#“Do you want to stay with me?” OH MY GOD JUST KISS ALREADY | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

postracehair · 3 days ago

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say again

george russell x reader | 3.9k

three times george curses. or, a beginning, a middle, and a future.

cw: george cursing. a few scrapes and a little bit of blood, some kissing, and a love confession to boot.

a/n: this kind of ran away from me, especially in the middle but every time george russell says fuck an angel gets its wings. written ages ago but posting in honor of Las Vegas.

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YOU'VE GOT TO BE FUCKING KIDDING ME

The door buzzes and you let yourself into the building.

You've only been here a few times, but a match day spent with your coworker and some of her friends is better than sitting on your couch alone, right? Wine and cookies in hand, you trudge up two flights of stairs to her flat. By the time you reach the landing, you can already hear the chatter and the TV.

No one seems to hear your knock so you push the door open and gingerly step in. The kitchen is on the other side of the flat, and you assume everyone is somewhere between there and the television.

But when you pass the living room where the TV actually is, there's just one guy on the couch. Leaning forward, elbows on his knees watching a penalty get called.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me," he says to no one.

You snicker. He whirls around. "Hello," you say.

"Sorry," he says, standing immedietly. Wow, he's tall. "Sorry, hello."

Oh, and he's familiar. You know him, kind of. He's -- god, he races cars, right? Shit, what is his name? Your coworker has social connections you barely understand so it's not really a surprise to find someone who is probably famous in her flat.

"It is just you, then?" you ask. He laughs and runs a hand through his hair. Dressed in jeans and a team jumper, his casual outfit is at odds with the severe cut of his jaw, his cheekbones. He just looks expensive.

"No," he says. "No, everyone is putting plates together. I'm afraid I might be the one most interested in watching the match."

"Not going well?" you say lightly.

He rounds the sofa, hand out. "Could be better," he says. "I'm George."

You readjust the items in your hands to shake his and tell him your name. He repeats it, and you smile.

"Let me go put these down," you say, "and then, um. Do you want some company, George?"

Honestly, you're not sure where that came from. But, though you came here to escape the smothering loneliness of your own flat, something about him makes you want to stay here rather than go into the kitchen with everyone else.

"'Course I do," he says. "I promise to tighten up my language. Won't do for that to be my first impression."

You wave him away though your cheeks feel a little hot and head for the kitchen.

Your coworker brightens at seeing you and takes your hostess gifts with ease.

"The match is on in the other room," she tells you, "but most of us are drinking in here."

"I saw," you say. "I met George."

She hears something in your tone that turns her expression something between amused and calculating. "You did, did you?"

You just nod, loading up a plate with the various nibbles. "How do you know him, anyway?"

She shrugs. "Oh, you know." No, you don't, but she plows on. "What did you think?"

"Taller than he seems on TV," you mutter. "But very polite. He shook my hand."

That gets her to laugh. "Oh, of course he did. Well, don't stand around in here with us. Go chat up a Formula 1 driver!"

George is back on the couch when you return, arm stretched over the back of it, brows furrowed.

"Has anything exciting happened?" you ask him, sitting down with a perfectly responsible distance between you.

He grimaces. "Nothing good. Wolverhampton, bless 'em, are quite bad."

That might explain why no one is watching this match with him, but you keep that to yourself.

"I see," you say, solemnly. "But loyalty is loyalty, I suppose, if they're your club."

"Exactly," George says. "It's suffering but it has to be done." Someone on the screen triggers a free kick and George leans in until it's over. He starts talking about one of the players being traded, or his contract being renegotiated, or something. You nibble on your plate and just watch. He's animated, this man. Fringe falling over his forehead the more he gestures, blue eyes wide and serious. It's all very endearing.

"Sorry," he says suddenly. "I'm being so rude. You don't want to hear about all of this, do you?"

You smile at him. "I don't mind. I came over for some company more than anything else."

He sinks back into the couch a little, hand running through his hair again. "Well, lucky for me that you did," he says.

Your face feels hot and you don't want to mistake this for flirting if it's not. He is a world-famous athlete, after all, but here you are on the couch next to him. "Lucky for you, indeed."

He laughs, delighted.

OH, SHIT!

This is not how you saw your life going, but maybe that's just the nature of it. Big moments happen just the same as small ones and we have to handle them regardless. The trajectory of your life shifted just a little bit when you sat down on someone else's couch to watch a football match with a stranger.

Because that stranger -- George -- is now much more than that. He asked for your number that day before he had to leave earlier than everyone else, and has been speaking to you ever since. Texts, phone calls, FaceTimes. And, when he's not driving hundreds of miles an hour halfway across the world, he likes to spend time with you.

They're dates, you know they are. But things are still casual, immensely so. Coffee, dinner, long walks through the park. It's probably past due that you ask him what he'd like out of this, but your friends tell you to just have fun for the time being. You've learned a lot about him in the last month or so, both from him directly and by doing your research.

You'd watched a few Grand Prix before meeting him but not with any kind of rapt attention. Now, obviously, you watch with purpose. See him zip around the track, read his radio messages, hope desperately that he'll be alright. He's a big mix of things, George Russell. Witty but determined, thorough but reactionary, polite but intense. You want to keep getting to know him on a personal level and measure that up to how he appears to the world.

Today, you're on one of those long walks. George is recounting the last race at your request. It's always more interesting to hear him talk about what happened than watching it, though you're really growing to love that part, too.

It's a bit chilly and he's got a scarf on in addition to a nondescript hat pulled down low over his eyes. You're used to this by now, though you wish you could see his face more fully.

"And then -- well, I'm sure you saw this bit -- he turned right into me like I wasn't even there!"

"But you avoided it," you remind him. "I saw that, too." A cold wind blows down the path and you shiver a bit.

"You alright?" he asks. "Nippy, huh?" He stops walking and turns to you, his huge hands coming to rest on your shoulders before he rubs them up and down your arms.

"A bit," you agree, a little breathless. God, you really need to talk to him about what this is. You're thinking about him all the time, which is a bit of a nuisance, as you're not sure he's feeling the same. But, a small voice in your head tells you, you can't be too far off in thinking that it might be based on the way he's looking at you right now.

Even under the cap, you can see the soft set of his brow, the way his eyes are shining. The gentle quirk up of his mouth. What would it be like to kiss him? Would he let you?

George stops his warming efforts, catching your hands in his. "Better?"

All you can do is nod. He grins, looking a bit too pleased, and starts walking again, you in tow. This is something else you've learned about him -- he really can be a cheeky bastard. He must have more than some idea as to how he affects you and enjoys it. It's somewhere between a game and a challenge.

You're thinking about ways you can get him back, ways you can flirt mercilessly. His hand is in yours and he's half a step ahead of you when suddenly your fingers are ripped from his and you find yourself on your hands and knees with a gasp.

George is immediately there with you.

"Oh, shit," he says. "Are you alright?"

"I--" You're a bit too stunned to say anything. George rarely curses, which is funny given how you met, but it unsettles you a little bit as much as it warms you. "I think I tripped?"

"Let me see your hands," he says, gently tugging at your wrists with his long fingers. He sucks on his teeth when he sees your palms. "Not too bad, but a little scratched."

You rearrange yourself so you're flat on your bum, legs in front of you. Your hands might be alright but your knees are another story. The fabric of your jeans isn't ripped but you can see the bloodstains already.

"Oh," you say. You look up at George, feeling a bit pathetic. "This is embarrassing."

He scoffs. "No, it's not," he says. "I do think we should get you cleaned up, though."

"We can go to my place," you suggest. The sting sets in a little more, but mingles with your chagrin and you just set your jaw. "Help me up?"

"Brave girl," George says. He presses his lips to the base of your wrist and stands, tugging you up as he goes. "Have you got first aid things at your flat?"

You nod, running through the contents of your bathroom in your mind. It occurs to you that George has not been to your place before, and you did not mentally prepare yourself to bring him there today.

George gently says your name. "Let's get a cab, shall we?"

It takes no time at all to flag one down. George removes his hat in what you can clearly see as an effort to get the cabbie to hurry along a bit, but it seems to work. He takes one look at you, one more at George, and steps on it.

"Let me get your belt," George mutters, making quick work of the buckle.

"I don't think I've ever worn a seatbelt in a cab in my life, George," you reply. He just pats your thigh.

"Think we've had enough injuries for one day, don't you?"

George and the cabbie chat about the race season, about how hot it really is in Singapore, about one of George's recent podiums. He keeps you tucked into his side the whole time -- he's ignored his own seatbelt, you notice -- hand on your thigh. You keep your palms turned up on your knees and wonder how on earth you got here.

The city flies by and you lean your head on his shoulder. You can feel something shifting between you, something clicking into place that wasn't entirely settled before. It's scary, it's exciting, it's big. It's something you're going to have to talk about.

George pays the driver in some large bills and helps you out of the cab and up the steps of your building.

"Where are your keys?" he asks.

"Front right pocket of my jeans."

"Pardon my reach," he jokes, and lightly rests on palm on your hip and slides the other into your pocket to find them. He tugs the keyring out and winks at you before unlocking the door. Up the stairs, into the flat. Shoes toed off, coats on the hook after George helps you out of yours.

"I'm not an invalid, you know," you tell him. He clicks his tongue.

"We don't want blood on this nice coat of yours, do we?"

You roll your eyes. George glances around your flat and smiles. "This is very you."

Dishes on the counter, the pillows a mess on the couch, your books and trinkets on every flat surface -- you suppose he's right.

"Thank you?" you say. He taps your chin with his knuckle.

"It feels like a home, I mean." Your cheeks feel warm and your heart sighs. God, the things he says.

"Oh," you breathe. "That's kind."

"And does this home have a first aid kit?" The reminder brings the dull sting of your scraped skin back to the forefront of your mind.

"Bathroom cabinet," you tell him. George nods.

"I'll get that. Why don't you change into something loose so I can get to your knees?"

In your room, you tug carefully tug on some sweatpants, mindful of your palms, and let yourself marvel at how today has gone. You expected to have George here someday, but certainly not like this. Will he want to see your bedroom? You shove some dirty laundry into the hamper and thank past you for making the bed this morning.

"I think you should sit on the counter," George calls. "Whenever you're ready."

You pad out to meet him in socked feet. It's quite the sight, him in your kitchen. He's bent over your sink, washing his hands. His sweater has been tossed over a chair and you can see the lines of his back under his t-shirt.

"Do you need help getting up?" he asks. You nod. Together, you get yourself on the counter, making you about eye level.

"Hello," you say. His hat is gone, too, so his fringe falls across his forehead in slightly curled strands. When you've cleaned yourself up, maybe you'll work up the courage to run your hand through them.

"Hello yourself. Right hand, please." You hold out your palm and George gets to work. He cleans it, getting all the bits from your skin, and then uses an alcohol wipe.

"Do you have a special interest in first aid, or something?" you ask to distract yourself from the sting. His thumb strokes your pulse point as he works.

"I guess you get beat up a bit in karting when you're young," he says. He wraps one palm in gauze and moves onto the other. "I suppose i just like knowing how to take care of people."

"God," you groan. "Is there anything wrong with you?"

He looks at you then, hair falling into his blue, blue eyes. "Oh," he smirks. "Plenty, darling." He finishes up on your other palm and holds it in his for a moment longer than you expect. Then he slowly brings your hand to his mouth and kisses the bandage.

You might gasp, You're not entirely sure, eyes glued to his lips like nothing else exists. Then he kisses the other palm. Your gaze flicks up and George is looking right at you.

"Knees," he says, voice a little hoarse. "Alright?"

"Alright," you breathe. You stick one leg out just to see what he'll do. You're learning that he rises to the occasion, and that's exactly what happens. He cups your ankle, places your foot on his thigh, and slides your sweatpants up above your joint.

"That's gnarly," he says, breaking the tension. You laugh and tap his leg with your other foot. "You ready?"

"I'm ready."

He makes quick work on it. One hand on your calf, the other gently cleaning and bandaging. The silence is comfortable, familiar, though you've not been in this situation before. It's not until George is almost done with your other knee that he speaks.

"You know," He says, lightly. "If you wanted me to touch you, all you had to do was ask. The tripping wasn't entirely necessary."

"George!" you gasp. He squeezes your calf.

"I'm just saying, darling."

He ties off the gauze and rolls down your pant leg. You widen your knees and he steps between them immediately, hands resting gently on your thighs. It's absolutely electric -- going from shy, appropriate touches to being in your flat together, his hands all over you. How are you going to go back?

Maybe you can't.

George's eyes rake over your face. You inhale his exhales, feeling them on your lips. His pupils dilate.

"What is this, George?" you whisper. His fingers press into your thighs a little harder.

"Well," he says, tongue darting out to wet his lips. "What would you like it to be?"

"I don't know," you say, honestly. He is not dissuaded, does not back away. He must know that this is hard for you -- his life is so different from yours. As it is, you avoid social media so you don't see pictures of you splashed across gossip accounts. It's impossible to totally stay away from it but you try, because you really like being with him.

"Shall I tell you what it is for me?" George says.

You nod.

He cups your face in his hands, thumbs stroking the delicate skin under your eyes.

"Every second I am not with you I am thinking about when I'll see you next," he says. "I store up things to tell you and take photos to show you and I have a bag full of things I've bought you but been too afraid to give you. Beautiful things, things that remind me of you."

"George--"

"I worry about fucking up your life," he continues, and you fall silent. "This is a lot. I am a lot. My life is not simple, and you've already seen that. But I want you in it. I want you in it however you want to be there, though I have my suggestions. I promise that if you let me, I'll treat you so well, because you deserve everything, and --"

Your heart is going to explode if he goes on any longer, so you close the gap between you and kiss him. Finally.

It's just the press of your lips against his for a few seconds, your eyes fluttering shut, before George catches up to what's happening and angles your faces a little bit to make it deeper. Your bandaged hands rest on his elbows and you swallow a sound from deep in his throat, something that lights a fire in your belly.

"Blimey," George says, leaning your foreheads together.

"What, no curse for me?"

His eyes sparkle and he wrinkles his nose at you. "Fuck," he says. "I've been thinking about that for weeks."

You press your lips to the corner of his mouth. "That's more like it."

BLOODY HELL

What the fuck was that? Is he serious? Keep focused, George. This is fucking ridiculous. Head down.

It's a bad day. Not as bad as it could be -- George does not end up in the wall. But he ends up way further down the pack than he should, barely scraping together a few points. It's the car and everyone knows it. The bouncing, the drag, the understeer. A showing far too poor for this late in the season.

And George is pissed. It's not often that you see him this way -- he's fairly levelheaded, even when things get tough. Something about him causes conflict to lull, things to fall into place, but even that can't fix the silver arrow.

You slip out of the garage during the last lap to sit in his driver's room and wait.

This isn't your first race. Far from it, by now. Things got official halfway through the season after that day in your flat, and you've been coming to as many as you can. It's a rush, really, to see him work. Scarier than anything, but when it's good? It's amazing. You love the energy of the garage and everyone seems to have taken to you, too.

So much so that they know to send George right to his room before the media pen so you can calm him down.

You sit on the bench and wait.

He comes in, closing the door firmly but never slamming it, and sighs. All the tension melts from his body and he looks defeated. Sweaty, annoyed, and defeated.

"Hello," you say, lightly.

He smiles wryly. "Shit day, huh?"

You love how George looks after a race. Hair a mess from his helmet, skin beaded with sweat. He unzips his race suit and lets it hang at his hips and you can see the outline of his muscles through his fireproofs. It's genuinely swoonworthy, even with his visibly bad mood.

"Are you alright?" you ask. He shrugs, rolls his shoulders, and winces.

"Bloody hell," he curses. "My back is killing me."

"What can I do?"

"Nothing," he says automatically. "You're perfect just as you are."

It's a reflex he has -- not to ask for things. You're still working it out, poking and prodding to find the cracks. Maybe, with time, he'll loosen this grip he has on his desire to make your life as comfortable and wonderful as possible without thinking of himself. There are moments when it's best to just let him fuss, but right now you think you can push back a little.

"George," you sigh. "Come on."

He hides his face behind a sweat towel for a breath, then tosses it aside. "Alright," he says. "Just sit with me for a bit."

You scoot over on the bench and he flops next to you, head back against the wall and eyes closed. His hand fumbles around for yours, pinching your thigh when he overshoots, which makes you laugh. He cracks a smile and opens one eye just enough to see your grin before settling back into his rest.

He breathes deeply, fingers entwined with yours. The line of his jaw is pronounced in the awful lighting of the room and the shadows under his eyes look worse than usual. A few more races and then he can rest. What will you do in the off season? Maybe a vacation. Hopefully a vacation. You imagine George in swim trunks on a beach somewhere, dozing in the sand. Rubbing sun tan lotion on his back and his shoulders and his nose, reading books for hours until he convinces you to run into the water. Lazy days on a balcony or in a bed with all the windows open, never being far from each other --

Someone knocks on the door.

"Christ," George mutters. "Let's ignore it."

"You need to go to the pen, darling," you whisper back. He squeezes your hand and presses your legs together.

"Just a few more minutes," he says. "Eventually they'll just come in."

"If you say so."

You press a kiss to his tacky cheek and lean your head on his shoulder, eyes fluttering shut.

George takes a deep breath. "I love you," he says.

The words stretch into the silence that comes after, the moments it takes for you to process it. They fill the small room, sneak their way into your bloodstream, your lungs, all the way to your heart.

Part of you is waiting for the follow-up. I know it's too early, I know it's a lot, You don't have you say it back. But George doesn't deal in excuses. He feels it, so he says it.

You lift your head to look at him and find him already staring at you. Not expectant, just looking to look.

"I love you, George," you say.

He grins bigger than you've ever seen, bigger than after your first kiss, than the days when he's on the podium.

Someone knocks on the door again.

"Oh, piss off," he mutters and leans in to kiss you.

#george russell x reader #george russell #george russell fanfic #gr63 x reader #f1 fanfic #gr63 #my writing #fic: say again

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niceonejames7 · 1 day ago

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i love yous and what not

you tell james you love him for the first time

words: 940

genre: fluff

cw: kind of reserved!reader (?), james is an annoying sweetheart

a/n: didn't realise this is another confession blurb. ive been getting too many negative posts (fanwars and all) in my tl so i needed get my head clear. i need to start blocking people don't i.

.....

You were never a vocal person. To tell someone something vulnerable made you recoil into yourself. You liked seeing it through actions. James knew that. But James had always been an expressive person. He liked showing his love, and proclaiming it, and sharing it. Basically, any form of affection.

Your reluctance had never stopped him.

He had said ‘I love you’ a month into dating, you hadn't minded it. You already knew he did, and you felt the same. You had only kissed him later, but next morning, it was as if he could predict your words,

“You really don't have to say it. I know you have a hard time with these things. I know how you feel, it's hard not to know. I feel all fuzzy inside when you smile at me" He had grinned down at you as you hid, your face half under the blanket but he knew you were smiling. He could see it in your eyes, and who wouldn't know, he did feel all fuzzy inside.

So you hadn't said it. At least not as a confession.

James is terrible company. Terrible because he rubs off on you. You were never someone to wake early in the morning, you still aren't. But your body seems to wake itself to bid him goodbye in the morning, “I'm only going to the gym" He'd say as he kisses your forehead, your body going back to sleep again.

And you had peppered in ‘love you's in your texts, when bid him goodbye, in your notes, magnetic letters spelling out ‘LY’ under his growing collection of pictures etc. etc.

Today's different. He's still annoying with what feels like a weekly routine to cuddle you with cheesy romantic sentences, that you know he means -he knows they make you squeezy- but he says them anyway.

“This isn't a joke my love, I really would let you stab me,” His arms squeezing your waist as you squirm in his lap, "I'd just be glad you'd be the one to do it."

You try to be annoyed, but laugh as you make more futile attempts to escape.

“I feel as if you were made for me. You know that one line," His eyes light up in excitement, your movements still as he concentrates, “I don't believe in God, but I truly believe God made you for me. It's from a book, I think."

“Oh my god, James," You chuckle, your hands pushing on his bicep, but you really only feel them flex under your fingers.

“What do you want for lunch?" He asks, pressing one last kiss on your lips as he lifts you off of him and goes to get his phone.

“He really needs to stop doing that to me”, you mumble to yourself.

The next morning, you had woken up as you usually did on the time James left the house. But today he was staying in, you knew this after he proclaimed he's gonna be too tired after last night's activities. You had laughed him off, but you guess he was telling the truth.

You laugh, because he is fast asleep and his lips a little puckered, nose cold to touch. You adjusted his blanket before pressing a kiss to his nose. Then another -then another, deciding those would be the only way you'd warm up the cold.

James was half- awake, he knew you were there, but he didn't dare wake up, his sleepy mind scared that it might be a dream and you'd stop.

Your fingers traced over his eyes, his forehead, his chin, mindless activities to spend time, to rid your mind of the pestering feeling.

It had been present since yesterday, or last week, maybe a month, maybe more. You wanted to say it, but every moment felt too casual, or too formal, or maybe too inappropriate, or too serious. You didn't know what to do.

You didn't know how he'd react, if he'd resort to his teasing proclamations, or ignore it, or say it back. It was silly to worry about this, there's nothing to fear, it's James.

You didn't know what made you say it, maybe because he was sleeping, or well- pretending to sleep, or it was the quiet, maybe something else. There was nothing all too romantic about this moment, but you had said it anyway,

“I love you." A quiet whisper, not hesitant or unsure, just nervous. Your pinky finger runs along his nose, it's quite warm now, his whole face is, “I hope you already know that."

He half opens his eyes, just to see a glimpse of your face, it's zeroed in on a curl of his, falling to the side of his face.

