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bradshawsbaby · 7 months

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Love in the Air

Pairing: Rooster x Female Reader

Summary: You weren't expecting anything interesting or exciting to happen on your flight from Virginia to San Diego. But what happens when you decide to shoot your shot with the handsome stranger sitting in front of you on the plane?

Word Count: 12.5k

Author’s Note: Thank you so much to my dear friend, @ryebecca for giving me the idea for this one! I've been mulling it over in my brain for a while now, and the super adorable Netflix movie Love at First Sight gave me some much-needed inspiration to finally see it through to completion. This story exists outside of the Mr. & Mrs. Bradshaw Universe, which is sort of a first for me, so I hope you all enjoy!

Warnings: Travel anxiety, some very mild angst, discussions of parental death, brief language, lots of fluff.

If you had to rank your preferred modes of transportation, flying would probably be at the bottom of the list, beat only perhaps by public bus or bicycle. It seemed that no matter how hard you tried to make it as smooth and easy a journey as possible, your experiences at the airport always turned into one catastrophe after another.

Your flight this morning was supposed to take off at 9:30am, which meant that you had scheduled the start of your day to ensure that you would be at the airport no later than 7:15, accounting for traffic and long lines at check-in and security. That, of course, meant that you had to leave your best friend, Katie’s house in Fredericksburg at 5:45 on the dot in order to make the sixty-one mile trip to Charlottesville-Albemarle Airport, and that was being generous. If the two of you stopped for coffee—which Katie insisted was a must—that alone had the potential to derail your plans, which had you nervously fiddling with the bracelet you never took off, the one your dad had given you as a gift for your high school graduation.

“Relax,” Katie laughed, taking her eyes off the road for only a moment to reach out and squeeze your hands reassuringly, halting your anxious movements. “You’re going to get there with plenty of time to spare. There’s literally no one on earth who’s a more responsible flier than you. Have you ever even come close to missing a flight?”

“No,” you admitted sheepishly, taking a small sip of your hazelnut iced coffee. It did little to calm your nerves, but it was one of the best iced coffees you’d ever tasted.

“Of course you haven’t,” Katie smiled, her eyes back in front of her as she signaled to merge into another lane. “So just take a deep breath and enjoy all this gorgeous fall foliage. I’m going to get you there without incident, I promise.”

Katie knew better than pretty much anyone how much flying tended to stress you out. The two of you had been attached at the hip since the first day of kindergarten. Your friendship had survived all the ups and down of adolescence, boy drama, the separation of going to colleges hundreds of miles apart, heartache, loss, and so much more. She was truly the sister you never had, and you couldn’t be more grateful to have her in your life. Even now that you were living in San Diego, and Katie and her husband had moved to Fredericksburg, Virginia for Josh’s job, nothing could keep the two of you apart.

Using a little bit of the vacation time you’d accumulated at work, you’d taken a long weekend to fly out and surprise Katie for her and Josh’s housewarming party. It had been months since you had seen your best friend in person, and the two of you had spent the past few days acting like a couple of high schoolers, staying up all night eating junk food and keeping poor Josh awake with your loud and hysterical fits of laughter.

You hadn’t realized just how lonely you’d been, all by yourself in San Diego, until you’d witnessed up close how cozy and happy Katie’s life in Virginia was.

It wasn’t that you were jealous of Katie, not by any means. She and Josh had met in college, and you were thrilled that your best friend in the whole world had found her person, the one who was going to be there to hold her hand through life and love her through every up and every down. You had even shed a few happy tears when Katie had confided in you this past weekend that she and Josh were finally trying for a baby.

You weren’t jealous, but you desperately longed for what she had. While Katie and Josh had been happily in love since sophomore year, your love life had been decidedly marked by one failed relationship after another. The most painful of which had been your last boyfriend, Andrew. That breakup had been what had propelled you to accept the job offer that had taken you to San Diego almost a year ago.

“Screw Andrew!” Katie had told you as she’d helped you pack up your entire life into a few suitcases and boxes. “You’re headed to the Hottie Capital of America!”

“I must have missed that moniker on the travel brochures,” you responded dryly, although it was the first time you’d felt the urge to laugh in weeks.

“Um, hello, missy. It’s literally called ‘Fightertown USA,’” Katie said, stopping what she was doing to turn and face you, hands on her hips. “You’re going to end up with some sexy fighter pilot, and I am literally going to wither away with envy,” she giggled, winking at you.

“Yeah, right,” you smiled despite yourself, nudging her playfully.

“It’s true,” Katie sighed, feigning dramatics as she draped a hand across her forehead and swooned onto your bed. “I can see it now. You’re going to make the cutest little Marine or Navy wife.”

And yet, for all of Katie’s confidence, there you were, a whole year later, just as single as you had been when you’d first arrived in Fightertown.

It wasn’t to say you were completely on your own. You’d made some really good friends at work, and you got along with all of your neighbors. You’d even gone on a few dates with some guys from North Island. But none that ever went anywhere.

