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inbabylontheywept · 5 months ago

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she was dead silent on the drive home, but that was okay. sometimes, after band practice, she was just out of words. it was a short drive to her house. the only part where it actually felt weird was after i pulled up her parent’s driveway.

after that, the silence stretched so far it smeared and left a weird residue. she kept looking at the car door like she wanted to leave, so i looked at the door too, then she looked at me, and i looked at her, and my first thought was that she was going to tell me that the door was stuck. i was used to that car always doing some damn thing. it was the car me and all my siblings had learned to drive in, and it was really beat to hell. there were dents all over the body, which we’d unsuccessfully tried fixing up with spackle. it had looked nice for maybe a week, but then the sun wrecked it - the spackle cracked up like the mud on the bottom of a dry riverbed and turned a sort of off yellow-white that made the car looked like it had been molded out of chicken shit. it also had a bullet hole it through the cabin that whistled like a toothless old man whenever the car went above 40, so loud it could drown out the radio, and a cabin that smelled so strongly of bugspray that even the arizona summer we drove everywhere we could with the windows down.

(if you have kids one day, you will maybe, possibly, begin to understand how much i loved that car.)

anyway, i was thinking about what else could possibly be wrong with the chickenshitmobile, and she just kept looking at me, and then i wondered if there was something on my face, and she just kept looking at me, and then the penny dropped and i realized she was trying to work up the nerve to break up with me.

now, i’d seen her work up the nerve to do things like this before – it could take quite a while. and knowing it was about to happen made the waiting immediately unbearable.

so i said hey.

and she looked at me, very startled, and said hey back real small. like she’d been caught. and in a way, i suppose she had.

and i said it’s okay. you can just say it. i’ll be okay.

i’m always okay.

and she said: i’m really sorry.

i loved her, you know? it was highschool, but teenagers are capable of love. the way people love changes over time just as much as the way they stand, or the way they talk, but things don’t stop existing just because they're different. opposite really – a thing only stops changing when it's fully gone.

and i said, nothing to be sorry for, and i meant it. she looked a little relived, and i was happy to give her that peace. then she left. i watched her make it through the front door, because that was just habit at that point, and then i sat there a while afterwards, checking how i felt. and the answer was not good, but good enough to make it home. good enough to limp on.

so i put my car in reverse, took my last look goodbye, and immediately backed into her neighbor’s car.

crunch.

air bags didn't go off, which was good. i left a decent dent in the bumper of the other car. genuinely couldn’t tell if i did anything to my car – anything wrong with it just kind of blended together into the general ecosystem of hand mottled, sun cracked, chickenshit spackle.

i checked my glove box, and my car insurance info was, of course, out of date. my phone was dead too. as a teenager, my phone was less my lifeline to my friends, and more my tether to my parents, so i wasn’t particularly conscious of keeping it charged. both my fault.

i sat there a few minutes, trying to think of the best way to handle things, and there was only one answer i could think of, and i hated that answer, so i spent a few more minutes trying and failing to think of a better one, and then a few more coming to peace with what had to be done.

then i went back to knock on my now ex’s front door.

her dad opened, which i was very relieved over, even if he seemed less than thrilled. he looked me over, and in a firm, but slightly apologetic way said: she does not want to see you right now.

(i think he assumed i was going to try and talk her out of the break up?)

and i said not here for her. i just backed into your neighbor’s car, and i need to call my dad, but my phone’s dead. could i borrow yours?

and he looked at me, then back at his neighbors car, which sure enough was dented, then he looked at the chickenshitmobile, and if there was something wrong with it, it just kind of blended into the general Wrongness of the car, then back to me, and i could see him imagining the last ten minutes from my pov: getting broken up with, backing into a car, having to walk up to your exes door and borrow a phone, calling my dad to tell him that i just reversed into someone.

and his expression shifted from stern and apologetic to truly sad, which felt more kind that i deserved. things only got here because i kept fucking up - forgot to look behind me, forgot to replace the insurance forms, forgot to charge my phone. it was my mess, but his sympathy meant the world to me. i probably would’ve cried if he said sorry, or patted me on the back or called me sport, but instead he said

stay out here – i’ll bring you a phone.

and then he left.

i found a nice spot on the lawn in the shade under a sycamore, then settled into his grass.i was trying not to freak out, and was doing an okay job. he came out a minute or so later, not just with a phone, but a juicebox and a jar of green olives, which really threw a wrench in the whole try not to cry thing. soon as i saw those, a few tears squoze out. i was still hoping i could pass them off as Manly Tears but then he told me that he’d gotten the olives a few weeks before and had been meaning to hand them off to me, and that this was his last chance for that. then i made a sound like a horse drowning in a bog, and he patted my back pretty rough, four solid thumps, like he wasn't sure if i was crying or choking on an olive, and was trying to cover both bases at once.

then he went back inside, and i made a few more bog horse noises while finishing off the rest of the entire jar of green olives, and then i called my dad.

he was about ten minutes away that day, and luckily was home. he drove over, and we went to the neighbor’s house, and from there things actually went quite nice. the neighbor was a retired man who actually said he could fix the dent himself, no need for insurance. he said he appreciated that i didn't just drive off, and i said i was really sorry about his car, and he said he was really sorry about my car, and then he gestured to the chickenshitmobile and i laughed because it really was a disaster on wheels.

then we left.

i thought we were going to head straight home, but instead we went to a gas station, and we both got several slim jims that we folded into thick enough coils that we could put them on a hotdog bun because the growing up mormon equivalent of having a sad brewski with your dad is just choosing to make bad decisions sober. then he took me to the canals and we watched the sun turn all orange and pink, and he looked over at me and said:

brains are good at remembering bad days. so you gotta make sure that a bad day has a good part in in, so you can remember that too. remember that when you have a kid. try to do a good job on days like that - they're going to be a big part of how they remember you.

and then he gave me a big hug and said he was never going to eat another slim jim again.

---

the year after that i went to college, which kicked my butt in new and exciting ways. and on a lot of those bad days, after a test that went sour, or a faux paus that was particularly embarrassing, or some other hardship of my new adult life, i’d stop by the gas station and pick up leathery, half jerkied hotdog before heading to the canals to watch the sun set. i’d take a bite and imagine my dad next to me, grimacing through the slim-jim wad, asking what good thing i was going use that time to remember.

and in my head, i’d say you, dad.

i’m going to remember you.

#babylon-lore #dad lore #stories #breakups #gas station hotdogs #i really like green olives okay #i dont have a sense of smell so if food isnt like WHAM in the flavor department it just doesnt do a lot for me #in my sophomore year i ate so many homemade pickles that i actually got a wee bit of scurvy #major autism L

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lovegasmic · 1 month ago

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──── . THE ONE WHO FELL FIRST, AND THE ONE WHO FELL HARDER ; SUKUNA × F!READER.

꒰ request : Sukuna is a popular businessman, nice to everyone but you, thinking you managed to plot everything to marry him. the wrong accusations only cause him to have conflicted emotions and unable to admit he's falling for you ꒱.

𝜗𝜚 modern au ◞ angst to fluff / slow burn◞ forced marriage◞ reader is a business student and also comes from a slightly rich family◞ req from around august im so sorry ◞ 3K WORDS BABEY ★ taglist

wasting precious time in such a banal thing like your feelings, was something Sukuna was not willing to do.

time was money, and he knew you liked the latter, or else why would you even consider marrying him?

the deal was not yours or Sukuna’s idea, of course it had to be a dumb old man with equal old beliefs like “a man your age must be already married and stable” bullshit, Sukuna had enough wealth and health to be worrying about not finding a wife or getting onto procreating an heir.

but for the pink haired man, his investors were more important than his own family, so, he agreed.

and of course, one of them happened to be your own father.

the man was not stupid, with that hand rubbing and gruff voice while luring Sukuna into considering a marriage that would benefit both parties, almost like a leach attached to the pink haired by the hip until he gave in.

Sukuna knew you, of course he did, the pretty girl who tried to mingle in those boring business parties that were nothing but a place to brag about each one of their successful companies.

and you always were there, listening, almost as if testing who could be a suiting partner, the richest the better.

for him, you were just another money grubber on the list, truly a pretty girl like you must have thousands of suitors knocking on your door, yet you subtly but excitedly agreed on the deal, eyes almost shinning as if you were already imagining Sukuna’s millions in the bank

he scoffs at the thought, his idiotic self had to fall, didn’t he? right into the trap.

the champagne is a tad bitter due to the circumstances, the golden beverage that usually slid down his throat quite smoothly was now dry, leaving a gross aftertaste, perhaps the champagne was not the issue, but this whole fucked up lie.

hands clasped and congratulations were given, each one welcomed by a polite and quite charming smile from Sukuna, as if he was genuinely happy, although you knew otherwise.

the man was so kind, a bit stuck up like most businessmen, but that did not stop him from chit chatting with friends and other people in the business, asking about their families and such, to which you observed with a smile, genuinely happy to be found in a marriage with at least a decent man.

but when his attention turned to you, he was a whole new person, that smile fading and sticking to a stone cold mask that always stuck when speaking to you, solely to you.

“Sukuna—” you try, shoes clicking on the luxury wooden floor of his mansion, where you now resided as well, there was no honeymoon as you, —naively, expected, almost bouncing on your spot as the limousine drove away from the wedding reception, perhaps the cute lingerie set you got underneath will be useful.

but no, how your heart crushed upon the sight of the mansion, nor a helicopter or private jet to take you to some sort of fancy and private spot. instead, all you got was silent as Sukuna climbed off the car, already loosening his tie as soon as the butler opened the door, your hurried steps behind and the limo’s trunk filled with your belongings.

“let the butler show you your room” is what he interrupts with, the suit jacket tossed onto a nearby couch which a maid was quick to fold, almost making your face burn in embarrassment at your husband’s dismissal in front of other people.

you stop for a second, blinking confused before following him still, “my room? what do you mean with my room? aren’t we sleeping in the same bedroom?”

how naive, and Sukuna’s scoff followed by a cruel laugh is just adding onto your embarrassment, “i don’t believe so, sweetheart” that last word sounds so cruel right now, “you already got the fame and money you wanted, i’m not going to indulge your spoiled princess whims”

the door slams shut and you freeze, unsure about what just happened.

the first night was unnecessarily cold, the lingerie forgotten in an empty drawer and the luggage you brought from home all stacked up in a corner of the wide room, everything lacked of color, of life, there was no wall decors, white sheets and comforters, beige curtains against boring beige walls, and of course, the warmth of the man you have longed for so long was missing.

deciding to blame the wedding nerves on Sukuna’s foul mood from the day before, making the bed and opening the curtains to allow the gentle breeze in from a barely open window that had a perfect view to the perfect backyard garden and pool.

the day was beautiful, and so you joined the chef to chat a little meanwhile Sukuna came downstairs with a serious expression like the day before, “good morning” is all he says before sitting down on the dining table, not sparing you another glance or waiting for you to sit as well as he already began on his breakfast.