James had known you liked him before you knew. Your love isn't something non- detectable. It was out there, for everyone to see. Unintentionally or not. He had no doubts. He has a million questions if you're saying it because you feel obligated, or pressured or anything else, but he's afraid he might ruin the moment. So for now, He only pulls you impossibly close, his whole body thrumming with excitement, he'd freak out about this later on. Right now he only wants you.

His arms wrap around you, and buries his face into your neck, his warm breath on yours, “I love you, too. So,”- a kiss, “So,”-another one, "much."

He nuzzles into you, and let him, of course you do, fingers brushing out his curls, he continues, “But I think you already knew that."

#james potter x reader #james potter fluff #james potter x you #james potter x y/n #james potter imagine #james potter drabble #james potter fanfiction #james potter #marauders #the marauders #hp marauders

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senditcolton · 24 hours ago

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A DAY LATE BUT OH MY GOD!! WHY ARE Y'ALL NOT REBLOGGING THIS MASTERPIECE?? (that's on me as well) DON'T TELL ME Y'ALL FORGOT ABOUT THE JOY THAT IS TYSON JOST!! I WILL BE SCREAMING ABOUT IT FOR THE NEXT YEAR PROBABLY!!

(speaking of screaming here it is, in-depth)

Let’s goooooo!!! I was excited when I heard Little Women inspired and now that it’s from YOU C!!! AAAAAAHHHHHH!!!!

(also love the name Delaney – just one of my favorites)

Of course Tyson is the only person to think her ex is a douche

“the swell in her heart at the image of Tyson Jost holding her hand” *John Mulaney voice* NOW WE DON’T HAVE TIME TO UNPACK ALL OF THAT.

“such a kind gesture of friendship” this was the first of many times I was banging my head against my pillows. DELANY PLS

Yes you will have to kiss each other and it will be MAGICAL

The fact that they’ve both equated their feelings to being kids with crushes is so sweet

Tyson being soooo nervous to meet her dad!

“he found himself hoping that he was at the top of the list” I HOPE SO TOO TYSON

Tyson and Delaney are so cute already and their not even ~really~ together yet!

The way Delany’s family remind Tyson of his and how seamlessly they fit together 🩵🤍🩵🤍🩵🤍

“Though Delaney was sure he was referring to the glowing horizon in front of them, she found herself wishing that wasn’t all that he meant” IT’S NOT! (head in pillows x2)

Babe, you’re comparing him to your sisters significant others. That should be a siiiiigggggnnnn

“She was impressed at how well he was selling their fake relationship” (head in pillows x3)

“he didn’t fancy an awkward conversation over coffee” uh-huh sure Tyson, that’s definitely the only reason you’re staying in bed. Has nothing to do with your dream girl nestled against you.

Tyson being so good with all the kids is peak Josty in my mind

The way he is so happy at seeing her so relaxed MY HEART!

THIS EXCHANGE WITH OLIVIA HAD ME MELTING!!! The way she can see right through both Tyson and Delaney?? One of the first to be like ‘you two love each other, duh’. MY HEART!!!

“he was only there out of pity, not out of any sort of inkling of real feelings for her” (head in pillows x4)

TYSON’S DUMB LITTLE SMILE WHEN HE LOOKS AT HER!

Well, of course you’ve never noticed Delaney, that’s like rom-com 101

“she made a mental note to compliment Tyson on his acting abilities” (head in pillows x5)

“Tyson saw her in a way that Mark never had – maybe in a way that even her family never had” THAT MEANS SOMETHING!!!

THIS ENTIRE DATE!! OH MY GOD THEY ARE SO IN LOVE WITH EACH OTHER IT IS SO PERFECT!

AND THEN TYSON HAD TO OPEN HIS MOUTH AND (accidentally) RUIN IT

“she really needed to ask him where he’d learn to be such a good actor” (head in pillows x6)

NOOO HE LOVES YOU!!! IT IS REAL!! GOD DAMMIT!!!

“Which is all I’ve wanted since we met”!?!??!?!?!

GOD SHE IS SUCH AN IDIOT! (AFFECTIONATE)

“You know, your mother and I looked at each other like that… like there was no one else around” DEAN I COULD KISS YOU ON THE MOUTH FOR THIS COMMENT THANK YOU

She was his Cape Cod!?!?!?!??!

“You said not to say it unless I meant it. I mean it” MELTED. PUDDLE. RIGHT NOW.

“I really, really would like to kiss you first” WHO WOULD SAY NO TO THAT?!

THIS FIC WAS MAGICAL!! I could so clearly feel the Little Women energy in every sentence. Delaney and her family, how close they all were, like AH MY HEART!! You nailed every single trope you chose i am over the moon so yeah overall =

Playing Pretend - Tyson Jost

Pairing: Tyson Jost x OC (f)

Summary: When Delaney Taylor needs a date to her family reunion, Tyson Jost volunteers his services. As they navigate their fake relationship, the line between what’s real and what isn’t begins to blur.

Word Count: 9.8k

Author's Note: Happy birthday, @senditcolton! Surprise, I was your Little Women anon 🤓🥳 I had a blast creating this and infusing the March family into the characters - I hope you enjoy! S/O to @wyattjohnston for helping to beta and to @smileysvech & @jostystyles for the extra details because I'm insane. 🖤 The birthday bingo prompts I selected were: Fake dating / Drunk confession / Argument Scene / She's oblivious / Free Space (Inspired by... Little Women)

Warnings: Angst, language, alcohol use. NHL Masterlist

A buzz on the coffee table alerted Delaney Taylor’s attention away from the television. Beside her, the gentle hum of a Theragun sounded over the low volume of an Avalanche game. She was at Tyson’s house, having accepted his invite to hang out and get takeout on his night off. They’d met through friends, and after finding a mutual interest in The Lagoons and bad reality TV, their friendship naturally veered off to form a branch and blossom on its own.

The phone buzzed again, prompting Delaney to lean forward and grab it upon seeing a text from her sister.

“Fuck,” she said, “Alyssa just texted asking for a final count for my family get together in July.”

“And that’s a bad thing… why? You love your family,” Tyson said, confused. He set down his Theragun on the ottoman, reaching for his water bottle. A car dealership commercial flashed on the screen.

Across from him on the couch, Delaney sighed. “I know. It’s just… I’m kind of the disappointment of the family.”

“Why do you think that?”

“I’m poor, in a mass amount of debt, and working at a Kohl’s instead of at the Met like I was supposed to by this time,” she said, counting each sin on her fingers. Lifting a fourth, she added, “Oh yeah, and I’m single.”

Tyson rolled his eyes. “Oh, come on. They don’t care about that.”

“Maybe not, but I’m only 26 and they make me feel so pressured to get married, start having babies,” she sighed. “My older sister, Alyssa? Happily married with three kids. Violet? In a long-term, happy relationship. And Rachel—she’s not even married but she still has a baby who is basically the light of everyone’s life. Even both of my little sisters have ‘made it’ more than me. I’m just a grad school dropout who broke up with the boyfriend that everyone loved. They spent all of Christmas asking me if we were going to get back together.”

“Yeah, well, did you tell them that Mark was a fucking douche?” Tyson asked, to which Delaney snorted in amusement. You’re the only other person who seems to think so. He let the moment settle before adding, “Delaney, you don’t have to check all of the same boxes as your sisters. You’re literally the smartest person I know.”

“Dropping out of grad school does crazy things for your self confidence,” she said, heart heavy with defeat. It was over halfway through the semester, but saying it out loud never got easier. Delaney wondered what her former classmates were studying, if they missed her absence.

At the end of the fall semester, she’d been crushed to make the decision to pull out of her classes for the spring. Between work, schoolwork, and trying to balance the rest of her little free time between having a social life and having a healthy sleep schedule. her stress levels skyrocketed at the same rate as her student loan payment. It was a painful, but necessary, goodbye. Though she knew she made the right decision, she still felt sad and disappointed when her mind drifted, doing her best to quiet the what ifs that ran through her mind.

Delaney forced herself to focus her thoughts back to the present. “I just… I can’t stand to be a disappointment anymore. I already failed at being a grad student. I don’t want to have to fail at finding a boyfriend, too.”

“I’ll be your boyfriend.”

He blurted it out so quickly that Delaney stared at him for a moment before the confusion seeped in. “What?”

“I mean,” he said after a gulp of water, a slight tinge coating his cheeks, “I’ll come with you. Pretend to be your boyfriend. That way at least there’s one area they can’t rip on you for.”

“Tyson, I can’t ask you to do that,” she said, ignoring the swell in her heart at the image of Tyson Jost holding her hand. She didn’t have time to unpack that yet.

“You’re not asking. I’m offering.” His voice was confident, like he wasn’t going to take ‘no’ for an answer, but gentle, like he’d back down if she really vetoed the offer a second time.

Delaney considered. She felt guilty at the thought of subjecting him to her entire family, making him put on the doting boyfriend act without anything in it for him. That was just how he was, though; generous, giving, willing to do anything for his friends. It really was such a kind gesture of friendship, it almost made her heart ache.

On the other hand, it would save her a headache—she couldn’t deny how much she dreaded the hopeful look in her dad’s eyes when he asked if she was seeing someone—and she did think Tyson would get along with her family. And who wouldn’t want Buffalo’s cutest resident to be her arm candy?

“Okay,” she agreed. “But you need to promise to tell me if you change your mind.”

“Deal,” Tyson said with a grin, holding out his hand. Delaney accepted, shaking it; she ignored the warmth of his palm pressed against hers. “What’s our story, then, babe?”

Heat instantly rose in her cheeks at the pet name. “Okay, rule number one, don’t overdo it with the nicknames. It’ll be too obvious.”

“So no snookums? Honey pie? Sugar plum?”

“No, no, and double no.”

“Aww man,” he pouted. “I was even gonna let you call me ‘cupcake.’”

Delaney rolled her eyes before returning to his original question. “I think our story is the same, for consistency’s sake: We met through friends.”

“Our first date was putt putt and dinner,” he supplied, nodding along. “Kissed you outside your apartment after the second.”

Again, warmth melted over Delaney’s face at the mention of kissing; she felt like a teenager getting teased for having a crush on a boy in her class. And then she realized that she would, in fact, probably have to kiss him on the trip, if they were really hoping to make it believable.

Judging by the way Tyson’s face turned a shade of crimson, she assumed he’d come to the same realization she had.

Maybe they were in for more than they anticipated.

Six weeks later, after creating an entire relationship backstory and studying Delaney’s family tree, Tyson was on a plane to Boston, Bose headphones snugly over his ears. How I Met Your Mother was playing on his iPhone, propped up on the tray table in front of him. Seated beside him was Delaney, lost in her Kindle. Her elbow rested against him on the armrest, her long braid tucked between their arms.

When they landed, Tyson knocked his knee against hers with a grin. A strange flare of nerves and excitement radiated in his chest for a moment, then was gone again.

“C’mon babe, I’ll get your bag for you,” he said. Delaney chuckled, shaking her head with a teasing roll of her eye.

He followed her to the rental car booth, waiting patiently while she sorted out the paperwork for a red Toyota Camry for the hour-long drive to Cape Cod. She nominated him road trip DJ, a title he wore with honor, and the two chatted comfortably as she made her way down the MA-3 South.

Nerves began to flutter again when the GPS had them exiting the highway and indicated he only had about eight more minutes to prepare for his new role as Delaney Taylor’s boyfriend. If she could tell, she didn’t say anything, and he did his best to hide it. He could handle being surrounded by reporters with cameras and phones shoved in his face, peppering him with the same questions about his career and his future; if he could handle that, he thought, he could handle meeting his pretend girlfriend’s family.

Soon enough, they were pulling into the driveway of a large white house, and not thirty seconds after Delaney put the car in park, a small blonde head was running down the front porch steps to greet his new girlfriend. Tyson smiled as he watched Delaney throw the door open and scoop the little girl into her arms before spinning her around in a hug.

Olivia. Delaney’s seven-year-old niece—and favorite one.

“I mean, of course I love all of my nieces and nephews,” she’d explained, “but Olivia and I are soul bonded.” “Liv,” she said gently after setting her down, “there’s someone I want you to meet.” When two wide, inquisitive eyes peered up at him, Tyson instantly understood why she was Delaney’s favorite. He crouched down to meet her gaze as Delaney introduced him. “Olivia, this is Tyson.”

Olivia eyed him and he smiled, waving. She studied him thoughtfully, then said, “Hi. Are you Aunt Delaney’s boyfriend?”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “Is that okay?”

The little girl looked over to her aunt. “Do you like him?”

Delaney’s eyes flicked over to Tyson’s, an amused smile on her face. Heat lingered in his cheeks after her gaze returned to meet Olivia’s. “Yes, I like him.”

“Like-like him?”

“Yep.” Tyson felt a flutter in his chest, like he was a kid on a playground finding out his crush like-liked him too. He hoped it didn’t show on his face.

Olivia turned back to Tyson, observing him keenly for a moment before sticking out her hand. “Okay. It’s okay.”

Tyson laughed again, relief unexpectedly washing through him at her instant approval. “Thank you. I’m really so honored to get Princess Olivia’s blessing.”

The other introductions were easier—Alyssa and Ben (Olivia’s parents), Rachel (Delaney’s sister) and her eight month old daughter, Isla. Tyson smiled warmly at everyone, feeling almost instantly at home amongst the easy way they welcomed him in. Inside the house was the rest of the family: Delaney’s sister Violet, her girlfriend Preethi, Hailey and Noah (Olivia’s older siblings), and Delaney’s dad.

Though he knew it didn’t matter much if he actually made a good impression, as he’d likely never see her family again, Delaney’s father was the person Tyson was most nervous to meet; he knew firsthand what growing up in a single-parent home was like and how close the bond can become with the remaining parent. Based on everything he’d heard about Delaney’s relationship with her father, he knew it was an important impression to nail.

“Mr. Taylor,” he said, extending his hand for a firm handshake. He was surprised at the way his voice trembled slightly, though he did his best to hide his nerves with a smile. “Really great to meet you.”

“Call me Dean,” he said with a wide, genuine smile. It put Tyson at ease, even as he registered how much larger Dean’s hands were than his own.

They exchanged pleasantries, and Tyson was happy with how the first meeting was going. He was impressed with himself, though he couldn’t deny that it was Dean’s easygoing, warm nature that really made it seamless. As a single father of four girls, Tyson wondered how many people had come through the door with the intention of dating one of his daughters—how many people had Dean had this exact interaction with? He wondered what Mark’s was like. He wondered how he measured up.

Tyson told himself it was just his competitive nature, but he found himself hoping that he was at the top of the list.

After introductions, Tyson and Delaney brought their bags in and settled into the third bedroom on the left, their home for the week. Once the door closed, Delaney turned and asked, “How’re you doing out there?”

Tyson laughed, unzipping his bag to hang up a few of his shirts in the wardrobe. “Are you kidding? Your family is great, Delaney. I think we might have to get married. I want to come here every summer.”

“Relax, cowboy. You haven’t even had a single meal with them yet,” laughed Delaney. She was grateful her face was hidden as she knelt to pull her toiletry bag out of her suitcase. Heat burned in her cheeks even as a grin spread across her face. Then, eager to change the subject, she added, “You passed Olivia’s inspection.”

“Dude, I think I fell in love with her. Those eyes!?”

Snorting, Delaney nodded as she walked toward the bathroom to set her bag on the counter. “She does have beautiful eyes.”

She thought she heard him say something like, “Must run in the family,” and she opted to wash her hands in the sink in order to will away the burn on her cheeks before returning to the bedroom to finish unpacking.

They returned downstairs a little while later, having unpacked and changed out of travel clothes to something more beach-friendly. Though it was nearing the end of the day and the sun was beginning to go down, the kids were not ready to give up swimming and making sandcastles for the day. Delaney gestured for Tyson to make himself comfortable when they sat down in the chairs on the deck. A few others trickled out, giving Delaney the opportunity to sit and catch up with a smaller group at a time; she spoke with Rachel about Isla’s new daycare, asked Violet about her anatomy final, and told Preethi about the latest book she read. She was grateful that no one seemed to be interested in asking about her future career plans; for now, it seemed, everyone was content with her handsome, charming boyfriend.

Rachel’s eyes flicked over to Tyson, who was smiling as he took in the conversation. He didn’t have much to say or contribute, but he seemed perfectly happy just listening. It made Delaney’s heart twist a little bit at the thought.

“How you doing over there, buddy?” asked Rachel. Delaney cast an appreciative glance over at her sister, grateful that she was making an effort to include him.

“Me? Oh, I’m doing great,” he said with a grin after a sip of his Labatt. “You guys kind of remind me of my mom, sister, and cousins when they’re all together.”

“Wait, that’s really sweet,” Preethi cooed.

“Okay, you’ve heard us yapping,” Violet said after agreeing with a nod. “Tell us about this infamous Tyson—who I’m still pretty pissed that I only just learned about your existence.”

Delaney offered her sister a sheepish grin and a shrug as Tyson recited the story they’d concocted about their relationship, peppering in details about their first date and their transition from friends to more. Violet seemed skeptical at first, but she seemed to warm up when he shared that he’d harbored a crush on Delaney for months before he asked her out—somehow, that was enough to explain the lack of talk about him.

“We wanted to keep things light in the beginning,” she peppered in. “Just in case things didn’t work out. Didn’t want to make things weird with the rest of our friends.”

Tyson nodded, going along with her ad-libbing and taking it a step further by reaching his hand over to hold hers on the armrest of her Adirondack. His thumb stroked her knuckles, a quiet and subtle gesture of affection that sent warmth flooding to Delaney’s heart. “Fortunately, it worked out and we still have friends.”

It wasn’t long after that Rachel went inside to put Isla to sleep and Violet and Preethi left to pick up Chinese takeout for dinner, leaving Tyson and Delaney alone. The other kids had gone inside to shower, which left their view of the beach unmarred as the sun went down, oranges and purples dancing across the surface of the water. Warmth splayed over her legs, the cool breeze making an otherwise warm evening quite pleasant.

This, she thought, is pure happiness.

“Wow,” Tyson awed, “I mean, I believed you when you said it was beautiful, but this is… it’s insane.”

Delaney laughed, nudging his foot with hers.

“Thank you for coming,” she said softly after a pause. “It really—I can’t say how much it means to me that you really came and did… all this. For me.”

Tyson smiled, the chocolate of his eyes warm as his hand reached over to give hers another squeeze. “For this view? I should be thanking you.”

Though Delaney was sure he was referring to the glowing horizon in front of them, she found herself wishing that wasn’t all that he meant.

—

Dinner was simple, casual, and perfect, with everyone scattered around amongst the dining room table, kitchen bar, and coffee table in the living room. Delaney could feel her heart contract at the sight of it, her family, the sound of their voices and their laughter filling the room of her most favorite place on planet Earth. Every time she looked over at Tyson, he seemed to be laughing, that contagious, bright smile etched across his face. He flitted around, too; one moment, she’d see him at the table with Olivia, Noah, and Dean, the next, at the bar with Rachel, Alyssa, and Hailey.

She was surprised at the way in which he fit in with her family as if he’d been around for years, the way Ben and Preethi had. It was so natural; she was impressed at how well he was selling their fake relationship without missing a single beat. Not a single person, she mused, had any suspicion that it was all a sham.

It sure didn’t feel like a sham to her when he tugged his white t-shirt over his head, tossed it in his bag, and crawled into bed beside her later that night. Delaney did her best to keep from gaping, but she’d never even seen that many abs on a person, let alone the shape of his bicep and the tempting dip of muscles that disappeared into the waistband of his plaid pajama bottoms.

“So how’d I do?” he asked, pulling her out of her head—the one that was imagining exactly where those lines ended beneath the cotton material. Heat flushed to her cheeks, realizing how blatantly she’d been staring, darting her eyes away.

Delaney plugged her phone in on the nightstand and regained her composure before turning to face him. “You’re doing amazing, sweetie.”

“Aw, thanks, buttercup,” he said, tapping her on the nose with a fingertip. “I’m ready to play so much Marco Polo with Olivia tomorrow.”

“You better get some beauty sleep if you’re planning to be the entertainment for the day. The girl’s got stamina.”

“Baby, I was born ready.”

When Tyson woke, it took him a moment to register where he was. The blue paint on the walls, the wooden beams, the spinning fan overhead was all unfamiliar, but there was something sweetly scented that he recognized.

Delaney.

She was sleeping beside him, hair disheveled and falling out of her loose braid. Her breathing was steady, soft, so quiet Tyson could barely hear it. He smiled, watching her for a few moments, appreciating the quiet simplicity of the house’s aura and the effect it had on Delaney; she seemed so at home, so comfortable, like she could take off the armor and be unapologetically herself. He liked seeing that side of her, like it was a privilege to be able to witness her at her most authentic self. He couldn’t wait to see more.

Delaney shifted, causing a strand of hair to fall into her face. Tyson felt a tug in his heart when she nuzzled into his warmth, exhaling softly.

He was her boyfriend now, and as much as he’d bonded with her family the night before, it was still early and he didn’t fancy an awkward conversation over coffee with the few people who had awoken. So, he gave himself a mental shrug and let her sink into the crook of his arm, savoring her warmth.

The subtle floral scent of her shampoo made its way into his nose, and the steady rise and fall of her chest lulled him back into a cat nap, morning sun warming the ocean-cool air. It was her stirring in his arms later, after the sun had risen higher in the sky, streaming light and buttery warmth through the window, that woke him again.

“You were snoring,” she said. Her freshly-awake voice was sleepy, softer than usual. “It was so cute.”

