
But as soon as his hands grazed your shoulder, Tyler knew that he’d made the wrong choice. The moment he made contact, you lunged forward– hands planting themselves on his chest before you gave him a shove.
“You asshole!” you yelled through a sob.
Tyler staggered backwards– more from being caught off guard by your sudden burst of anger, than from how hard you pushed him.
But he barely had time to recover before you were lunging for him a second time. Using what little energy you had, you shoved him again. “What the hell is wrong with you?!” you shouted.
Tyler took a simple step back, eyes scanning the length of you– trying to decide what the hell he should do. When you attempted to push him for a third time, your arms barely had any energy left in them.
“Hey–” he breathed, gripping your wrists when they landed on his chest a fourth time.
“Let go of me!” you yelled, wiggling from his grasp. “You’re an asshole, Tyler!”
“Stop,” he begged, releasing your wrists to wrap his arms around your shoulders. You fought his hold, fists colliding with his chest instead. But this time, he didn’t let go.
“No!” you sobbed, but he could already feel you slowing down. Not like your shoves or fists hurt before, but with each pound, the impact grew lighter and lighter.
“Stop,” he repeated, forcing you to his chest, despite your resistance. You were pushing him away– but everything about your demeanor screamed that you needed his comfort.
Finally, whether it was his persistence or your exhaustion, you gave up fighting and let your body melt against his.
Tyler planted one palm between your shoulder blades firmly and used the other to cup the back of your neck, anchoring you to him securely. As soon as Tyler tightened his hold on you, you erupted into a fit of sobs– like all the dam inside of you needed was just a little bit of pressure to break. The trembling turned into violent shaking, and you began gripping at the fabric of his t-shirt like your life depended on it.
And Tyler had no fucking idea what to do–
So, he did the only thing he could do, which was hold onto you tightly and let you stain the front of his plain gray shirt with your tears.
“I got you, baby,” Tyler whispered as he pressed a lingering kiss against the top of your head. “You’re okay, I got you.”
Eventually, he heard you take a ragged breath and pull away just enough to look up at him. Tyler cupped your jaw with his large hand and used his thumb to stroke your cheek. “Talk to me,” he pleaded.
You bit down on your quivering lip before speaking. “I-I was watching– I was watching Boone’s livestream when it cut out– and then, your phone– I couldn’t reach you. I- I called like– so many times, but you didn’t answer– I thought– I thought something had happened– I thought you were hurt– or-or worse–”
“Oh, baby,” Tyler exhaled, guilt spreading through him at the thought of you having to see whatever got streamed from the accident earlier. He was the reason you were so distraught in your shared kitchen at eleven o’clock. He was the reason your eyes were red rimmed and swollen. He was the reason your cheeks were stained with tears. “I’m so sorry.”
“I thought I was gonna get a phone call– from the hospital or- or your mom or something– I didn’t think you’d- I didn’t think you’d come home, I thought you died,” You broke on the last admission, like something inside of you had cracked. You collapsed in on yourself, hunching over and wracking with heaving sobs.
Tyler pulled you back into his embrace, like he was the only thing preventing you from drowning. Gradually, his soft touch and gentle murmurs brought you to the surface again.
“I’m so sorry, baby,” he repeated, lips ghosting along your temple. “I’m right here. I’m okay.”
“But- the truck– it flipped–”
He nodded above you. “It did– I couldn’t get the screws bolted down in time. But we have the cage, the truck rolled right back upright. Everyone is fine. I mean, Boone might have a few loose screws, but there’s no tellin’ if that’s from the rolled truck–”
Your tone immediately hardened as you sharply pulled back again. “Are you seriously making jokes right now, Tyler?”
And truthfully, Tyler wasn’t entirely sure how to react. He looked down at you pathetically, chest aching to see you so upset. You being this angry with him was uncharted territory.
“You could have died!” you said loudly. “I know you think you are, but you’re not invincible, Tyler! This isn’t some movie where you get to drive into tornadoes completely unscathed ten times out of ten. This is our lives! I-I mean, what the hell were you thinking?”
”Everything’s okay–”
“Everything is not okay! I’m not okay! Do you know how helpless I felt? Watching that stupid livestream? I tried to call, but– but you didn’t answer, I couldn’t do anything but wait here! I mean, what if that had been me? What if you’d seen a video of me crashing my car– and then had no way to reach me? What if you had to spend all night wondering if you were going to get a call that I was dead in a ditch God-only-knows-where?”
For once, Tyler had no response. Because the truth was, he knew everything you were saying was right. He’d be equally angry and frustrated and horrified if the tables were turned.
You wiped the tear falling down your cheek, lip quivering. “I– I can’t live in a world without you in it, Tyler. I really can’t–”
In the deafening silence, he sighed. “I know,” he said quietly, stepping forward to bring you back into his embrace. He was surprised when you willingly let him wrap his arms around you, head falling to rest on his chest.
Tyler’s hand ran through your hair. “I know. I’m okay, baby. I’m right here, I got you.”
He was okay. He was alive and he was right here– you could hear his heartbeat beneath you– feel his breath against the side of your neck. He was alive and unharmed.
You kept your eyes closed and tried to memorize the sound of his heartbeat. You let it seep into the cracks of your heart and heal whatever had been broken in the last few hours of worrying– wondering if he was alive. You focused on the way his arms felt around you– impossibly warm, and so, so safe.
Gradually, your breathing and your mind slowed. Until all that was left was Tyler.
Your voice was shaky when you finally pulled away. “I’m so glad you’re okay,” you exhaled. “I didn’t like not being able to reach you.”
Tyler’s hand stroked your hair gently, “Baby, I’m so sorry I made you worry– my phone broke when we rolled. I’ll get a new one tomorrow, I promise.”
You nodded slowly and placed your hand against Tyler’s chest.
“You okay?” he asked.
You blinked a few times, realizing how tired you were. “Yeah–” you said, nodding. You felt Tyler’s heartbeat beneath your palm.
Each beat reminding you that he was here and he was alive and he was okay.
“Can you–” your voice cracked slightly, making you wince. “Can you please just stay with me the rest of the night? I just–” you glanced down at the floor, embarrassed to admit how much you needed him. “I just need to be close to you tonight.”
Tyler’s eyes softened. “Of course, baby. Where else would I be?”
You nodded slowly.
Tyler grabbed your hand and led you towards the couch. He took the blanket you’d left sprawled out from earlier and wrapped it around your shoulders before pulling you down beside him. He laid back against the cushions and made a spot for you. Without even hesitating, you curled up between his legs and rested your head back against his chest.
“I need you to promise me you’ll be careful,” you pleaded. “I know you love chasing, and I’d never ask you to give that up, but I don’t know what I’d do if anything ever happened to you.”
You felt Tyler sigh beneath you, his chest rising and falling steadily. “I promise.”
“And I need you to promise me you’ll get those damn screws fixed. That’s like the third time this month you’ve told me that they’ve jammed.”
You felt his chest rumble as he chuckled softly. “I will. Believe it or not, I didn’t like rolling in my truck, either.”
You lifted your head from his chest so that you could get a good look at Tyler’s face. Even after all these years with him, he still managed to leave you breathless.