“good morning, did you sleep well?” you try, again, and fail, again, since Sukuna doesn’t even reply, wiping his lips with a smooth movement that your eyes longer on, “the room you gave me is quite nice” your brain begs you to stop talking, “i just thought it’s a bit too dull, don’t you agree?”

“...”

“maybe we can buy some decorations, or if you’re too busy I can do it on my own!”

“you’d love that, wouldn’t you?”

you blink, once, twice, “excuse me?”

“nothing” he stands up, the chair dragging on the ground and a napkin left on the emoji plate, “i have business to attend to, don’t bother me” with a thank you to the chef, Sukuna leaves again towards what you think must be his home office.

what you don’t know is the fact that Sukuna double checks all of his credit cards to be in place, muttering a “that damn gold digger woman”

life with Sukuna was not going to be as quiet and calm as you thought, almost two days later after your first night at your new home, Sukuna brought in the news of some charity ball you ‘had’ to attend to, of course, a place to show around how your marriage was perfectly fine, how he was stable like those dumb old men said, but at least, the appearance of a married man will definitely be successful for future partnerships.

with a mental slap, the pink haired man turned on his spot as soon as you walked down the stairs, looking ethereal with the dress he got you under the threat of “not wanting you to embarrass him” a longer look and he would have probably said something nice, and you did not deserve it.

“let’s go” he says gruff, not even opening the Benz door for you to climb in, but you did not mind, you were not really expecting anything from him anymore.

“you look good” is what you say instead, and his hands clench a little around the wheel, keeping his eyes ahead without a response.

for a second you wondered if Sukuna had some sort of double personality, he was cold and serious to you, but as soon as you stepped into the gala, his hand tightened on your waist, and a kind and even soft smile plastered on his face while greeting the other guests.

your parents were there, and your husband simply rolled his eyes at the sight of your father sporting a self praising smile at the sight of your fancy attire and multiple diamond jewels decorating your neck, wrist and fingers.

unable to deny how well you behaved yourself, and so as the hours passed, his thumb unconsciously began to rub up and down on your waist, chatting with a casual and soft look that made your heart skip a beat. this was the man you fell in love with.

a little too good to be truth, since as soon as you got back home, the usual stoic Sukuna came back, “perhaps you’re not as useless as I thought”

that should not have hurt as much as it did, you were already used to Sukuna’s dismissals, to his mean comments about wanting to suck his money like some sort of leech, about how you should stick to your own business and stop pestering him, but that really hurt.

so this time, it’s you who turns and leaves.

a little shaky sigh leaves his lips, splashing cold water onto his face to ease the strange thoughts inside his head, was he too mean? that can’t be, you deserve it, you were nothing but a gold digger, a walking… temptation.

“fuck…” he grips the bathroom sink until his knuckles turn white, the previous night kept repeating on his head, over and over again, the look on your eyes, his harsh words and the way you left without a word, why did his heart was thumping so hard?

with another curse he leaves his room, grumbling and sliding his fingers through his hair to comb it back, just to stand frozen on his spot at the sight of you all dressed and holding a bag on your shoulder, “where are you going?” the words leave before he can stop them.

the look on your eyes is a bit duller than usual and that hurts bad, “to school” you say as if it’s the most obvious thing.

“what—”

“i’m running late, we’ll talk later” and you leave just like that, leaving Sukuna with a frown and a look of disbelief that pushes the previous guilt to the back of his head.

“this damn brat”

although it was barely a week after your wedding, the whole attention his employees have you was, overwhelming, with big smiles and attentions showered as soon as you stepped into the fancy building, swinging your bag over your shoulder as a lovely, and way too cheerful, —probably fake, woman guided you to the elevator, explaining which floor to take to meet your husband.

you scoff inwardly, you’ve been to this building multiple times in the past, although just as a shadow, as a nobody, now that the boss was your husband everything was awfully over the top.

“sit, and explain” straight to the point, how kind was your husband.

with a sigh and a click of the door you sit on the chair opposite to his desk, “i told you I was going to school”

“what does that even fucking mean? are you a teacher? student? I truly hope you don’t mean highschool or i’m sending you to jail”

“what the…, no, of course not, I mean university, ugh”

“that’s better” his shoulders relax back but his eyes are still narrowed and hands in front of him, it was a bit funny, “explain”

“you really don’t know anything, do you?” you lean back and hum, “i’m at two semesters from getting my business degree”

“why haven’t you told me?”

“you never asked” you swear Sukuna’s eye twitches slightly.

“from now on I don’t want you to keep secrets from me, you’re my wife, I must know”

“oh, so i’m your wife now?”

another twitch, “you are my wife, whether we like it or not”

whether we like it or not. those words kept replaying, you liked it, or at least that is what you thought before.

your younger self would have been giggling and kicking her feet at the sole thought of marrying Sukuna, the man you admired and observed from afar when you were still a bit too young to approach him, barely out of highschool and your inner self longed for the man, saving his pictures on your phone and setting it as screensaver.

how ridiculous, you now thought, closing the first magazine you bought and sliding it under your pillow, the one that, of course, had Sukuna on the cover, and the one that inspired you to follow his path and get into business school.

fairy tales were now ridiculous, what you thought could be a perfect life with the man of your dreams turned into morning and goodnight greetings alongside some forced chats and questions about whereabouts.

but instead of sulking, you did what was best, shop.

the sudden sound of voices outside brought Sukuna from his thoughts and piles of paperwork, immediately standing up to step into the living room, only to be greeted by the sight of multiple men carrying boxes inside the house, “what the fuck is all this?” he asks with a low and almost scary tone, one to which you’ve grown used to.

“decoration for the house, I told you I was going to buy it” you reply nonchalant, and Sukuna couldn’t deny the way you look kinda cute with that rolled up sleeves shirt and overalls, like damn bob the builder.

unconsciously Sukuna taps his back pocket, checking his wallet, “i mean, with what money you got all this?”

“huh? with mine, obviously”

“your what?”

“what? did you seriously think I lived from your money? please, I am very dependable, thank you very much” you scoff with a frown, Sukuna did not had to know the many business you invested in with a capital from your father, which you obviously paid back and now the percentages of profit in said business just kept increasing to your good luck.

“i didn’t mean—” no, he totally did mean to imply you are a gold digger, but now… with this, things were a bit different.

he scratches his cheek, standing next to you with his towering form as you observe the boxes getting placed into the living room, yet the pink haired’s eyes remain on your side, on the way your brows are knitted in annoyance and the soft cute pout on your mouth.

you mess with his head, and now with his house, wonderful.

so ask him why he’s unpacking boxes and moving the few paintings you bought according to your commands, “up, up, a little to the right, a little more, there, perfect!” you beam and climb onto the stool to hammer a nail into the wall and allow Sukuna to hang the painting.

the maids, the butler are all gone under Sukuna’s order, and most likely gossiping over the development of the couple’s relationship.

“i should sue you for making me work unpaid” for the first time, Sukuna teases, slumped on the couch with his shirt a bit unbuttoned and his eyes locked on the way you placed a few cat like ceramics near the chimney, under the large picture frame of your wedding.

“you are soooo exaggerated” you roll your eyes with a little chuckle, “you won’t die from a little bit of hand work”

“maybe not, but my hands will get calloused because of you”

“oh, i’m sorry i’m messing with your princess hands, I will give you my creams if that makes you happy”

his smirk widens, “hey, the only princess here is you”

it really is the little details, month after month, and you notice how his behavior is slowly improving, he is no longer mean or cold, nor he leaves you speaking to yourself anymore, surprisingly he joins you on the couch now, with an arm around the back of it and over your head, yet sometimes you feel his fingers playing with the hair at the top of your head.

he is smiling, big and happy with a package under his arm, he remembers when you bought items for the house, but the floral silky set of sheets you wanted ran out of stock before you could get it, and the defeated look on your face haven’t left since.

he is a good husband, the best husband you could ask for!

“wait” where did that thought even came from?, and why was his face slightly hot, shit, shit.

never mind, he keeps mumbling to himself, hurrying to your bedroom before you arrive from your classes and is quick to undo your bed to change it into the cute sheets set.

but as he is hasty tugging the fabric, something comes flying from under your pillow.

he kneels to grab it, and his face just shows shock at the sight of it, he remembers that too well, the first magazine cover he ever did, his most proud moment and you had a copy, all those years, and so he turns the pages until it lands on the column, there's stickers and pink pen scribbles around, some words highlighted and even one or two hearts drawn around.

the pen ink was slightly worn out as if it was written years ago, and the idea makes his heart clench.

“... got some from the store, where are yo—” you both stand frozen, eyes on each other and the mess of sheets, fuck the surprise, “what are you doing?” your heart drops at the sight of Sukuna’s awestruck expression while holding the magazine open, “t-that’s personal, you know?”

“i- know, I should not have but…, when did you write this?”

how unavoidable was the conversation, “like two years ago” your gaze drifts to a side.

“did you�� were you in love with me or something?” he gulps.

what was the point of denying it anymore, so you nod.

“where you or… are you?” and you softly nod again, avoiding his gaze.

“fuck” he mutters, sliding a hand through his hair in frustration, “fuck, i’m sorry”

“huh? what—”

for the second time you can’t finish a sentence before Sukuna is stomping to you, an arm around your waist and the other on your cheek before your lips clash together, it’s tender but also raw and needy.

“i’m sorry, i should have never been so rude to you, I was an idiot and thought you just wanted my money” even after the kiss he does not let you go.

“what? but I never asked for a penny”

“i know” he says even a tad frustrated, “i know, i should have trusted you”

“it’s okay, I mean, I would also be suspicious of someone who suddenly agreed to marry me without even knowing each other”

“but still…” he is still not letting you downplay the situation and his part of blame.