Tyson hummed a soft apology and his cheeks warmed, heat weaving its way through his body when he realized how much of her was pressed against him. He found himself both disappointed and grateful when she stretched and rose first, padding quietly into the bathroom. The bed beside him felt cold, empty, and it was only then that he realized how much he’d been relying on her body heat for warmth.

Breakfast was casual, everyone helping themselves to the assorted bagels, fruit, and yogurt in the fridge. Delaney’s leg brushed against his when he sat back down after a coffee refill, answering Noah’s earnest questions about how to become a professional athlete. He wasn’t sure how he did until he received a grateful look from Alyssa after he told Noah that he always made sure to eat all of his vegetables at dinner.

Since he didn’t need much time to prepare for a beach day, he offered to help Dean clean up the kitchen and load the dishwasher—he was confident he’d made a good first impression, but wanted to solidify a spot on the Good List. By the time he’d started the cycle, Delaney had returned from their shared room and Tyson nearly choked on his coffee when his eyes landed on her. He’d never seen her in anything less than a t-shirt and jeans, and the expanse of her golden skin wasn’t something he had prepared himself for.

Of course he’d noticed the way her eyes bulged when he took his shirt off before bed; he’d bitten his lip to keep from smiling. She had told him to act normal and be himself—it wasn’t his fault he preferred to sleep sans shirt. But after seeing her in beachwear, Tyson’s confidence in his ability to manage his emotions as Delaney’s fake boyfriend was starting to waver. The black linen pants she sported were enough to have him sweating for a moment before he collected himself, tearing his eyes away from the curve of her ass.

Fortunately—and unfortunately—for him, he didn’t have much time to dwell on how well her pants fit her hips and her ass, for Olivia was barreling down the dock, followed closely by Noah, both of whom were calling to Tyson to help them build the world’s largest sand kingdom. Delaney grinned at him, offering a sympathetic shrug before he was being tugged to a spot on the beach by Olivia.

Right away, she directed him to dig the moat, while she and Noah worked on starting the base. Tyson kept the conversation going, asking them both about school and letting them ask him questions about life as a hockey player. Every so often, he’d glance over at Delaney, sitting on the deck with Rachel, Isla, Violet, and Preethi. He smiled at the light in her eyes as she sat, chatting and laughing with her family that he knew she missed dearly. For the first time in a few weeks, she was smiling, the weight on her shoulders temporarily lifted.

This was why he came. Why he traveled 500 miles from home, voluntarily staying in a house full of strangers and was now elbow-deep in wet sand: To take away a pressure point so that she could enjoy her weekend with her family without the unspoken still-single? narratives. She thanked him more times than he could count, but it honestly hadn’t even occurred to him as something that was worth thanking him for.

She was a friend, and she needed something from him. Simple. There was no decision to make. If she needed him, he was there. When a friend asks for help, you help ‘em.

Even if it meant he had to spend an entire weekend with her loud, large family and pretend to be her boyfriend.

Something about playing that role, envisioning himself as the man beside her in her life, made him feel… warm? And kind of fuzzy? Prior to arriving, he’d been a bit anxious at the immense pressure of being able to act the part and pull it all off, but being Delaney’s boyfriend was easy. Her warmth attracted everyone; it was only natural to be drawn to her.

“Tyson?” Olivia’s voice pulled him out of his thoughts.

“Hmm?”

“Are you gonna marry Aunt Dee?”

Tyson felt his cheeks tinge with pink heat, stuttering for an answer; he got the strange sense that Olivia had been reading his thoughts. His gaze flicked over to the girl in question, gently rocking Isla in her arms. For a brief moment, his brain conjured the idea that she was holding their daughter, and he couldn’t keep up with the surge of emotions in his chest.

He cleared his throat, blinking away the thought. “Um, yeah. Maybe. Do you think I should?”

“Yeah,” she said after a moment of introspection. “She smiles a lot with you.”

“She does?”

“Duh. You’re her boyfriend.”

Tyson hummed, letting Olivia drop a handful of sand into the bucket he was holding. He packed it in before helping Noah place the next section of the wall.

He’d be so lucky to marry someone half as wonderful as Delaney.

The sun warmed Delaney’s skin, amplified by Isla’s body heat, sleeping soundly in her arms. She smiled down at her newest niece, drinking in her tiny features.

“You got yourself a good one, Del,” Rachel said, causing Delaney to glance up at the use of her name. “He’s wonderful.”

Delaney swallowed the urge to respond that Tyson wasn’t hers, that he could only ever be hers in her dreams—or, in this case, in an entirely fake scenario. Even in the first 24 hours, everything had come so naturally to them, she had to remind herself that he was only there out of pity, not out of any sort of inkling of real feelings for her. The thought stung, but she pushed it aside to unpack later.

“It’s actually so sweet how in love with you he is,” Violet agreed. “I love watching him look at you.”

“Oh my God, right?” Preethi gushed. “Every time I look over at him, he’s staring at you with that dumb little smile on his face. It’s so cute.”

The thump of her heart quickened at her family’s words. She’d never seen the looks they were talking about. In fact, she’d never even seen him looking in her direction when she’d sneak glances at him across the room, keeping tabs on his whereabouts and if he generally appeared to be enjoying himself.

“Do you loooove him?” Violet asked. Her sing-song voice made Delaney roll her eyes.

“No, of course not,” she said, far too quickly, before she realized that being in love with her boyfriend is kind of the end goal when in a relationship. “I mean, not yet. It’s not been that long.”

She ignored Rachel’s glance, allowing Violet to nudge her knee with her own. “Alright. Well, no time like the present.”

“Judging by the way he looks at you, I think your boy is already there,” Rachel said.

Heat surged to Delaney’s cheeks. She knew it wasn’t true, but they had every reason to believe it. It was strange to be at the center of a lie, watching as the strings began to weave an intricate pattern—all because she couldn’t bear to disappoint her family again.

And Tyson had been more than willing to jump in and help her; in fact, he wouldn’t take no for an answer. She was overwhelmed with his generosity, his kindness. The display of friendship made her heart ache. And now, here he was, convincing everyone in her life that he was her boyfriend—so well that her sisters were convinced that this wonderful man was in love with her.

She made a mental note to compliment Tyson on his acting abilities. “Stop. He’s not.”

“Girl,” Violet said disbelievingly. “You go off to la la land with that dopey-ass smile on your face when your sister says he’s in love with you, and you think you don’t love him?”

“Let her get there on her own, Vi,” Preethi said, resting a hand gently on her girlfriend’s arm. She winked at Delaney before saying, “You’re right, though.”

After another roll of her eyes, Delaney glanced to the sparkling water beyond the dock for a reprieve from her interrogation. The waves softly rolled toward the shore, whispering her name on their breath. She nudged Isla into her sister’s arms before rising from her seat, stretching. “It’s time.”

Rachel’s “Have fun!” followed Delaney as she headed down the dock, slipping her linen cover-up down her legs and tightening the straps on her bikini. At the end, she wasted no time diving in, letting the water surround her.

Delaney swam around, letting the coolness of the water soothe her warm skin. Ever since she was a little girl, she��d been coming to this place, and something about the feeling of the water on her skin was cleansing; purifying even. The weight of the world seemed to melt away in this place, pressures and stressors and everything else muted while she was there with her people.

This time around was different. This time, her life back at home was in shambles, unable to catch a break. But this time, she also had Tyson by her side, there to alleviate the pressure so she could have an escape. His presence was different from how Mark’s had been, despite the fact that Mark was actually her boyfriend. Tyson seemed to understand her, listened without judgment, supported her without question.

Tyson saw her in a way that Mark never had—maybe in a way that even her family never had.

—

Tyson was helping Olivia put the final touches on the sandcastle, which included a garage for her Barbie Jeep, when movement on the porch steps caught his eye. His throat went dry when he saw what—or who—was making their way toward the water.

Delaney, stripping out of that linen outfit, excitedly speed-walking down the dock. He felt heat rush to his cheeks, his heart thudding in his chest. Unable to help the way his eyes traveled over her skin, he let his gaze drag up her legs, over her curves. Fuck. She looked good.

A shriek sounded beside him, and Tyson’s eyes went wide as his head whipped to Olivia. Only when he saw her smiling did he realize that she was shrieking with joy, presumably at the sight of Delaney jumping in the water, if the cheering was any indication.

“Aunt Dee! Aunt Dee!” she squealed, dropping her sand shovel and running back toward the shed. She handed him a Frozen floaty, indicating for him to help her blow it up. Once she was situated, the floaties wrapped securely around her upper arms, she was bounding down the dock toward her aunt. The sound of a splash, followed shortly by a squeal and laughter informed Tyson that she had successfully made it.

He smiled fondly, making his own way down to the end of the dock where Delaney was helping Olivia make a whirlpool.

“Incoming!” he shouted, tossing his t-shirt and sunglasses to the side before he cannonballed in amidst screams from both girls. Rising to the surface, he was met with splashes from Olivia’s tiny feet, which he quickly grabbed and tugged her toward him to lug her over his shoulders. Another squeal left her mouth as he launched her—safely—out of his arms, crashing into the water.

Delaney laughed beside him, watching Olivia’s triumphant smile as she rose to the surface. Moments too late, she realized that she was Tyson’s next target, her eyes going wide when his hands found her waist. He ignored the feeling of her skin beneath his fingertips and the way she fit in his arms as he lifted her, too—much to Olivia’s delight, who was chanting for him to toss Delaney.

“One, two—”

“Tyson, put me down!” Delaney shrieked.

With a wink at Olivia, he shrugged and said, “You asked.” With that, he launched her and watched her land in the water with a satisfying splash. When she emerged, Olivia was laughing so hard that Tyson couldn’t help but join in. Delaney spluttered, sending a splash of ocean water toward him that he quickly dodged.

He turned to Olivia, still giggling, and ignored Delaney’s sharp protests beside him. His eyebrow raised and he leaned in to Olivia. “We playing mermaids next, or what?”

Prior to arriving at the Taylor family cottage, Delaney had taught Tyson the family dynamics and the Annual Family vacation rules. First and foremost, to relax and spend time with family. If you weren’t having fun, you weren’t required to participate in anything—and there was usually so much going on that it wasn’t difficult to find something to do.

Another rule they’d developed early on was that each couple gets a guaranteed, guilt-free date night. Established after Hailey was born so that Alyssa and Ben could have a night to themselves, it had simply stuck as each sister added a significant other to the ever-growing Taylor family.

When Violet announced that Tyson and Delaney’s assigned night was Wednesday, his faux girlfriend was quick to assure him behind closed doors that they didn’t have to do anything crazy— “like a real date, or anything.” Tyson, though, brushed her off and was determined to commit fully to the bit.

It took a fair bit of wrangling and no shortage of dawdling to get himself alone with Alyssa to ask where he should take Delaney on a date. He couldn’t explain why his cheeks were so warm talking with her, taking note of her suggestions like he was in a Calculus class. While their relationship was a farce, he reasoned, that didn’t mean that he couldn’t take Delaney out for a memorable evening.

When the night arrived, Tyson fought a flutter of nerves in his chest. He had to actively fight the feeling of being a 16-year-old boy nervous for his first date, despite the fact that he was well into his twenties and had quite literally been sharing a bed with his date for three days. Waiting downstairs with Preethi, Violet, and Hailey, he did his best to act normal like it wasn’t his first-ever date with Delaney.

Like a scene from a movie, he felt his heart leap into his throat when she made her way down the stairs. She was stunning, despite having thrown on “just a sundress”; the body of the dress fit her torso like a glove, the skirt flowing at her waist. A milkmaid dress, he was told it was called—whatever it was, he liked it.

Dinner was simple, one of Alyssa’s top recommendations at which he somehow managed to snag the last remaining reservation. Once they arrived, he understood why: the wall facing the beach was made entirely of windows, leaving the entire restaurant a gorgeous view of the bay and the subsequent sunset. The room was already beginning to fill with the rich oranges and pinks as the sun slid closer and closer to the horizon.

“How romantic,” Delaney commented with a smirk, nudging him with her elbow. “Candlelit dinner at sunset? Should I be expecting a proposal later?”

Tyson’s face split into a grin, patting his pocket. He could’ve sworn his arm radiated warmth when she pulled away from him. “Shh. Don’t ruin the surprise!”

“Aww, you’re so sweet, honey bee.”

The meal itself was good—homemade pasta and some kind of whipped eggplant that had him contemplating ordering a second helping—but the highlight was sitting across the table from Delaney, talking freely and feeling on top of the world when she laughed at his stupid jokes. The flickering flame of the candle on her face, illuminating her skin, her smile, the glint of her necklace resting on her collarbones; her thick hair falling in loose waves, the strands around her face soft and so very Delaney. All of it—all of her—had completely sucked him in, fully underneath her spell and he couldn’t have been happier.

Tyson didn’t realize how much he’d been craving her individual attention until he had her uninhibited attention: her eyes locked on his, so in tune and in touch with everything he was saying, nodding along enthusiastically with every word out of his mouth. It was intoxicating to have her all to himself, immersed in him as he was in her.

He was addicted.

Tyson saw the waitress lingering out of the corner of his eye, praying she wouldn’t interrupt Delaney’s story—something about a new exhibit at Buffalo’s art museum; honestly, he was mostly just consumed by the spark in her eyes. Instead of checking in, the waitress approached the table silently, refilling water glasses and wine without a word before walking away.

I’m tipping you 50%, he thought to himself, leaning right back into everything Delaney, Delaney, Delaney.

Eventually, the waitress did return and burst their bubble, but Tyson was already on cloud nine, suggesting a walk on the boardwalk to get ice cream just to prolong the feeling for a little longer. The evening breeze paired with the lack of sun had goosebumps dotting Delaney’s arms, and it was all too easy for him to slip an arm over her shoulder and tuck her into his warmth.

Driving home was like a scene from a movie, her phone plugged into the aux cord and Taylor Swift’s You Belong With Me blaring from the speakers. With a grin, Delaney cranked the volume up and Tyson found himself loudly singing the words alongside her; fortunately, the sound of his off-tune serenade was drowned out by the music. She sang to him, using her fist as a microphone as she danced in the passenger seat of his car.

Pulling in the driveway didn’t stop Tyson from continuing his performance, instead throwing open the door and running around to open Delaney’s, tugging her out to spin her in a circle at the instrumental break. He pulled her back into his arms, relishing the laughter she let out when he dipped her backwards.

The song faded to its end, the sound replaced by a softer one, the melody sweet and lulling. A faint beachy breeze blew past, and Tyson found himself pulling Delaney’s body closer. Her eyes were warm, looking up at him with a softness that made his heart melt and time stand still.

Tyson told himself it was gravity that drew him in, pulling him closer to her lips, suddenly yearning to know what her lip gloss tasted like. The world came to a spinning halt around him when he pressed his mouth to hers, like the universe wanted him to savor the moment. He kissed her more firmly, a strange tug in his chest letting his tongue flit against the seam of her mouth. She tasted sweet, like the strawberry ice cream he’d bought her on the boardwalk.

His hand moved up to her neck, cupping the side of her jaw to deepen the kiss, savoring the next sigh she expelled. He didn’t want to ever stop kissing her, not now that he finally knew what her lips felt like against his own. It warmed him from the inside out, like a buttery sunshine spreading through his veins, pulsing in time with the beat of his heart.

Tyson forced himself to pull away, consciousness seeping back in through the Delaney-infused haze surrounding him. The expression painted on her face was dreamy, her eyes unfocused as she blinked them open, a little hitch of surprise in her throat as reality seeped back in around them. He swallowed the urge to kiss her again.

—

Blinking, Delaney stood in shock. A rush of cool air hit her face from the space that Tyson had just occupied. She blinked again, lips tingling.

Once Delaney managed to get her wits about her, she did her best to keep her voice level. “You didn’t have to… we don’t have to—”

Tyson’s smile was nearly enough to make her knees wobble—though she was stabilized by his hands firm on her waist. He didn’t seem to be nearly as impacted as she was—heart thumping rapidly in her chest, mouth dry, fumbling to right herself on shaky legs. “Violet and Preethi have been spying on us from the upstairs window for ten minutes.”

“Oh.”

In an instant, Delaney deflated. She glanced down at her feet, trying to hide her embarrassment—at both the idea of her intimate moment being impeded on, and at her own stupidity for thinking that the entire evening hadn’t been just an act. He’d been so sweet, so perfect, that she’d allowed herself to really believe in their lie, even for just a few hours. She could’ve sworn there was something so genuine about the way he held her hand on the boardwalk, the way his eyes watched her lips—

And that kiss. She really needed to ask him where he’d learn to be such a good actor, because he was convincing.

“C’mon, pookie,” Tyson said, taking her hand. Her thoughts vanished upon hearing his voice. “We’ve given them enough to look at.”

Back in the house, they were greeted by a few people in the sitting room, gathered on the couches watching a movie. Ignoring the barely-hidden grins from Violet and Preethi, Delaney offered a quick ‘hello’ and exchanged a few words about dinner before heading upstairs—“I’m tired,” was her excuse.

She hoped her family didn’t notice that she couldn’t get upstairs fast enough.

Inside the locked bathroom, she turned on the faucet to imitate washing her face. Instead, her face crumpled as a sob wracked her body, warm tears spilling freely out of her eyes. The shift from on top of the world after the kiss to the fall in realizing it was all for show was jarring; she knew what she was agreeing to when he offered to pose as her boyfriend, but she hadn’t thought of the tease it would be for her heart to have Tyson be hers for the week. It hurt more than she’d expected to have him openly acting, to know what it felt like to kiss him and have it be all for show.

The little smiles, soft touches on the back of her arm as he’d pass in the kitchen, the brush of his fingertips on her waist in the lake. All of it so natural, sly, clandestine, like he wanted it to be a secret just for the two of them—and because it wasn’t an elaborate public display to uphold the falsehood for her family, it had only naturally drawn her to the conclusion that maybe there was some truth behind it.

That kind of thinking was too good to be true, she told herself. She wasn’t the main character of some romance novel; she was just Delaney.

And guys like Tyson didn’t go for girls like Delaney.

The next few days passed peacefully: jet skiing, swimming, and plenty of mermaids. If Tyson could sense any change in her after their date, he didn’t show it. In fact, if anything, he’d doubled down on his affection, brushing her cheek with his lips when he walked by, falling asleep with an arm loose around her hip, stroking the back of her hand by the fire.

It was wonderful and infuriating all at once. Delaney couldn’t help but lean into him, unable to resist his touch, even though she knew it would crush her even more once Sunday rolled around and it was time to leave. She could barely even think about telling her family they’d ‘broken up’—but she was getting ahead of herself.

She knew she should bring it up with him, tell him how she felt, but she couldn’t bear to make things weird and ruin the rest of the trip. For the rest of the week, she reasoned, she’d let herself live in the fantasy. Enjoy another few days of blissful ignorance. And she’d deal with the consequences of her actions later.

Hurt feelings were future Delaney’s problem.

It was Friday when the kids announced that everyone was cordially invited to a play performed by them that evening. Both Delaney and Tyson helped them to construct a few of the props necessary—including a reindeer made out of a tarp and a bike and multiple paper crowns.

Before the show, Delaney followed Tyson into the kitchen to retrieve a beverage for the show. As she poured herself a glass of wine, Tyson passed behind her, hand brushing against her waist when he reached past her to grab a High Noon from the fridge. They turned at the same time, bumping into one another, causing her white wine to spill down her front.

“Shit, I’m sorry—” she said, only to have him interrupt with a sudden kiss.

Initially caught off guard, it only took her a few moments to recover before she was kissing back, addicted to the feeling of his lips against hers. That same beautiful warmth filled her, a kind of light that she only experienced with him. She wanted to devour him, to have him devour her, to think and feel nothing but Tyson—

And then he pulled away. Lips wet, cheeks flushed, she could see the emotion swirling behind his beautiful brown eyes. “Delaney—”

But, with her wits about her now that he wasn’t making her dizzy with his kiss, she knew what came next. She interrupted him before he could finish. “Don’t.”

“Don’t?” Tyson’s brows furrowed together, confusion knitting between them. “Don’t what?”

Delaney shook her head and repeated herself. “Whatever you’re about to say, I don’t want to hear it. It isn’t fair.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You think you’re catching feelings, right? Because you’ve had to act like it all week.”

Tyson blinked, clearly surprised that she’d taken the words out of his mouth. But the surprised expression quickly morphed into one of frustration.

“So you’re not even going to give me the chance to speak?”

“I can’t hear you say it, Tyson—not unless you mean it,” Delaney said, then added softly, “Not when this has been the best week of my life because I’ve gotten to pretend you were mine—which is all I’ve wanted since we met.”

She watched his eyes soften, and the pity she imagined there nearly made her sick. It was a necessary evil, though; she needed to intercept his confession before he said it out loud. She couldn’t bear to hear him emit those words, couldn’t hear him confirm what she knew to be true: a future with her wasn’t in the cards for him. He’d never say it, probably wouldn’t even admit it to himself, but she knew that he was too good for her, that someone like her didn’t deserve someone like him. She wasn’t ready to burst the final bubble of her beautiful fantasy, leaving her cold and sad and alone.

But instead of sympathy, or a patronizing statement, Tyson adopted a bite to his words. “You think I fell for you on purpose? I didn’t have a choice, Delaney.”

Something about the way he said it felt like a slash to her heart, like he had fallen for her but wished he hadn’t. It stung more than she expected, more than him simply not reciprocating her feelings.

“This was your idea in the first place, Tyson. You committed to this,” she reminded him coolly. “It’s not my fault you’ve never seen a rom-com before. I didn’t force you to do shit.”