Spending the weekend with Katie and Josh, being reminded of just how in love the two of them were, made you wonder if it was ever going to be your turn.

“You okay?” Katie asked, breaking your silent reverie as she took the exit leading towards the airport in Charlottesville. It wasn’t necessarily the closest airport, but it was the only one for today that offered the flight you needed to get back home. “You seem so quiet.”

“Hm? Oh, yeah,” you nodded distractedly, smiling as you took another sip of your iced coffee. “Just a little tired, I guess.”

How could you possibly tell your best friend that seeing her happiness caused an ache inside your chest that hurt like nothing else you’d ever known? You couldn’t. It made you feel guilty enough just to admit it to yourself.

“Feeling a little nervous about your flight?” she pressed, reaching for her own iced coffee as the car came to a halt at a red light. “I know it’s long, and you hate connecting flights, but I stuck some Benadryl packets in your bag, if that helps at all. It sucks that you have such a hard time sleeping on planes.”

Smiling, you leaned over and pressed an affectionate kiss to her cheek. What had you ever done to deserve such a good friend? And there you were, lamenting about all the things she had that you didn’t.

“You’re the best,” you told her sincerely, giving her shoulder a small squeeze. “I’m so glad I was able to get down here this weekend.”

Katie beamed brightly, reaching up to squeeze your hand before placing hers back on the steering wheel. “You’re telling me. It was the best surprise ever. I’m just sad I can’t keep you here longer.”

“I’ll be back soon,” you promised, trying to mentally calculate when you might be able to get time off from work again.

“Maybe you can come down for Christmas this year?” Katie suggested hopefully, glancing over at you with her big green eyes.

“Maybe,” you nodded, twisting your bracelet once more as you saw the signs for the airport approaching. “Or maybe I can fly you and Josh out to San Diego.”

“Oh, yes! Christmas on the beach? Sounds perfect,” Katie grinned, looking out for the sign for departing flights.

All too soon, Katie was pulling up in front of the Delta terminal where your flight would be taking off in just a few hours.

“See? Only 7:11! I got you here ahead of your insane schedule, even with the stop for coffee,” your best friend teased, a twinkle in her eye as she indicated the time on the dashboard.

“Yeah, yeah,” you waved her off, laughing out loud as she swatted your hand jokingly.

The two of you climbed out of the car to grab your luggage from the trunk. You’d done your best to pack lightly, which was never an easy task for you, even just for a weekend trip. But somehow, you’d managed to squeeze everything you needed into a carry-on bag. Well, that and a giant duffel that you were claiming was a purse.

“Ugh, goodbyes make me crazy,” Katie shook her head, clearly trying to hide the tears that were brimming in her eyes, which caused tears to spring to your eyes as the two of you reached for each other.

“I love you so much,” you told her, squeezing her tightly as she rocked you back and forth in her arms. “I’ll call you when I land.”

“Text me when you get to your gate,” she said, pulling back and taking your hands in hers. “And let me know if there are any cuties on your flight,” she added with a grin, waggling her eyebrows suggestively.

“I doubt I’m going to bag any cuties looking like this,” you countered sarcastically, indicating the yoga pants and oversized sweatshirt you’d donned that morning, as well as the messy bun you’d thrown your hair into.

“Shut up, you’re gorgeous no matter what,” Katie scolded you, swatting you on the butt. “Now get going. We wouldn’t want you being late or anything like that,” she joked.

You laughed as well, though your heart ached a bit as you grabbed the handle of your suitcase and began turning towards the doors of the terminal.

“Love you! Talk to you soon!” Katie called out, waving and blowing kisses.

You threw one more wave your best friend’s way, then disappeared inside the terminal, which was already fairly crowded despite the early hour.

As expected, despite the fact that you’d taken pains to get there early and make sure you were on top of everything, the unlucky cloud that seemed to follow you whenever you flew made its appearance once again.

You of course ended up on the slowest moving line at security, only to be heavily questioned by the TSA agent who seemed to be under the impression that you looked nothing like the photo on your driver’s license. Then, when you finally got to the security scanners, you set off the metal detector and had to be publicly groped by another sour-faced TSA agent. As if that wasn’t bad enough, your suitcase was “randomly selected” for extra testing and security checks.

Katie may have loved to tease you about it, but this was precisely the reason why you always left as early as you did to get to the airport.

By the time you were finally rolling your suitcase towards your gate, you were feeling more frazzled than ever. Naturally, the gate had changed since your boarding pass had been printed, and now you had to trek halfway across the airport to find the new one.

You wondered what it felt like to be one of those lucky travelers whose gate was right at the center of the terminal, right near all the restaurants and shops. It had never been you. Without fail, no matter where or when you were flying, your gate always ended up being at the farthest corner of the terminal.

When you finally arrived, triple checking that the gate number matched your flight information, you let out a heavy sigh as you grabbed an open seat at the end of the row. To your surprise, you found that you were seated right next to an open outlet. You never got that lucky.