“Kuna, I promise it’s okay” you smile just like you always do that makes his heart melt, “i love you, and that’s all it matters”

a soft sigh leaves him, sliding a palm over your cheek, and suddenly the ring on his finger is just the perfect color that contrast your skin, “yeah, I love you too”

additional part of Sukuna finding the lingerie lmao

#lovegasmic writes sukuna #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna x reader #sukuna fluff #Sukuna angst #ryomen sukuna fluff #ryomen sukuna x you #sukuna x you #jjk x reader fluff #jjk x you #jjk fluff #jjk angst #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader angst #jujutsu kaisen x reader fluff #jujutsu kaisen fic #sukuna fic #sukuna fanfic

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greengoblinswifey · 3 months ago

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Breaking Innocence—Fratboy!Nicholas Chavez x Fem!Reader

summary— you fall for shy, sweet fratboy!nicholas who’s different from his cocky frat brothers <3

warnings— innocent!nicholas, sub!nicholas, dom!reader, loss of virginity, oral, unprotected sex, creampie, strip tease, dry humping, face sitting, praise kink, fluff.

a/n— this might be an on going au series so requests are open for frat!boy nicholas or him in general <3

You were known around campus, the popular girl everyone seemed to have their eyes on, but you didn’t have time for the typical crowd of college guys. Most of them, especially the frat boys, had a one-track mind, and you’d long since figured out they only saw you as a conquest, something to fuck and be praised for it. You’d shut down every attempt, disinterested in their shallow flirting and relentless pursuit.

Then, one afternoon on campus, you were mid-scroll on your phone, drink in hand, when someone collided with you.

“Watch where you’re going!” you snapped, not in the mood for another run-in with some cocky frat boy.

“Sorry! I’m really, I didn’t mean to—” he stammered, looking genuinely horrified, and you stopped. The guy in front of you wasn’t like the others. He was tall, muscular, and had this almost awkward sweetness, eyes widening like he was caught doing something wrong. He barely met your gaze, shuffling a bit like he wanted to melt into the ground.

You felt a small grin creep onto your face. “You always this clumsy?” you teased, watching him flush.

“N-no, I just, I didn’t see you there, sorry,” he managed, voice soft but earnest. And then, after a second, he surprised you. “Could I, maybe get your number?” He scratched the back of his neck, his nerves obvious.

Something in you softened. You weren’t used to guys who seemed this genuine, this…different? So you handed him your number, and he looked up at you, a glimmer of disbelief in his eyes. “Thanks. I’ll, um, text you later.”

As he walked away, your friend leaned over, eyeing you curiously. “That’s Nicholas Chavez,” she whispered. “He’s in Theatre Arts. Heard he wants to be an actor.”

You felt a flicker of intrigue. The shy frat boy wanted to act? Nicholas was already proving to be unlike anyone else around here.

As evening rolled around, you were in your dorm room, putting the final touches on your makeup and slipping into a sexy dress that you knew would turn heads. Your phone buzzed, a text from an unknown number.

Unknown: “Hey Y/N! I was wondering…would you like to have dinner with me tonight? I know it's short notice, and totally fine if you can't!”

Then, almost immediately:

Nicholas: “It's Nicholas, by the way…Nicholas Chavez.”

You laughed at his nervousness, finding it unexpectedly charming. Quickly, you typed back, “Sure, I’d love to. I’m on the east side of campus.” He replied instantly, “Great! I’ll pick you up at 7.”

Right on time, you heard a knock. Opening the door, you caught the look in his eyes as they widened, taking in your outfit. "Wow, you look incredible," he said, clearly a little stunned.

You smiled, “Thank you.” Then you noticed the flowers he was holding. “Are those…for me?”

“Yeah,” he said, blushing slightly, “I thought you might like them.”

“I love them, thanks, I’ll go put them in some water.”

As you headed to his car, he opened the door for you, and you settled in. The ride to the restaurant was filled with light conversation, but you caught his shy glances in your direction.

At the restaurant, he was every bit the gentleman, pulling out your chair and making sure you were comfortable. As you sat, you couldn’t help but notice how his nervousness seemed to melt away as you talked about everything from your favorite movies to his passion for acting.

When the check arrived, you reached for your purse. “I can pay my share, seriously.”

He shook his head, insisting with a smile, “No way. I asked you out, so I’m paying.”

After dinner, he drove you back, and as he walked you to your door, he paused, his hands nervously fidgeting. “I really had a great time tonight, I hope we can do it again sometime?”

You surprised yourself, not quite believing the words as they came out. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

Nicholas grinned, his excitement clear. “Awesome. I’ll text you later?”

You nodded, and with one last smile, he turned and walked away, leaving you with a sense of anticipation you hadn’t felt in a while.

The next day, word spread across campus about Nicholas’ fraternity hosting a big “End of Halloween” party. You were tempted to skip, knowing the frat’s reputation, but when Nicholas texted, personally inviting you, you decided to go, mostly because of him.

Dressed to kill, you arrived at the frat house with your friends. Nicholas was waiting outside, leaning against his car, and his face lit up when he saw you. His hand hovered protectively over your back as he guided you through the crowded party, never letting you out of sight. Once you were settled on a couch, he disappeared to grab drinks from the kitchen.

Just then, Connor, one of the frat’s popular members and a guy you’d briefly entertained in the past, slid up beside you, smirking. “Didn’t think I’d see you here,” he teased. “Thought you ghosted me for no reason.”

You raised an eyebrow, replying, “I cut you off because you’re an asshole…with a not-so-impressive dick size, I might add.” The party nearby burst into laughter, Connor’s face going red as he tried to stammer a comeback.

Before he could say anything else, Nicholas returned, stepping between you and Connor. “Is there a problem here?” Nicholas asked, his voice calm but firm.

Connor sneered. “Oh, so this is the guy you’re fucking now? Figures.” He turned to Nicholas. “Better watch out. She’s just a—”

You cut him off sharply, “I’m a ‘what,’ Connor? A whore? Funny, considering you never even got close.” The party erupted with laughter again as Connor glared, defeated, and stormed off.

Nicholas handed you your drink, clearly impressed. “Thanks for standing up for me,” you said, touching his arm.

His cheeks turned slightly pink. “Anytime,” he replied, flashing a shy smile.

After a few drinks, you felt the alcohol kicking in, and the music pulled you to the dance floor. Grabbing Nicholas by the hand, you started dancing, pressing your body against him and grinding to the beat. He was shy at first, but he reluctantly wrapped his hands around your waist, his face a mix of excitement and nervousness.

You glanced back at him, laughing. “Loosen up, Nick. We’re just dancing!”

He chuckled, stammering, “I-I know, I just, wasn’t expecting- this.”

But he was smiling, and you could tell he was enjoying every second. You took his hand and slowly guided it over your body, letting him feel the curves along your waist, your hips, and your thighs. Then, you turned to face him, your gaze locking with his as you moved closer. Feeling him rock hard against you, a smirk played on your lips as you pulled his hands up, guiding him to grab your ass firmly. You swayed together to the music, electricity buzzing in every touch.

As someone passed by with drinks, you reached out, grabbed one, and took a sip. The alcohol was strong, sending a rush through you. Without a word, you leaned in and pressed your lips to his, transferring the drink in a slow, heated kiss. He was taken aback but quickly melted into it, swallowing as the taste mingled between you.

“Didn’t expect that,” he murmured, his voice low and husky.

You grinned up at him, feeling bold. “Stick around; I’m full of surprises.”

His hand moved back to your waist, drawing you even closer. “I’m counting on it.” He was getting bold too.

He leaned down, his forehead against yours as you both dirty danced to the music blaring over the speakers. It felt like you were the only ones in your own little bubble.

“Do you wanna go back to my dorm?”

His eyes widened, and he stuttered, “Y-yes! I mean, sure!” You laughed, grabbing his hand and leading him through the party, the noise fading behind you as you made your way to your side of the campus.

“Why are we going there?” he asked, curiosity etched on his face.

You glanced back at him with a mischievous grin. “Shh, you’ll see.”

Once you reached your dorm, you opened the door and gestured for him to sit on the bed. “Stay here, I’ll be right back.”

As you stepped into the bathroom, you quickly took off your clothes, leaving yourself in just your lingerie. A flutter of nerves washed over you as you contemplated whether you should really go through with this, he was still one of the frat boys after all. With a deep breath, you stepped back out into the room, and his jaw dropped at the sight of you.

“Close your mouth, Nicholas,” you teased, your heart racing.

“Wow, you’re- so- wow. Um, you’re beautiful,” he stammered, his cheeks flushing.

You bit your lip, feeling confident, and stood between his legs. Taking his hands, you guided them across your body, letting him feel the curves beneath your delicate lingerie.

“Can I?” he asked, his voice a mix of eagerness and uncertainty.

You nodded, leaning in to kiss his neck, then tugging at his shirt. “Let’s see what’s under here,” you murmured, pulling it off to reveal his toned chest. You didn’t expect this shy, awkward guy to be a Greek god beneath those clothes.

As he leaned closer, you began making out, feeling the heat build between you. His hands explored your body and the air thickened with anticipation.

You sank to your knees, your hands gliding from his firm chest down his abs. Your lips followed, leaving a trail of soft kisses that made him shiver under your touch. As you reached the waistband of his boxers, you looked up at him, noticing the nervous anticipation in his eyes.

When you gently tugged them down, his face flushed a deep red. He stammered, “Y-you really don’t have to.”

But as you took him in, you felt a thrill. “Shy guys really do surprise you,” you murmured, grinning up at him, which only seemed to make him blush more. He was huge. The biggest you’d ever had, if you were being honest.

As you began, his hands gripped the edge of the bed, and he gasped, “You— you're amazing.” His voice grew breathy, and he looked down, struggling to keep himself together.

When he was close, he tried to pull back. “W-wait, I’m about to—”

You simply held him in place, and his protests dissolved into a moan as you continued sucking and slurping his cum as he released into your mouth. Afterward, he looked down at you in awe. “You really didn’t have to, but wow, you’re amazing.”

You smiled and leaned up, and he pulled you close, pressing a kiss to your lips, surprising both of you with the intensity. He cupped your cheeks, tongue sucking on yours as he hummed, tasting himself in your mouth.