“Well then maybe it’s time you take a break and just stay home for a little while,” you teased, lips curling into a soft smile.
The corner of Tyler’s lips tugged upward as his green eyes sparkled under the dim light. “You know what, that might not be a bad idea.”
You raised your eyebrow skeptically. You knew you shouldn’t get your hopes up, and yet, that was exactly what you did. “Really?”
Tyler’s hand tucked a loose strand of your hair from your face before his thumb grazed across your wet cheek. He nodded sincerely. “Really.”
You were a mess– eyes puffy, lips cracked. You were exhausted and so shaken up from everything that had happened. And who knew how long Tyler would have to put extra effort into helping make you feel safe.
But right now, wrapped in his embrace on your shared couch, all you needed was him.
#tyler owens imagine#tyler owens fic#tyler owens x reader#tyler owens#twisters imagine#twisters fanfic#twisters fic#twisters#tyler owens x reader imagine#tyler owens x reader fic#twisters x reader#twisters x reader fic#twisters x reader imagine
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a friend in need! (e.w.)
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SYNOPSIS: heartbreak aid during the apocalypse, you ask?
WORD COUNT: 5k
WARNINGS: bff!ellie who’s sad, kinda perv oc who’s eager to fix that, remixed version of seattle!ellie, dina catching strays for no reason (i love her pls), wound care but erotic, SMUT AGELESS BLOGS/MINORS DNI, dubcon (nasty green), porn watching, mutual/guided masturbation, brief poochie eating, oc in denial ab her little crush, real girlhood <3, slight angst :(
A/N: the bubblegum apocalypse where no one dies or lies. #SCISSORING
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The gates of Jackson open, and relief rushes through your chest.
Everyone is accounted for. Ellie’s accounted for.
Weeks—or however the fuck long— of pent-up anxiety finally settles in your limbs as you sprint towards Shimmer while Jesse tends to Dina, greeting the hazel mount with coos and rustles through her fur. Baby needs a bath and a good brushing.
Your eyes swiftly shift from her to your best friend, “Ellie, I’m so glad— “
“Can you help me down, please?”
Creases bunch in your forehead at the strain in her tone. And then you’re met with the blood-soaked wrap that's enclosed around her jean-covered thigh.
“Oh, shit… c’mere.”
Ellie’s good leg swings over the saddle, and you hold her waist to ease her down into the muddy grass. Joel’s the first one to engulf her. They exchange words that you don’t catch before his reluctant arms drop to guide Shimmer back to the stocks, leaving you two alone. You can’t stop yourself from throwing your arms around her neck next, mindful of her leg.
“I didn’t know what to think when y’all didn’t come back,” you whisper.
When the two girls first made their departure to Seattle, the icy remains of winter had just begun to melt into the dirt beneath it, and that alone felt like ages ago. There’s mosquitoes and moths everywhere now, following wherever the sun beams.
A strong arm wraps around your waist, and you instantly stiffen and detach from her, hands resting on her shoulders.
Her gaze drops to the ground when you whisper, “What happened, Ellie? You okay?”
She breathes. “Peachy.”
Your hands drop when she turns in the direction of her home, head jerking when she says, “I’m gonna shower.”
“Dinners supposed to be really good tonight!” You exclaim with a broken smile when she takes her first hobble, “Eat with me? Consider it a celebration that you made it home safe.”
Ellie seems to soften at your invitation, head bobbing in approval, and you smile.
She holds her fist out to you, “See you in 20?”
You bump your knuckles against hers with strained cheeks, “See you in 20.”
One small, comforting smile from her, and she’s off, limping back home.
“What’s up with them?”
You flinch at the too close whisper from Jesse, and you shrug. “Maybe they broke up.”
“Doubt it,” He snorts, “Dina told me it was brutal on the way back. The bastards were everywhere, she said. They’re probably still shook up.”
“Damn… How’s she doing?”
“Weird as hell. I think she’s sick or something,” Concern is melting off him, “She’s getting checked out now.”
“I’ll check on her later,” You face him, “Coming to dinner?”
“Probably not. Gotta make sure Dee’s good.” He’s already walking off, trailing after his friend…? Ex? You never know what to call them.
“See ya.” You wave awkwardly.
Weird.
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How do you cheer up a friend that just witnessed three dozen infected tear another small community to shreds? At least, according to Jesse. He was able to get more out of Ellie and Dina than you were, apparently.
You don’t know how Ellie — or anyone — could experience such barbarous scenes as frequently as they do. You’ve been on patrol twice since you stumbled upon Jackson a few years back, and each venture leaves you less and less eager to see the world beyond its walls. You respect their bravery, not only for being able to dive head first into unknown territory with nothing but bullets and faith, but to also face those walking demons at every corner.
Your closest friend is often excited to show you scavenged artifacts that she has collected, but… she’s barely spoken to you since you helped her off Shimmer.
Her silence is uncommon, and therefore, frightening.
“It’s been a while since we’ve had fish,” you scoff weakly, poking your carrots with your fork, “It’s good, huh?”
Her focus shifts from the tablecloth to you.
Silence.
You drop your utensil, “Fuck, Ellie… dude, what happened out there? Jesse told me… that y'all got caught up— “
“Dina’s pregnant.”
He didn’t tell you that.
Ellie’s whisper breezes past your ears so fast that you barely catch it. The canteen continues to bustle with hungry, ravaged patrons who returned from their second round of patrol. You assumed Ellie was one of them after her scattered return, but she hasn’t touched anything on her plate. Not even her carrots. Her favorite; A literal goddamn rabbit.
No wonder she hasn’t eaten… Who could’ve with news like that? Especially considering the high she was riding before the couple left.
“What.”
Ellie’s head shakes with gall, and a disappointed grin plumps her cheeks.
“Yup… Can’t wait to tell Maria.”
Sharing the news of a new Jackson kiddo sounds like the last thing on her mind. Days before the two took off, she was squealing like a wild hyena in the wee hours of the night, gushing to you about the midnight explorations with her long-term crush. Her retellings of their first night together were vivid: filled with pent up tension and need and unfiltered lust. According to Ellie, they could’ve gotten married in a fortnight with the relationship they’d built over the years, and you believed her. Sadly.
You were present, observant, during your teenage years. You were there when Cat kissed Ellie, when they broke up, when Ellie had recurring nightmares about Riley and was desperate for comfort from you, when Ellie fell for Dina…
And now they’re in a pickle. A fat one.
Hearing about Ellie’s relationship never went how you’d assume. You expected to be happy for your friend whenever she enthused about a topic that brought about such elation, but there was always something about the stories that gave you pause. Something that burned in the pit of your stomach and caused you to, frankly, fake congratulations. You’re unsure why, but hearing about Dina and Ellie’s relationship potentially being tarnished is calming that simmer inside you.
“Just when I thought…” She scoffs quietly. “Whatever. Fuck it.”
You can’t resist and slip, “… Who’s the daddy?” And she hisses.
“Guess.”
But you don’t have to... Fuck.
Dina and Jesse’s relationship was… something. In adolescence, Ellie was either secretly celebrating their multitude of separations or crying to you about them getting back together. Their consistent streak of being on and off clearly got the best of them. There’s a ball of cells growing inside of your friend’s almost-girlfriend.