“Delaney, that’s not what I’m saying—”

Against her will, tightness formed in her throat, a sting hot behind her eyes. “I thought I could handle it. Having you be mine. I’ve always known it would come to an end, that I’d have to go back to life as it was. But I didn’t realize how much different it’d be knowing how it feels to kiss you, to hold your hand. To have you look at me like I’m the only person in the world.”

“Then you should’ve fucking told me that before you let me be your boyfriend!”

This is going nowhere, she thought to herself. She needed to walk away from him, right now, before the wall of tears threatening to burst through came pouring out.

Delaney took a breath, searching for the words that would wound him the way he wounded her. She steeled herself, feeling a cool exterior blanket her and harden into place like a cast. “Well, I didn’t. Sue me. I just need you to do your job for another 24 hours, and after that, we don’t ever have to speak again. Okay?”

She turned on her heel without waiting for a response, though she heard him say her name as she walked back outside to where her family was gathered on the patio. Her body thrummed as she returned to Rachel’s side, her younger sister casting a glance of concern in her direction. Delaney ignored her, smiling and turning to Hailey, Noah, and Olivia’s performance—Frozen, the musical.

A movement in her periphery told her that Tyson, too, had returned to the group, taking the seat beside the makeshift stage that Olivia had saved for him. She could feel his gaze lingering on her, but she refused to give him the satisfaction of acknowledging him.

“Good?” Rachel’s voice was quiet, subtle, concerned. Delaney nodded, and she knew that her sister knew she wasn’t, in fact, good. She was grateful that Rachel knew her well enough to know to let it be, that she’d talk when she was ready. For now, Delaney wanted to stew a little bit.

So stew she did, staying mostly quiet as the musical wrapped up. The performers received a standing ovation before a fire was started and the usual chatter began. Darkness fell, the moon rising higher in the sky, their voices swallowed by the night air. Delaney offered a few comments here and there and helped Noah with his s’more, watching the group dwindle as more and more of them went off to bed for the night. Tyson, to his credit, remained by the fire too, helping to keep the kindle stocked—almost like he was saying, ‘I can go all night.’

But so could she.

—

The crackle of the wood and the lick of the flames hypnotized Tyson, pulling him in and quieting thoughts running through his mind as he replayed the conversation they’d had. Admittedly, he’d lost his temper a little bit, frustrated that Delaney wouldn’t let him get a word in edgewise, that she’d somehow made him out to be the bad guy.

As the kids began to make their way to bed, Tyson indulged in another beer—or three. Not enough to be drunk drunk, but enough to wash away some of the rogue emotions swimming around inside of him. He kept his eye on Delaney, who appeared to be stewing silently across from him and refusing to make eye contact with him.

But he was determined; he wasn’t going to let her slip away—not this time. Not after her confession. Not when he still had things to say that she needed to hear.

So he waited, making casual conversation with those remaining, the chairs around him slowly emptying out until it was only him, Dean, and Delaney remaining. He cast another glance over to her, startled to see her already looking at him. He couldn’t read the expression on her face, but he held her gaze through the tips of the orange flames dancing between them regardless. Something in his heart swelled, even though he was pretty sure he’d fucked it all up—he just wasn’t exactly sure what he did wrong.

“You know, your mother and I looked at each other like that.”

With a blink, Delaney broke eye contact to turn and look at Dean. Tyson had never heard her talk about her mom, save for an occasional memory. Her lips parted—in surprise, maybe—before she said, “Like what?”

“Like there was no one else around,” Dean said simply.

Delaney’s eyes flicked to Tyson’s. He swallowed carefully, suddenly all too aware at Dean’s implication, whether intentional or not. As her boyfriend, he was supposed to want a future with her: that was the end goal.

He didn’t have to feel guilty.

So he smiled, letting her see the warmth and happiness that Dean’s statement filled him with. He wanted her to know that when he was with her, the rest of the world faded away.

She was his Cape Cod. His escape from the upcoming pressures of free agency, of the already-exhausting training regimen that waited for him upon return home, of his future in the NHL on the line. With Delaney, none of it seemed to matter so much. As long as she was by his side, everything seemed like it’d be okay.

“Goodnight, you two,” said Dean’s amused voice. In his inner monologue, Tyson had completely forgotten that Dean was around, and he jumped slightly when he’d interrupted his train of thought. “Put the fire out when you come inside, will you?”

“Yeah,” Delaney called after him, glancing back at Tyson. “Goodnight, dad.”

Tyson waited until the crunch of Dean’s shoes on the sand disappeared up the lighted walkway to the house. “Delaney…”

“I’m sorry,” she interrupted. “I was being selfish. I shouldn’t have— it wasn’t fair of me to not even let you say your piece.”

“I didn't know how you felt. I… I wish you’d told me,” he said, gently. “I wouldn’t have wanted to tease you.”

“I didn’t want to make things weird between us,” she confessed. “I didn’t really think about anything being different after this.”

Tyson nodded in understanding. The fire crackled beside him, burning bright in the cool darkness around them. He wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol or his proximity to Delaney that made everything seem so damn beautiful. Probably a mix of both.

“You can say your piece now. I won’t interrupt this time.” She smiled, following where his gaze had just been, watching a spark pop beneath one of the logs.

“It’s not much of a piece,” he said. “I didn’t really think about how I was going to say this.”

“So, just say it.”

“I love you.”

Delaney snorted, rolling her eyes. “Tyson, you’re drunk.”

“I know. This isn’t exactly the way I envisioned first saying it to you, but I need you to know,” he confessed, aware that he was on the verge of drunk rambling. He composed himself and repeated, “I love you, Delaney.”

Delaney’s smile faded, staring at him. Her eyes studied his face, almost like she was searching for the truth in his own eyes. Convinced he could prove it, he stood and walked around the fire, moving into the empty seat beside her—only wobbling once en route. Her breath caught in her throat at the new proximity and he reached across the armrest to take her hand in his.

“You said not to say it unless I meant it,” he whispered. “I mean it.”

He watched as the weight of his words settled in, even drunk Tyson having enough wherewithal to know that it was time for silence. Slowly, a smile began to spread across her features.

Illuminated by the glow of the fire, Tyson thought it was the most beautiful he’d ever seen her look.

“Are you still gonna mean it when we leave here on Sunday?” she asked, eyeing him. “You’re not going to get back to Buffalo and shake out of this vacation high?”

“Whatever you need me to do to prove it to you, I will,” he said solemnly. “But I really, really would like to kiss you first, if that’s okay with you.”

Her eyes widened with surprise, just briefly, but then she was smiling again and nodding. With a finesse that only a drunk person could manage, he leaned forward to cup her jaw with his hand, nose brushing her own affectionately. He savored the feeling of her breath against his lips and closed his eyes.

As it had both times before, her kiss lit him on fire from the inside out. He poured himself into her, hoping that he could convey his sincerity with the depth of his kiss.

SIX WEEKS LATER

The buzz of her phone had Delaney setting down the Lego instruction booklet to glance at it. Smiling at the contact photo—Tyson, freshly awoken, his hair sticking straight up—she turned the screen to Noah, earning a wide smile with an extra tooth missing. She swiped to answer, letting the camera face her nephew.

“Noah! Hey, buddy,” Tyson’s voice greeted with a laugh. “What’re you up to?”

“We’re making a Spiderman Lego set! Look!”

“Wow, that’s awesome. I wish I could do it with you. You look like a real hockey player with those teeth missing.”

Noah smiled again, showing off the two gaps where his baby teeth had recently fallen out. Delaney started to flip the camera back to herself when a voice sounded from the other room. “Tyson! Tyson!”

Little feet pattered excitedly through the doorway, Olivia’s face beaming as she ran to grab the phone from Delaney’s hands. “Hi, Tyson.”

“Hey, Liv. When are you coming to visit me and Aunt Dee?”

She jumped up and down excitedly, looking at Delaney. “Aunt Dee said we can come and have a sleepover over winter break!”

“That sounds awesome. We can wear matching pajamas,” he said, earning a giggle from Olivia, who launched into an elaborate itinerary for their slumber party, including candy, a makeover, and a Frozen marathon.

“I can’t wait,” he said. “Hey, do you think I could talk to Aunt Dee?”

With a nod, Olivia said her goodbyes and made him promise to text her goodnight. Flipping the camera back to herself, Delaney smiled and raised her eyebrows. “Hi.”

“Hi, muffin,” he said, an easy smile curling up on his own face. He was sitting outside on a porch, curls peeking out from under a gray hoodie. “How was your interview?”

“Really good. We’re going to schedule a final interview at the museum next week once I get back. I’m pretty sure I’m going to get the job.”

Tyson’s smile grew wider. “That’s great news. One step closer to the Met!”

“I’m good with Buffalo’s art museum for now,” she said. “I don’t want to be that far from you.”

“Aww, honey bear,” he teased. Delaney wrinkled her nose, rolling her eyes at him. Her interview had been over video call, taken from Ben’s office at their house in Rochester. If all went well, she would soon become Buffalo AKG Art Museum’s new Membership Coordinator.

Things were looking up for her. And even though life wasn’t perfect, she had Tyson and her family to help her get through whatever came her way.

SIMILAR CONTENT:

Third Time’s the Charm* Adore You Love It If We Made It* One Night Standards

#nkh bookstore #AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!!!#JUST AMAZING WONDERFUL MASTERPIECE INCREDIBLE ETC ETC ETC #Y'ALL NEED TO READ THIS NOW OR ELSE! THAT'S A THREAT!!#!!!

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darknessawaits28 · 3 days ago

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Oh My Darling {Loki x pregnant reader}

Hello my lovies! Wanted to give you a short story about Loki finding out you are pregnant. Hope you enjoy my lovies! Thank you for all your love and support! Stay awesome! :3

Warnings: sensual gifs, mention of vomit, and very small things that might make someone uncomfortable.

Story was requested by @marley-suguru4143, make sure to give them a follow! :3

Asgard, the kingdom of gods and goddesses. It was a beautiful sight that could bring anyone to their knees. Odin was the all-father that ruled among this kingdom, he was a stubborn yet fierce man that ruled with an iron fist. He is wise, honorable, and dedicated to keeping the peace between the realms. His beautiful wife and queen is Frigga who is kind, gentle, and such a loving soul. They both had two sons, Thor Odinson, the God of Thunder, and Loki Laufeyson, the God of Mischief; well adopted. It was a peaceful time in the kingdom, but a lot of heads were turning sideways at the sight of the wife of Loki. You were a mortal, something that the gods and goddesses did not want to see in their realm, but they kept quiet because Frigga always protected her sons, no matter how ridiculous their actions may seem.

Within the walls of Royal Palace of Valaskjalf, sounds of heavy boots could be heard stomping their way along the marble floors. It was the prince of Asgard, worriedly trying to find his beloved. Ever since they had consummated their marriage a couple of months ago, his beloved has been acting quite strange, sneaking out in the middle of the night, consuming various plates of food, and….a lot of visits to the washroom. He didn’t want to impose on you and ask you various questions that could possibly make you already stressed as it is; afterall, you were the princess now and had royal duties to perform.

“You there, have you seen my beloved?” Loki asked one of the passing servants.

“Hello sire, yes, she is partaking in the feast that we have just prepared, hope you enjoy.”

“Oh, thank you” Loki nodded, continuing to walk past the servant towards the great hall, his green cape flowing elegantly behind him. Once he arrived at the great hall, he sighed happily at the sight of you, filling your plate as usual. “Hello my darling,” Loki cooed as he approached from behind you, wrapping his arms around you ever so slightly.

“Loki!” You gasped, pulling away from him slightly, not wanting to give him the hint that you had a bump hiding underneath your dress.

Loki, taken aback by you pulling away from him, furrowed his brow, “Are you alright my love?” “Did I by any chance make you uncomfortable?”

“Oh no my love, my apologies, I am not feeling well of late so….any touch is…..painful for me….”. “It isn’t you of course, so please don’t feel angered.”

“Of course not my darling, why would I be angered?” Loki smiled as much as he could, feeling a bit hurt that you tossed him aside when you were in pain instead of cuddling up close to him and telling him what hurts so he could potentially heal you.

“Hello my son, how are you?” Frigga smiled, pressing a kiss to his cheek and then gently placed her hand against your back. “Good to see you again my dear.”

“Mother” Loki smiled, giving her a kiss back when she had approached him.

“Hello your highness, it is a pleasure to see you again as well” You smiled, taking a bite of the chicken that was on your plate.

“Did you tell him yet?” Frigga ecstatically questioned.

Shocked to hear her even ask that question, you shook your head quickly to give her an indication that you never even mentioned the idea of you being pregnant to him because you truly were afraid of telling him, but mostly due to the stress he was currently under.

“Oh, my apologies then, do not worry about it then Loki” Frigga gulped, hoping that she didn’t overstep.

“Tell me what?” Loki asked curiously, his stomach already doing flips at whatever the ‘news’ was.

“Nothing my love, it isn’t important…oh…uh…excuse me” you gulped, setting the plate down and covering your mouth as you headed towards the washroom.

“Darling, are you alright?” Loki gasped as he tried to rush to your aid but was pulled back by his mother. “Mother please, let me help my wife!”

“I know honey, but I know she will refuse your help.”

Shaking his head in anger, he gripped his forehead, wanting to ask you but still pulled himself back so as to not upset you. “What is going on with her?” “Is it our food she is eating that is making her stomach upset?” “I can perfectly go down to Miguard and get her proper mortal food if that is what’s causing her anguish.” “I just feel so useless!” Loki nearly shouted in anger as he sat down on the chair closest to him.

Frigga smiled softly as she walked over to her son and pressed a gentle kiss against his forehead, “I would tell you, but that is not my place my darling.” “But I assure you, she is perfectly healthy, along with her passenger.”

“Passenger?” Loki questioned as he stood from his chair, a loud gasp escaping his lips when he realized what she had meant. “No, it can’t be?” “Y/n!” He shouted loudly, possibly alerting the whole kingdom.

Meanwhile, you were in the washroom, breathing heavily as you sat on the floor near the bathtub, gripping the small bump that you had, feeling quite nauseous and weak. Although, you jumped violently at the sound of Loki calling your name, knowing for a fact that something was wrong. “Oh no, not now” you groaned, gasping when you began to dry heave into the bathtub.

Loki, hearing the sound of pain, quickly rushed into the washroom, kneeling down to hold you gently, “My love, why didn’t you tell me?”

“Ah…tell you what my love?” you grabbed the cloth beside you, covering your mouth so as to not bring disgust to him by your vomit.

“You’re with child aren’t you?” Loki said out of breath, being so overjoyed and proud that he was to be a father soon.

Hearing him finally figure it out brought tears to your eyes as you nodded, “Yes….yes….” you chuckled, slowly grabbing his hand with your free one and placed it gently on your bump.

Loki, feeling your bump and then a kick, brought soft tears to his eyes as well. “Oh my love, why didn’t you tell me before?”

“I didn’t want to bother you my love, you were so busy as it is, and I was as well with my royal duties.” “Besides I was going to tell you tonight, in our bed together, so that I could cuddle up close to you and….tell you that I was pregnant.”

“You do not need to worry about my stress y/n, that is my duty, your only duty is to be happy and comfortable” He smiled, cupping your cheek gently and pressed a gentle kiss against your forehead. “Oh, I’m going to be a father….what joy.”

“I’m sorry that I did not….oh dear!” you gasped, turning to your side and dry heaving into the bathtub once again.

“Oh y/n” Loki worriedly spoke as he rubbed your back gently to help you. “You need not to apologize.” “All you need to do now is relax, I am going to make sure that your royal duties fall upon me.” “And do not fret, I will have enough time to be by your side.”

“Thank you my love, but I need to be in bed now…” you sighed in pain, turning towards him to give him such innocent and weak eyes.

Loki, seeing the state of you, brought a shatter to his heart. He felt horrid that he wasn’t there from the beginning to help you feel better. But at least now he can be by your side for the time being and help you feel as comfortable as possible. “Come my darling, let me help you.”

“But I’m heavy,” you joked.

“Nonsense” he smiled, pushing a strand of your hair behind your ear and then picking you up bridal style. “Let’s get you cleaned up and dressed in comfortable clothing.”

As he exited the bathroom, Frigga noticed how her son was carrying you, knowing very well that he had raised him well; she felt so proud of him.

After a few minutes, you were dressed, cleaned up, and already in bed, wrapped up all nice and warm. “This feels so much better” you sighed happily.

“Does it?” he chuckled as he pulled off his royal attire, and then stood there with no shirt, and simple pants that outlined his elegant yet delicious legs.

“My, you do look ravishing Loki” You giggled, a blush covering your cheeks.

“Do I now?” He spoke cockily, slowly walking over to approach you and then carefully crawled onto you. “You know that’s my line to speak my love” he chuckled, softly cupping your cheeks and bringing you into a deep kiss.

“Mm darling, be gentle with me, you know I’m carrying your daughter” You teased him.

“Daughter?!” he gasped with eyes wide open when he pulled away from the kiss.

Hearing his shock brought a loud chuckle to your lips, quickly pulling him back in for a kiss to silence him as you both consummated once again.

#love #love story #smut #short story #loki #loki laufeyson #mcu loki #loki series #lokius #loki odinson #loki mcu #loki laufesyon x reader #loki x pregnant reader #loki x reader #loki x you #loki x y/n

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et-is-an-alien · 16 days ago

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I JUST FINISHED GOOD OMENS SEASON ONE AND OH MY GOD THEY'RE 10X MORE GAY THAN I EXPECTED

The narrator mentioned a nightingale singing in the park at the same time as their "date", and the symbolization of that is LOVE AND PASSION, along with feeling a deep desire to have your own song answered in kind by someone who understands you

OH MY GOOOD

I also love the way their expressions light up when they recognize each other (Aziraphale when his back was turned and he heard his voice, and Crowley when he got HAMMERED because he thought he died)

#RAAGGHHHHH #“Do you want to stay with me?” OH MY GOD JUST KISS ALREADY #YOU'RE GAY FOR EACH OTHER WE KNOW #ain't no WAY they're not #I am eating the constant dates UP #ngl I was squealing #ineffable husbands #aziraphale #aziracrow #crowley #good omens

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tonycries · 3 months ago

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Long Overdue!

Synopsis. Just cóckwarming? Funny, you’ll see who breaks first - him or your poor pússy.

Pairings. [SEPARATE] Gojo x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, cóckwarming, creampíes, puníshments, REALLY NÉEDY BOYS, breéding, MAJOR overstím, slight exhíbitionism (Toji’s), spítting, they bég, pússy-slappíng, cúmplay, absolutely ruíning Ryomen Sukuna, marathon séx, chokíng, jealousy (Toji’s side), mean Geto, spànking, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 5.9k (sowwy)

A/N. I would say have a lovely week but then I remembered that leaks are coming out so…<3

♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - 47 min.

“B-but, doll…” Toji’s groaning in that raggedly sweet tone, voice cracking ever-so-slightly when your plush walls gift him with another unabashed squeeze. Still unmoving. Torturous. “You’re actin’ like I can’t feel the way that needy pussy of yours is just cryin’ f’me.”

It hasn’t even been an hour, and oh god - Toji had absolutely no idea how he was going to make it out of this alive. No clue as to how he was going to break out of these extra heavy-duty handcuffs customized for him. To fuck up into your heavenly cunt the way you deserved.

The way he deserved.

“Sh-shut up.” you scoff, looking down at where you had him pinned down messily on the silken sheets. “Before I put a muzzle on you, too, after that stunt you pulled-”

“Anything.” he’s cutting you off. Syrupy mind just a bit too hazy with the feeling of his weepy tip kissing up against your g-spot and being able to do nothing about it. “Anything oh anything- muzzle me, tie me up- ngh fuckin’ call that loser coworker of yours and make me apologize for all I care. Just needa-”

Toji’s breath hitches when he squirms pathetically underneath you, biceps bulging when he pulls at those fuzzy pink restraints tied to the bedposts.

“Jus- want you to- fuckin’-” You’re squealing when you feel his thick, muscled thighs flex to plant his feet flat on the plush mattress, toned pelvis rippling. Body bowing up, up, up- “-move!”

It’s barely even a half-thrust, a grind - nothing in comparison to those long, thorough drags of Toji’s cock that you were used to. But the feeling of your every corner being stretched out so full after staying still for so long has you huffing and puffing in a way that has his swollen cock growing even girthier.

“It’s been ngh-” you reach blearily for the phone at your bedside table to look at the time. “-47 minutes! Y-you don’t get to act this way, y’know. Not after you were so rude to my coworker when meeting him earlier.” But it comes out more breathless than you intended.

Toji quirks a proud brow, cockiness seeping into his words now that he had you exactly where he wanted after so long. “No, I wasn’t.”

You’re babbling needily when your boyfriend’s reaching up to kiss at your bruised lips. Soft and licking at the seam of your petty complaints. “You told him to ‘fuck off’ right to his face, Toji! N’ after he was just being nice.”

“Just nice”, his ass. Toji saw the way he looked at you - and he didn’t like it, not one bit.

So in response, all you’re getting is another buck of his hips like such an animal. Once. Twice. Body curling up into yours to stuff your snug channel full. He’s waiting just until you keen and arch back for more before halting so agonizingly still, letting his painfully hard cock mold your plush walls.

You have to take a moment to collect yourself at the sensation of his prominent veins rubbing up against those hidden sweet spots only Toji could reach. To stop yourself from fucking back desperately.

“Dontcha think I’ve hah- already learned my lesson now, c’mon. Look-” Greedy eyes locking down at where you straddled him, your pretty pussy lips spread obscenely around his thick shaft. So so angry, covered in a mouthwateringly glossy sheen of your sweet sweet juices. “-bet she wants to be fucked like the slut she is.”