You nudged him back gently, stepping away with a sly smile. Slowly, you began to slip out of your lingerie, giving him a strip tease as he watched, entranced, his breath hitching. His gaze roamed over you, and you could see the effect you had on him, his entire body tensing and his dick hard and leaking as you played with yourself, then finally turned and bent over, offering him a full view.

Pushing him down onto the bed, you grinned at the way he looked up at you. “I want you to- sit on my face,” he said, his voice barely a whisper but full of confidence.

“Are you sure?” you teased, hovering over him.

“Sit,” he insisted, guiding you down until you were close enough, and then he pulled you fully down, his mouth on you with a hunger you hadn’t expected. His tongue explored with an intensity that left you gasping, his hands gripping your hips as he delved deeper. “Just like that, I wanna taste every part of you,” he murmured between breaths, and the sound of his voice sent you over the edge. You couldn’t hold back, your body responding fully, and you leaned into him, gripping his hair as he drew everything out of you and you squirted.

Catching your breath, you looked down at him, amazed. “You- you’re the first to make me squirt like that,” you said softly.

He smiled, a hint of pride flashing across his face. But then he hesitated. “I, uh- I should probably tell you… I’m a virgin.”

You smiled, taking his hand in yours. “Hey, there’s nothing to be embarrassed about,” you said gently. “It’s actually… kind of sweet.” You ran your fingers over his jaw. “Do you want me to help you feel good?”

He looked away, then back up at you, and nodded.

“Use your words, Nicholas,” you teased.

“I want you to take my virginity,” he said, his gaze unwavering.

As you straddled him, you both took in a sharp breath. The connection between you was powerful, both of you feeling it as you moved closer, slowly sinking down until his cock filled you completely. The feeling left you both gripping each other, your breaths mingling as you adjusted, the feeling almost overwhelming but perfect.

“Oh my fucking god, you’re so big, stretching me so good,” you gasped.

Nicholas' hands moved to your hips, guiding you as he leaned in, his mouth tracing a warm path to your collarbone before lowering to your hard brown nipples. His lips wrapped around them, sending shivers through your whole body as he took his time, savoring each kiss, each movement. You began to ride him slowly, letting every inch of his dick fill you as you took in the moment, enjoying how he reacted to each shift of your hips, his moans becoming more and more uninhibited.

As the rhythm built, you started moving faster, grinding against him, feeling the heat between you both reaching its peak. “I’m- I’m so close,” you whispered breathlessly.

“Me too,” he groaned, his voice heavy with need.

“It’s okay, sweetheart, I want you to,” you reassured him, pulling him close. Moments later, he cried out, your name on his lips, his hands gripping you tightly as you both reached that final, perfect high together.

Breathing heavily, you both lay back for a moment, catching your breath. But as you glanced over, you noticed he was still just as eager, his cock hard. You lay down, opening your arms to him with a soft smile, and he shifted to take his place above you. His movements were careful but passionate, each thrust deep and unhurried, as he leaned in close, your legs wrapping around him as you whispered, “Tell me how good it feels sweetie.”

“So good,” he answered between breaths. “You feel incredible.”

His voice sent a rush of warmth through you, and you pulled him closer, murmuring, “Tell me how much you love my pussy.”

“I love it,” he admitted, his eyes locked on yours, his voice sincere, “I love your pussy.”

As you both reached that final peak, everything else faded away, leaving only the closeness between you. When it was over, he collapsed beside you, a soft smile on his face. “That was amazing,” he said, his voice full of gratitude.

You reached over, your fingers tracing gentle running through his hair. “I’m glad you enjoyed it,” you murmured, and when he looked up, his eyes shy, he quietly asked, “Can you hold me?”

“Of course,” you replied, pulling him close as his head rested on your chest, your fingers running softly through his hair. There, wrapped in each other’s warmth, you both drifted into a comfortable silence, feeling the connection between you deepen with every moment and he soon fell asleep on your chest. His soft, cute snores filling the room.

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poguehearted77 · 3 months ago

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Oh, Baby!

Summary-> Today is Rafe's birthday and you're determined to throw him the best surprise party before the baby comes in a few days.

☆Some more content from the baby steps couple☆

It was a warm summer night, the kind where the air hummed softly with the songs of crickets and a gentle breeze whispered through the trees. The streets were quiet as you and Rafe drove home, the headlights illuminating the road ahead. The stars sparkled in the clear sky above, but they paled in comparison to the anticipation bubbling in your chest.

“I just wish you’d checked to see that the restaurant had space before we came all the way here,” Rafe sighed, his grip firm on the wheel. He glanced over at you, his brow furrowed slightly.

You bit your lip, hiding a smile. You’d already called the restaurant weeks ago and knew they were fully booked. That was the whole point. You needed an excuse to get Rafe dressed up in the nicest clothes the two of you could find without him getting suspicious. It was his birthday, after all, and you wanted tonight to be perfect.

"It was supposed to be one of our final nights together with just the two of us," you murmured, playing your part with feigned disappointment. Your hand rested on the swell of your nine-months-pregnant belly.

The truth was, you’d been planning this for the past month—tirelessly working around Rafe’s attentive nature to keep it a secret. He knew you too well, always noticing the slightest change in your demeanour, and you had to put on the performance of your life.

If he’d caught wind of what you were up to, he’d have put a stop to it immediately. Rafe would’ve thrown a fit if he knew you were doing all this while so close to your due date.

When the two of you finally pulled into the driveway of your generously sized home, Rafe parked the car and came around to your side to help you out, as always. He offered his hand, his protectiveness shining through, and you accepted with a grateful smile.

He makes a teasing remark about your slight waddle, "She's comin' any day now isn't she?" You sigh, "I hope so, but she seems to be getting comfortable." Your eyes glimmer as you watch Rafe unlock the front door. But as soon as the door opened, the quiet night erupted into shouts of “Surprise!”

Rafe’s jaw dropped slightly, and for the first time in a long while, you saw genuine shock in his eyes. The foyer was filled with friends and family, grinning and clapping, balloons crowding the ceiling.

Rafe blinked, then broke into a wide grin, pointing at you. “I knew you were up to something,” he said, shaking his head in disbelief.

You laughed, leaning into him as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders and pulled you close, his other hand gently resting over your baby bump. “Happy birthday,” you whispered, feeling his lips press to your temple in gratitude.

You led everyone through the house to the backyard, and that’s when the real surprise hit. The backyard was transformed into a magical wonderland of twinkling fairy lights strung overhead, long tables set with glowing candles, and cozy seating arranged perfectly under the night sky. It was breathtaking.

Rafe took a slow step forward, his gaze sweeping across the setup, a mix of awe and emotion crossing his face. “Wow,” he said softly, looking down at you before his expression morphed into one of concern. “Please tell me you didn't set this up, Y/n.”

You smiled up at him, your eyes sparkling. “Calm down, I made John B and Topper do it,” you admitted with a cheeky grin. Rafe let out a short laugh, his brows raising. “John B and Topper? Together? Without killing each other?”

“Barely,” you teased. “I supervised, don’t worry.”

He was about to respond when a small voice broke through the chatter. “Happy birthday, Uncle Rafe!”

A little whirlwind of blonde curls and bright eyes ran toward him—it was three-year-old JJ in a white frilly dress. Rafe crouched down and scooped her up with ease, laughing as she wrapped her tiny arms around his neck.

“Thanks, sunshine,” he said, tossing her gently in the air.

As you watched him, surrounded by loved ones, holding little JJ close, and smiling brighter than you’d seen in a while, you felt the weight of your efforts melt away. It was all worth it. This was a night you’d both remember forever.

Maybe you'd be lucky to erase the forming memory of the radiating pain that coursed through your abdomen. You found yourself fisting the hand towels in the guest bathroom after your bladder incontinence had caught up to you during the middle of Rafe's speech.

God, what did you eat today? Your stomach had been hurting ever since you came back from the restaurant even though you never ate there. Sometimes you get a break, other times there's a sharp reminder shooting through you. Of course, you considered the possibility of contractions but you denied it.

There was no way in hell you were letting this baby come out on Rafe's birthday.

There's a knock on the door. "Just a second--!" Your voice is hoarse, the words coming out through clenched teeth. "Y/n? It's Sarah." With a deep breath, you reach for the door, revealing the pleasant face of your sister-in-law.

"Is everything okay? Rafe is looking for you." You nod, "Yep, everything's--" Another one. Your jaw clenches and your eyes close, doing your best to focus on the conversation at hand. By the time your eyes opened, Sarah was sliding past you into the bathroom.

"Why's the floor all wet.." Her eyes slowly trail from the wet tiles back up to you where you were still gripping the towel in your right palm. Oblivious to the gears grinding in her mind. "Oh shit." You shake your head over and over, immediately shutting the door on you both.

"Sarah, No. No! You can't tell anyone. It's Rafe's birthday." She couldn't believe what she was hearing, her brows furrowed, "Are you joking? You're in labour! You have to tell him and you have to get to the hospital like now."

"No, Please! Just give me 20 minutes, then I'll go." She couldn't believe she was actually considering it but the sheer look of desperation in your eyes convinced her.

"Fine, and not one second more or I'll deliver your baby myself." She threatens with a smile but she's a Cameron, she means every word. "I love you!" You whistle as you head upstairs to change into a different dress and meet everyone back outside.

"Baby, where did you go for so long? What's with the outfit change?" Your eyes are briefly distracted by the servers gracefully floating around the yard with the requested entrées. "O-oh, I started to feel a little hot in the other one--so," There's a contraction, not as bad as some of the others but you're able to suppress it and blame it on thirst.

"Here," He gets you a glass of water and helps you into your chair on the side of his at the head of the table. As if you'd forgotten the itinerary of the party you planned yourself, you're almost startled when the slide show of nearly all the images you could find of Rafe throughout the years is displayed on the projector.

He turns in his seat to glance at you, "You did not," It was all too much for him. You're the woman of his dreams, going above and beyond to show him how much he means to you and this was just a small example of proof.

The slideshow is touching, cute, and funny when the images of baby Rafe covered in pasta pop up. Once it's over John B suggests you say a few words. Kelce and his childish antics start a chant "Speech! Speech! Speech!" Your eyes roll, and with a minor struggle, you rise to your feet, Rafe standing beside you.

"Thank you all for coming, and helping me celebrate Rafe's 25th--" Oh boy, this was a big one, your mouth falls open in a silent cry and your right hand claws into the meat of Rafe's upper arm, it's so tight that he leans into it and his face contorts with discomfort and worry.