“Shit… maybe it was… a misunderstanding? Doesn’t it take a couple weeks to… form in the womb or whatever?”
You’re not the devil's advocate. Your lips clamp at Ellie’s stern glare.
“There’s no misunderstanding.”
Your shoulders slump at the distance in her eyes. The indifference she’s exuding can’t disguise the hurt that she’s experiencing internally. Your heart aches for her, despite the excited jitters in your fingers.
“… Sorry, man.”
“I don’t care.”
Good, you impulsively want to say. You shove it down into the hardwood beneath your soles. Your brows furrow in annoyance, more so at yourself for not being remorseful. “Fuck off. Yes, you do, and that’s okay. It’s normal.”
“Can we go?”
Her request is sudden and cracked, and every inkling of pride deflates in your chest. Poor thing; How could you feel like this when she’s this scattered? Guilt replaces whatever dark fantasy you’ve conjured up in the past five minutes.
You move to stand without objection. Fuck the carrots, “Yeah. Let’s roll— “
An instant lightbulb above your head… and it’s glowing green. Roll.
Roll!
Mischief shines in your chest and eyes when you glance around the packed space in search for,
“TOMMY!”
A flash of brown hair turns to meet your sprinting form. The peach he’s holding looks devine.
“You seen ‘Gene anywhere?”
Your grin widens at his disapproving stare.
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“Be careful with those, shit-for-brain! I’m not coming to save your ass like last time!”
“Got it, boss!” You squeak with a polite smile, shoving the small baggie of rolled joints into your stuffed satchel. It vanishes the second Eugene slams his vault to his dirty ass man cave, “Fucking dicksucker.” You huff.
Ellie snickers from beside you. “C’mon. Be nice.”
“No. He skimped on me last time. Toke hog.”
The walk to your place is colder than usual, but it’s beautiful out. The moon shines from behind the dark clouds, illuminating the ivory that shields the incoming spring grass. Gorgeously cinematic; A scenery that gets the heart thumping. Aching. Yearning.
You lead Ellie onto your porch and into your home. She removes her jacket and kicks off her boots, throwing her armor over the designated rack. Your satchel goes flying across the room until it clatters on your bed. Black tapes spill all over the mattress, and Ellie scolds you disapprovingly.
“Again? Really?”
You smirk. Eugene’s always too blasted to punish your kleptocracy, “No one has a better porn collection than ‘Ge— “
Her jaw slacks, “Porn?! What the fuck, I thought those were the Jurassic Park— “
“They’re not…” Before pondering, “Although that’d be some crazy role play. RAAAWR— “
“You’re the fucking worst.”
“C’mon! Look at these titles,” You skip to your bedside to snag a couple tapes, “Smoochie the Coochie… Banging my hot neighbor…”
A boisterous laugh passes your lips, “Throbbin’ Hood: Prince of Beaves! Tell me that’s not fucking hilarious!”
Ellie doesn’t laugh. Hasn’t laughed. Just simmers by the front door with red dusting her cheeks. How adorable!
“Why’re you looking like that?”
When her eyes travel over the creases between your brows and confused smile, your feet give an awkward stutter. This wasn’t the reaction you were expecting. At the very least, she should’ve cracked a smile by now. Even an insecure one.
You peer down at the tapes in your hand and back up at her. Her posture shifted: arms wrapped protectively around her waist while she leaned on the balls of her feet, eyes inspecting the dim lights of your space.
Another lightbulb. Not a green one.
“Have you ever watched porn?”
She shrugs with floundering shoulders. You chuckle.
“It’s just for shits and giggles, Ellie. Don’t be so serious. The acting sucks and you needa good laugh.”
You cradle the filled baggie like it holds a sacred orb and waltz towards the VCR. Your screen shifts from bright blue to the tape’s introduction screen. Naked men in speedos… Ellie plops down on the couch behind and mindlessly flicks a lighter. You reach into the baggie and toss her the fattest joint available before working the remote.
A sigh releases… then another flicker… then a long, drawled out exhale. You grin.
You, remote in hand, plop down next to her, “Is it good?”
“Better than last time, for sure.” You trade the remote for the joint, arm wrapped around your angled legs as you pull. Hits smooth… er. It still dries your throat.
“Remind me to thank him.”
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Two joints down. Two tapes completed. Three wide smiles from Ellie from the bad acting. The night’s a win in your book.
She lazily lights another joint while you switch out the tapes. You purposely saved the best for last: apparently the only lesbian porno in that bastard’s whole cave. When’s the last time you’ve smoochied a coochie?
More importantly, when’s the last time Ellie has? Recently, you assume; She and Dina were too close to only be going on long walks in the woods. The more you smoke, the more your mind wanders where it shouldn’t.
… Your friend is a lover. Always has been, despite her efforts of convincing you, herself — everyone — that she’s emotionally indifferent. Craves affection, both verbal and physical, like she’s deprived. She raves to you about her desires on a weekly basis, for fucks sake! Someone hug the poor girl!
“Feeling better?” You squeak when you plant on the cushion. Ellie nods with a soft grin.
“Thank you.”
Your hands clap together and her body shakes from the recoil. “The night’s not over yet! I got a surprise for you! Happy Birthday!”
“It’s not my birthday… I don’t know my birthday— “
Your smile is laced with grating sarcasm, “Wow, you really know how to kill the vibe! Just play along, goddamn!”
You sigh when her expression flattens.
“Ellie…”
“Yes?”
Oh… That crackly tone did a little something. Cheering Clitorous. Alright. Okay.
“I found a little something in ‘Gene’s special drawer— “
“Aren’t all his drawers special.”
“Aren’t you supposed to be shutting the fuck up.”
Her red eyes widen, but she silences.
“You know what feels really nice after a bad breakup?”
Her middle finger digs into her dry eye, “Getting high and watching porn with the only other lesbian you know?”
“Even better,” Your hand claps down on her jean-clad, uninjured thigh. “Getting high and watching lesbian porn with the only other lesbian you know… while getting head. A true fixer-upper.”
More silence, and your tummy gives a nervous tumble. Eugene’s bud gives you enough courage to make eye contact, and, given any other circumstance, you would’ve hollered laughter at how stunned Ellie looks, eyes nearly stretched beyond her lids, but you don’t. You press on when she denies you.
“You’re lying.”
“Am I?” Your thumb presses the large button in the middle and the screen displays two, three — six women… all sprawled out on white carpet while lewdness shines through their eyes… And not at all the romantic wives fingering each other next to the fireplace like you envisioned. Plus, the music sucks. Who the fuck plays the accordion while bumping cooters?
Your eyes circle around and… Oh, wow. A lot less tame than you were expecting… Are those chains and a paddle?
What the fuck, Eugene.
“Oh, shit.”
Ellie’s either impressed or about to go on a judgmental rampage. You gauge her expression curiously. Her lashes keep fluttering like butterfly wings. You nearly coo audibly. She always does that when she’s excited! What a cutie!
Ellie recites the description at the bottom of the screen, “When six girls go off into the woods for an early 4th of July getaway, conversations take a lustful… and explorative turn. Find out what happens during one late, hot evening after a game of… kiss and blow?”
You snort, “Are you asking me?”