The force of his sharp pelvis has you tumbling face-first first into his chiseled pecs, just enough that Toji’s latching his bullying mouth onto one of your hardened nipples. Smug scar grazing against your sensitive areola, “Besides, is it really my fault?” Another ram, another crash against your ravaged g-spot, pumping in and out like he was addicted to the soft tug of your clingy walls back - now past just cockwarming. Way past. “Please, s’my right to be jealous, doll.” you watch his lewd smirk turn into something grittier. Something that definitely didn’t bode well for your poor cunt. Muffling out, “Sick bastards gotta know when to stay away from my woman.”

Before you’re opening your mouth to retort - or maybe threaten him with tying his legs up, too, so he’s left with only another 40 minutes of cockwarming - a sharp ring of your phone cuts through that heady, hypnotic air.

Toji only has to angle his head towards the flashing screen on the forgotten phone still dangling limply from your hand, and then his eyes are lighting up with such dangerous delight. “Answer it.”

“Wh-what?” you sputter. “Who is-”

Your coworker.

“Answer it.”

It’s the slow, sultry push and pull of Toji’s hips that have now got you in such a cockdrunk daze, a soft ah! ah! ah! leaving you with every rhythmic grind. He’s using the handcuffs as leverage to arch his hips off the bed, inching you closer and closer to puff out a feverishly sweet kiss onto your forehead. Whispering gently, “Answer it f’me, doll.”

And no sooner is the soft pad of your shaky thumb swiping across the screen, that tinny voice of your coworkers blaring through the speakers that-

“Hello?”

SNAP!

The handcuffs are hitting the hardwood floors before realization hits you - and in all of three seconds, Toji’s hulking frame is set free. Two rough palms sliding to your hips and just slamming you down the entire length of his throbbing cock. Burying so deep inside your heavenly cunt that you could feel the scratch of his public hair against your clit, Toi’s heavy balls twitching against your ass. And his voice - low and rumbling with need when he’s pulling your whole body weight up, up, up to kiss at his leaky, pink tip. And down. Again. And again and again and-

“Let’s show this fucker how sorry I really am, huh?”

♡ NANAMI KENTO - As long as you want, darling.

“Are you sure, my love?” Nanami whispers in your ear in a low, satiny purr. The hot water from that candlelit bubble bath he’d lit sloshing around just a bit when two large, rugged hands of his come down to massage your shoulders gently. “S’been a long day.”

And, really, it has. A long day of overly picky clients and an even pickier manager - a long day that your lovely husband was slowly crumbling away bit by bit. Chest rumbling behind yours, legs intertwined with yours in the water, thick cock stuffed deep in your cunt.

You’re slowly nudged back into reality when he’s planting a lazy, heated trail of open-mouthed kisses down your shoulder. “If you want to sit in silence we can do that, too, darling.”

“No, s’okay, Ken.” It’s all you can do to manage out a hazy shake of your head, looking up from where your back was pulled flushed against his hard, sculpted front. Grinding the curve of your ass back to drag against his abs, skin-on-skin. “Want you.”

Fuck, that has him twitching like a man starved inside you. And the stretch, oh - it made your toes curl in depravity, head spinning at just how much your gummy walls were being molded to the exact shape and size of him. Memorizing every little curve and pattern of lewd throbs along your pussy.

A low rumbling sound in the back of his throat, heavy balls so so ready and squeezing painfully at your obscene words.

“But- you know if I go rough on you-”

You kiss his sharp jaw, licking languidly along the long column of his milky throat. Drinking in his heady, masculine scent to murmur, “And I want you now.”

And, well, how could Nanami Kento ever deny his pretty lil’ wife?

Which is why, in all of three seconds, the man himself had you reaching across the bathtub on all fours. Knees weak and shaking like a newborn fawn where he held you up easily by your hips, swollen cock still angry and splitting your poor cunt apart from behind.

“Whatever my love wants-” you hear Nanami breathe out shakily, moving from the first time since he carried you inside the bathroom to reel every long fucking inch of his girthy cock out, out, out from your sloppy hole. And if you angled your head back just right you could catch that messy glisten of your slick down his shaft. All the way until his fat tip was smearing all over your glossy folds. Waiting. Greedy. “-she will get.”

And his words were so sincere - solid, thorough, just like the dizzying thrust he was gifting your poor cunt with. Stretching that first rim of muscle so wide, feeding your pussy every inch he could give.

“O-oh-” you moan brokenly, your thighs already shaky with the stimulation of having Nanami squeeze his fat shaft down in bullying thrusts just to fit his mean cock inside. “Oh my god, Ken s’already so much-”

“M’not even halfway in.” he’s hushing away your pretty cries with a line of kisses down your arched spine, finally settling to crash his lips against yours. Bare chest rippling with muscle, “You can take it. You’re my good girl, right? Gonna take my cock until you forget all about that hngh- bad day of yours?‘

It’s like clockwork the way you’re nodding so dazedly, not even sure what you even agreed to until Nanami’s pushing in proud, powerful rams of his hips. Tip so hefty, leaking so much precum down your cervix - down the corners of your sopping slit.

“You’re so big-” you whine, ass stinging with the harsh smacks into his front. Screwing your glassy eyes shut, “S’too much, ngh-”

“Hey hey, now.” your husband tuts against your ear, the damp metal of his ring cold when he swipes softly at your cheek - refusing, for even a moment, to take off that evidence of his pure devotion to you. “Keep those gorgeous eyes of yours open, my love. Just look-.”

Coaxing those cockdrunk eyes of yours open exactly the way he always did, Nanami only smiles when your kiss-bitten lips drop into a shocked oh!

Because fuck, it didn’t matter how many times you took him - Nanami was always so massive. So unapologetically obvious when he was inside you. Your puffy folds spread shamefully, that bulging divot of his fat head peeking out, showing you in real time exactly how harshly he was crashing against your g-spot. Bruising. Sloppy.

Over and over and-

“Takin’ me so hah- well.” You mewl at the never-ending gush of praises, every lingering thrust of Nanami’s hips increasing in pace. “Wish you could feel- how wet you are.” He’s sliding a palm down your water-slicked skin, cupping the mess made of your cunt. “-how tight. How-” Body convulsing when you feel Nanami’s wedding ring so chilly against the heated part of your clit. Being rubbed into it over and over when he’s rolling the pad of his thumb in slow, sleazy circles. “-perfect. How perfect you are f’me.”

“K-Ken-” you’re whining, and Nanami already knows what you’re about to say - of course, he does. Immediately pinning your two arms behind your back with one of his much bigger ones, holding you upright to fuck into your dripping cunt harsher. More calculated. “M’close- m’close m’so-”

“So cum f’me.” he hisses, letting your fingers dance up to tug and graze his undercut all you pleased. “Cum f’me like a good girl.”

You don’t even realize it when you do - too caught up with every crashing kiss against your bruised g-spot. Every spike of white-hot pleasure when Nanami’s massive cock massages your walls so right. Fucking you over and over through your high.

Until all you can do is scream out his name, until all you can do is kneel there and take it while he’s absolutely ravaging your cunt - no thoughts of whatever bad day at work on your mind now, only filled with Nanami and the need for more, more, more-

Until you’re turning to hum deviously, “Your turn.”

♡ GETO SUGURU - HOURS

Times like this, Geto Suguru loved to tease you, loved to push the limits and see exactly what would make that pretty lil’ mind of yours tick.

Times like now - when he had you laying so peacefully on top of him, your lolling head moving gently up and down with his heavy breathing, his legs dangling off the other end of the couch, eyes firmly trained on the shitty action movie playing on-screen.

It would be almost wholesome, if it wasn’t for-

“Sugu…”

Ah, there it was.

“Yes, gorgeous?” Geto tries to hold back that dark glint in his voice. A smirk curling the edges of his strained words when you clench your clingy walls around him as a sort of punishment, shifting desperately. “Don’t like the movie?”

You’re hissing out through firmly clenched teeth, tugging on his skin-tight shirt to get your beloved boyfriend’s attention - but, alas, it doesn’t work. “The movie’s not the problem-” And lo and behold, you’re fucking your trembly hips back so deep against where he’d buried himself inside you about half an hour ago. Ass shifting on top of his heavy balls, clit throbbing on top of those neat tufts of black, your familiar movements trying to get him to massage his fat, weepy veins against your sweet spots again. “-it’s your fuckin’-”

“Ah ah, language, my girl.” he’s whispering, still not sparing your cockdrunk self a glance. Despite the way his achy head nudges in desperation against the bullseye of your g-spot in a way he knows will have you keening. Leaky divot meeting your bundle of nerves making you go insane after cockwarming him for so long. “S’jus’ getting to the best part.”

Fuck, you didn’t care - didn’t even remember the name of the movie you two were watching at this point.

But what you did remember was the way this exact scenario played out last time - when Geto decided to really pull out and continue with the movie marathon as if nothing happened. Just the memory has your needy pussy twinging in annoyance, trying even harder to suck him up depravedly.

And yet, all you can manage out is a few grumbles about “getting him back soon” and forcing your eyes back on the screen. Only gives occasional nudges and grinds down to nestle him cozier against your plush walls.

And you succeed.

That is, almost.

Until it gets to that erotic scene. A hazy blinking up at Geto told you he already knew this would be in the movie, high cheekbones flushed, watching your every single reaction from the corner of his dark, dewy eyes.

You’re teetering precariously on top of him when his achy dick twitches even harder in interest. Your slick coming down in hot oozes that soak his entire bottom half. Glistening in the light of the tv and helping you slide your sloppy pussy across his fat length.

“Suguru…”

Full name? Damn, he was in some trouble.

But, like the absolute bully he is, Geto only lets out a low whistle. A large, soft palm coming down to knead at the fat of your ass, stretching and pulling to help you hump your pussy even deeper. “Some awful actin’, huh?” he grunts, eyes still locked on the movie. Hips stuttering up as if unconsciously - primally, “Bet we could do a whole lot better.”

But, two can play that game.

“We could.” you whine syrupy and pitched higher than normal with lust. “Such a hngh- shame, though, right?” And at his surprised look of confusion, you’re plowing on smugly, “Because you’re on a sex ban for the next month.”

The reaction is immediate - pained eyes snapping onto yours, his pretty pink lips dropping into a shocked oh! and Geto’s spouting out unabashed, “Awww, c’mon, gorgeous don’t be like that. Wasn’t serious, wasn’t—” Panic veiling his actions when you bluff moving to get off. Yet, he plays right into your hands, heavy fingers sitting you back down on his cock to meet in a shallow thrust, molding at your elastic walls. Claiming, “-as if I’d ever deny you, gorgeous.”

And you can’t get another word out before he’s steadily using all those hours at the gym to his advantage to bounce you along his lap in a steady fucking. Slamming right up to where your pussy lips smashed into his hip bone.

“You’re so weak, Sugu–”

Hell, so what if he was the one that broke first?

Oh, he can’t deny though, the way just how needy you were - how you were pouting up at him with those sultry, beautiful eyes of yours to “just fuck me right” - has him throbbing achingly inside your heavenly walls. Stretching out that gummy channel to its limits, until you could feel every ridge and curve along his massive length.

“Mhm, m’weak.” Geto rasps, arms tightening around your waist to hover your entire body up. “But- only for you- ngh, only for-” And he’s barely even stuttering his hypnotic cadence before spreading his legs firmer, moving his quick, bullying thrusts enlarging your filthy hole. Geto’s abs burning, thighs straining. “-you n’ this pretty cunt, y’know.” Like a - very overdue - little apology for toying with you so much, one of his deft hands dip down to roll and tweak your puffy clit between two slender fingers. Promising. Faster. Flashing a look in your eyes that told you he was about to make it so you couldn’t walk for a week, at least. “So you better not think of hah- something stupid like a sex ban.”

♡ CHOSO KAMO - 13 min.

Choso couldn’t tear his greedy gaze away, couldn’t stop aching for more and more of that delicious stretch of your gummy walls around him. Feeling so lecherous with every beat of silence spent devouring the pretty sight of you.

The way you were splayed out like such a slut for him on your once-fresh satin sheets, bent into such a mean mating press he didn’t think himself capable of. Laying your boneless body out in that obscene pool of cum and slick, only spreading farther and farther with each twitch of his poor, overstimulated balls.

“Ch-Cho!” your honeyed, broken gasp him blinking back those big fat tears of sensitivity. And fuck he swears he could feel that lewd slosh of his seed coating against your gummy walls in a sticky sheen. “Cho, why are you- ngh! Getting hard again? It’s only been about ten minutes-”

That has him looking down in surprise, ravaged raw lips falling into a fucked-out oh! at that sight of your puffy folds being spread further and further with the way all the blood in his body was rushing to his achy cock. Bulging. Slobbering down your slit to coat him all glistening and ready to slide in again.

“One more. Had enough of waitin’ around.” Choso rasps, words slurring out so quiet that you almost think you imagined it. “O-one more time, baby–”

He’s leaving no room for you to answer - for you to even think, to breathe before giving your sopping wet cunt an experimental thrust. Dewy eyes falling half-lidded and dangerous when he watches the way his cum gushes down your thighs in warm dredges at the simple gesture.

“I thought-” your nails rake down his toned back to leave red, angry lines of pleasure. “I thought you said we were jus’ gonna hah- cockwarm right now, Cho? To make sure it takes?”

And it was true, he wanted to make sure you don’t waste a drop of his seed, to have you painted white with him for as long as he possibly could - well, maybe partially out of your boyfriend’s own perverted desire. But, really, what’s the harm in a little self-indulgence?

“Please! Please I know I know, baby.” he’s pleading. Ignoring the ringing in his ears, the dizziness in his vision to kiss the glossy pout of your candied lips so soothingly - missing, a few times with how utterly wrecked you had him. “But you can hngh- take one more, right? Just one more, f’me? Please?”

One more - he’s whispering out that little manta over and over with each gifting, filthy crash against your g-spot. Fat tip so soaked with all the mess of your juices that it slides a thorough line right across your bruised cervix. That makes you keen, it makes you cry, it makes you just arch your back off the mattress to push you even deeper down Choso’s swollen cock.

You mewl when he’s licking a long, languid stripe up the sultry teartracks down your cheeks, “Yes, but- but Cho you should rest-”

As if that would stop him - not when every shred of his sanity is dancing away from him to the smooth staccato of his rolling hips.

Choso hisses when his bruised lips are crashing against yours, entire body jolting because the sheer stimulation after only this long since cumming is driving him insane. Too much.

You buck your hips wildly when he’s angling his toned pelvis just right to smack that divot on his thick head onto your already-raw sensitive spots. Convulsing uncontrollably to let out a few wispy globs of cum that fill you up from the bottom of your pussy - an orgasm you don’t think Choso even realizes. “F-fuck- did you just-”

The pool grows even wider.

“Yes- no.” he gasps, before immediately reeling his hips back and forth again like a man starved. “Maybe. But one more- just one more, baby. Please.” Your sloppy make out is now tinged with the salty taste of tears - both yours and his. Because with each slow, cautious drag of his cock marking your elastic walls, a fresh wave of sensitivity hits him. “Please- wanna cum. Need to cum. Please please please one more- please.”

He didn’t know who he was begging at this point - you or him. Holding such a vice-like grip on the easy curve of your hips to keep you from running away while he fucks you into the mattress for the nth time tonight.

“Fuck- fuck fuck fuck can feel you in so deep.” you murmur hazily, bringing a hand up to draw an invisible line around the middle of your stomach. “Can feel you right in here-”

“Oh yeah? That so?” he’s smirking uncharacteristically. “Soon ‘nough m’gonna have you hngh filled all the way up until-” He drags a thick, lazy index finger of his right up the sensitive bud of your clit. Up, up, up to wrap a large palm at your throat, “-here.”

And you can’t help but think he looks so pretty - so absolutely wrecked with his dark hair untied, sticking in stray strands to his forehead. Flushed to the absolute roots from the apples of his cheekbones, his droopy eyes. Biceps bulging out attractively when he squeezes around your racing pulse.

Somehow, you manage to choke out, “Do it then.”

That’s all it takes for your poor, absolutely ruined boyfriend to cum. Cumming and cumming so hard it was like he couldn’t stop - didn’t want to stop.

Greedy gaze falling shut so sensually when your gummy walls squeeze the soul out of him, drinking up every single rope after rope of his hot seed. Sticky, oozing globs that thin out into nothing but blanks - and he’s still fucking your heavenly cunt through his high.

Still in the throes of his orgasm when he whispers, “Baby- my baby, are we really sure it took?” Fingers squeezing tighter around your gasping throat, “Maybe we should try one more time.”

♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - Honestly? 1 hour 26 min.

“Hngh-” you’re hiccuping, the front of your drenched panties leaving a lewd smear of glossy slick all over Sukuna’s abs. Dragging out his name in such a honeyed, needy whine, “Sukuna—”

With a growl, he’s gripping a fistful of your ass, holding your squirming hips so flush against his toned pelvis that he could feel every minute quiver of your puffy pussy lips. Every new bead of your sweet sweet juices slobbering down his front and onto the sobbing cock stuffed still inside your gripping cunt, “What, woman?”

You’re gifting him with a pouty kiss, the kind he’d never admit makes his painfully tight balls squeeze in depravity, “Don’t hafta be so mean.”

“M’not.” he grumbles, and yet gifts the mound of your cunt with a sharp smack! of his large palm. Soothing over the burning brand, “S’jus’ that someone decided to- hngh-” Muscled pecs rumbling with the memory from just a few hours ago, “-make me miss my morning meeting by being such a slut, hm? Just crying to ‘feel, tha’s enough.’”

That work meeting was long done now, having finished about half an hour ago from what he could spy from that clock across your bedroom. Doesn’t matter, as CEO he could miss all the fucking meetings he wanted - having a softer spot for you than anyone, anything.

But that didn’t mean he’d stop teasing you - toying with you until you were begging for twice as long as that meeting was supposed to last.

“So, really-” his voice cuts through those needy little grinds of your hips. Mindless, slow - trying not to draw attention to yourself as you rocked yourself slowly up and down Sukuna’s fat hilt. Caught red-handed, it’s all you can do to squeal when he’s digging those long, black nails into your heated skin, holding you so agonizingly still. “-m’jus’ doing exactly what you asked, brat.”

The way you kick and wrangle your legs have him leering even wider, “What? Heh, got a problem with that?”

“Yes!” you’re keening, tightening your legs around his waist until you could feel the balls of your feet digging into the tiny dimples at the back of his spine. “Wan’ed you to ngh- fuck me- not- not-”

His tip is swiping across every inch of your sweet spot, pressing in so hard but doing nothing about it. Teasing you with such feral twitches against your tight channel, “You jus’ wanted me inside you n’ this cockwarming s’all you’re gonna get.”

“Please?”

This earns you another rough slap on your bulging pussy, the pads of Sukuna’s five fingers branding onto your stretched-out swollen folds. Lingering a bit too long around your neglected clit. Assessing.

And, suddenly, you know it means that smug façade of his is crumbling bit by bit - right along with his sanity. Gruffing out a ragged, “I said-”

And then you squeeze - oh, you’re clamping down your snug walls in such a way that has Sukuna cutting himself off with a throaty moan. The greedy gaze of his darkened red eyes flying open, head thrown back when his hips traitorously buck into you.

“Fuck- fuck, you little minx.” he spits into the soft kiss you’re planting on his lips. Glaring at you despite the way his weepy tip coats your cunt in an appreciative glossy sheen, “You think you’re sooo fuckin’ slick, huh? You think you hah- won this? M’still not movin’, woman.”

Batting your lashes up so deceivingly innocently, “I have no idea what you mean, Kuna–”

Shit, the syrupy sweet sound of that sinful nickname sends wracking shudders all down Sukuna’s hulking body. Biting his lower lip to hold back a raspy moan, “Don’t.”

You’re only pressing your bare chest against his even closer, draping yourself all over like a second skin. Blowing a feverish puff of hot air down his steadily reddening ears, “I have no-” Pressing a chaste peck right at his cheek, his forehead. “-idea-” On the edge of his pink locks - exactly where you knew he loved but would never ever tell you. “-what you mean-” Before finishing off with the final blow, to thumb open his angry mouth. Eyeing in amusement at how easily he’s letting his tongue loll out already - pussydrunk and all ready for you to spit a steady glob of saliva once. Twice. Wiping off those intentional splatters at the corner of those pretty pink lips, “-Kuna.”

“You’re gonna fuckin’ regret this.”

As if to prove his point, Sukuna is immediately pulling out - taking only a split second to flip you over to press your back against his broad chest. The bed creaks in protest as he sheaths himself inside your gooey cunt in one, harsh thrust.

All of it - making sure you swallow every thick inch by fucking inch of that same cock you’ve been begging for all morning. He doesn’t waste a second before spreading his knees to smack those sharp hip bones against yours again. Doesn’t even wait for you to adjust.

“You’re such a slut when you- hah- beg f’me, y’know that. Don’t know why you bother with that good girl act but-” Slap! For a moment, you wonder whether he smacked you - only to realize it’s the sheer power of his thrusts. Unforgiving, long drags in and out to fill you up in places you didn’t even know existed, bruising your flesh. “-at least I ngh- get to bring out the nasty bitch in you.”

Fucking you so relentles now. Your brain’s too fuzzy to even call him out on his little insult, managing out only choked up, “F-fuck you’re so- s’too good- Kuna.”

Those moans have him drunk, one set of thick fingers reeling you in by your pretty throat. So thankful he chose this position, because now he gets to fully let the ecstasy take over his face. Eyes rolling to the back of his head, face tinted a delicate pink, so fucking hot where he buries his face into the crook of your neck.