The electronic music is still playing softly in the background as all eyes are on you. "Y/n, Y/n, Are you--" Your lip is caught between your teeth bearing down with the pain, nodding aggressively. "We're having the baby!?" He panics but a huge smile is etched onto his features. "We're having the baby." You confirm and he hugs you.

The table is filled with cheers and glasses clinking together. "Go! Go!" Sarah shouts, and you both spring into action. At least Rafe does, he nearly leaves you behind with all the nerves running through his system.

Helping you back inside the house before he runs up the stairs, skipping two steps at a time, quickly coming down with the baby bag you'd both prepared weeks ago.

The next hour is a blur, one second you're standing in your living room waiting for Rafe to bring down your things, and suddenly you're in a backless hospital gown being strapped into the hospital bed, hooked up like a computer.

There are IVs, heart monitors, and everything else you could identify from your binge sessions of Grey's Anatomy.

“Mrs. Cameron?” A voice cut through the haze as the door opened. The doctor entered, glancing down at the clipboard in her hands. Her calm expression faltered as she scanned the notes. “Oh, wow,” she muttered under her breath before looking up at you.

“Is... is everything okay?” you asked nervously, gripping the bed’s railing as you shot a glance at Rafe, who was perched anxiously at your bedside.

“Everything’s fine,” the doctor assured you quickly, though her tone carried a note of disbelief. “But I have to say—I’m a little shocked at how far along you are.”

Your stomach dropped. “Far along? What do you mean?”

“You’re already at nine centimetres,” the doctor explained, flipping another page on her clipboard. “You’re practically ready to push.” That is not what you wanted to hear.

Your eyes widened in disbelief. “Wait—nine? That fast? But I barely knew I was in labour until a few hours ago!” Rafe glances at you in agreement before doing a double take. "A few hours? I thought you just found out at dinner?"

"I knew since we left the restaurant." You coyly admit, and his eyes practically bulge from their sockets. "That was hours ago! Why didn't you tell me?" He seemed almost hurt but his concern overtook it.

"Because it's your birthday, I didn't want the baby to steal your day." He leans up, his gaze softening at your words. "Oh baby, I'd be so lucky to share my birthday with her." His words fall on deaf ears and you pout, eyes glancing at the clock.

10:47

"Well, Mrs. Cameron. It's almost time to start pushing, we're going to transfer you to the delivery room." Everything happened so quickly. Your gaze can hardly focus on anything in the halls as you are pushed past them.

There's one familiar sensation that remained an unchanged variable throughout the whole process. The reassuring hold of Rafe's hand with yours. No matter what, he held on.

When you squeezed his hand so tight with every laborious push. "You're doing good, just a few more pushes and she'll be crowning." Your body throws itself back, defeated. Eyes heavy and your hair sticking to your forehead as you wept.

"I can't, I can't do it. I'm sorry." Rafe's eyes turn mournful, wishing he could take on this pain for you. "Hey, hey. None of that. You're a Cameron now. We get shit done, and you're doing it. You're doing so well, baby. Just keep going, and I'll be right here with you, okay? I love you." He gently moves the hairs sticking to your forehead, placing a chaste kiss on your knuckles. His words give you the strength to keep going.

"Give us another big push in three, two, one-" Your throat is ripped raw from the pained shouts, but it was so worth it. It’s not long before you finally welcomed your baby girl into the world, at 12:01am.

"She's perfect," Rafe says, in awe of his newborn daughter who's delicately swaddled in those hospital blankets at peace in your hold. She looked up at you with her glassy eyes, lips moving in ways that Rafe could swear were a tribute to you.

"I can't believe she came out of me," It's an untraditional thing for one to say after giving birth but it's how you felt. You were still in disbelief at the whole process. From the day you looked at those two lines on that pregnancy test in St. Tropaz, to the gender reveal on the beach all the way to this very moment.

"You did amazing," Rafe reassures you and only a few moments pass where you enjoy the peace of the new reality of your tiny family. There's a soft knock on the door, and Sarah's head pops in awaiting clearance to be let in.

"Come in," You giggle, so excited to introduce her to her aunt, uncle and cousin. John B's face is overcome with shock and Sarah's with glee while JJ focuses on what she wants.

"Oh my god, she's so precious." Sarah beams as she peers over to get a closer look, and you offer her up into her aunt's hold. "What's her name?" John B is the first to ask, and Rafe grins down at you. "Say hello to, Melody Ava Cameron."

Sarah's eyes immediately misted over, she'd been told about the pleasant encounter you both had at the beach with a very lively toddler, but you knew that wasn't the name that touched her the most. "Melody? You named her after mom?" Rafe nods, a tear slipping from his eye as well.

You knew how much she meant to both of them before she passed, you couldn't think of a better name. Rafe places an arm around his sister as they both admire the baby.

"It's a perfect name, I love it. Congratulations."

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fireinmoonshot · 6 months ago

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surprise | tyler owens x reader

Pairing: Tyler Owens x Reader Summary: You drive to Oklahoma to surprise Tyler before a chase after he's had a stressful week. Warnings: Tyler calls reader baby. Other than that, I think there's nothing! Word Count: 1.2k A/N: I randomly had this idea after I rewatched Twisters tonight and thought it was so cute so I had to write it. I am also working on some requests you guys have sent in, just have been having a crazy few days at work so I haven't had the chance to finish and post them – but they're coming! For now, enjoy this! 💗

The second that Tyler stops the truck, it’s practically swarmed by tens of fans, all wanting an autograph and a selfie and the chance to see the famous Tornado Wranglers in person. The gas station is packed to the brim full of actual professional storm chasers and amateurs. You would consider yourself to be neither.

From your spot across the parking lot, you watch as Tyler exits the car, yelling his famous catchphrase: “If you feel it…”, the fans finishing it off with “chase it!” You’re leant up against the door of your own car, a smile on your face as you see the smile on Tyler’s. He almost always takes the time to greet everyone that’s come out to see them, signing photos and taking selfies. His stash of pre-signed photos that he keeps in his car always coming in handy.

Dating the one and only Tyler Owens, famous storm chaser, was not something for the weak. You’d known that from the very start. To anyone else, it’d probably bother them, having to wait for him to interact with all of the fans before he could make his way over to you. But for you? You love being able to watch him, see the genuine joy on his face at meeting the people who had changed his life by watching their once little Youtube videos. You wish you got to do it more often.

You know that when Tyler does eventually spot you, it’ll be worth all the waiting, worth the hours of solo driving you’d done alone to get here. Nearly seven hours of driving from your home in Arkansas just to surprise your boyfriend. He’d been stressed lately with the lack of storms across Oklahoma and the neighbouring states along Tornado Alley, wondering what was going to happen to their channel if they couldn’t produce content for it.

But the sight of everyone still taking selfies with the Wranglers proves to you that Tyler has nothing to worry about at all. You can see the Tornado Wranglers have a loyal fanbase.

You watch for a few more minutes, stifling a yawn as you do. You’d stopped after five hours of driving last night and spent the night at a motel which had given you one of the worst nights sleep of your life, and done the last few hours in the morning before arriving at the gas station that Tyler had told you they were headed to today. It was the closest gas station to where storms were predicted today, hence the crowd.

You’re about to start wandering over towards Tyler and the other Wranglers, still making their way through the crowd of fans, when you can see Tyler spot you. He’s just finished taking a selfie with a middle-aged woman when he stops in his tracks, eyes settling on you. Even from your distance, you can tell he’s spotted you.

It’s confirmed when he mutters a quick word to the people around him before he takes off at a run, straight towards you. He kicks up dust and dirt as he runs, trying to get to you as quickly as possible. You can’t keep the smile off your face as he gets closer.

“Baby, what the hell!?” He yells, not long before he reaches you.

Tyler almost knocks the wind out of you as he barrels into you, wrapping his arms around your body and lifting you off the ground. He spins you around in a circle and it’s impossible not to laugh at the feeling, his arms tight around you. He sets you back down on the ground and pulls away, hands still resting on your waist.

“Surprise,” you grin at him.

“You drove all this way just to surprise me?” Tyler looks at you in awe, his eyes both filled with an immense amount of love as well as a tinge of worry. “Baby, that’s a seven hour drive. Didn’t you have a shift yesterday? Please don’t tell me you drove all night.”

You shake your head. “I only drove till midnight, then I stopped at a motel. Promise.”

Tyler moves one of his hands to cup your cheek before he leans in and presses a kiss to your forehead. “You’re insane, y’know that? Drivin’ till midnight after an eight hour shift. You should’ve told me. What if something had happened to you on the road?”

You can see the worry etched on his face so you waste no time in pulling him in for a hug again, burying your face in his chest. Tyler reacts immediately, gently resting one of his hands on the side of your head. You feel him take a deep breath, taking everything in, taking your presence in.

“Ty, nothing happened. I’m here, I’m safe. I’m with you.”

He nods and rubs one of his hands up and down your back. “Thank you for comin’, baby. You have no idea how good it feels to be holdin’ you right now. When I looked over here and I saw you… was like everything felt like it might actually be okay.”

“Cause it will be, Ty,” you assure him. “But I do feel a little bad for tearing you away from the people that didn’t get selfies or autographs with you before you ran off.”

Tyler pulls away from the hug, but he still keeps a hand on you. “You got nothin’ to feel bad about, baby. I promise you that. And they all know who you are, I’m sure they get it.”

You smile up at him and then have to stifle another yawn. Your attempt at hiding it fails spectacularly, though, and Tyler narrows his eyes at you.

“Did you get any sleep last night?” One of his hands rests on your cheek again, a thumb gently stroking back and forth over your cheek.

“A little,” you say. “The motel was kinda dodgy. The mattress was like a rock.”

Tyler gives you one of his best unimpressed looks and shakes his head. “Okay, I’m sending you back to our motel. I’ll give you my room key, it’s in the truck, and you can go and rest up while we try and chase this storm this afternoon.”

“No, no,” you disagree. “I’m comin’ with you, Ty. I didn’t drive all this way just to be cooped up in some motel watching your chase on a computer screen. I gotta steal my seat back from Boone. He’s been gettin’ way too comfortable up there.”

Tyler let out a laugh and leans down to gently peck your lips. “Oh, baby, you know that seat belongs to you. And believe me, Boone knows it too.”