Turns out, you really did never get that lucky. When you plugged your phone in, you found that it wasn’t charging. Evidently, the outlet was open because it didn’t actually work.

Muttering under your breath, you unplugged your charger and threw it back into your duffel bag. At least your phone was still on 74%. You’d much prefer to have it fully charged, but this would do until you could charge it on the plane.

Glancing down, you realized that you had missed a text from Katie.

At the gate yet???

Rolling your shoulders back and getting more comfortable in your seat, you opened up the message so that you could send a quick response.

Just got here. You’d think I was on the No Fly List with how long it took me to get here.

Katie must have made good time getting home, because it wasn’t long before your phone was buzzing with another text.

😂😂😂 Get yourself a drink!

Katie, it’s not even 9am…

So? A mimosa then!

You laughed, shaking your head. A mimosa didn’t actually sound like such a bad idea right now. Neither did a large iced coffee. But now that you’d finally made it to your gate, you didn’t feel like dragging all your stuff with you across the terminal once again. And you didn’t feel comfortable leaving your things behind, unattended or even in the care of a stranger. Maybe you’d just order one on the plane.

When your phone buzzed again in your lap, you looked down and saw that it was another text from Katie.

Any cuties to share that mimosa with???

You were about to text her back that right now, the only cuties you could see were an adorable four-year-old and an elderly couple who must have been in their eighties when suddenly, the most gorgeous man you had ever seen in your life appeared, as if out of thin air. You were suddenly glad you didn’t have a mimosa or an iced coffee in hand, for you were certain that you would have spit it out in shock upon seeing this guy.

Jaw hanging open and eyes widening, your brain was too fuzzy from lack of sleep to remind you that it was wholly inappropriate and rude to stare.

He truly had to be the hottest man you had ever seen up close in real life. Tall, with broad, thick shoulders and a muscular build. His hair was a golden brown that looked like it was touched frequently by the sun—as did his skin, which was an amusing combination of both tan and pink, as though he should have applied just a pinch more sunscreen than he had. Most surprising of all was the mustache that made your stomach do a strange little flip. You usually weren’t all that attracted to facial hair of any sort, and most guys couldn’t pull off the mustaches they tried to sport, but this particular mustache was the sexiest thing you had ever seen. And somehow, despite not knowing this man from a hole in the wall, you couldn’t imagine him without it. It was like it was a part of his DNA.

Thankfully, he was still staring down at his boarding pass, so he hadn’t noticed your intense scrutiny. Coming to your senses, you closed your mouth and quickly averted your gaze, your cheeks growing hot with embarrassment. How mortifying. Imagine if he had looked over and caught you staring at him, gaping like a fish out of water?

Still, despite your self-consciousness at the thought of getting caught, you couldn’t help but steal another glance in his direction, this time out of the corner of your eye. He looked even taller this time around. It probably had something to do with the way he carried himself, an easy confidence pouring off him. This man knew he was hot stuff, of that you were sure. But there was also something unassuming about him, something quiet and almost humble. He was dressed in a pair of dark sweatpants and an old UVA T-shirt, nothing fancy or flashy. Somehow, however, he managed to pull it off even better than a three-piece suit.

You were startled out of your observations when your phone buzzed again. It was Katie, emphasizing her last message impatiently.

Do you have some kind of magic powers that I was unaware of to make hotties appear out of nowhere? Right when you texted me, the hottest guy I’ve ever seen walked up to my gate.

‼️‼️ GO TALK TO HIM!!! ‼️‼️

At the mere suggestion of going to talk to that guy, your stomach erupted into butterflies. Looking up once again, you saw that he had evidently confirmed he was at the right gate, and had settled down in a seat a couple rows over, facing away from you. God, even the back of his head was handsome.

Are you crazy? This guy is seriously the most gorgeous man I’ve ever seen. I look like a homeless lady that wandered in off the street. I am NOT talking to him!

Your phone buzzed angrily a moment later.

Will you shut up before I drive back there to hit you upside the head?! YOU are gorgeous!!! Who cares if you have no make-up on and your hair’s in a messy bun? It’s called airplane chic! You’re still completely stunning. He would be LUCKY to have a girl as hot as you want to talk to him!

Chewing your bottom lip, you looked up again, trying not to be obvious as your eyes slowly wandered over the people at your gate, until they landed on him once more. He was on the phone this time, having an animated conversation with whoever was on the other end of the line. Occasionally, he would turn slightly in your direction and you could catch a glimpse of his side profile.

Damn, this man was seriously perfect from every angle.

“Alright, Mav, I’ll see you when I land,” you heard him say—not that you were trying to eavesdrop—before he hung up the phone and dropped it back onto his lap.

It was then that you noticed his phone was plugged into the outlet next to his seat.

Maybe this could be your opportunity? You could casually walk over and see if there were any other open outlets near his. Perhaps you could even make a joke about how it was just your luck that the outlet near your seat wasn’t working. Maybe he’d laugh and tell you some horror story from his travel experiences and the two of you would end up talking until you exchanged numbers. Maybe there was some tiny, infinitesimal chance that this stunning man would actually be charmed by you and possibly even the teensiest bit interested.