“J-just shut up and take it, brat.”

♡ GOJO SATORU - 2 min. (and 15 seconds!)

“F-fuck-” he breathes out unsteadily. Blue eyes falling shut as he throws his head back in pleasure, and his lips have that freshly-kissed look to them when he’s groaning. “Fuuuck, m’sorry m’sorry. You’re gonna be the hngh- fuckin’ death of me, sweetheart.”

Now, the great Gojo Satoru already had an inkling about this fact by the time you’d caught him rifling through that batch of chocolates you’d been saving up for a week. Brows furrowed, foot tapping in anger. Whoopsies.

And he already knew it’d be true when you’d shoved him down on the nearby couch and scolded him in that stern, sexy voice of yours that went straight to his aching dick. Toying with your glistening pussy while you straddled his toned lap, telling him to dare not move “or else.”

And fuck, he swear he saw the gates of heaven open up right then and there when you actually took him.

But shit, now, Gojo didn’t consider himself a weak man - far from it, actually, he was the strongest and he knew it. And yet he’s never felt so utterly fucking helpless with his throbbing cock enveloped deep in your cunt where he couldn’t see, freshly leaky, angry tip hitting down that familiar path to your g-spot. But staying there.

Unmoving.

So fucking agonizing that even you’re noticing the twitch of Gojo’s fingers on the plush of your hips, the way his jaw is clenching so tight. Raising an amused brow, “Toru?”

“Y-yes?” he yelps, voice a few octaves higher than normal. Jolting - and the movement is enough to cause a slight shift inside your dripping wet pussy. Tremors running down his spine at that sinful little taste of what he’s been craving so badly.

“Toru, you’re already such a mess.” you manage to giggle, purposefully grinding down in smooth gyrations that have his fat head drawing wet circles over and over around your sweet spots. “N’ I just put it in.”

“No!” Gojo’s whining hotly, big fat tears of sheer need pricking at his eyes. “No no no s’been more than long enough-” Gliding two large, pale hands to smooth over the globes of your ass, groping you to shove even more of his angry inches into your swallowing pussy. Ragged breaths coming out in gusts, “-please. Please.”

His words are breaking so sluttily at the end, Adam’s apple bobbing up and down his pale throat when he’s lifting his impatient hips off of the couch - once. Twice. Desperately searching for some friction.

“Satoru, if you can’t handle cockwarming for more than two minutes…”

“Please!” And he looks so pretty begging like this, gasping out wet pleas into your open mouth. “I’ve hah- l-learned my lesson, my girl. Don’t hold out on me now.” Powerful hips stuttering up like he was hesitant on pissing you off any more. “Said m’sorry- see?”

You whirling to look down at where Gojo was lolling his head down in such a pussydrunk way, only to be met with the lewd sight of your snug cunt being split apart by his massive cock. Glossy lips spread, bulging - struggling with the effort to accommodate his girthy, pulsing shaft. The stretch.

The sight is something that makes you squeeze your clingy walls to take the shape of him - so tight that Gojo swears he could feel his breath being cut off.

He hisses, words coming out so pained. Eyes half-lidded in wonderment at the way that tiny hole of yours gets stretched so obscenely around his thick hilt. “Ohh, fuck yeah. Thought you’d like that- yeah- yeah, just like that.” And you’re barely getting the chance to brace yourself before his hips are bucking up wildly. Like he was out of control - like he didn’t even know what he was doing right now. “S-sorry, said m’sorry. Fuck, m’sorry- sooo fuckin– sorry.”

Every breathy apology is punctuated by a heavy thrust, now fully forgetting that little punishment of his. IMean now. Pushing past that feeble resistance to fuck you all the way till you could feel that upwards curve of his dick branding against your cervix, your lungs. Over and over and-

“Hngh- ah, Toru!” you’re squealing when he dances a long hand down to rub over your pretty clit. Soft palms wet with a gloss of your slick with each tight circle. Again. And again and again and- “Y-you’re still not forgiven, y’know.”

It wasn’t very convincing - not when your greedy hips are limply bucking down to try and meet his rough cadence.

“I know.” he grits. “I know I know- fuck, I know.” Spitting straight into your sagging open mouth, he’s swiping at the lewd mess, “N’ I’ll buy ya more- buy ya the hngh- whole fuckin’ ch-chocolate store if you want.” Heavy balls smacking against your ass, pushing in powerful rams of his tip into your g-spot. Rambling drunkenly to himself now, “Just wanna- wanna-” Tears of sensitivity are streaming down his face now, as wet as the mess he was making of your poor pussy. And it takes only a few anticipated, purposeful thrusts before- “-cum.”

You barely have the time to even register those thick, hot globs f cum being stuffed into the very bottom of your pussy. Filling you up with Gojo’s sin when he’s throwing his head back to moan, hips bucking up, up, up to paint your deep core white.

“No no no no- no-” he’s babbling, still shooting up sticky streams of seed inside you. Fingers so erratic on your cunt now, Back arching up off the cushions to ram into you like some little ragdoll, from the very tip of his goading cock. “You have to cum- need you to cum, sweetheart.”

You’re just milking him, clinging onto him so tight it’s hard to crash his ruddied, sobbing tip even harder into your g-spot.

It’s almost like he’s forcing it out of you, wrenching out a hazy orgasm where you’re seeing stars behind your eyes. A loud whine of your boyfriend’s name leaving your swollen lips when he’s fucking you through peak after peak-

“Is this a good time to tell ya I ate those leftovers you were savin’ up, too, or do I hafta beg for forgiveness again?”

“...”

A/N. Listen, I know that Sukuna would be a TYRANT CEO but it’s for the aesthetic ok.

Plagiarism not authorized.

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lxnarphase · 10 months ago

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━━ ❝ ah-ah, barbie, you're so fine! ❞

special treatment : thighs edition

☾₊‧⁺...ft. : kamo choso + itadori yuuji + higuruma hiromi + ryomen sukuna

☾₊‧⁺...cw : pussy eating, facesitting, somnophilia, dirty talk, fingerfucking, overstimulation, praise kink, degradation, desperation, oral fixation, squirting, creampie, choso being whiny, yuuji being a little shit, yuuji is 21yrs & a college student, hiromi being pussydrunk, sukuna being whipped

✧ k. choso : poor choso, ever since the first time he's gotten a taste of what's between your thighs, he's begging you every day just to eat your cunt. but today? today must be a bad day, because choso is desperate. his already between your thighs, whimpering and whining as he mouths at you through your underwear, tears in his eyes as he begs you to give him a little taste. once you do, his eyes are rolling back just from the first lick.

"you taste so good, fuck, so good, thank you, thank you, mmph, so delicious, i can't get enough." "can you cum again? i know it's been 4 times already, but please? please, please, pleaase, pretty thing, i need itttt..." "oh my goddd, you're cumming? yes, yes, cum on my tongue, pretty please, i'll fuck you so good after, just keep cumming, don't hold back." "stop-stop running away, i know your pretty pussy is all sensitive b-but i just, i can't stop...but you know you can say the safeword and i'll stop, right? ...what? you-you like being overstimulated...? fuck, fuck, okay, let me make you squirt on my tongue then i'll fuck you good, okay?"

✧ i. yuuji : yuuji's always been a smug little shit whenever it came to teasing you. what starts off with him tickling you and blowing raspberries into your stomach turns nto hot kisses against your stomach that let down to the waistband of your underwear as he pushes your shirt up higher on your body. he can't help but grin up at you when he notices the wet spot on your panties from his little kisses.

"d'awww, bunny, y'so cute! look at how wet you are. is that 'cus of me? ehehe, i know, i know, teasing is mean, but i can't help it...you're just so adorable." "y'know i can practically feel your heartbeat whenever i kiss it? mhm, i can feel that, pretty girl. don't cover your face, baby, you're so cute!" "your thighs are so soft. i could stay between here forever, fuck goin' to classes or missions, i'd rather just eat you out until you pass out." "open up these legs a little more, let me get my fingers in there...thereeee we go, such a pretty lil' bun, aren't you?" "you're so messy! did i do this to you? yeah? aww, my pretty girl likes meee! i felt how you squeezed on my fingers! so cute!

✧ h. hiromi : ever since you made a comment about his nose, saying 'doja is right about big noses' in passing to him, hiromi has been curious. curious enough to the point where he looks it up, seeing the video of said woman. so, you wanted to sit on his face and grind on his nose, hm? you've never sat on his face before but he was sure to change that.

"i don't care if you think i'll die, i want you to sit on my face. i'm giving you the chance to either have control of your pace or let me do what i want with you. so, what's your decision?" "see? it's not that bad, angel, you forget your husband isn't some weakling...now c'mon on, get yourself right over my mouth, let me taste you." "god, you're so beautiful like this. i need you on my face more often, you're dripping all over my mouth...such a good girl for me." "heh...i knew you said my nose was perfect for sitting on but i didn't realize it would get you this riled up. go ahead, sweet thing, you can keep grinding that clit on it...just like that, just let me make you feel good." "good lord, i never wanna leave between your thighs. so fucking sweet, shit, angel, you've got me wrapped around that pretty finger. c'mon, let me devour you all night, i'll let you get up when i'm done."

✧ r. sukuna : getting sukuna to lay on his back without him instantly taking control of the situation was easier than you thought. hell, even crawling up higher so that you were hovering over his face was too. but little did you know, sukuna was intrigued, liking the side of you where you would just take control of him, knowing that only you had the right to do that...especially if it meant he got to eat you until you soaked his face.

"you know i should kill you for thinking you can just sit on my face like i'm some kind of personal chair. i am the king of curses, not a piece of furniture...what? ...hm. i guess you do look...good over me like this." "...huh? sorry, i wasn't listening. when are you going to sit on my face? you keep blabbering, but i can see the way that sticky cunt is dripping for me. are you gonna just let it go to waste?" "oh. shit. you've been holdin' out on me, haven't you, diamond? shit, i can see all of you from down here...nah, keep grinding on my face, little one, use me for your pleasure...let me see you cum on my mouth." "such a fucking slut. my mouth is coated in your cum, but you still wanna keep going? my tongue that good for you?" "no, no, i'm not letting you back down until you beg, diamond. tell me how badly you want me to fuck your pussy with my tongue...hm. good enough."

#choso smut #itadori smut #higuruma smut #sukuna smut #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #choso x reader #choso x you #itadori x you #itadori x reader #higuruma x you #higuruma x reader #sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #kamo choso smut #itadori yuji smut #higuruma hiromi smut #ryomen sukuna smut #˗ˏˋ ★ lxnarworks .ᐟ

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kenananamin · 1 year ago

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Tie my tie, marry me

Summary: The moment Nanami knew he never wanted to tie his tie by himself ever again and wanted to spend the rest of his life by your side. fluffy, nanami x fem!reader, nanami already loves everything you do but something about tying his tie was so intimate and special to him

It had been a year since Nanami officially asked you to be his girlfriend, but you had just started staying over during the weekdays. If either of you would stay at each other's houses, it would only be during the weekends when you both knew the next day could be dedicated to each other. Only recently had that unspoken rule changed.

You had both gone to the mall to shop for your new professional wardrobe and Nanami asked if he could buy a few extra things for you to keep at his house. You both knew what that implied and told him he could buy it, only if you could buy some stuff for him to keep at your house. You had both never been happier to spend more time and money at a crowded mall.

Nanami woke up a bit later for work than usual because of a power outage that turned off his alarm clock and did not charge his phone. You went into work after he did so you make his coffee and pack his lunch while he took a quick shower. You run into the bathroom to let him know he had less than 15 more minutes.

He steps out of the shower and grabs his razor to shave. You reach for the hairdryer he bought for you to keep at his house and start to dry his hair as he quickly shaves. You run out and start to rummage through his closet to set his clothes on the bed. Nanami finishes shaving and follows you out to get dressed.

"Shirt first, hurry," you take the shirt off the hanger and throw it to him.

Nanami begins to button the shirt when you get in front of him and start pulling his collar up and putting his tie around his neck. He looks at you with a questioning look and you quickly explain, "My dad taught me how to tie a tie. Never thought it'd come in handy since I never knew anyone who regularly wore a tie before you." You laugh at the memory but continue what you were doing to avoid making your boyfriend late.

Nanami however... his fingers stop buttoning his shirt. He looks at you, concentration and rush covering your features, but your fingers gently grazed his skin as you looped his tie. She's the first person to ever tie it for me, Nanami thinks. He had to learn how to do it from a video and was later corrected by some older male coworkers who showed him with their own ties.

The events of that morning finally dawn on him. You jumped out of bed right after you felt him jump out and started rushing around the apartment with him. He hadn't even mentioned that he was late, but you opened your eyes and knew what to do. He could smell the coffee from the room and heard the clanking of the leftover containers being opened and slid across counters from the shower. You dried his hair knowing that his route to work was not long enough to let it dry itself, and you took out exactly what he would have worn that day while he shaved. And now... there you stood before him, helping him tie his tie so his hands could do other things.

It seemed so... small. It was so small, so truly insignificant in the scale of life, something that could not hold weight in the world or change anything in the universe. But it changed his life, it was his favorite view in the world, and it would become his universe.

You look up at him and see him staring... and his hands not moving?! You move his hands away from the buttons and rush to finish buttoning it down. He takes your face in his hands and leans down to kiss you slowly. So very slow and soft. It stops you completely and you wrap your arms around his waist, relishing in the smell of his aftershave and body wash. Nanami deepens the kiss and moves an arm around your waist to pull you in closer. As much as you love when he pulls you in, the movement pulls you out of the kiss trance.

"Oh my god, Kento, hurry!! You're late, you're late!"

You step back and shove his pants into his arms. You tell him to hurry and that you'd grab his shoes to put by the door. You start yelling across the apartment that it would rain the entire afternoon and he needed to take the umbrella.

Nanami listens as you rustle through the closet looking for the umbrella and the light thud of what might have been his lunch bag and coffee thermal on the entryway table. He walks out the room putting on his suit jacket and sees you lightly jumping while telling him to hurry with his shoes.

Nanami leans down to tie his shoes but pauses after he's done. He goes to touch your bare leg since you hadn't even gotten dressed after waking up. You only wore his large shirt and underwear. He kneels and carefully lifts one leg to kiss your knee. He looks up from his kneeling position and says, "Thank you for helping. You really didn't have to."

His loving eyes close slightly while you lean down to give him one kiss as your response. "You're late," you whisper against his lips.

Nanami stands and takes his things while waving bye to you and your bed head. He heads out the door and begins a light jog to catch his regular train.

Yeap, she's the one, Nanami thinks.

Nanami spent his lunch break at the jewelry shop looking at rings that would look beautiful on your finger. There were so many engagement rings that would look gorgeous on you, but one caught his eye as he imagined that ring slightly moving on your finger as you tied his tie.

"I like that one. Do you have a size (your ring size) in stock?"

Nanami buys the ring at that moment and texts you to ask if he could come over to your house after work. He does not plan to propose on a regular Tuesday evening with no special plans, but he wants to hug you, smell your lovely perfume, take you some flowers, and give you a special thanks for helping him. And maybe, maaaayybe (most likely), stay over at your house to help him with his tie again the next morning.

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waitimcomingtoo · 4 months ago

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I’ll Cry If I Want To

Pairing: enemies to lovers!Peter Parker x Stark!Reader

Synopsis: you get stood up on your birthday and Peter attempts to cheer you up despite your feud

Masterlist

Peter walked into the kitchen in the tower and was immediately greeted by a confetti popper exploding in his face followed by a tender kiss on the forehead from Tony.

“Oh, my. Good morning to me.” Peter smiled at the greeting.

“Damn it, Parker.” Tony groaned. “I thought you were my little girl.”

“Don’t feel bad, daddy. A lot of people confuse Peter for a little girl.” You said as you walked into the kitchen behind Peter. The two of you made eye contact and you gave him an innocent smile while he rolled his eyes at you.

“Ha ha.“ He said sarcastically and then hissed at you like a cat. You gave him a look as you walked over to your dad.

“Happy birthday, baby girl.” Tony said and pulled you into a long hug.

“Thank you, daddy.” You smiled and hugged him back.

“Thank you, daddy.” Peter said in a high pitched voice to mock you. You and Tony looked at him and he quickly cleared his throat.

“Sorry. What I meant to say was, happy birthday. I didn’t know that was today. I mean, I’d been wondering why you looked so old but I assumed it was from your lack of sunscreen use.”

“Nice try. I wear sunscreen everyday.” You replied.

“Really?” He gasped. “Might want to up that SPF a few. You look like a crumbled piece of paper and not in a fun Taylor Swift way.”

“Don’t talk to me about skincare, Rudolf.” You snapped and tapped your nose twice to point out the zit on the tip of Peter nose. He covered it with his hand and narrowed his eyes at you.

“Children, please. No fighting. It stops my moisturizer from sinking in.” Tony sighed and rubbed circles into his skin.

“Sorry, daddy. I just wanted to make sure Peter knew about the giant pimple on his nose in case he was going to see anyone today.” You said as you smiled sweetly at Peter. He discreetly flipped you off by scratching his cheek with his middle finger.

“Any plans for the night, jelly bean?” Tony asked you.

“Nothing crazy. My friends are coming over later for a sleepover.”

“Oh God. Is this gonna be one of those crazy parties where you all get drunk and things get out of hand and you accidentally kill someone and have to dispose of the body together while hijixs ensues?” Peter. whined.

“No, because this isn’t one of the pornos you watch.” You scoffed.

“Pfft. That is not what I watch.” He insisted. “Where would I even find something like that? What would I even type? I’m open to suggestions.”

“Shut up.” You laughed. “You’re such a weirdo. And don’t be hanging around when my friends are here. I already told them you’re a pervert and on the FBI watch list so you don’t have a chance with any of them.”

“I don’t want to date your freakbob friends anyway.” He scoffed. “And to keep it down tonight, will you? I already wake up the birds chirping every morning. I don’t want to hear you birds all night too.”

“I actually came up with a solution for that. What if you killed yourself?” You asked through a smile.

“That’s a great idea. I might give that a whirl today if I’m not busy.” He replied and matched your smile.

“You? Busy?” You laughed. “Please. Busy doing what?”

“Peter and I are gonna be in the lab doing boring stuff with the suits. Adjustments, additions, and what have you.” Tony answered you.

“Oh. Okay. Do you need any help?” You asked.

“I wouldn’t ask you to do that on your birthday, baby girl. Peters got it.” Tony replied, making your smile falter a little.

“Yeah. I’ve got it.” Peter boasted and gave you a smug look. You glared at him for a moment before looking back at your dad.

“I’ll catch you later for some cake, okay honey bun?” Tony told you before kissing your forehead.

“Okay. Bye. Have fun.” You smiled sadly as he left the room.

“You look greasy, by the way.” Peter said once you were alone.

“Like I care what you think. Even your hairline won’t stay with you.” You scoffed and nodded towards his forehead.

“It’s not actually receding, is it?” He asked and touched his hair.

“Maybe your forehead is just getting bigger.” You shrugged and popped a grape in your mouth from the bowl on the table.

“Bite me.” He replied and stopped touching his hair.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” You chuckled. “Isn’t that how you got your powers, spider boy?”

“Yup. What do you think would happen if you bite me? Would I be able to a do anything a total bitch can?” He wondered, making you pelt a grape at him. He caught it with ease and popped it into his mouth.

“Watch your mouth before I bring out the peppermint essential oils again.” You warned him.

“You wouldn’t.” He said quietly.

“Try me.” You shrugged. You stared at each other across the kitchen for a moment before Peter gave up.

“You win. Here’s your card. Happy birthday, gaylord.” He said as he handed you a homemade birthday card from his jeans pocket before quickly running out of the room. You rolled your eyes at him but smiled once he was gone and read the card. As annoying as you normally found him, you appreciated that he remembered your birthday. Inside the card was a crude drawing of the two of you fighting next to a drawing of a gift card to Planet Fitness.

Peter strolled into your bedroom around 10 pm when he had grown curious as to why your friends weren’t there yet. It was getting kind of late and you had listed many activities that you had planned to do while Peter begrudgingly listened to you talk earlier in the day. You were still in your room by yourself so he went in and knocked on your door to see what was happening.

“Hey dingus. When are your dumb friends getting here? I need to know when I should jam my ears with scissors.” Peter said as he leaned against your doorway. You were sitting on your bed with your knees draw to your chest and your chin resting on top of them as you stared out the window.

“Do that anyway.” You mumbled and didn’t move from your position.

“I’m going to. I can’t listen to you all yap about when Reputation TV is coming all night. And your friend Stacy’s theories are always way off.” He continued. You still didn’t turn to look at him and his smirk dropped when he heard a sniffle. He frowned and took a step into your room.

“Hello? I knew you were dumb but did you forget how to turn your neck or something?” He said to try to make you laugh. You stayed still and he craned his neck to try to see your face.

“Seriously though, when are they coming?”

“They’re not coming.” You said finally in a horse voice.

“Why? What happened? Did they finally realize you’re an annoying brat whose only redeeming quality is access to daddy’s credit card?” Peter teased in another attempt to make you laugh.

“Something like that.” You mumbled. Peter frowned and finally realized that something was actually wrong. He sat down on your bed and reached his hand out.

“Whats going on? Are you okay?” He asked in a soft voice.

“Just go away.” You said sadly and wiped tears from your face. Peter shot a web at a tissue box on your dresser and pulled it over.

“I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what happened.” He said and handed you a tissue. You gave him a skeptical look and he held up one hand in defense while waving the tissue in the other like a white flag. You sighed and took the tissue before wiping your eyes.