He attempts to step backwards, then, but you’re quick to move, placing one of your hands on the back of his neck and bringing his lips back to yours. Tyler has no objections, wrapping his arms around your waist as he kisses you back. It’s been weeks since he last saw you, weeks since he got to kiss you like this. You’re surprised he managed to hold off on it for so long after reuniting with you.

“Come on,” you say after breaking apart from the kiss. You reach down and grab Tyler’s hand in yours, weaving your fingers through his. “Let’s go give the rest of these people their autographs and selfies and get me my seat back.”

Tyler grins, giving your hand a squeeze. “Lead the way, baby.”

#tyler owens #tyler owens x you #tyler owens x reader #twisters #twisters x reader #twisters x you #twisters 2024 #tyler owens fanfic #twisters fanfic

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hopefullhearts · 6 months ago

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Sickeningly Sweet [Scott Miller x Reader - Twisters]

summary: You are Tyler Owens' childhood best friend and member of his storm chasing crew. A storm outbreak means you and the gang cross paths with Storm Par on more than one occasion, and your sweet southern charm drives Scott crazy (in more than one way).

content warnings: somewhat heated kissing, no use of y/n, light name-calling/teasing, not proofread/bad writing (I have not written a fanfic in forever), bad taste in candy, & i think that is all!

word count: 3.5k

a/n: I have not written or posted on tumblr in SO long but I saw Twisters for the glenn powell craze and left with a scott/david corenswet obsession and these thoughts must come out of my head.

Shoutout to @hederasgarden and @sailor-aviator for leading the charge for the Scott girlies. All of their writings and drabbles inspired me to write this one, so check them out!

If people like this I might do a smutty part 2! I don't mind writing smut I just feel like it's not very good hahaha but let me know what you think!

You heavily resented the idea that guys and girls could not just be friends, because you'd be damned if Tyler Owens wasn't the best friend you ever had.

You met on the playground in Kindergarten. A boy pushed you off a swing, Tyler defended your honor, and the rest was history.

Tyler's overprotective streak made you view him like the brother you never had, and that's how your relationship remained. He was family, and that was that.

Tyler had always been interested in tornadoes, more specifically, how to track and predict them. You, on the other hand, hated science, including weather, but you loved the thrill of the chase.

In college, you studied marketing while Tyler studied meteorology. So, when Tyler had the idea to start streaming his storm chases, you were right there with him to help grow his brand.

Tyler knows he would be stupid not to credit you with all his success. You set up his streaming account, you edited all the clips and drone footage to post to his social media after the fact, and you even gave him the idea for the "Tornado Wrangler" nickname.

Now that everything was off the ground, you mostly put together streaming highlights and designed the merch, but you were right there in the backseat for every single chase, soaking up all the thrills.

This particular storm outbreak was expected to be a big one, so the whole crew strapped in for a week of bad weather, cheap motel rooms, and of course, a few run-ins with other chasers, including the guys from Storm Par.

"Storm Par's here." You said, gesturing to the fleet of white vans parked at the gas station you had just pulled up to.

"Of course they are." Tyler sighed. "There's probably going to be a lot of damage done by these storms for them to swoop in on. Just ignore them."

"No, we should be polite." You chastised him. "I'm gonna go say hi. Will you get me a cherry coke please?"

Tyler fought back an eye-roll, but nodded with a smile as you both got out of the car. "Of course."

Like everyone else in the crew, the Storm Par guys got on your last nerve. They were all a bunch of Ivy League grads who thought a more expensive degree made them better than everyone else.

However, being raised by your Mama, the epitome of Southern grace and charm, you always put a smile on your face and treated them with kindness. You even occasionally brought them food or coffee if you ran into them in the aftermath of a storm.

And even though you were blissfully unaware of the fact, this drove Scott absolutely mad.

"Hi Scott, Javi." You said cheerfully to the two boys in charge.

Scott replied with a grunt, but Javi was quick to greet you with genuine enthusiasm. "Hey! How are you?"

"I'm doing well." You nodded, smoothing your hands over your athleisure skirt. "Excited for a good chase today. How about you guys?"

"Us too." Javi nodded. "We're hoping to finally get some solid data collection today."

"Ah." You nodded, unsure what to say. You hated the idea of what they were collecting data for, but Javi seemed like a nice enough guy, and Tyler ripped on them enough for the both of you.

"Something on your mind there, princess?" Scott finally spoke, glancing away from his tablet to look down on you (literally and figuratively).

You rolled your eyes. While you would normally love to be called a princess, it always sounded like an insult coming from Scott, his voice always laced with a touch of venom.

"No, nothing at all." You smiled. "Just wondering if we'll see you guys in the aftermath if there's any damage done?"

"Why? Are you looking to increase your t-shirt sales?"

You bit your tongue, doing your best to hold your composure and not let him get to you.

"Nope, just trying to figure out if we need to make some extra to-go boxes for you guys." You decided to focus your gaze on Javi instead, finding him less intimidating.

Javi opened his mouth to speak, but Scott beat him to the punch. "I think we can find food on our own, thanks."

You took a deep breath, choosing your next words carefully. "Okay, well, the offer always stands if you change your mind."

Javi smiled and nodded. "As much as I want to see a good storm today, let's hope we don't have a ton of damage clean up."

You smiled. You knew he had a heart.

"That's something we both can agree on." You grinned. "Stay safe out there you guys!"

With that, you turned and walked away. Scott watched you go, your hair and skirt blowing side to side in the wind.

"Stay safe out there you guys." Scott mocked you under his breath.

"Yo, you don't always have to be a jerk to her, you know."

Scott gave him an unamused look. "She comes out here with her little boyfriend, selling his t-shirts and shit, and then skips over here like we're the best of friends with her thick southern accent. It's all fake."

"For one, I don't think Owens is her boyfriend." Javi corrected. "And two, I think she's just a genuinely nice person. She always says hello, even when everyone else in their crew ignores us like the plague."

"Whatever." Scott mumbled.

As you reached the truck, you took the ice-cold Coca-Cola bottle from Tyler's outstretched hand.

"Thank you!" You said excitedly, twisting the cap off to take a sip.

"How are dumb and dumber?" Tyler teased.

"Javi was nice." You informed him. "Scott was... there."

"Ah, yes." Tyler laughed. "Word on the street is he's a man of many words."

"Right." You agreed sarcastically. "But, when he does speak to me, he always calls me princess, and it drives me crazy."

"In what way?" Tyler said, failing to hold back a smirk.

It took you a moment to realize what he was implying, but when you did, you were mortified,

"Tyler Owens!" You gasped, your face flushing red with embarrassment.

""I'm just teasing you! You make it too easy." He laughed loudly. "In my defense, he looks like exactly like every boyfriend you've ever had."

Your face got even warmer, because he was exactly right. You had a weakness for tall, muscular, dark-haired men, and you especially loved a man who was a challenge.

"That is...irrelevant." You said, covering your face in your hands out of pure embarrassment.

Tyler held his hands up in surrender, as you rushed to talk about anything but Scott. "Let's just figure out what storm we're going after, you jerk." You insulted Tyler, but the smile on your face was ear to ear.

Scott watched the interaction from afar, and his chest twisted at your sickeningly sweet smile. Even if you weren't Owens' girlfriend, your closeness was evident. He ignored the burning feeling that was rising within him, not wanting to question why it was there in the first place.

Tornadoes were scary, but trying to understand how he felt about you? Terrifying.

"Alright, boss man, which storm are we chasing?" Javi pulled him out of his thoughts with a hand clapped on his shoulder, and he finally pulled his gaze away from your smile, the sound of your laughter fading into the background.

The storm was bad.

It hit a small town of about 3,000 people, and you estimated based on the initial damage scene that it was an EF3 at best, maybe even an EF4.

You were currently handing out anything that might be helpful to families who had been impacted by the tornado - blankets, water, heat lamps. pre-made sandwiches and cookies. You tried to offer them any comfort you could with a smile and hug, but you understood the devastation they felt all too well.

In the early days, you would try to help with the damage cleanup, but Tyler insisted that you stay back at the camper and talk to the families.

At first, you were insulted, and you thought that Tyler was insinuating you weren't strong enough to move heavy tree limbs or pieces of drywall. You finally asked him about it one day, and he laughed.

"Absolutely not!" He insisted. "You just have this energy around you that's calming, and these families need that. Your empathy and kindness are doing much more for them right now than cleaning up a bunch of rubble would."

You had never thought of it like that, but once Tyler pointed it out, it became your mission to be the solace that these families in crisis needed.

"Is there anything else we can do for you, Mrs. Smith?" You asked, rubbing the arms of a middle-aged woman who you had been speaking to for a few minutes now.

"No, thank you." She sniffled. "I really appreciate you guys being here. God bless you."

You smiled, giving her another hug. "Please let us know if there's anything more we can do to help."

She nodded, walking away to join her family, who were staring at the remains of their house.

You pushed back tears, feeling silly that this never got any easier for you, but also focused on being the anchor that these folks needed.

Scott saw you before you saw him. He watched you from afar as you did your work. He watched you force a smile and hold these people as they cried. He also watched you look up to blink back the tears before taking a deep breath and moving on to the next.

And damn if it didn't drive him nuts.

This job is easier when he doesn't get involved with the people impacted. It's easier to pretend not to care. But watching you pour your heart out to strangers, just because it's the right thing to do? It made his heart jump, and that scared him.

Ignoring the people involved and ignoring his feelings for you had become increasingly more difficult with every chase.

"Scott!" You called, approaching him with a styrofoam container in your hand.

He sighed, mentally preparing himself as you literally bounced over to him.

How the hell does someone look this good after taking on a tornado?

"Here." You offered him the container. "It's just a ham and cheese sandwich and a cookie."

"I'm really not hungry." He responded.

"Seriously?" You asked, not buying it. "We've all been chasing since 10 AM and it's nearly 8, you have to be hungry."

Scott shrugged, trying to hold back the things he really wanted to say.

"Fine." You sighed. "We're right over here if you change your mind."

"Yeah, I know princess. It's hard to miss you being the town's savior over there."

Scott watched you visibly retract and he internally screamed as his heart dropped. You probably hated him, but it didn't matter anyway. You were far too sweet for him, so putting a wedge between the two of you seemed to be the smartest way to outrun his feelings.