Or maybe you would just remain rooted to your seat, terrified to move as you stared at the back of his head.

You were already anticipating the text from Katie when your phone buzzed once again.

The reason you’re not answering me better be because you’re in the middle of a conversation with Mr. Hottie from your gate!!!

Biting down on your lip, you turned your phone over, not knowing how to tell your best friend that you were too much of a chicken to get out of your seat and approach this guy.

At that moment, however, you were suddenly saved, at least somewhat, when a member of the flight crew announced that they were about to begin boarding. Forgetting about Katie’s texts and the hot guy sitting several feet away from you for a moment, you began gathering together all your belongings, making sure you hadn’t forgotten anything.

When your boarding group was called, you did one final sweep around your seat, securing the strap of your duffel bag up on your shoulder and wrapping one hand around the handle of your carry-on before making your way to the line extending from the counter.

As you stepped up behind the elderly couple you’d noticed earlier, your boarding pass slipped out of your hand, floating through the air despite your best attempt to reach for it, and landing somewhere behind you.

Turning to find it, you nearly collided with the tall wall of man behind you, who was bending at the same time to grab it off the floor.

“Oh!” you gasped, startled to find that Mr. Hottie, as Katie had dubbed him, was not only standing behind you in line, but was also holding your boarding pass in his hand, glancing down at it.

“San Diego with a layover in Atlanta, huh?” he grinned, glancing from the boarding pass up to your face. Unsurprisingly, he had a beautiful set of whiskey-colored eyes that made your stomach do the same strange little flip that his mustache had induced. Oh, and up close, the mustache was even sexier.

“Oh, um, yeah,” you nodded dumbly, your tongue suddenly feeling like it weighed a thousand pounds as your brain short-circuited and couldn’t come up with a single worthwhile thing to say.

“Glad to know I’m not the only one,” Mr. Hottie went on, holding your boarding pass out to you. “Looks like we’ve got a long day of flying ahead of us.”

Mouth hanging open, you slowly reached out and took the boarding pass from him, trying frantically to think of something—anything—to say. He was flying to San Diego, too? You were on the same exact flight? Including the same layover?

“I—I—”

“Hey, the line's moving!” someone from the back called out, sounding annoyed.

Turning back over your shoulder, you were mortified to see that the elderly couple in front of you had disappeared and you were, in fact, holding up the line.

“Oh, um, I’m sorry,” you mumbled, ducking your head as you clutched your boarding pass and reached out for your carry-on. “Thanks again for grabbing this for me,” you told Mr. Hottie, waving your boarding pass slightly before turning and practically running towards the counter.

With his long stride, he caught up to you in no time, his smile friendly and warm as the two of you joined the line of people waiting to board the airplane.

“You weren’t holding anyone up,” he whispered down to you, as if it was some special secret the two of you were sharing. “I don’t know what that guy was in such a rush for. To move from that line to this one? We’re all getting out of here at the same time.”

You smiled at his words, feeling comforted by his reassurance. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. Some people are just always in a hurry.”

The two of you were quiet after that, and you wondered if that would be the end of the conversation. You were casting around for anything else you could talk about when he suddenly asked you, “So are you leaving home or heading home?”

Your heart fluttered at his question. If he didn’t want to keep talking, he wouldn’t have asked that, right?

“Heading home,” you told him, fiddling shyly with your bracelet. You laughed softly. “It’s still kind of weird saying that. I’ve only been in San Diego for about eleven months.”

He raised his eyebrow, one corner of his mouth turning up in a smile. “Yeah? Well, I know I’m a little late, but welcome to Fightertown. I hope it’s been treating you well.”

“Oh, it has been,” you nodded, making sure to pay attention to when the people in front of you began moving forward. “I take it you’re heading home then, too?”

“I am,” he grinned, shouldering the backpack he was carrying with him. “Well, actually, I’m kind of leaving home and heading home,” he amended. At your curious look, he explained, “I’m from Virginia originally, but I live in San Diego now. I guess you could say I’m a transplant, just like you,” he added with a chuckle. “Are you from Virginia, too?”

“New York, actually,” you told him, as the two of you followed the flow of people towards the plane. “But my best friend and her husband moved to Fredericksburg recently, so I was spending the weekend with them.”

“Ah, that’s a nice area,” he nodded, rubbing the back of his neck as he glanced down at you with a smile. At your unspoken question, he said, “I was actually down for a reunion weekend at my school. I went to UVA.”

“I gathered,” you replied teasingly, indicating his T-shirt.

Glancing downward, he shook his head and laughed. “Almost forgot I threw this on when I woke up. Trying to get to the airport on time is a real pain, isn’t it?”

“Absolutely,” you agreed with a laugh, adjusting your hold on your duffel bag. “Flying is definitely one of my least favorite modes of transportation.”

“Hmm, I don’t know if I’d say that,” he said in reply, an amused look on his face.