“They found out it wasn’t a yacht party or at some fancy restaurant or some elitist club in Tribeca so they all cancelled.“ You said as you nervously ripped the tissue up in your hands.

“They cancelled? Why?”

“Because no one wants to come to my party. They want to come to a Stark Industries party with puppies in the gift bags and acrobats suspended from the ceiling and Avengers walking around like party clowns. Just hanging out with me wasn’t cool enough so they all bailed.” You sniffled and turned back to look out the window. Peter raised his hand to place it on your shoulder but then drew it back. He didn’t know if he was who you’d want to comfort you and he didn’t want to push it.

“I’m sorry.” He said instead.

“Like you care.” You laughed sadly and held your knees tighter to your chest.

“I do care.” He insisted. “And I’m very sorry this happened to you tonight.”

“No you’re not.” You scoffed. “You’re probably thrilled to see me like this. This is probably the greatest moment of your dumb life.”

“It’s not.” He said quietly. You finally whipped around to look at Peter and he saw the pain in your red eyes.

“It’s not? Look at me, Peter. I’m pathetic. I’m alone on my birthday because I wasn’t good enough for anyone to hang out with.” You exclaimed. Peter went quiet as you slowly caught your breath. You teased each other all the time but you’d never actually yelled at him before. You wiped your eyes with the tissue before staring at your hands.

“You were right.” You said quietly. “I am just a spoiled brat who people only like because of my connections. And I’m sure you’re anxiously waiting for me to shut up so you can say “I told you so” and prove to me once again that I’m always wrong.”

You and Peter sat in silence for a minute without looking at each other. Peter felt guilty that you were expecting him to kick you while you were down. You were feeling your own guilt for snapping at him when he was trying to be nice.

“I’m not gonna say that.” He said after a beat.

“It’s fine. I’m fine. Just go away.” You said miserably and turned back to the window. Peter opened his mouth to say something but shut it when he couldn’t find the words. He patted your shoulder twice before getting up and leaving your room. You turned to look at the door once he was gone and felt yourself missing his presence. You turned back to the window and stared out at the night sky through your teary eyes and let time pass.

After a while, you started to smell something. You sniffed the air until you recognized it as the scent of a something burning. Out of sheer curiosity, you wrapped a blanket around your shoulders and padded into the kitchen. You found Peter in the kitchen with a lace trimmed pink apron tied around his waist and flour smeared on his cheek. You smiled in surprise and leaned against the wall to watch him for a minute. He was humming to himself a song you didn’t recognize while scrapping a burnt black lump of something into the trash can. When he finally turned around, he jumped when he saw you.

“Jesus. You scared me. But I guess I should’ve known the smell of something baking would have your big back running to the kitchen like I hit the bat signal.”

“Shut up.” You chuckled. “What are you doing in here?”

“Well, your parents went to a movie since they thought your friends would be here. That means no ones home.” Peter began.

“And?” You asked.

“And so I thought we could fulfill a lifelong fantasy of mine and making sweet love to you on the kitchen counter.” He smiled suavely and raised his eyebrows at you.

“Excuse me?” Your jaw dropped as he drummed his fingertips on the counter.

“I’m joking. I’m clearly baking a bake. Or, I tried. I guess 500 degrees was too hot.” He said and looked at the burnt cake in the trash.

“Yeah, that’s a few hundred above what it should be. But why are you baking? We have a chef for that.”

“Because it’s your birthday you miserable bitch. And everyone deserves a cake baked with love. Now do you prefer chocolate or vanilla frosting on your burnt cake?” He asked and held up two cans of frosting. You looked between the two before your eyes settled on him. You hugged your blanket tighter around yourself and shook your head.

“I don’t want your pity.” You said quietly.

“You don’t have it so shut up and grab a spatula before I rescind your choice in the matter and funfetti the fuck out of this cake.” He replied and held out a spatula. You stared at it and felt compelled to take it and join him, but you were still throwing yourself a pity party.

“No.”

“No? Look, I’m trying to cheer your dumb ass up so can you please work with me here?” Peter sighed and looked at you. You stared at him for a while before cracking the slightest smile. He noticed the smile and knew he had succeeded in his plan to cheer you up.

“Fine. But I’m not eating that. That’s what Santa puts in the bad kids stockings. We’ll make a new one. But I’m not touching raw eggs.” You told him and grabbed your dad’s matching pink apron from the drawer.

“I wouldn’t expect you to, Princess.” Peter mumbled under his breath. You glared at him through your lashes as you threw some flour and sugar into a bowl. Peter went to put the butter in but you pushed his hand away.

“It can’t be cold butter or it won’t mix properly. It has to be room temperature.” You explained as you filled a measuring cup with water.

“Oh. Let’s pop it in the microwave then.”

“We can’t do that either. Then the hot butter will scramble the eggs. Do you want little egg bits in your cake?” You asked him as you microwaved the cup of water for a minute.

“Maybe just a little.” Peter replied as he watched you put the butter into a small bowl and then place the bowl on top of the microwaved water.

“There. This will soften the butter without making it hot enough to scramble the eggs.” You explained. He looked between your little invention and you for a minute before smiling.

“Wow. That was really smart.” He said genuinely. “Women really do belong in the kitchen.”

“Shut up.” You rolled your eyes as you set the temperature to the correct heat on the oven. Peter couldn’t help but watch you over his shoulder as you combined the rest of the dry ingredients and expertly cracked an egg in one hand. He rarely got to see you like this, no makeup and in lounge clothes. And he definitely never saw you upset before. He was used to the perfectly groomed and standoffish version of yourself so this change of pace brought him unexpected joy.

“Move over. That’s not how you mix batter. You need to fold it.” You told him and reminded him of the you he knew. You bumped him with your hip and put your hands over his to help him fold the batter.

“Like laundry?” He asked as his cheeks heated up.

“Like you know what laundry is, Pigpen. And no. A different folding. Like this.” You said and helped him mix the batter until it was the desired consistency.

“Oh wow. That worked really well. I usually just go sicko mode until it turns into goop.” He confessed.

“And how does that work out for you?” You asked him.

“Look in the trash and you’ll find out.” Peter replied and eyed the burnt cake in the garbage can. You playfully rolled your eyes at him and kept helping him fold the batter. Everytime he tried to stir the batter, you gently corrected his hands to fold it instead.

“Why don’t you just do it?” He asked when he started getting frustrated with himself.

“Because you won’t learn if I do it.” You replied in a softer tone. Peter went quiet since you were being unexpectedly nice to him. You let the batter sit for minute once you were satisfied and then poured in into a cake pan.

“There. Thats gonna take about 30 minutes to bake and then it needs to cool before we frost it.” You told him as you shut the oven door.

“Oh, so we have 30 minutes? Then circling back to that making love on the counter idea-“

“Shut it.” You warned him. Peter pretended to zipper his lips and throw away the key. You cracked a smile before starting to clean up the kitchen. Peter wordlessly helped you tidy up and you exchanged a soft smile with each other in the silence of the kitchen.

“What was your worst birthday?” You asked after a long beat of silence.

“Are you talking to me?” Peter asked after looking around.

“Peter, we’re the only ones in the room.”

“Sorry. It’s not like you’ve ever asked me a personal question before. It’s usually “are you stupid?” or “can you go away?” or “do you need a tampon cry baby?” He recalled, making you feel bad for always being so mean to him.

“Oh. Sorry about that.” You said quietly. “I sound a lot meaner than I thought I was.”

“I’m mean too.” Peter shrugged.

“You tease me.” You shook your head. “I’m just cruel.”

“I think we are an equal amount of mean to each other. Don’t let it keep you up at night. I’m sure your chronic yeast infections do that enough.” Peter tried to lighten the mood, but you didn’t crack a smile. You seemed faraway in thought and he was curious as to why.

“Do you think I’m hard to be around?” You asked after a minute. Peter was about to crack another joke until he saw the look on your face. He could tell you needed a friend right now and was filled with determination to be one.

“No. I think those girls you called your “friends” are hard to be around.” He said seriously. “I’ve seen you with them. They’re the mean ones. Them bailing tonight has nothing to do with you. They’re a bunch of shallow jerks who only care about the material things in life. They don’t care about having deep connections with people. They only care about deep pockets on people. I know this isn’t the first time they’ve ditched you. And I know you feel alone even when they are here because you’re never fully included. You think no one notices because you tell stories about your charming adventures together but I see it in your eyes. They make you feel like an afterthought. You act tough and pretend it doesn’t bother you but I know that it does. You shouldn’t hang out with them anymore.”

“Then who am I going to hang out with?” You shrugged sadly. “Without them, I don’t have any friends.”

“Sitting alone is better than sitting at a table where you’re the topic of conversation when you get up.” Peter said simply. You stared at him for a moment before your eyes fell to the floor.

“I just don’t want to be alone.” You said quietly. Peter nodded his head in understanding and let a silence fall between the two of for a while. He was going to say that you wouldn’t be alone because you’d have him, but he didn’t know if you wanted to hear that.

“Can I ask you something?” He asked.

“No.” You said immediately. You made eye contact and you let out a sigh.

“Okay. Go ahead.”

“Why don’t you like me?” He asked without looking into our eyes. You saw that coming and stared at him to try and get a sense of what was going on in his head. He slowly looked back up at you and gave you a weak smile.

“Do you remember that time the power went out in the city due to that Max guy or whatever and we all lit candles and hung out in the tower?”

“Uh oh.” Peter gulped. “You answered my question with another question. That can’t be good.”

“Shut up. Do you remember or not?” You asked and gently kicked his foot with your foot.

“I remember that.” He told you and held your gaze.

“You were new around here. You had just gotten your powers that year so I didn’t really know you yet. I had gone to look for more candles and found you crying on the floor of the linen closet.

“I remember that.” He nodded. “It was all so overwhelming to be here with the whole team. I had never felt so small.”

“I know. I told you I felt like that too sometimes. And then we stayed up for hours talking about every stupid thing we ever worried about and gave each other advice. I think at one point I gave you advice on how much conditioner to use.” You said as you replayed the night in your memory. You had a look on your face that Peter had never seen on you before. It was natural and relaxed and playful, all things he knew to be the opposite of you. It was so rare that the two of you were getting along and he didn’t want to do anything to ruin in.

“A dime sized amount and not on the roots. I still use that advice.” He chuckled. “You were so nice to me that night. You came in and pretended I wasn’t crying so that I wouldn’t be embarrassed. You just sat down with me and started talking ad if we’d always been friends. You quieted all my fears that night. I was initially so embarrassed about it but then I felt a lot better knowing someone had my back no matter how bad I messed up.”

“I always had your back.” You insisted. “Even when I was mean to you. If you were in trouble with my dad, I was always here talking him down and trying to get him to see your side. He sees you through the lense of his child that he doesn’t want hurt but I’ve always seen you as a hero who wants to help. I even got him to give you the suit back when you were 15. And it was my idea to put the warmers in because you told me you’re always cold.”

“Really? You were rooting for me this whole time?” He cracked a smile in surprise.

“Yeah.” You shrugged. “Always.”

“Then how come you act like…” Peter trailed off in fear of insulting you.

“Like what?” You asked, sounding like you already knew what was coming.

“Like you hate me.” He admitted. You felt your face burn in embarrassment and shook your head.

“I don’t hate you.” You said sheepishly.

“You don’t?” He asked in genuine surprise. You looked at him and he could see the guilt in your eyes even in the dim light of the kitchen.

“No. I don’t. I never did.”

“Then how come we don’t get along anymore?” He asked. He had only gone along with all the teasing since you began it, but he had always wondered why it started.

“One of the things we had talked about that night was how my one regret about being homeschooled was never getting to experience a prom. I told you had dreamed of it since I was a little girl and it broke my heart to know I’d never have one. So then you said…” You trailed off, thinking he’d remember what he told you. His face showed no sign of remembering it but he racked his brain anyway.

“I said what?” He asked, breaking your heart just a little more.

“You promised to take me. To yours.” You told him. You and Peter stood in silence for a moment before he burst out laughing. Your sadness immediately hardened into anger at the sound of him laughing at you.

“Wait, you’ve been pissy towards me for the last few years because I broke a promise I made at 15 years old and didn’t take you to a stupid school dance?” Peter asked through a laugh. You glared at him for his reaction and he immediately stopped when he noticed you weren’t laughing too.

“Oh. We’re not laughing?” He asked.

“Why is that funny to you?” You snapped. Peter saw the moment slipping away from him and started to panic.

“Well I was- I was a kid.” He said simply. “I had a huge crush on this girl Liz and we were finally becoming friends so I asked her and she said yes. That was years after I promised you that. I’m sorry but I didn’t remember.”

Peter thought you were going to yell at him and hurl a parade of insults his way, but you just nodded your head and looked down at the ground.

“You’re right. We were just kids. Forget I said anything.” You mumbled and started walking towards the door to leave. Peter knew he had messed up big time and possibly just killed any and all chances of the two of you becoming friends.

“Wait.” He said desperately just as the kitchen timer went off. You stopped walking and watched him haphazardly take the cake out of the oven and throw it in the stove top as he blew on it.

“You should stay. We have to frost it.” He said with a weak smile and an even weaker attempt for you for stay.

“You can’t frost it while it’s hot. It’ll slip right off.” You said without looking at him.

“Oh. I didn’t know that. Well then do you want to talk some more or-“

“I have to go.” You cut him off and swiftly left the kitchen.

You went back to your room to resume the pouting you had started earlier. You felt guilty about walking out on Peter but it had hurt you to know that a promise that had meant a lot to you didn’t even stay in his memory. You stared out the window and sulked as you thought yourself into a deep rut. It didn’t take long for Peter to start making noise in the kitchen, interrupting your thought spiral. You heard things falling out of cabinets followed by Peter swearing. He bumbled around for a while and slowly drove you crazy with all the noise he was making until you couldn’t take it anymore. Just when you were about to text him and tell him the knock it off, you heard the dulcet sounds of “The Dancing Queen” coming from downstairs. You groaned in frustration and got out of bed to go downstairs and see what was happening.

When you got to the living room, Peter was standing there in one of your dad’s suits that hugged him a little too tightly around his muscles. The room looked like it had been decorated by a child with poorly hung streamers, ripped up construction paper to act as confetti, and bunches of webs that Peter had tried to shape into stars and moons. He had dimmed the lights and put a single bowl of chips on the counter, which he proudly stood beside.

“What the hell is this?” You asked him.

“Will you go to prom with me?” He asked with a huge smile.

“No.” You said immediately. “Please kill yourself.”

“I will.” He promised. “After one dance.”

“I’m not dancing with you. I’m not doing any of this.” You told him and turned to leave. You heard a “pst” right before feeling a web hit your back. Before you knew it, Peter tugged on the web and sent you stumbling back into Peter’s arms. He caught you with ease and winked when you landed in his arms. You rolled your eyes at him but felt a smile tugged at your lips.

“Please? Just one dance? Then I’ll let you go and hate me for the rest of your life.” He pleaded as he stared into your eyes. He looked so desperate that you found yourself nodding before you knew what you were agreeing to. He smiled in excitement and twirled you around before slowly swaying to the beat. You begrudgingly sighed and wrapped your arms around his neck while his stayed in a respectable place on your hips. You could feel his eyes on you but you kept yours on the ceiling.

“You can look at me, you know.” He teased, making you begrudgingly look him in the eyes.

“Oh. I almost forgot.” He smiled and pulled something out of his pocket. You looked down and saw a few poorly drawn flowers webbed to a rubber band.

“Your corsage, my lady.” He said as he slipped it onto your wrist.

“This is so stupid.” You laughed but secretly loved the thought he put into everything.

“It’s about to get even more stupid. Wait here.” He asked and quickly ran into the kitchen. He returned with one of Morgan’s plastic tiaras with a big fake gem in the center.

“Every prom needs its queen.” He said as he placed the crown on your head. You made eye contact as he stepped forward to adjust it and you felt your breath catch in your throat from how close he was.

“You didn’t have to do this.” You said quietly.

“Yes I did. I owed you a prom experience. I’m sorry I didn’t take you the first time. And I’m sorry for laughing at you. You just caught me off guard. I have spent many nights thinking of all the things I could have done to make you hate me. I genuinely forgot about that promise. I had no idea this entire time that you hated me because of prom.” He said as the two of you started swaying to the music again. You felt a feeling rise up in your chest, a feeling you hadn’t felt for Peter in many years.

“It wasn’t just the prom.” You admitted before you could think about it.

“It wasn’t? What else did I do? Did I hotbox the elevator with you in it or something?” He asked. “I did that to Wanda once and now she’ll show up in my dreams sometimes and make me pee the bed.”

“That’s disgusting.” You said flatly. “But no. It wasn’t that.”

“Then what?” He wondered.

“It’s stupid. You’ll just laugh again.”

“No I won’t.” He assured you. “Probably. I’ll definitely try really hard not to.

“Come on. Please tell me.” He pleaded and gave your hip a gentle squeeze. “You have to tell me now or I’ll become so annoying so quickly. I’ll be worse than those people who try to describe SNL skits to you and keep explaining even when it’s clearly only funny if you’re watching it.”

“I can’t tell you. It’s dumb anyway. Forget I said anything.” You said and hoped he’d drop it.

“It can’t be that dumb if it stood between us all these years. What, did you have a crush on me or something?” He laughed through his question. You went quiet and Peters eyes went wide.

“Oh shit. Did you have a crush on me?” He asked in a soft voice. You looked down at the ground to avoid having to look him in the eyes now that you were caught.

“I don’t know.” You sighed. “You were my age and had these cool powers and muscles and unexpected sense of humor. I was homeschooled and had swiped to the end of Tinder. You were my only option.”

“Oh. I see. So you only liked me because I was the only choice?” He said through a laugh but it hurt him. You could sense in his voice that you had just hurt his feelings and for once, that wasn’t what you wanted.

“I mean, not the only choice.” You added. “Cap used to hang around a lot more and he’s not the worst looking. But he’s like 500 so I never really had a chance.”

“Why me, then?” He wondered. You finally looked in to his eyes and shrugged a little.

“Because you were kind.” You admitted. “You didn’t need to take on as much as what you did at such a young age but you refused to do the easy stuff. You used to drive my dad crazy with how for you begged for assignments. You were so determined to get out there and save people, it was almost obnoxious. You were never content getting back stolen bikes. You always wanted to protect people from the big things. Even when you were just a kid. I liked that about you. I still do.”

“Still?” He gulped. “Even now?”

Before you could respond, the slow music that was playing ended and “Munch” started to blast from Peter phone. He scrambled to change the song but the moment had already been ruined.

“Sorry about that. I don’t know who put that on my playlist.” He quickly lied.

“It was you.”

“It was me, yeah.” He admitted and hung his head in shame. You stopped dancing and slowly withdrew your arms from him, making his heart sink.

“This was really sweet. Thank you, Peter.” You said genuinely. “I should probably get to bed now. I just want this day to end.”

“But we haven’t frosted the cake yet. It’s still your birthday. You can’t go to bed without any cake.” He said in a desperate attempt to get you to stay.

“I don’t know. It’s late.”

“Come on. It’ll be fast. That’s one of my powers. Spider can frost cake really fast and so can I.” He said and rushed over to the cake. He held it up and gave you a lopsided smile, convincing you to stay.

“Fine. Let’s make it fast.” You agreed and walked over to him. He smiled at you joining him and got out the frosting. He handed you a spatula and you started to frost the cake.

“You don’t have to keep wearing that if you don’t want.” Peter chuckled and went to take your crown off. You quickly swatted his hand and adjusted your crown.

“Back off. It’s mine.” You said and stepped away from him. He chuckled again and you laughed too.

“I really do appreciate everything you did for me tonight. I hope I can make it up to you one day.” You told him.

“You can make it up to me right now if we clear off this counter top and-“

“No.” You cut him off.

“Worth a try.” He mumbled.

“Really, though. You cheered me up tonight and I didn’t think that was possible.”

“In a way, I’m glad your stupid friends cancelled on you. It gave us an opportunity to spend time together. And this was the least I could do for not taking you to my real prom. Which was total buns, by the way. I missed most of it because I was putting my dates dad in jail.”

“Well I’m glad that didn’t happen tonight.” You laughed softly.

“Me either. I wish I took you to the first one. We could have been friends this whole time if I had just remembered my promise.” He sighed.

“It’s fine. It was a long time ago. I’m done moping about it. I’m ready to eat this cake and be friends from now on.”

“I’m ready for that too.” He smiled at you. “Especially the part about us being friends. But also for this cake because it’s kinda giving me a boner from how good it smells.”

“It does smell really good. I can’t even blame your boner. But if that thing even looks at me you’re getting impromptu gender reassignment surgery with this spatula.”

“Ouch.” He chuckled and looked over at you. He didn’t stop looking at you until you felt his eyes on you.

“What?” You laughed shyly.

“I can’t believe you ever liked me. And that this whole time, I had no idea. I am so not cool enough for a girl like you to like.”

“Yeah, well. It wasn’t like I dropped any hints.”

“Maybe not. It just doesn’t feel real. I wouldn’t believe it even if you weren’t always mean to me. You reciprocating my feelings was not something I ever thought would happen.”

“Reciprocating? You liked me too?” You asked as your mouth went dry.

“Are you kidding? You’re my mentors insanely hot and totally off limits daughter. Of course I liked you. Not to mention you’re funny, smart, good with a screwdriver and the apparently my biggest supporter. Though you did it in secret. Make no mistake, birthday girl. I had the biggest crush on you for years. Even when you were being mean to me.”

“Oh. I didn’t know.” You said quietly. You had your back to him as you washed your hands but you could feel his eyes on you. You peaked over your shoulder and sure enough, Peter’s eyes were locked on you. You gulped and turned back around when you heard him walking over to you.