"Wow." You spoke, your voice much smaller and shakier than usual. "I knew you were sarcastic and maybe even a little mean, but I never thought you were actually cruel. So, thanks, for enlightening me."

And with that, you turned and strutted off. This time, you failed to fight back the tears as you returned to the camper.

And to your horror, Tyler was there, taking a break from clean up for some water.

When Tyler sees you cry, his overprotective streak comes out instantly, and right now you didn't want to be protected, because you were so embarrassed that he finally got to you. You were even more embarrassed that you thought that just maybe, he might be a good person under that scowl and hard facade.

"Hey, hey, hey, are you okay?" Tyler rushed up to meet you.

You nodded, trying to stop sniffling. "I'm fine."

Tyler looked behind you to see Scott watching you closely, with a look that almost mimicked longing, and he quickly put two and two together.

"Let me handle this." He insisted.

You shook your head in protest. "No, Tyler, please, he thinks I'm a waste of time anyways, it's not worth it."

"Trust me, he doesn't," Tyler reassured you. "Let me handle this, and if it goes badly, I'll edit all the stream highlights for the next two weeks, okay?"

"Deal." You nodded.

You truly did trust him more than anyone in your life, so you opted to go inside the camper and dry up your tears while he went to speak to Scott. You would let Tyler handle it, but no way were you going to stand there and watch, looking like a puppy who just got kicked.

"Coming to defend your girlfriend's honor?" Scott said sarcastically, trying to mask any emotion he was feeling.

"Dude, seriously." Tyler glared at him. "If you want her attention being a complete and total asshole is not the way you get it."

"Is that what you think? That I want her 'attention'?" He said, framing the last word in air quotes.

"Yeah, I do." Tyler nodded. "I saw the look you gave her as she walked away."

"Okay, so what?" Scott shrugged. "You might be surprised to know I am human and I didn't mean to make her cry."

"Sure." Tyler nodded. "So, what about all the other times I've caught you staring at her, hm?"

Scott stayed silent, stunned speechless.

"Ah, you thought you were better at hiding it, didn't you?" Tyler said with a smug grin. "Every time we end up at the same gas station, restaurant, bar, or motel, your eyes follow her nearly the whole time. And don't even get me started on the holes you burn into my head when I'm talking to her."

"Alright, fine." Scott snapped angrily. "Here to rub it in my face then?"

Tyler sighed in frustration. "No."

"Then what?"

"I'm going to give you a piece of advice."

"Why?" Scott scoffed. "It's no secret that we aren't friends."

"I know her better than anyone else, do you want my help or not?" Tyler asked, his patience nearing its limit.

Scott didn't protest this time.

"Look, no matter what I think about you, you're pretty much exactly her type," Tyler said, much to Scott's surprise. "So if you want her, apologize and tell her how you feel."

"She's not going to feel the same, and she deserves much better than me." Scott retorted. "C'mon Owens, you know what we do. When she comes floating into these broken towns like a heaven-sent angel, I'm collecting data for the devil."

"That doesn't have to be a permanent problem." Tyler pointed out. "Plus, she likes a challenge, and she's definitely brave enough to think she can fix you."

That cracked a smile from both of them, followed by a moment of silence.

"218." Tyler said.

"What?"

"That's the room she's staying in tonight." Tyler said, starting to walk away. "Apologize."

Scott nodded, beginning to formulate a plan on how the hell he was going to get you to forgive him.

You were snug under your blanket in the motel room watching reruns of Modern Family when the knock came.

You sighed and got up, not bothering to check the peephole as you assumed it was just Tyler coming to talk about the day's events.

So when you opened the door to see Scott standing there, you couldn't be more surprised.

"What are you doing here?" You said quietly, nearly breathless at the sight of him.

It wasn't the first time you had seen him outside of that stupid Storm Par white jumpsuit, but it was the first time you had seen him in gray sweatpants and a tight black long-sleeve shirt that clung to his muscles in a way that you could only describe as sinful.

He towered over you, leaning against the frame of the doorway, and you nearly shuddered when you looked up to meet the intense gaze in his eyes.

"I brought you something. As an apology for being an ass earlier today."

"Oh, and what did you bring for all the other times?" You spat back, no longer in the mood to play nice with him.

"I deserve that." He sighed. "Can I come in?"

"Depends." You responded, and he raised an eyebrow. "What did you bring me?"

He handed you a plastic bag, and you opened it to find a Cherry Coke, Sour Patch Kids, and a Honey Bun.

All of your favorites.

"How did you know what I like?" You asked, curious to know if Tyler was behind this.

"You always get some combination of the three at any local gas station." He shrugged.

He remembered because the first time he saw you buy all three he physically rolled his eyes, because, of course, you would buy snacks just as sickeningly sweet as you.

"I didn't know you paid this much attention to me." You said softly.

"Yeah." Scott inhaled a sharp breath. "That's what I wanted to talk to you about. Can I please come in?"

You opened the door, inviting him in with the gesture. The door shut behind you, and there was a brief moment of silence between you two.

"I'm sorry, for being a jerk today and every other time I'm around you." Scott started, visibly nervous as he ran a hand through his hair. "I wish I had a better explanation for why I've been such an ass."

"Yeah, so let's hear it." You said, hands on your hips. "Because I have been nothing but nice to you, even though I don't like who you work for and what they stand for."

"I know." He nodded. "At first, I thought you were being fake or sarcastic because it was unfathomable to me that you would be nice to us when you have absolutely no reason to be."

You nodded, encouraging him to continue.

"But once I learned more about you, and I realized you were being genuinely nice," Scott took a deep breath, building up all his courage. "It knocked me off my feet."

"What do you mean?" You asked, confused at what he was getting at

"I spend most of my time pretending that I don't care about the people that are devastated by all of this, because it's easier that way. But watching you bear your heart and soul to all of these people, just because you can?" Scott scoffed. "It makes it hard to pretend like I don't care about them, or more importantly, about you."

"You care about me?"

"I do." He nodded. "And I was a jerk to you because I thought it would be easier to make you hate me than it would be to admit that I have feelings for you, when you're far too good for me."

His admission stunned you. You can feel your heart thumping out of your chest as you look into his eyes, which look painstakingly vulnerable.

"I completely understand if you don't feel the same way, but I couldn't outrun these feelings anymore, and I wanted to at least let you know that I'm sorry."

The room fell silent as you processed everything he just told you. Scott was panicking inside, waiting for what felt like years for you to say something, anything.

"Do you know why I was always nice to you?" You asked him. "Because I was hoping that somewhere in there you had a good side. I needed to know that you had a heart before I could admit to myself that I felt drawn to you."

"Do you still? Feel drawn to me?"

You nodded. Stepping closer to him so that you were nearly face to face.

"Can I kiss you?"

"Please." You nodded desperately, your words barely above a whisper.

His lips were on yours in a flash, and the pure intensity of the kiss nearly knocked you off your feet. It was heated and rough, but somehow gentle and passionate at the same time. His thumb grazed your cheek as he pulled you closer, and every spot his fingers touched made your skin feel like it was on fire. You couldn't get enough of him.

Once he knew you were comfortable, he took the liberty of exploring you more. His tongue slipped into your mouth gently and his teeth caught your bottom lip, causing a small whimper to come from the back of your throat.

Scott groaned at the sound, letting his mind imagine (not for the first time) all of the sounds he could pull from you.

When the two of you finally pulled away for air, he kept you close, his hands ghosting under your chin around your neck, forcing you to meet his eyes.

"You taste just as sweet as I thought you would," Scott said with a smirk.

"Shut up and kiss me again."

#scott twisters #scott twisters x reader #twisters x reader #twisters #twisters movie #twisters 2024 #scott miller x reader #scott miller #scott miller x you

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withahappyrefrain · 8 months ago

Text

Just a Game

You and Peter like to play a game. It requires no trivia or plastic pieces. Just two people and feigned innocence.

Warnings: CNC (which has been discussed explicitly) unprotected sex, language, minor breeding kink at the very end

You and Peter like to play a game.

It's not a board game, though you two enjoy those from time to time. Not a video game, though Peter has expressed interest.

This game doesn't require any trivia knowledge or plastic pieces. No one has to keep track of points. There isn't a timer.

All this game requires is a surface and your two bodies.

Sometimes it was a couch, when you two were in the middle of watching a movie. Other times it could be your kitchen counter, dinner be damned. Rarely, it would be the back of a car, which was your favorite. Peter’s favorite-against a wall- depended on when and where.

Today the surface was your shared bed.

It started innocently, like it always does. Peter found you curled up in bed, reading. He hadn’t considered playing today. But then he saw you, wearing only one of his hoodies and those pastel yellow panties that drove him wild.

It didn’t help that Peter could smell you. Though the cover of your book didn't look out of the ordinary, your arousal revealed the true nature of your reading choice.

“What’cha reading ladybug?” He asked, curling up to you.

You put on an innocent smile, keeping the book to your chest, “Oh nothing. Just one of those silly romance books.”

Peter raised his eyebrows, “Silly? Let me see.”

Before you could squeak out an objection, Peter snatched the book away, his eyes scanning the page you were on.

“He pushed her dress up to her hips, revealing her wet core. He dove in, lapping up her arousal like a starved man, his mouth quickly attaching itself to her clit.”

Sometimes you got so caught up in playing your role. Peter had said much dirtier things to you and yet there you were, head in your hands and a warm flush coursing through your body.

Peter placed the book on your nightstand before bringing your hands away from your face.

“Oh baby. You’re too sweet to be reading something like that. Why don’t we cuddle instead?”

With his brown puppy dog eyes and sweet smile, he actually sounded genuine. For a moment, you thought he wasn’t inviting you to play. Not when he had his head in your lap, practically purring as your fingernails gently scratched his scalp.

But then his long, nimble fingers made their way under the blanket, grazing against your bare skin, drawing shapes along your thighs as he made his way up your body.

“Peter.” His name was said in a sweet, sing-song voice, “Thought you wanted to cuddle.”

He sat up, pulling you closer, “I do bug.” Peter's other hand was now underneath your shirt, creeping up to your chest..

“Peter,” you could barely breathe, too enthralled with how good his fingers felt kneading your breasts, “This isn’t cuddling.”

“I know,” He sighed, as if he felt some guilt about what he was doing, “But doesn’t it feel good bug?”