Before you could ask him what was so funny, however, you were being welcomed aboard the plane by the stewardesses, who were all smiling and indicating that they expected you to keep moving down the aisle.

Your heart dropped slightly at the abrupt end to your conversation. Now the two of you were going to go to your separate seats, and he’d probably forget all about you. It was one thing to make idle conversation with a stranger while on line, but you doubted he had any real interest in continuing the conversation beyond that.

Sighing softly, you rolled your suitcase down the aisle, pausing every now and then as the people in front of you put their bags in the overhead bins and got themselves sorted. When you finally reached Row 22, you stopped and looked back at Mr. Hottie with an apologetic smile.

“Sorry, this is me. I’ll just be a minute,” you told him, pushing down the handle of your carry-on.

“No worries, this is me,” he grinned, indicating Row 21. “I even snagged the window seat,” he added with a wink.

Your mouth went dry. He had the window seat of Row 21. You had the window seat of Row 22. He was sitting directly in front of you.

“Here, let me help you with that,” he said, reaching for your carry-on bag and easily hefting it above his head, sliding it into the overhead bin for you. “Do you need me to put this one up there, too?” he asked, pointing towards your duffel bag.

“Oh, no, it’s okay,” you shook your head, holding onto the strap of your bag. “I’m going to keep this one with me. Thanks a lot,” you smiled, not even noticing the line of disgruntled people that was beginning to form behind the two of you.

“No problem,” he smiled, starting to slide into his row with his backpack still on his back. “Have a great flight.”

“You, too,” you replied, a little sadly, as you crawled into your row, doing your best to ignore the annoyed looks some people were throwing your way.

Needless to say, it was just your luck that the impatient man from the boarding line ended up sitting right beside you. You tried to smile at him, but he just grunted and put his headphones on, completely ignoring you.

Fine by you. Pulling your phone out, you found that you had a whole new series of texts from Katie, demanding to know exactly what was happening.

On the plane now. We should be taking off soon. I talked a little bit to Mr. Hottie. Are you happy?

It didn’t take long at all for her to respond. You could imagine that she had been sitting by her phone, waiting eagerly for your message.

Eeeee, yes, very! What did you guys talk about? Are you sitting near each other on the plane? Did you exchange numbers??? Send me a picture!!!

You laughed softly to yourself as you tried your best to answer all the questions your excited friend had asked you.

Just small talk. He’s actually flying home to San Diego, too. He went to UVA and was there for a reunion weekend. We did not exchange numbers and I’m not going to be a creepy stalker and take a picture of him, but he actually is sitting in the seat right in front of me.

OMG, IT’S FATE!!! So he has the same layover and everything??? And he’s FROM San Diego?! Babe, this is the guy for you!!! You’ve got to keep talking to him!

How would you suggest I do that? Just tap him on the shoulder and whisper into his ear the whole time?

It’s only a couple hours to Atlanta, and then you’ll have the layover, and then another four and half hours to San Diego. You could practically be engaged by the time you land! Just slip him a little note or something. Give him your number!

Your stomach was doing somersaults at the mere thought. Between the two of you, Katie had always been the more outgoing one. She would have no problem slipping a note with her phone number on it to a complete stranger, putting herself out there for the possibility of rejection and utter humiliation. You, on the other hand, preferred to play it safe. It was much more comfortable that way. And sure, maybe you’d never met your Josh the way Katie had, but at least you’d never been hurt too badly, right?

Unbidden, you thought of Andrew and felt bile rise in your throat.

Luckily, you were saved from having to answer Katie right away when the cabin crew made the announcement that it was time to shut down all electronics. Switching your phone onto airplane mode, you slipped it into the front pocket of your duffel bag and took a deep breath, buckling your seatbelt and closing your eyes.

Takeoff was your least favorite part of any flight. When you were a little girl, your parents used to make funny faces and sing silly songs to distract you from your terror. Even now as an adult who was flying all on her own, you still tried to remember the sound of their voices as the plane began its ascent.

It didn’t take too long before you were finally cruising at 18,000 feet and the captain turned off the seatbelt sign. Since you were a Delta SkyMiles member, you got free Wi-Fi on all your flights, so you immediately reached to turn your phone back on to let Katie know you had taken off safely.

As soon as your phone connected with the Wi-Fi, it was instantly flooded with a slew of text messages. A couple were from some of your friends back in San Diego, wishing you a safe and easy flight, but most were from your crazy best friend.

Don’t think you can use being on a plane as an excuse not to answer my texts!

I know you’re a SkyMiles member and you can see these messages!

You better answer me!!!

Shaking your head, you quickly tapped out a quick message in response.

Took off safely. Thinking of watching a movie before we land in Atlanta. You’re crazy and I am not slipping him a note.

Your phone was blessedly quiet for the next several minutes, and part of you hoped that Katie had given up this ridiculous notion. Knowing her as long as you had, however, you should have figured that wouldn’t be the case.