“Well, yeah… The fuck is kiss and blow?”
You shrug, “Find out.”
One click of the remote, and the footage begins… More giggles from Ellie, and something flutters in your chest. You’ll have to watch bad acting with her more often.
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Six minutes into Smoochie the Coochie, and you still don’t know what kiss and blow is. And you don’t care to find out.
High pitched moans and pleasured squeals that almost sound phony rings in your hazy skull as you stare up at your best friend from between her covered legs.
This is the quietest she’s been all night: her eyes are locked on the screen behind you, completely entranced with flushed cheeks by what you assume is the sweatiest, raunchiest… scissoring, is what it’s called? On the screen. Maybe. You’re wired and can’t think straight and Ellie’s hot.
“Are we really doing this right now?”
She whispers when you caress her thigh over her pants, and you nod approvingly. Desperately, but she can’t tell. “Up to you.”
You don’t expect a cold hand to come up and tenderly brush against your cheek. You shudder and nuzzle into it. Sober you would be so embarrassed at how you’re reacting to her affections. You’ve never been the needy one.
“Can we…”
You pout and burn with embarrassment, but start to pull back, “Stop?”
“No, no…” Her eyes meet yours and your body locks. A bit nervous. “I dunno…”
“Tell me.”
“Later.” She whispers.
You stare skeptically as she plays with your earlobe. “I promise I’m good. I want this. I’ll tell you later.”
A pause before you sigh. “Okay. Up.” You pat her thigh and her hips rise. Her unbuttoned jeans are peeled down her legs, gently over her fresh bandage, and tossed beside you. Your body is miles ahead of your brain; before you realize, your lips smack all over her bruised thighs, peppering over the freshly bandaged scars and faded ones. She squirms where she sits, shaky breaths puffing from her lips.
Your mouth travels higher, and an encouraging hand lands on the back of your head, massaging your scalp.
“Tell me what’s happening.” You mumble against her, a blind finger pointing back at the screen.
“I don’t — So much shit is going on. Like… from all directions.”
You smile against her thigh, “Someone catch your attention?”
“I…”
But no explanation is needed. There’s treads of weakness in her growl. Go figure.
“Lemme guess… She look like her?”
If she catches the unwarranted agitation in your tone, she doesn’t mention it. Simply digs her nails into the back of your head. No forceful tugs at your hair, but a warning, and your teeth beam.
“I dunno what the fuck you’re smiling for, but it’s gonna piss me off soon.”
There's a smidge of threat in her voice, so your kisses travel up. A pleasant distraction, given every small twitch of her legs.
Not too long before you reach the hem of her underwear, and you trap it between your teeth before releasing it. Her tummy jolts when the fabric hits her skin, and you go heart-eyed.
“Tell me who you’re looking at.”
“T-The one that brought all that crazy shit to the party.”
Of course. Handcuffs, she means. The large, wooden paddle, she means. A slow drag of your tongue advances up her v-line and her body wracks against her will.
“Crazy in a bad way?” You purr against softness, and she exhales a laugh. “Not in this context, I guess.”
“You like that kinda stuff?”
“How the fuck would I know?”
You snort before your eyes fall, trapped by the small patch of wetness that sticks to her panties. Glues the outline of her lips to the fabric. You’re seconds — inches away from going feral.
Whatever patience you entered with has withered: and with determined hands, Ellie’s underwear gets yanked, pried down her legs and tossed behind you. Your eyes glisten with excitement when they meet the red pearl that twitches in anticipation, walls that leak when the warmth of your breath brushes over the cup of her.
Her pussy’s perfect. A stunner, for sure. You and Cat were never close, but you’d hit her up to get Ellie tatted. Not even in a discreet place. It’d be somewhere where everyone — Dina — can see. On your forehead, for fucks sake—
S-Stop staring at me.
It seemed like the moans behind you became louder. You nearly shove three fingers in Ellie’s mouth as punishment for interrupting the moment, but you choke on a breath. Mumble a slur of you’re cute, can’t help it in an attempt to ease her.
And just when your tongue unravels over your bottom lip, right when Ellie’s taste is millimeters away, right when her breath hitches and her mouth drops open, the loudest crack, very reminiscent of bullets, rings across your small living room. Scares her, scares you enough to steal the attention from the art between her thighs.
The sight on the screen is new, even for you.
It’s not every day you see girls being slung across muscly laps and swatted on the ass with wooden tools with their hands bound behind them while they cry and sob and beg for their masters to hit them harder. You probably would’ve laughed at the theatrics if Ellie wasn’t here, as if you weren't about to go to town on her ten seconds ago. Both your breaths shudder and tremble as raunchy sounds of lips smacking and girls touching themselves and fingering each other split your ears in half.
Your vision tunnels and shifts when a whimper from Ellie rattles through your chest and down your ribcage. She gasps like you’ve caught her doing something bad, but she doesn’t stop whatever she’s doing. Just blushes madly with her hand shoved between her squeezed legs while her eyes flicker between you and the screen.
Time seems to whir and the room spins. The pace of your breath increases, slobbery wheezes syncing with Ellie’s when her legs cross over one another.
Your muscles move you closer, hands planted on either side of her waist, back enlengthening until your eyes are level with hers. Her tongue barely dips to wet her bottom lip, eyes swiftly flickering down to your mouth.
A hand raises right when another crack of a paddle against skin ripples through your speakers, and before Ellie can flinch, your palm caresses her cheek, thumb exploring the divets in her face. Over the healed wounds and fiery specks that hypnotize. You don’t expect her to nuzzle into your touch…
And you definitely don’t expect her arm to start moving, despite its enclosing.
Her eyelids bat, and green pierces through your chest. Over your neck, your face, your shoulders as her bicep twitches. When her lips part around a gasp, you choke.
Lemme see.
Ellie curses under her breath, kisses your palm, and undoes the twining of her legs. Her fingers are gentle where they rest over her pussy, the bones in her hand flexing as her palm digs into her clit, folds smushed around the muscles of her thumb.
That’s how you do it?
Her teeth sink into her bottom lip, masking a smile as her head shakes. Your heart pinches.
Show me how.
Her head falls to the side as her cheeks sizzle.
You first.
You shudder, and your brain scolds. This wasn’t the plan. You were supposed to smoke, watch porn, eat pussy, and escort her home safely.
Not the fucking plan.
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Ellie insisted that you restart Smoochie the Coochie before you undress. For ambiance, she’d said when you stood on two feet, watching as she removed her hoodie. For me? She’d whispered against your cheek, in only a tank top, when you finally positioned yourself on the cushion in front of her. Face to face, pussies almost touching, your knees to the ceiling.
The volume of the footage has been turned down, but the acting… it’s fucking hilarious. You shouldn’t be smiling. You shouldn’t be giggling, but you are.
Ellie moves loose strands of hair behind her ear, grin matching yours.
“Hm?”
“Nothing.”
“Hm.”
Ellie, much to your shock, makes the first move. Again.
Takes your wrist in her hand, brings your limp one up to her mouth to pepper kisses on your knuckles before pressing in between your open thighs. Your fingers are clumsy and your heart pounds against your ribcage, thighs jerking at the sticky contact of your own juices. Ellie's eyes between your legs like a hawk, leant comfortably against the pillows stacked behind her.