You could only nod, breath hitching up when one of his large hands began to toy with the elastic waistband of your panties.

The foreplay was fun, but it wasn't the main focus of the game.

That didn't come until you were underneath him, completely bare and withering as his hard cock slid between your soaked folds. It was a battle, fighting the urge to jerk your hips up, potentially catching him.

“Peter, w-we shouldn't,” your voice was shaky as you tried to come across as worried rather than in a pleasure laced haze.

“I know. We shouldn’t.” He's panting. Peter's lips ghosted over your bare skin, leaving a trail of open mouthed kisses.

In this game, your birth control and five year relationship didn't exist.

No. In this game you were wide-eyed and innocent. In this game, both your heads were clouded with lust, longing threatening to overtake common sense.

“Maybe,” His voice is soft, addictive. “Maybe I-we-just the tip?”

You throw your head back when the head of his cock makes contact with your clit. Desire racked through your body, fingers creating crescent shaped marks along his back as you searched for something, anything to ground you amidst the pleasure haze that was clouding your judgment.

Part of you wanted to break character so he would fuck you sooner.

But where was the fun in that?

“But we-fuck- we don’t have a condom?” A box of condoms was currently stashed away in your nightstand. You had been on birth control for years. There was no concern.

Again, not in this game.

With your wide, doe-like eyes, sweet voice, and withering body, Peter was truly surprised he hadn’t come already.

But where was the fun in that? That didn’t allow him to play, to take off the friendly neighborhood hero mask and act out his deepest desires.

His head dropped down to your chest, his thin pink lips quickly latching on to one of your breasts. Your back arched in pleasure, hands grabbing Peter’s soft chestnut locks upon feeling the scrape of his teeth. His hips continue to thrust forward, reminding you of what was within reach.

“I know, forgot to bring some. It would just-just be the tip,” He sounds like he just ran a marathon. You’re so warm and wet. Everytime the plush head of his cock nudges against your clit, he can feel your walls clenching, trying to catch him, enticing him in.

“Peter,” the way you moan his name is sweeter than any song he’s heard, “We-no. Peter, don’t.”

He’s already grabbed the backs of your thighs, hitching them up to your chest. Now he has the picture view of his cock sliding through your slicked folds. You have the prettiest cunt Peter’s ever seen and God, does he want to use it.

Your hips twitch as he nudges his cock towards your all too welcoming entrance, entranced by how your walls eagerly suck him in. Eyes roll to the back of your head upon feeling the head of his cock begin to stretch you, nearly forgetting your role in all this.

“W-wait!” You try to prop yourself up, try to jerk your hips away.

But Peter is stronger. It drives you crazy, his strength. His hands grasp your shoulders, pushing you back down onto the mattress.

“It’s okay bug. Just the tip, remember?” The ambered irises are blown out with lust. Combined with the downright wicked smirk adorning his handsome face, he looks more devilish than heroic.

It thrills you. No one else sees this side of him, only you. Only you does he feel comfortable enough to indulge in these desires.

For a few moments, it's only the tip, sliding in and out of your tight walls.

Sometimes he’ll dive right in, other times he'll drag it out, as if Peter is truly at war with his morals when it comes to your sweet cunt.

“Just….just the tip,” he whispers, as though he’s trying to convince himself, trying to convince you.

The outcome is clear, but you still nod your head. “Just the tip,” you agree.

“So…fucking tight,” He watches where you two connect in awe, lips parted, “So warm. God…feel fuckin’ incredible.”

The praise leaves goosebumps on your skin, almost distracting enough to not notice that Peter has been slowly pushing his cock in more and more with each passing moment. Your body betrays you, hips jerking upwards in a desperate, near pathetic attempt to get more of his cock.

Sometimes the game is hard to keep up with. There have been times where you both forfeit, craving each other far too much to continue.

If Peter noticed you breaking character, he didn’t acknowledge it. He’s too mesmerized by the way your cunt eagerly welcomes him.

“Fuck, baby, m’sorry, it’s-you feel s’good.” His speech is slurred, drunk off your body. Before you can react, he thrusts forward, filling you to the brim.

Finally.

“Pete-no! We can’t!” You plead, despite your body enthusiastically welcoming the intrusion, “You said-ah! You said the-the tip!”

His cock twitches at your words, at the feigned concern in your voice. His lips ghost over your face, hips increasing the speed of their thrusts.

“I know, I know,” it’s almost convincing, that he truly feels bad for this, for giving in to lust. As if neither of you wanted it.

He picks up his pace, shushing your fake protests. His cock feels incredible, so full. No matter how much prep beforehand, the sheer size of Peter is still an adjustment.

“You'll- you’ll pull out, right?” You gasp, eyes meeting his.

“‘Course bug,” He chuckles.

He won't. But it's the false promises that keep you going.

“As-ah- as long as you pull out, it's okay, right?” You're committed to the role of the naive girlfriend, Peter will give you that. The concern in your eyes is incredibly convincing.

Sometimes he's so caught up in the euphoria of you that he forgets to play along. All he has to do is look you in the eyes to remember his role.

“Yeah, it's okay. God, feels incredible. Your pussy.” He hitched your legs further up until they were nearly resting on his shoulders. The change in angle allowed him to thrust deeper, reaching the spot that made you see stars.

Bliss quickly overcame you, causing you to focus less on the game and more on the coil that was currently winding up in the pit of your stomach, threatening to snap at any moment.

“God, you're clenching me. Can barely pull out.” His pressed his lips against yours, capturing them in a messy kiss.

You shake your head, “Y-you should. Peter!”

But Peter continues, relishing in how tight you're gripping him. It's addictive.

“Everytime I try to pull out, your little cunt sucks me back in. Think she wants me to stay.” His words elicit a downright desperate whimper from you.

“How’s this? I'll stay ‘till ya cum.” His composure was incredible, his voice so soft you almost believed him.

Almost.

Weakly, you nodded as Peter’s perfidious promise promptly pershing into the periphery of your mind. Who could express you to focus, when his nimble fingers were toying with your clit?

Your pleas to stop fade away, occasionally a feeble no falling from your lips. His massive hands were all over you, kneading at your soft skin, sure to leave bruises.

It's one of the best things to Peter, waking up and admiring the work he did on your body from the night before.

But for now, he could enjoy another favorite-you. It was cute, nearly adorable how your legs shook, your hips jerking upwards, desperate to get more despite already being full of him. The pathetic whimpers that fell from your lips, unable to form anything coherent. With each thrust, your breasts bounced against your chest.

It was picturesque. Peter wished he could grab his camera to immortalize this moment, but that would break the illusion.

So instead, his fingers skim your soft skin, tracing over your plush curves, downward until he reaches his desired location.

After all, he promised he'd pull out once you cum. So why not help?

His fingers on your clit felt like lightning, sending a crack of electricity up your spine. It's euphoric, you can't even bother to play along, hands gripping the strands of his hair tightly as the bedroom is quickly filled with your moans.

When you finally get pushed over the pleasurable edge, it’s loud. There are no whines or pleads for Peter to pull out. Only raucous moans that fill the bedroom, combining with the erotic sound of his skin slapping against yours.

“Shit, feel s’good. S’fuckin tight,” He pants, “Babe-baby. You feel s’good. Don’t know if I can pull out.”

His words jolt you out of the lavender haze, reminding you of the part you were still playing.

“N-No. You can’t!”

Peter nods his head, though he’s not agree with you, “M’sorry,feel s’good.”

You try to sit up, to put up a fight. But just as you do, you’re pushed back down, your hands above your head, enclasped with Peter’s. His body covers you like a warm weighted blanket, the kind where it’s so soft and deceptively confining, you can’t get up even if you wanted to. The spicy scent of cinnamon that always lingers on his body floods your nostrils, his mouth swallowing your pleas to stop as his hips erratically slam into yours.

It was blissful. You were enraptured by Peter, by his body, roleplay be damned. Your legs wrapped themselves around his lithe waist, pulling him closer.

Peter reaching his own high triggers yours again, walls clamping tightly down on his cock as he floods you with his warm.

“Baby, m’s’sorry, feels too good,” it's then you register he's still rutting his hips against yours.

Well this is a new move. Usually the game ended at this point.

The chance to prolong, to try something new was thrilling.

So you shook your head. “Peter!” Your moan contained more desire than it did distress, “N-no, you need-oh- pull out!”

But Peter just grunts. It's so animalistic, your thighs clench at the sound. His refractory period was much shorter than anyone else you had been with, no doubt thanks to a radioactive spider bite.

Now sensitivity is surging through your body, pain and pleasure mixing together. He's hitting the spot that makes you see stars, the spot you didn't think existed until you met Peter.

It's getting harder to stay in character. But as long as Peter is trying, so will you.

“Y-you promised you'd pull out!”

“I know,” he groans in your ear, “Shouldn't have such a fucking tight cunt then. Don't know how ya expect me to pull out.”

His teeth sink down into your throat, earning a sharp gasp.

“God, your cunt,” the scruff of his beard scratches against your skin, “Think you want me to cum in ya again.”

You shook your head, “No! Please!” Fingers claw at his strong back to no avail. He continues with his harsh thrusts, paying no attention to how your mixed arousal was leaking onto the sheets.

“No- stop!” But that wasn't your safe word.

He could tell you were already close, your moans increasing in pitch, how your walls were clinging to his cock.

You just needed a little help getting there.

“Gonna cum in ya again. It might just take this time. Is that what you want? For me to fuck a baby in ya?”

The illusion of your feigned innocence shatters, his words igniting a flame in you that can't be fanned out.

You're now wailing, nodding enthusiastically at Peter's words. Fingers which were once clawing at him now grip his shoulders. Instead of jerking away, your hips move upwards.

“Y-yes! Want it to take s’bad! Please fill me up!”

Your voice was nearly unrecognizable; whiny and desperate. It only spurs him on, his cock thrusting into you at a near bruising pace.

Peter's next high is with your’s, hips stuttering as he fills you once more. He knows he could go again, but everyone needs a break, an intermission before the next act.

The next few moments, you two are speechless. The only audible sounds are that of heavy breathing and the overhead ceiling fan.

“Well, that was fun,” you chuckled, running your fingers absentmindedly through his hair.

Peter finally made eye contact with you. His eyes are dark, almost black with lust. The grin on his face is downright wolfish.

“Oh sweetheart, I'm far from done with you.”

You were in for a long night.

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