What’s the worst that could happen? He doesn’t answer you? The two of you never talk again? You’ve never seen this guy before in your life, and the chances are good that you’ll never see him again after this. So if you put yourself out there and it doesn’t work out, who cares? At least you tried. And sure, it might be a little embarrassing at first, but like I said, you’ll never have to see him again. But what if you thought about it the other way around? What if it DOES work out? What if this could be the start of something great? Would you really just want to walk away, wondering what could have been and regretting that you didn’t take a chance? You deserve to be loved so, so, SO much! And I know that you have so much love to give! This guy would be lucky if you chose him. Just give it a try, will you? For me? Please! You can’t see it, but I’m giving my best puppy dog face right now. And sending you all the best vibes! You can do this! I love you! ♥️

You groaned at your best friend’s heartfelt message. How could you possibly say no to that? You knew Katie just wanted the best for you, and she wanted you to be happy. You wanted to be happy, too. What if she was right? What if this was your chance? Would you be a fool to just walk away from it without even trying? Like Katie said, at least if you tried, you could say you’d done all you could. And if it didn’t work, then Mr. Hottie just wasn’t the one for you. No harm, no foul.

You were starting to feel like you might need to make use of the vomit bag tucked securely in the seat pocket in front of you when the stewardess stopped at your row to offer you all snacks and beverages. You gratefully accepted a can of ginger ale and a packet of pretzels, nibbling on them slowly in an attempt to settle your roiling stomach.

You were being an idiot. There was no reason to be so dramatic about all this. You could write a quick note and pass it up to him, then pretend it had never happened. Seriously, what was the worst that was going to happen? He was going to get up and make an announcement over the loudspeaker that the girl sitting in 22A was a pathetic, lonely loser? You doubted that very much.

Before you could lose your nerve, you reached into the front pocket of your duffel bag and pulled out the pen you always kept there. Turns out, it really did come in handy. Mercifully, the grumpy man beside you was already snoring, so you could write your note in peace without being worried about him seeing what you were doing.

Hand shaking slightly, you penned a quick letter to the handsome, charming man in 21A.

Hi there. I realized in all our talking that I never caught your name. But it might be good to know, seeing how we’re layover buddies and all. Hope you’re enjoying the flight so far.

You signed your name at the bottom, and then took a deep breath, reading over what you had written on the back of your Delta napkin. It sounded impossibly stupid, but you’d come this far and you weren’t going to turn back now. What was it that people on the internet were always saying? Something about shooting your shot?

Breathing through your nose to avoid getting sick, you reached out a trembling finger and lightly tapped the broad shoulder that you saw peeking out from the seat in front of you. You suddenly realized that he may have been asleep and panicked at the thought of waking him up, but he shifted immediately at your touch and you could tell that he was turning towards you.

Not wanting to meet his eye, you immediately thrust your napkin into the small open space between your seats and the windows, silently praying that he would take it from you instead of laughing in your face.

A second later, you felt his large fingers brush against yours as he took your little note, shifting in his seat once more so that he was facing front again.

What had you just done? Oh, God, there was still another hour left to go on this flight, then a layover, and another four and half hours to San Diego. True, you would never have to see him again after you landed in California, but that was still a lot of time left to have to be in proximity to him if all of this blew up in your face.

You were just about ready to launch yourself out of one of the emergency exits when you suddenly looked up and realized that there was a small white napkin hovering above your head.

Mr. Hottie in 21A was reaching back with your note in hand. Your stomach plummeted and your face and neck grew warm with shame at the thought of him returning the letter you’d written him, until you noticed the red ink on the back of it.

You’d written your note in black ink.

Slowly reaching out, you took the napkin from his hand, your fingers brushing against each other once more. His were large and warm and calloused and made goosebumps rise on your arm.

Pulse beating rapidly, you turned over the napkin to see the response he had written on the back. His handwriting was a bit messy, more of a scrawl than anything, but it made you smile to look at it.

What was I thinking, not properly introducing myself to my layover buddy? Hope you can forgive me. My name is Bradley. I don’t suppose there’s any chance you’ve got some Wi-Fi on this flight, do you? If you do, feel free to text me. We seem to be dangerously low on napkins.

At the bottom, he’d written his cell phone number.

Pressing a hand over your mouth, it took everything in you to swallow back the squeal of delight that rose up your throat. It worked! Katie’s silly plan had actually worked! Oh, she was going to gloat about this forever when you told her.

Beaming brightly, you pulled out your cell phone. As much as you loved her, Katie could wait right now. You had an extremely gorgeous layover buddy to get in touch with.

Typing his number into your cell phone, you opened up a new message and contemplated what to say for a moment.

Layover buddies who both just so happen to have some inflight Wi-Fi? Clearly it’s meant to be.

You hoped the message came across as cute and flirty instead of desperate and weird as you hit send, anxiously waiting to see if he would reply.

It took only a moment before your phone buzzed, Bradley’s name lighting up your screen.

Layover buddies who both just so happen have some inflight Wi-Fi AND spring for the window seats? Obviously it’s meant to be!