Her attention encourages you. You balance on the hand that rests on the couch, grinning playfully around the fingers that sink into your mouth and glide on your tongue. Ellie shakes her head with a small smile before reaching for the lighter and last joint. Sticks the end of it between her lips, flicks the lighter twice, and ignites it.
Every slow exhale of smoke gets rewarded with presses on your clit, your index and middle fingers tickling the sensitive area with learned precision. It pulsates under your fingertips whenever you lock eyes; her eyes are fervent with need, uncontrollably so, and it sends vibrations through your spine.
Slower, Ellie whispers wetly when your touch becomes rushed. Too eager for her liking. She’s always hated when you rush things. Loathes your impatience.
The moans from the film pick up again: shaky and cracked and high. They match yours when you apply just enough pressure on the spot right above your clit. Your walls constrict and slick gushes from, and Ellie curses.
When your fingers explore elsewhere, she sits up suddenly, her breath hitting your mouth when she mutters, Keep touching right there, with a tight hand around your wrist, trying to guide you back to the spot that makes your thighs quake.
I’m gonna cum if I do. There’s warning in your gasp.
Ellie puffs again before huffing a smoky breath, the scent infiltrating your senses. Your fingers almost sink inside, Wasn’t that the plan?
Cum w-with me?
Your voice is pleading, tone almost identical to when you would incessantly pester and follow Ellie around Jackson when you were younger.
Ellie, watch a movie with me?
Ellie, do a puzzle with me?
Ellie, go on a walk with me?
Ellie! Ellie! Ellie!
What used to be innocent invitations have swiftly shifted into something darker, and Ellie needs more. A shocked squeak leaves you when her free hand curls around the back of your neck to smash your lips together. Your hazy mind hadn’t registered Ellie’s fiery stares at your bruised lips, her head tilting in the opposite direction of yours, her nose brushing against yours whenever your fingers made a gooey noise.
Your eyes flutter shut when her tongue sloppily glides over your bottom lip, moans quenchless where they hit Ellie’s tongue. She swallows them down until they jolt in her stomach, and shoves her hand between her thighs once more.
Her fingers are drenched and so are yours; there’s nasty, slicked noises everywhere. From you, from Ellie, from the television that’s been forgotten by both of you.
Ellie’s movements become desperate in a matter of seconds, no longer able to keep up the pace of your kiss. Your separated lips connect only by a thin line of saliva as Ellie gasps hit the skin of your cheek.
Can’t wait to feel you on me.
Your euphoria begs to peak at Ellie’s promise, your fingers massaging all the spots that send you to the stars at a desperate pace, trying to match Ellie’s.
Cum with me, she growls like you did, Cum with me, cum with me, fuck —
Your friend’s name is a prayer on your tongue, shrouded in lust and a longing you’ve forced down to non-existence. You both succumb to pleasure in unison, the pulsing between your thighs synched with hers as she whimpers out.
I wanna tie you up like that. Tie you up? Beat your ass raw and bloody? Whatever she's looking at, you want. You'll take without hassle. Anything for her. After one glance at the screen,
Cumming for you, oh shit—
You wring out your high until there’s nothing left to give her, legs closing around your wrist at the aching sensitivity. Ellie’s head falls onto the arch of your knees, lathering your skin in spit-filled kisses, her soaked hand slowing between her legs.
“Lay down.”
“H-Hm?”
“Lay down,” you croak.
And she does, eyes filled with carnality.
The porno is long forgotten when your head shoves between Ellie’s legs, the tape stuck on the starter screen while her cries of pleasure blend with the same bullshit accordion.
You tongue her with fever, drink down all of her heartbreak that she endured while she was away from the source, mark yourself all over the terrain of her until she shatters with a cry of your name. Drenches your mouth, your tongue, your chin. Pushes you away with a cautious hand when you don’t stop. Flinches with sensitivity.
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“Hold still.”
You swipe the disinfecting wipe over Ellie’s wound, fresh blood leaking into the white cotton. She assembles new bandages where she sits above you, unraveling the sterile fabric for you to wrap her in.
“I’m trying!” She whines, “It still hurts.”
“Shouldn’t have tried to ride my face— “
She flicks your forehead so hard, it thumps like a drum, and you wince before playfully biting her finger.
She snickers and allows you to collect the last bits of blood with the last tarnished rag in your first-aid kit, snagging the bandages from her grasp. She holds down the new gauze and does as she’s told, lifting her thigh on your command as you bind her messy stitches.
Why did you kiss them, though?
It lasted 0.5 seconds. A quick, gentle smack meant to soothe, but your brain doesn’t see it that way. Red alarms glow in every crevice of your cerebrum, urging you to move away from your best friend. You stare at Ellie and Ellie stares back, expression no longer readable and easy-going, and you flinch away from her.
Inviting her over for some innocent porn-watching is one thing… but kissing her without motive? Without the need to progress into something more? It stuns you more than her. You think.
“Sor — sorry — “
Ellie’s already palming at your shoulders, “It’s okay… it’s not a big deal— “
And it’s not. Why does her confirmation bloom a new ache in your chest?
Your knees pop when you hurriedly stand, and Ellie follows, hands sliding down your arms to grab your hands.
“Hey…”
You meet her eyes.
“We’re good… okay? It’s nothing serious.”
Don’t cry. You agree with a grin. One you pray she doesn’t notice cracks in its corners. She says nothing. Just caresses your cheek in unsaid thanks. Thanks for tonight. Thanks for the distraction.
Ellie returns a smile before gathering her clothes off the floor. She dresses in silence as you watch with a sorrowful gleam. Is it selfish to ask her to stay? Would it be too much? Should you? Will you?
It’s when she’s tying her boots up that you say something.
“I can walk you back!”
“I got it. I’m not going straight home.”
Ellie’s denial is calm. Gentle. Not abrasive in the slightest, but your hands quiver and heart swells, bound to burst with dejection. Where is she going? The town is sleeping.
She leaves before you can ask with a promise of seeing you in the morning for breakfast. Nothing unfamiliar, nothing changed.
Tears rock you to sleep, and you’re not sure why.
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#ellie williams smut#ellie williams#ellie williams tlou#ellie x reader#ellie williams x reader#ellie x fem reader#ellie the last of us#lesbian#works 𖧧࣪
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sniffles. suguru getou.
𑄽𑄺 warnings 𑄽𑄺 blackfem!reader, drabble/headcannon, sick!suguru, grumpy!suguru, sweet!suguru,submissive!suguru, dominant! suguru, roleplay, black woman, vaginal penetration, rough, lil bit of sweet talkin’, hair pulling, squirting, creaming, oral [f] [m], choking, praising, LOTS of dirty talk, riding, condomless sex, kissing, spanking, size kink, minors aren’t welcome!
━�� 𝒄𝙤𝒐𝙘𝒉𝙞𝒆𝙛𝒂𝙞𝒓𝙮 𝙩𝒉𝙤𝒖𝙜𝒉𝙩𝒔 .ᐟ i’m just horny. sorry y’all.
ᖭི༏ᖫྀ :: suguru is sick, and you, his girlfriend—just wants to nurse him back to health.
You should’ve brought your key.