“You know, as mean as your insults were, they were always clever. And you always looked good saying them. How could I not fall for you?” He said as he came up behind you. He was close enough that you could smell his cologne, along with a scent that was just distinctly Peter, making your heart pound in your ears. You turned around and leaned against the counter as you looked into his eyes.

“Well how do you feel now?” You asked with unwavering eye contact.

“I feel like those feelings never left.” He admitted. You had never heard such confidence in his voice and it was just the thing to tip the scales back in his favor.

“Hm. Interesting.” You shrugged and turned back around. It was almost like you could hear the disappointment in the air once you had your back to him again. You decided not to torture him forever and give in to what you both wanted.

“Peter?” You asked and looked over your shoulder at him.

“Yeah?”

“Clear the countertop.”

Tag List 🏷️

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ahsokaismyqueen · 3 months ago

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Stay Stay Stay Pairing - Tyler Owens x Fem!Reader Summary - Until you met Tyler, you'd only had shitty boyfriends who would leave at the first sign of trouble or when you started to get too attached. Tyler Owens however is there to show you that he's in it for the long run, even when he finds out you're pregnant with his child. Word Count - 4.5k Warnings - Pregnant Reader, but this is just 4k words of pure fluff based on Taylor Swift's Stay Stay Stay ngl.

You woke up feeling miserable. You had barely gotten any sleep, staying up most of the night crying, and all you could think about was how stupid the fight you and Tyler had seemed now. You glanced over at the clock on your bedside table, and shot up when you realized how late it was. Tyler might have already gone, and now you wouldn’t get the chance to say how sorry you were. The fear of that gripping your chest had you rolling out of bed and out the door. What you saw in the hallway however, had you stopping in your tracks.

As soon as you shut the door behind you, Tyler jolted awake from his spot on the floor, rubbing his eyes. He was still in his clothes from last night, the button up and jeans, complete with cowboy boots. “You stayed out here all night?” You asked, emotion tight in your throat.

Tyler looked up at you, brushing his hair back from his face. “Of course I did. Didn’t know if you might need me or not after those nightmares you’ve been having.”

“But - but I threw something-”

“Your phone.” He informed you.

Heat rushed to your face in embarrassment. “-My phone at you.”

“I don’t know if I’d really say ‘at me’. If so, your aim was pretty off for someone who used to play baseball.” He said, and he started to move so he could stand up.

Before he could though, you bent down and scrambled into his lap, wrapping your arms and legs around him as the tears fell down your cheeks.

He let out a surprised grunt, but put his arms around you as well. “To be honest, not the greeting I was expecting this morning.” He said in a strained voice, probably because you were squeezing him so tight.

“I thought you left already, and I didn’t want you to leave mad at me, because if something happened to you out there. . .” You wondered if he could even understand you with the way your tears messed with your breathing, but you had to tell him. The thought of him leaving while the two of you were mad at each other made you feel sick.

“Hey,” Tyler started running a hand through your hair, the comfort of the motion easing into you. “I wasn’t about to leave without talking to you. I told them I’d catch up.” You closed your eyes as you felt his lips against the side of your head. “And you know I can’t leave without my good luck kiss.”

You pulled back so you could look at him when you said this. “I’m so sorry. I don’t know why I got so mad. I’ve just been all over the place lately, and I feel like I’m losing my mind. I’m mad one second, the next I’m sobbing, then I can’t keep my eyes open, and the next second I feel like I’m going to die if I’m not jumping your bones-”

Tyler reached up and brushed your tears away with his thumb. “That one’s my favorite.” He said with a smirk.

You leaned forward, resting your forehead against his. “I think I’m going crazy.”

“Baby, you chase tornados in your spare time. Pretty sure by most people’s standards you are crazy,” he said, putting some hair behind your ear.

You shook your head, and playfully smacked him in the chest. “I’m serious. I mean I know I get a little crazy around-” the thought hit you like a freight train. “Tyler, what’s today?”

His brow furrowed, his smirk turning into a frown. “Sunday . . .”

“No! I mean what day of the month?” Were the calculations you were doing in your head right? Had the time passed that quickly?

“It’s the 11th. Why?”

Oh god. You gripped his face in your hands. “Ty, I’m late.”

Tyler squinted at you. “Did you have somewhere to go . . . ?”

You shook your head, your eyes wide with panic. “No, Tyler. I’m late.” You grabbed one of his arms and put his hand on your stomach, giving him a significant look.

It was funny, how you could almost see the gears moving in his mind. It was like when he was trying to decide what storm to chase. You could tell the exact moments your words and actions landed. His eyes widened, and he glanced down at your stomach, then you. “You’re late . . . For that?”

You nodded, watching his face for his reaction. It was an accident of course. The two of you tried to be careful, but one night a couple of months ago after an insane chase . . . The adrenaline got the better of both of you. While you had known you could get pregnant, you thought the chances of it happening the one time you didn’t use protection couldn’t be that high. Well, the universe might be proving you wrong. You weren’t sure how you felt about the possibility, but you were damn sure terrified of what Tyler might be thinking.

You didn’t need to be.

A slow grin started to spread on his face, and within seconds you found yourself hoisted over his shoulder and into the air.

Letting out a little shriek, you grabbed a hold of his shirt. “Tyler! Put me down!”

“Can’t! Got to go buy a pregnancy test.” He said, giving you a smack on the ass that made you squeal again.

“We can’t! I’m not wearing pants!”

“You don’t need pants to take a pregnancy test!” He said.

A laugh left your lips at that, but then you smacked his back to get his attention. “Ty, what about the crew? They’re waiting on you. I can take the test, and call you-”

He put you down then, his hands holding your face and making you look at him. “If you think there is anything more important to me right now than this, you’re wrong.”

It almost embarrassed you that you had thought for even a second any different. “I might not be, you know? I could actually be losing my mind.”

Tyler shrugged. “Either way, there’s no place I’d rather be right now than here with you.” He said, sliding his hands down to grab your own, then leaned forward to give you one of the sweetest kisses you’ve ever had in your life, all gentle and tender, enough to almost bring tears back to your eyes. “Now, there’s my good luck kiss.” He said once he pulled away.

“And what do you need good luck for, huh Owens?” You asked, raising your eyebrows at him.

He smirked at you. “I’ll tell you later.”

And he did. In about five months after he shot fireworks up in a tornado to reveal you were having a boy, just like he wanted.

————————

“Ty! I can pick up potatoes. I’m barely showing.” You said, shaking your head at him as he dived in front of you to get the sack of potatoes before you could.

He put them in the grocery cart, leaning over it and crossing his arms. “See, I know that, but the gentleman in me won’t let the woman carrying my son do something as lowly as pick up potatoes.”

You rolled your eyes. It was sweet, but you knew it was also going to drive you crazy. “If you don’t let me do some things I might murder you in your sleep. I hope you know that.”

Tyler raised his eyebrows at you, pretending to look confused. “Then who would reach all the stuff on the top shelf?” He asked, his expression morphing into a smirk as you crossed your arms over your chest.

“I guess I’ll have to find another tall, handsome cowboy. Shouldn’t be too hard.” You teased, and then grabbed the cart, pushing it past him.

He stopped you, grabbing you around the waist, holding you back against his chest and pressing a kiss against your neck. “Unfortunately, you’ll find I’m very hard to replace.” He murmured against your skin.

You couldn’t help but laugh, elbowing him in the side. “All right cowboy, if you’re going to not let me pick anything up heavier than three pounds, go do me a favor and get the water. Lily said you guys are running low, and the weather conditions for the weekend look rough.”

Tyler pressed another kiss against your neck, and then let you go. “Whatever you say ma’am.”

You watched him walk away, a sight you always enjoyed in those jeans, then hurried up to get as many of your groceries as you could before Tyler came back to not let you do anything again.

“Well, look who it is.”

Oh god, you knew that voice. It was one you hadn’t heard in years now, and one you hoped never to hear again. You almost didn’t want to turn around so you could pretend it wasn’t there, but you knew this person wasn’t going to allow that to happen. It would hurt his ego too much. Turning around, you let out a sigh at the familiar face. “Hey, Charles.”

Your ex was a dick. In fact almost all of your exes were dicks. Until you started dating Tyler, you hadn’t known what it was like to date someone that put you above themselves. Charles was no different. In fact, he was one of the worst, and the way he was looking at you right now made you want to throw up. Or maybe that was the morning sickness . . .

“I’ve got to say,” he looked you up and down. “You’re looking good.”

Nope, it wasn't morning sickness. “Thanks.” You replied, moving your cart so you could go around him. Hopefully you could make a quick escape and pretend this whole interaction had never happened. “It was good seeing you.” Lies.

He grabbed the cart, stopping you in your tracks. “Wait a second. Don’t you think we should catch up some? I mean it’s been-”

“Five years.” You answered, your hands squeezing the handle of the cart.

He smirked. “You kept track?”

You wanted to smack that expression off his face, “to celebrate.”

The nice facade faded upon your words. “You know, I thought maybe you’d changed over the years, but it seems like you’re still a-”

“Got the waters!” You breathed a quick little sigh of relief as Tyler came to a stop beside you, carrying not one, but two packs of water. He placed them in the cart, flipped his baseball cap around backwards, and put his hand on the small of your back. “Who’s this?” Tyler asked with his charming grin.

You took a step closer to Tyler, not because you were scared of Charles, but because you liked the comfort of his presence. Something you never felt with the douche in front of you now. “You remember me telling you about Charles? This is him.”

To Charles, Tyler showed no response to the name, but you felt the hand on your back press a little harder against your skin. Tyler turned to look at you, and there was a little glimmer in his eyes when he spoke. “I don’t actually. Are you sure you’ve mentioned someone named Charles before?”

You had to bite back a smirk once you realized what he was up to. “Yeah, I think so.” You played along.

“Hmmm, I must not have thought it was that important. Anyway, Tyler Owens.” He held out his hand to Charles, and you watched Charles’s face with delight. Not only had Tyler made him feel unimportant, something you knew from experience he couldn’t stand, but Tyler was . . . a big man. At least a foot taller than Charles, and more muscles on him than this guy could ever hope to have. You didn’t however expect the look of disbelief that crossed his face.

“Tyler Owens? The tornado wrangler?” He asked, almost too shocked to shake his hand, but then he collected himself and reached for Tyler’s.

“The very same.” He said. “Though I’ve got to say, I think my favorite title is her future husband.” He said, nodding his head back to you.

Heat flushed straight to your face at the bold statement. Tyler and you hadn’t talked much about marriage. You had thought that might be the logical next step, but you also didn’t want to bring it up if it scared him away. With past boyfriends, including the one in front of you, it always had. You should’ve known by now though that Tyler was nothing like that. You leaned into him more now, smiling as his arm went around you and his hand rested on your stomach.

“Her future-” Charles looked dumbfounded, and you also didn’t miss the wince when Tyler shook his hand probably more roughly than necessary.

“Got to lock her down, you know? Plenty of other idiots have already let her go. I’m not going to make the same mistake.” Tyler replied, giving you a smile full of mischief.

You placed your hand on top of the one he had on your stomach. “Ty, I’m having your baby. I don’t think you have to worry about that.” You assured him, your smile widening as he kissed your cheek.

“You’re - you’re pregnant?”

You’d almost forgotten Charles was there with Tyler’s sudden proclamation, but his words pulled your attention back to him. Turning to the side, you let him see the slight curve to your stomach. “Yep. Four months to go before we meet our baby boy.”

As soon as you said the words, Tyler’s face lit up with genuine excitement like it always did. “I can’t wait.” He turned back to Charles, putting both of his arms around you protectively now. “How do you two know each other again?” Tyler asked, and once again you had to fight back a laugh.

“It doesn’t matter.” You said, looking back up at Tyler with a soft smile. “We need to be getting out of here anyway right babe?”

“Yes ma’am. Well, it was nice to meet you, Chuck.” Tyler said, stepping back from you so he could grab a hold of the cart with one hand, taking your hand in the other.

You couldn’t hold your laughter back anymore at that point, entwining your fingers together as you followed him to the register, leaving Charles standing dumbfounded in your wake.

________________

It was the thing you had been the most scared of happening. You had no one else to blame other than yourself though. You were the one who had insisted that Tyler go on the chase. It was supposed to be a large storm, and you reminded him that it was the last one he’d probably go on for a while since the season was ending, as was your pregnancy. You had faith that he would be careful, knowing that he wouldn’t risk anything that would endanger him from meeting his son.

What you hadn’t expected however, was your water to break three weeks early.

It was safe to say you were panicking when you called your sister to come get you, and by the time they wheeled you back to your room, you were close to a full blown meltdown. “I can’t do this without him.” You told her, holding your stomach as if that could keep him in, tears streaming down your face. “And he’s at least five hours away! What if I don’t have that long?!”

Your sister, who was more calm than you, grabbed your hand, giving it a squeeze. “He will make it, I’m sure. You’ve texted him right?”

You bit your lip, and when your sister gave you a look, you blurted. “I didn’t want to ruin his chase! I thought I’d wait to see if the doctor was even going to take me!”

“Oh my god.” She reached into your bag and grabbed your phone. You held out your hand for it, but she was already texting away. “There, done.”

“What did you say?”

But she didn’t answer, instead she waited about ten seconds and said, “he said he’s on his way.”

You nodded, watching as she put your phone back in your purse. God you hoped he was going to make it. The thought of doing this without him was terrifying. You were already scared enough that something was wrong because of how early he was. Having to have this baby without Tyler by your side, reassuring you the whole way, seemed impossible.

A few minutes later, while you were lost in your thoughts, the door to your room opened and a nurse walked in. “Hey, honey, how’re we doing?”

“She’s panicking.” Your sister replied for you.

You glared at her. “My boyfriend, he’s - he’s not going to be able to get here for a few hours, do you think I have that long?”

She gave you a sympathetic smile. “Well that’s according to him I’d say, because I speak from experience when I say babies don’t wait for no one.” She said.

Oh god, he wasn’t going to make it. You just knew it. He wasn’t going to make it in time, and you would have to try and do this without him, and you didn’t think that you could. You needed him. You needed him so badly it added to the pain you were already in, and the worst part was that it was your fault. If you hadn’t forced him to go on that chase -

“I’m here, I’m here!”

To your complete and utter shock, Tyler came sliding into your room, taking his cowboy hat off and hurrying to your side.

“Ty?” Was all you could think to say.

“Did I miss anything?” Tyler asked, taking your hand in his own and looking at your nurse.

“Dad, I assume?” The nurse said with a smile.

Tyler beamed at the use of the word. “About to be.”

“In that case, you haven’t missed a thing yet. We’re about to take some vitals and get this show on the road.” She informed him. “Glad you could make it.” She said, and left your room. Your sister, sensing the two of you needed some alone time, followed close behind.

Once they had both left, your thoughts caught up to your brain, and you squeezed Tyler’s hand. “Tyler Owens, I’ve never been more happy to see you in my entire life, but how the hell did you get here so fast?”

He gave you an affectionate smile, and reached up to wipe away the tears you didn’t even know you’d still been crying. “Yeah, so about that chase . . . I never went.”

“You - you what?”

He started stroking the back of your hand with his thumb. “You were less than a month away from having our son. I knew you’d blame yourself if I didn’t go, but I also knew if something happened while I was away . . . You’d blame yourself too. So I just . . . stayed at a hotel the past couple of nights.”

You couldn’t even be mad. He knew you too well, and the relief you felt that he was here to help you was too much to be upset. “I was so scared you were going to miss it.”

“Not for the largest tornado in the world baby.” Tyler said, bringing your hand up to his lips to kiss it. “You ready to do this?” He asked as they started wheeling in the equipment.

Not five minutes ago you were horrified. The effect of Tyler’s presence on your emotions was remarkable. With him by your side, you had no doubts that you could do this. You could have this baby. “Now that you’re here? Definitely.”

Tyler leaned forward to give you the last kiss the two of you would have before you were parents, the smile on his lips unmistakable.

————————

“He looks so much like you it’s like you birthed him.” You said with a tired laugh. It was god knows how many hours later, you had never been more tired in your life, and somehow you and Tyler had squeezed into your tiny hospital bed. You were leaning against his shoulder, eyes glued to the baby he held in his arms that was looking up at you both curiously.

“Not completely. I know that nose anywhere.” He said, gently tapping your son in the nose. Then, for the first time since his son had been placed in his arms, he looked at you, the unmistakable glint of tears in his eyes. “He’s perfect.”

You knew that you were already emotional. You were exhausted, overwhelmed and a million other things at once, but the way Tyler was looking at your son, then at you? Your whole body seemed to light up with warmth. It was love all over his face, pure, intense love, and you didn’t think you’d ever be able to forget what it looked like again. You felt too choked up to speak, so you slipped your arm through his to curl your hand around his bicep, and turned your head to kiss his shoulder.

A smile formed on your face as Tyler looked back at your son, that adoring expression not fading for a second. “This is the best day of my life so far.”

“So far?” You said curiously.

“Well, you haven’t agreed to marry me yet.” He replied, grinning over at you.

Your smile widened, giving his arm a little squeeze. “Ty, you haven’t asked.”

“I haven’t?” Tyler said, pretending to look confused. “It’s a great proposal. You’ll just have to wait and see.”

You rolled your eyes, but the thought of Tyler proposing to you made you feel giddy. “Does it involve fireworks in a tornado?” You teased.

He shook his head. “Nah, been there, done that. Boone would love it though.” Tyler shifted your son, who cuddled right against his chest. “By the way, the crew’s waiting outside with your sister.”

You sat further up, wincing when you moved too quickly. “Jeez Tyler, how long have they been out there?”

“Since they dropped me off.” He admitted.

“You mean none of them went on the chase either?” You said in shock.

Tyler shook his head again, “They said this was going to be better than any tornado.”

Your throat clogged with emotion again, and you really hoped this crying at the drop of a hat wasn’t going to last long. “Go get them! They deserve to see him!”

He reached up, brushing a tear away from your face. “Are you sure? I know how tired you are, and I can tell them to come back tomorrow.”

“I can sleep when they’re gone. Right now I want them to see what they gave up a chase for.” You said, holding out your arms for the baby.

Tyler leaned forward, giving you a kiss on your forehead and handing your son over as gently as if he was made of glass. You smiled as he snuggled right up to your chest, and knew that there was no better feeling in the world than this right here. When you looked up, Tyler was staring at the two of you as if he was trying to memorize this moment. “I love you.” He said finally.

You felt like you could float at that moment, so light and loved. “We love you too.” You told him, and the softest smile formed on his face. “Go,” you told him before you started crying again. “We’re not going anywhere.” You joked.

“You better not.” He played along, giving you a mock stern look, and then he went outside the door.

Not ten seconds later you heard a cheer from outside your door, and you couldn’t help but let out a chuckle at their enthusiasm. Of course, they were shushed by nurses, and then Tyler brought them all in.

You smiled at them as your sister, Lily, Boone, Dex and Dani’s eyes all went straight to the baby in your arms. Lily, Dani, your sister and Dex rushed forward to get a better look and started cooing over him, the biggest smiles on their faces while Boone hung back, eyes wide like he couldn’t believe the baby was a real thing.

“We got you guys something.” Dex said, holding up some familiar looking material as Tyler got back into the bed with you. He handed him the shirts, and Tyler unfolded them, letting out a laugh before showing them to you. It was similar to the normal shirts, but instead of Tyler’s face, it was a baby with a cowboy hat. That would have been hilarious enough, but instead of saying, “not my first tornadeo” it said, “this is my first babeo.”

“Oh my god, it’s so cheesy. I love it.” You said with a laugh yourself.

“We also got little man . . .” Dani held up a little onesie that said, “mini wrangler” on it with their tornado logo.

You grinned, looking down at the bundle of cuteness in your arms. “It’s perfect.” You said, turning your smile to them. “Thank you guys for bringing Ty by the way, and staying. I would have understood if you all went on the chase.”

“Are you crazy? We weren’t going to miss this.” Lily said, giving your son a little wave.

Your eyes went over to Boone though, still standing back a little ways. The man who had gone into tornados and helped shoot fireworks and rockets up into them was looking at the baby in your arms like it was a bomb. “Hey Boone, you want to hold him?” You asked.

“Oh, I don’t - I wouldn’t even know how-”

But Dani was already pushing him towards you. “It’s all right Boone, you got this.” You reassured him, sitting up a little more to hand him your son.

“Make sure you get the back of his head.” Tyler said, watching with the eyes of a hawk as you gently placed him in Boone’s arms.

“Woah.” Boone said, as he looked down at him.

Tyler wrapped his arm around your shoulder, and now that your arms were free, you curled into his side, resting your head on his chest and wrapping your arm around his stomach.

“T, man! He looks just like you!” Boone said, and you smiled at the excitement in his voice.

“Except for the nose.” Tyler said, and you found your eyes closing as Tyler pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

He was so comfortable, and you were so tired. You felt yourself starting to drift off as his thumb brushed up and down your shoulder. It was hard not to when you felt so safe and loved, surrounded by your family, your new baby and the love of your life.

Tyler could sense it, and he leaned down to whisper in your ear. “You want me to kick them out?”

You shook your head, tightening your grip on him. “They can stay.” You murmured, nuzzling into him. “Make sure Boone doesn’t get too excited and drop our baby.” You joked.

“Yes ma’am.” Tyler responded with a chuckle, pulling you closer. “You go ahead and rest. I'll be here when you wake up.”

“I know.” You mumbled sleepily with a soft smile. “You always stay.”

#tyler owens #tyler owens x reader #tyler owens x you #tyler owens imagine #twisters imagine

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