You smiled and were about to think up a reply when another message suddenly came though.

Oh, and to answer your note—I’m enjoying the flight a lot more now.

The butterflies went crazy in your stomach as you wrote back to him.

Me, too. And that’s saying a lot, considering the four-year-old behind me hasn’t stopped kicking my seat since we boarded.

Bradley only took seconds to reply.

Oof, that’s rough. If I could switch seats with you, I would. But I have to admit that I’m very happy that you’re not kicking my seat.

Wouldn’t be too sure about that, you sent back teasingly before lightly nudging his seat with your foot.

Hey! I thought we were friends!

We’ll see 😉

You and Bradley went back and forth like that for the entire remainder of your flight to Atlanta, the banter light and easy as you teased and joked with each other. You even ended up playing a game of 20 Questions, in which you learned, among other things, that Bradley’s favorite color was red, he once broke his arm when he was seven years old, and he absolutely despised peas.

As the captain announced that you would soon begin preparing for your final descent, you shot off a quick message to Katie, who you had woefully neglected during your conversation with Bradley.

I owe you one. The pep talk and the plan actually worked—I’m texting Mr. Hottie as we speak! Update you soon. We’re about to land in Atlanta.

Just as you sent the message off to your friend, another text from Bradley arrived.

Looks like we’re going to have to turn off our phones, layover buddy. I’ll see you when we land. Food? I’m starving.

Grinning, you had to pinch yourself to check that this wasn’t some sort of elaborate dream.

Same. I’ll race you for some french fries.

You’re on.

When the plane finally landed and the captain turned off the seatbelt sign, everyone practically jumped out of their seats in a mad dash to see who could be the first to get their belongings out of the overhead bins. Since you and Bradley were in the window seats, you took your time, knowing you weren’t getting off the plane anytime soon.

You were surprised, however, when he suddenly popped his head over the back of his seat, grinning down at you. “Good thing our next flight doesn’t leave for a couple hours yet,” he said, indicating the crowd with a good-natured grin that made your heart melt.

You had almost been starting to think you’d exaggerated just how good-looking he was, but nope. He really was that hot.

“Plenty of time to grab those fries,” you laughed, smiling up at him.

When you and Bradley were finally able to step out into the aisle, he opened the bin above your head and reached for your suitcase.

“Let me take care of this for you,” he said, lowering it to the ground and lifting the handle so that he could wheel it up the aisle.

“Oh, you don’t have to,” you insisted, not wanting him to think that you expected him to carry your things for you.

“Hey, what are layover buddies for?” he winked, leading the way off the plane.

Once the two of you were standing face to face in the middle of the airport terminal, you began to feel a little shy and self-conscious again. It had been easy to talk to Bradley via text, but now that you were gazing up at his handsome face again, you suddenly found yourself getting just as tongue-tied as before.

Bradley seemed to sense your nerves because he smiled warmly at you, his demeanor just as open and friendly as it had been the entire time you’d known him.

“How about we hunt down those fries?” he suggested, waiting until you smiled and nodded before turning and guiding you towards the main concourse.

The two of you ended up finding a quick and easy little fast food counter, where you ordered a couple burgers, a large order of fries, and some vanilla milkshakes with whipped cream and cherries. As soon as it became clear that Bradley was going to pay for both your meals, you tried to argue and insist on paying your share, but he wouldn’t hear it.

“My mom raised a gentleman, and she would kill me if she thought I was even thinking of letting my layover buddy pay for her lunch,” he told you, winking playfully as he handed his credit card to the employee behind the counter.

You took your suitcase from Bradley as he balanced the tray with your food in his hands, leading you to an empty table towards the end of the concourse.

“Your mom must be very proud of you, I’m sure,” you grinned, reaching eagerly for a fry and popping it into your mouth. “Did you get to see her while you were in Virginia?”

Bradley smiled, though his eyes suddenly looked a little sad. “Yeah. Yeah, you could say that.”

Deciding not to press the matter, you instead turned the attention to his college reunion. That led to the two of you happily swapping stories about your time in college, which landed you on the subject of what you do now.

“A naval aviator? Really? And a TOPGUN graduate? That’s very impressive,” you gushed, mentally picturing him in a flight suit. You’d gone on a couple dates with some naval aviators from North Island, but none as handsome or as charming as Bradley. You suddenly groaned and covered your face with your hand when you remembered what you’d said to him right before boarding the plane. “So that’s what you meant when I was saying that flying isn’t my favorite mode of transportation,” you murmured, feeling a little embarrassed.

Bradley threw his head back and laughed at that, looking genuinely amused. “Hey, I get it. Flying isn’t for everybody. Trust me, some days I wish I had just opted for a desk job,” he grinned, his muscles flexing as he stretched in his seat. “But there’s nothing quite like it, when you’re the one doing the flying. Maybe one day I can take you up in the air and change your mind.”

He looked across the table at you and held your gaze, and you felt sure in that moment that you would have promised him anything he asked.