Standing across from the door, you impatiently knock again, waiting for your boyfriend to open it. With an unfortunate cold, he’d crawl for dramatics. Suguru was currently suffering with a deadly indignation— his allergies, and you knew that as soon as he felt sick, he was practically on his deathbed. He was already grumpy on a regular basis. His intimidating frame, dark hair and tattoos made him almost scary. But that’s what you loved, you weren’t afraid of what came with him. Here you were, knocking on his door as you awaited for him to answer, holding the bag of medicine and soup he requested.
You roll your eyes as you hear shuffling along the door, yet it doesn’t open.
You then press impatiently, “C’mon, Suguru. You’re not gonna die from walking to the door.”
When the door opens, his broad frame towers over yours, black sweatshirt desperately trying to hide his muscular build, hair wrapped in a bun that nearly fell apart. His strident jaw glares down at you, glasses tilting as his eyes squint beneath the light of the sun. You notice the redness in his nose.
You tilt your head as you greet, “Hey, Sexy,” jokingly seeing his appearance.
He glares at you, his eyes showing no emotion. His allergies were hitting him hard and it was obvious. He was not a whiny man. But in sickness, he would not hide his complaints.
“Shut the fuck up,” He says with a grumble, opening the door wider to let you in nonetheless.
You hold the brown paper bag to your chest, walking in as you turn to him with a soft smile, “I got you some stuff, my little sick pumpkin.”
“I told you I didn’t want all that Mucinex and shit,” he grumbles, flopping himself along the couch, throwing his arms over his face with a groan.
“Oh boy, hush. I told you that it’ll open up your sinuses. Why so grumpy?”
“My ears hurt—all that fuckin’ mouth you got, it’s making my head hurt too,” He says bluntly.
Was he being a little mean? Sure. That didn’t stop you—he didn’t want to admit it yet, but he loved being babied by you, and you knew that. He rolls onto his side, facing away from you as he mumbles something under his breath. Despite his protests, he was happy you were there. He missed you.
“Oh yeah?” You raise an eyebrow, crossing your arms as you turn your head, “Maybe I’ll go back home. Leave you to die in your congestion.”
He freezes at your words, the thought of you leaving and not staying by his side made him want to throw a tantrum. He scoffs and looks away, trying to mask his real feelings.
“Do it then. I don’t need your little ass.”
You roll your eyes. Coming closer, you hop yourself along his lap as his arms are still thrown over his face, the impact making him groan.
You sigh sarcastically, “Poor baby…”
You then smack his arm, “Get the fuck up, Getou. Come take this medicine before I hurt you.”
He grunts at the feeling of you on his lap, peeking behind his arm to fully see you.
“Why should I?”
“Because I have a surprise for you,” you lean into his ear, voice warm and soft, “Don’t you wanna see it?”
He hums at your words, his ears picking up on the word ‘surprise’. He turns to look at you with a slight look of confusion.
“Maybe I do.” He says, his stubborn attitude slowly leaving.
He holds you around your waist with ease, leaning into your affection. Your nurturing aura made him soften his attitude, allowing you to finally take care of him.
He lets out a low grumble before correcting, “Hey, pretty baby.”
“See? All you had to do was be nice,” you kiss his nose, “Hi,” you then say softly, exhaling as you stand from his lap, “Stay here. I’m gonna run to the bathroom, I’ll be back!”
He grunts, allowing you to get up from his lap with no complaints. He missed you again. Nonetheless, he turns on his side, laying down along the couch as he waits for you to come back.
Time passes, the impatience of this man making him sit up along the sofa, manspreading with his head back along the velvet material. As he thought about going up to check on you, he heard your voice.
“Still sick, baby?”
You stand at the door—now in a completely different outfit. Wearing a white button up dress that clings to your frame, it looks to be a nurse’s uniform. It’s sheer, showing all your skin beneath the material, a heart along the chest pocket, your breasts nearly spilling from the top buttons that desperately hold them up. Your heels were tall, red bottoms matching the outfit you wear.
“Are you ready for me to take care of you?”
His eyes lock along your frame, tracing up and down your body hungrily in approval. His mouth went dry at the sight of your curves in the dress.
“You’re gonna’ be the fuckin’ death of me, you know that?”
His eyes scan you all the way down to your shoes before he tells you, “Come here.”
You giggle, “You shouldn’t be speaking to me like that, silly. I’m your nurse!”
You twist your hips as you come forward, pulling the stethoscope from around your neck as you insist, “Now, tell me what’s going on with you, Mr…Getou, is it?”
You looked good enough to eat in that nurse's uniform.
You were right though. You were his nurse. He leaned back into the cushions of the couch, spreading his legs wider to give you enough room to move between them.
He smirks at your comment, his body shifting up against the couch more. He plays along with you as well.
“Yes, it is.” He says, placing a hand on his chest, “I have a really high fever, I need extra care.”
You gasp softly, “A fever? I’m so sorry to hear that!” You shake your head, “May I…check where you feel warm?” You tilt your head, dark wavy hair flowing down to your hip, swaying over your shoulder.
His smirk grows at your words, raising an eyebrow in amusement. He invites, “Go ahead,” watching your soft curls dangle in front of your face.
He moves his body closer, his large frame hovering near you. He rests one hand on the back of the couch, the other coming to rest on the nape of your neck.
You lean closer, pressing your hand against his forehead, “Mmm, feels a little warm here…” you then move it to his neck, “Feels a little warm here as well. What symptoms are you experiencing?”
He leans his head into your touch on his forehead, letting out a sigh from the contact. He then leans his head back, exposing his neck to you, Adam’s apple throbbing. He lets out a low grunt after feeling your hand on it.
“I’m experiencing dizziness, a sore throat...” He takes a moment to speak again, “And I feel very hot in certain places.”
“Hot…” you tsks, “Sounds painful. I think you may need some ice.”
You stand from the sofa, going over to the fridge to grab a cup of ice as you ask, “You’re very…handsome, Mr. Getou. Do you have a girlfriend, if you don’t mind me asking?”
He watched you walk away from him, admiring the curve of your ass and the sway of your hips. He let out a low chuckle at your question, shaking his head slightly.
“Yeah, I do,” he said simply, his gaze never leaving you.
You lean yourself into the fridge, twisting your hips as you sigh, “That’s too bad…the good ones are always taken, it seems.”
His lips curl into a smirk at your comment, his eyes narrowing just slightly. He watches you closely, studying every movement you make.
"I guess it depends on who you ask.”
You raise an eyebrow, “A bad boy, it seems.”
“Shit. Might be.”
You close the fridge as you have some ice water within your hand, making your way back towards him.
“Sorry it took so long—“
It’s swift, you’re good at your game. You purposely trip, the ice water splashing all over your dress.
You gasp, watching as the water soaks into the top of your dress, nipples poking through the material, completely exposing your bare chest.
“Oh my goodness, Mr. Getou. I’m so sorry…”
You lean down, beginning to wipe the floor with the napkin you hold. Your movements are natural as you arch your back, heels pointing towards the ceiling.
He felt his dick jump as you leaned down to clean. He swallows hard, his eyes fixated on you.
“‘Need to be more careful,” He warns you, his voice growing huskier.
“I’m so clumsy…” you pout, “…A patient of mine has never made me this nervous,” you admit with a weak smile, grabbing for the ice that’s still within the cup.
You slow your movements, still in a crawling position as you look up to him, “Are you still feeling…hot?”
He smirks at your words, his body instinctively reacting to yours. He can feel himself getting harder under his pants, his breath hitching in anticipation.
“Hot as fuck. Damn near in hell.”
“I apologize…Let me help you cool down.”
You’re a minx. Taking an ice cube within your mouth, you come forward, crawling your way onto his lap. You take him by his hair and tug his head back, leaning forward, running the ice along his neck, allowing the ice to melt within your mouth as you drag your tongue along his throat.
You murmur, “Is that better?”
His breath hitches as you crawl onto his lap, his body stiffening under your touch. He lets out a low growl at the sensation of the ice melting in your mouth, the coolness seeping into his heated skin.
"That's..." He pauses, trying to gather his thoughts amidst the haze of pleasure, "That's definitely helping."
Your mouth is still cold, moving down his chest, eyes still upon his as you say, “I don’t think your girlfriend would appreciate me assisting you in this way, Mr. Getou…”
"Fuck," he groans, his hands moving to your waist as he pulls you farther onto his lap.
He lets out a low growl at your words, his grip slightly tightens in your hair. He looks down at you, his eyes dark and possessive as he replies.
“She’ll understand. You’re taking very good care of me...” He says, his other hand sliding up your leg, feeling your bare skin.
You laugh, sultry to his ears. You then bring your mouth up to his jaw, stopping right at his lips as you hum, “What if I had a boyfriend…and he killed for me…”
His eyes narrow at your words, a dangerous glint flashing in them. He tightens his grip in your hair slightly, pulling your head back and away from his face.
"You'd let me kill him?"
“…Maybe,” your breath hitches, melting into his hands like putty.
“Then he’d have to put up a good ass fight.” He replies, his voice challenging. He pulls your head back even more, leaning forward and pressing his lips against your ear. “And I don’t lose.”
You’d never done role play before, not expecting him to play along like he was. Despite him not feeling well, he seemed to be enjoying your game. His tone makes you giggle, pulling your face down as you lock your mouth against his, dirtily making out with him, tongue struck out, messily pressing with his.
He let out a groan as your lips crashed against his, the feeling of your tongue in his mouth made him growl and become more aggressive. He grips the back of your head, holding you in place as he greedily kisses you back.
He breaks the kiss momentarily, panting heavily as he looks down at you. "You're fuckin’ sexy when you're like this," he murmurs, his voice husky.
The moment you go to respond, his hands clasps both of your wrists behind your back, trapping you in a way that makes you pout. You enjoyed the feeling of being in control, but you knew he always needed the upper hand.
You roll your eyes, “That’s not fair…”
“Cut that fuckin’ attitude before you don’t get anything from me.”
He uses his other hand to tilt your head to the side, giving him access to your neck. Leaning forward, he presses his lips along the side of your throat and begins sucking on the skin.
You gasp softly at his lips along your skin, knowing the skin of your neck was sensitive. You breathily sigh, “S—Suguru…” tugging at your trapped hands, wanting to be freed.
“You want your hands?”
You nod your head, feeling his other hand now tugging at your hair, sliding down as yanks the material of the dress you wear, spanking the skin of your ass. Your teeth dig into your lips at his aggression, your skin feeling on fire.
“Say out loud what you want.”
You refuse to give in to him, your voice going silent in defiance. He knew exactly what you were doing.
Hm, okay.
His eyes were low as he watched you—evil. He leaned you upwards, his free hand gripping the blood red panties you wore, tugging them to the side, hearing the squelch of your opening that’s throbbing for his attention.
You then feel the heaviness of his dick slap along your ass, fat tip nudging at your folds, making you swallow. You want to protest. But it’s too late— he’s already dropping you down, skin sticking together from your arousal that pulls along his thighs. He’s deep, pinching your insides uncomfortably, overthrown by a rush of devilishly itching pleasure.
He brought his face closer to yours, lips hovering over his mouth as your eyes rolled to the back of your head, head tilting back as a sharp gasp left your lips, dropping your face back down to his as you whimpered.
“Always so stubborn,” he grunts, your hips fully connected, raising you forward and dropping you down again, dreading the pleasure it brings you. He thrusts himself deeper inside of you, gripping your face as you want to hide the warmth in your cheeks, “Nah. You wanted this," he growls, his voice low and rough.
Another gasp pulls from your lips, wrists tugging beneath his as you whimper in a pleading way, calling for him, “B—Baby…”
“Nah, what happened to Mr. Getou? I’m baby now?” Suguru says within your ear.
Your chest rises hastily as pleasure raptures through your body, wanting to touch him, wanting to dig your fingers through his hair. You needed it.
“Don’t wanna hear all that whining shit,” His free hand reaches between your legs, rubbing circles on your clit as he continues to drill you senseless, “Came over here in this little fuckin’ dress. Bounce on my dick like you love it.”
“Sorry, baby…” you whine, his own strength having full control of you, unable to do anything but release moans from your lips, watching the way your body bounces atop of him—all from his one fist holding your hands.
He lets out a low chuckle as you apologize, enjoying the sound of your moans. He moves his head back, watching the way your body moves up and down in his lap. He could feel his body getting hotter and hotter.
“Yeah, I like the sound of that.” He grunts, his voice thick with lust. He keeps a firm grip on your wrists, watching you squirm against him.
“…Mmm….fuck…” you curse, your head tilting back, hair moving with you, “W—wait, baby…I…wanna touch you…please…”
"Touch me where?" he asks, his voice dripping with amusement. "I'm fuckin’ deep inside you."
He gives your wrists another squeeze, keeping them pinned behind you. He continues to thrust up into you, feeling your pussy tighten around his dick.
"’Getting tight as fuck, baby. Open up. Need you to relax. Let me fuck you. Beg a little harder, too. You can do better,” He demands, his grip on your wrists tightening even more.
“So mean…” you mewl, “‘Know I like touching you…”
You try to gain control, but he’s stronger. He uses one hand to hold you down, dropping you up and down ruthlessly, his other hand readjusting your legs to where your feet are planted on both sides of his legs, evil again in trapping you like this.
“You like when I’m mean. Admit that shit.”
It’s like a dam had broken out into a river, your mouth dropping open as no noise released for a moment. You then brokenly moan, gasping deeply as you begin talking to him, “You’re in control baby. Love it when you’re in control….don’t stop….o—oh my….baby…baby…”
He felt a sense of pride, knowing that he was the one who made you like this. He leans his head forward, his lips just barely touching the side of your jaw.
“So fuckin’ needy,” he says lowly, “Begging and squirming on my lap.” He lets out a low growl. “So desperate.”
He thrusts up into you harder, faster, driving himself deeper inside of you. He can feel your wetness coating his length, the slick sounds of your bodies colliding filling the room.
“Fuck, baby...you're creaming, such a pretty fuckin’ sight,” he groans, his voice thick with desire. He reaches up, grabbing onto your breast roughly, squeezing it in his hands.
“So desperate,” you repeat, “…Need to touch you baby, please. Please. Please.”
He watches as your eyes roll back, a low growl leaving his lips. He lets go of your wrists completely, moving both of his hands down to grip your hips.
“I’m hot, Nurse, I need you to take care of me.” His fingers dig into your skin, needing you to touch him. “Help me.”
This is all you wanted. You wrap your arms around his neck, digging your fingers into his hair as you lean your jaw into his cheek, positioning yourself to pleasure him. Your lips are directly by his ear as you begin to raise up your hips before dropping them down, your moans becoming infinitely louder the second you do so.
"Ooh, shit. That’s fuckin’ good, baby,” he murmurs, his voice husky with desire as he roughly spanks you, the sound echoing against the apartment. "Taking care of me so well." He grips your hips tighter, guiding your movements on top of him.
"…Fuck...you're so wet..." he grunts, feeling your pussy clench around him again. He thrusts up into you harder, meeting each of your downward motions. He can’t stop talking to you.
"Oh my fuckin’ god, baby...that feels so good," he groans, his head falling back against the couch.
Your eyes well with pleasurable tears, a soft sob coming from your lips as you bounce on top of him, eyes fluttering back into your head as you messily moan, “Ohhh…my god. Baby…I…agh….baby….”
He listens to your pleas, his breathing heavy and ragged. He can't help but smile, hearing how desperate you are for him.
"You're so fuckin’ sexy, baby," he groans, gripping your hips tightly. "Ride me good, baby. Make yourself squirt all on my dick. Know how good that feels for you,” He thrusts up into you harder, his tip throbbing inside.
He moves one of his hands, gripping the back of your head and bringing your lips to his mouth. He kisses you hungrily, his other hand gripping your hip tightly as he continues to guide you.
You attempt to kiss him back, your mouth relaxed under his, still open as you moan loudly, tears sprayed against your cheeks as you bounce even harder on top of him, skin creating a loud sound. You feel like you could go into shock at the way your eyes roll, your chest heaving as your nails dig into his back.
When your hips raise, you feel yourself beginning to squirt, gasping, walls quelling as you drop back down, “T—Talk to me, baby… need to hear your voice. Love your voice. So fucking…” you whine loudly, “Pretty.”
He feels your tears against his cheek as he kisses you, moans filling his ears and driving him wild. He pulls you up as he runs his fingers against your core, sliding them deep into you as he groans, slamming them in to feel your walls retract, gushing out more as you continue to squirt. Your face is red, unable to breathe properly as he pulls them out to spank you, “Need you to do that shit again. Gonna make you.”
When he kisses your cries into his mouth, he remembers your plea. He reluctantly pulls his lips from yours, his own breath heavy and ragged. “My voice?” he asks, his hand grip tightening in your hair. “You want me to talk, baby?”
You nod your head, tears falling from your eyes in complete euphoria as you whimper deeply, “Yes, baby…” you hiccup, “Yes. Yeahh. Yes.”
“You like how I sound, baby?” he says, his voice deep and gruff. “You like how I talk?” He pulls you head back, exposing your neck. “You like how I moan?”
“Love it,” you groan, swirling your hips around to prove your point, “Love it so. Fucking…” you can barely get out your words, gasping through them, “So much, baby…” back to whimpering, more tears falling.
He can feel himself getting closer, needing you just as much as you needed him.
“I’m gonna need you to take care of me a little more,” he moans in your ear, his lips trailing down to your neck, sucking and biting at the skin. “You know how to take care of me, baby…I need you to.”
Your legs feel like they’re going numb, at this point, you feel like you’re about to black out. The feeling of you slowing down makes him grunt irritatedly.
Just like that, he switches your position swiftly to where you bend along the sofa, Suguru now behind you. He twists your hair in his fist, slamming back inside making you gasp out. You reach behind yourself to where he snatches your hands behind your back.
His thrusts become erratic, his hips slapping against your ass hard enough to leave red prints on your skin. He tightens his hold on your hair, pulling your head back further to expose your neck.
"I'm close, baby," he growls in your ear, nipping at your lobe. "Gonna fill you up so good."
He grinds his length against your folds, teasing you mercilessly before he thrusts back inside, hitting spots that make you squeal. He fucks you hard, his thrusts rough and unyielding.
“You know just how I like it, don’t you baby?” he leans his head forward, his lip right next to your ear. “You’d do anything to please me, wouldn’t you?”
“Anything, baby,” you groan.
The groan hums out into a long moan, your back arching beneath him, feeling as his hand clasps your throat from behind to keep you in place.
He’s relentless, taking a moment to lean down as he tells you, “Haven’t ate my pussy, baby. Need that shit.”
He’s still holding your wrists, leaning down as he locks his mouth around your core, swirling his head in circles, groaning as he dips his tongue in and out of you just to taste how in love you were with him.
His lips pull away from your pussy, a wet pop sounding through the room as he does. He releases your wrists, his hands moving to grip your hips tightly. With a loud growl, he thrusts back inside of you, his dick filling you completely.
"You're mine," he grunts, biting down gently on your shoulder. "Only ever been mine."
He leans himself up to where your body is beneath his, tilting your neck back to where you’re forced to look up at him from behind. His chin lays along your forehead as your mouth is parted open, hips shaking at his rough connection from his hips.
You tremble, “Oh my god, baby. Oh my god….”
Your sounds are almost animalistic as you grunt, panting as it shrills into a deep cry, entire body shaking, hearing as that makes him arrogantly chuckle.
He grips at your hair, his mouth hovering over your ear. “You love it when I make you feel this way, baby?”
Your eyes are closed as you sob, talking through each connection of your hips, twisting your neck around and watching his movements as you quiver out, “Yes, baby…don’t stop. Don’t stop, please…please…pleasee.”
“You want me to keep going, baby?” he groans, “I’ll give you whatever you want.”
“Cumming…cumming….baby…oh…oh…fuckkk.”
You swallow, gasping as you dig your nails into the sofa. Your entire body falls apart, barely moving as your hips completely halt, trembling as your body explodes in raptures. Your arousal gushes out again—it practically seeps through his thrusts. His hand tightens around your throat as you groan, clutching your eyes shut as you sob out, body shaking as if you’ve been tased.
His thrusts slow down, becoming more sensual rather than rough. He can feel your pussy clench around him, milking him for everything he's worth. Your orgasm triggers his own, he grunts loudly, his cum shooting out in thick spurts as he buries himself deep within you.
You’re both breathing heavily, feeling the intensity of your session. Suguru’s unable to help himself as his palm slams on your ass again, leaving you to only whimper in response, making him chuckle.
“I’m sensitive…” you muffle against the sofa, hiding your warm face as you awkwardly laugh to yourself.
Suguru chuckles darkly, rolling off of you to lay beside you. He reaches over, running a hand through your hair soothingly. "Sorry, baby," he murmurs, kissing your temple. "Didn't mean to hit too hard."
You peak back, “Oh, now you’re all nice to me? Thought you were sick, huh? Lying ass.”
Like clockwork, he’s back to his usual grumpiness. He spanks you again, ducking the swing you give him at that as he says, “Yeah, whatever. Maybe pussy was my medicine. Now come give me that stupid ass mucinex.”
“Fuck you. Do it your damn self.”
“I love you too.”
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