“So what’s your call sign then?” you asked with a smile, resting your cheek in your hand as you looked into his eyes.

“Oh, you know about that, huh?” he chuckled, the tips of his ears turning pink. “Well, uh, they call me Rooster.”

You had a feeling he expected you to laugh—maybe other girls in the past had—but you just grinned brightly in response. “I like it,” you said simply. “It suits you.”

He let out a small breath and smiled in return. “Thank you. My dad’s call sign was Goose. So I guess it runs in the family.”

“Your dad is in the Navy, too?” you asked curiously, lifting your milkshake and taking a sip.

Bradley cleared his throat slightly, looking down at his lap. “He was. He died in a training accident at TOPGUN when I was two.”

You sucked in a breath at your own carelessness and looked across at Bradley with empathy glowing in your eyes. “Oh, Bradley,” you murmured softly, reaching out and resting a hand over his. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” he replied gently, a small smile on his face as he placed his other hand over yours. “But thank you.” He was quiet for a moment before he went on. “It was just me and my mom for a while, back home in Virginia. But she got sick when I was in high school, and she passed away my senior year.”

“Bradley,” you breathed out sadly, your heart breaking for him. You winced when you thought of what he’d said before, about seeing his mom while he was in Virginia.

“She and my dad are buried in my hometown, where I grew up. I go to see them at the cemetery whenever I’m back in town,” he explained, as if reading your thoughts.

“I’m sure that means a lot to them, and that they’re smiling down on you always,” you told him sincerely, squeezing his hand lightly.

He smiled up at you, the sadness in his expression lifting slightly. “I like to think so. I think they’d like you a lot,” he added, then looked away. He suddenly seemed embarrassed.

The two of you sat back, disentangling your hands as you sat in mildly awkward silence for a moment or two.

“What about your parents?” Bradley asked, clearly looking for a way to change the subject. “Do they still live in New York?”

It was your turn to look sad now. “Well, we actually have a lot in common, Bradley. Only I guess my story is sort of in reverse. My mom passed away when I was six years old. She got in a car accident on her way home from work. And my dad passed when I was a freshman in college. Lung cancer.”

“Shit,” Bradley muttered, shaking his head and running a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have—”

“It’s okay,” you cut him off, placing a reassuring hand on his arm. “You couldn’t have known. And it feels kind of nice talking about it with someone who I know understands. You know what I mean?”

“Yeah,” Bradley nodded, his expression serious as his dark eyes rested on your face. “Yeah, I do.”

You and Bradley sat in companionable silence as you finished your meals, then checked to see how much time you had before your connecting flight.

“I guess we should start making our way over to the gate,” you suggested, glancing at the time on your phone. You had about ten text messages from Katie, but you were too embarrassed to open them anywhere near Bradley.

Bradley nodded in agreement, wordlessly taking the handle of your suitcase and leading you back across the concourse.

“Hey, we got so distracted talking about my job that I never even asked what you do,” he suddenly realized once the two of you were seated at your gate, both your phones charging in a nearby outlet.

“Oh, yeah,” you smiled, brushing a loose strand of hair that had escaped your bun behind your ear. “Funny enough, I actually work for the Midway Museum,” you told him, glancing up at him, only to find that he was already gazing down at you.

“No way! Guess we’re both stuck aboard aircraft carriers for work then,” he chuckled. “What do you do?”

“Well, my official title is digital content specialist,” you said, biting down on your lower lip. You felt like it always sounded a bit pretentious. “Basically, I help run the museum’s digital accounts—social media, their website, email blasts, things like that. My degree is in marketing and communications, so that’s basically what I do.”

“That’s amazing,” Bradley said, and you could tell that he genuinely meant it. Some guys just pretended to be interested in your job as a pretense for trying to get into your pants, but you could tell that Bradley actually cared about what you had to say. He was actually listening. “Is that what brought you out to San Diego?”

“It is, actually. I had been applying to a few different places, and when I got word from the Midway that they were interested in hiring me, I thought that maybe it was the fresh start I needed,” you confessed.

“Has it been?” Bradley asked quietly.

“I think so,” you nodded slowly, absent-mindedly twisting your bracelet around your wrist. “It’s hard sometimes, being so far away from my best friend, Katie—the one I was visiting. She’s pretty much the only family I’ve got left. But I like the life that I’m building in San Diego.”

“That’s good. I’m glad to hear it,” Bradley smiled, his hand lightly brushing against yours as he shifted in his seat. He looked like he was about to say more when the flight crew called your boarding group.

“Looks like we’re going to be sitting near each other again, 21A,” you teased, glancing down at his boarding pass as the two of you rose and grabbed your phones.

“Glad to hear it, 22A,” he joked in return, holding up his phone and waving it back and forth. “And now my phone is fully charged for our trip back to San Diego, so let the texting commence.”

Giggling, you nodded as the two of you walked down the rampway side by side and made your way onto the plane and to your seats without incident. When you got there, however, you saw that there had been some confusion with a young family that looked to have four children under the age of eight. It seemed as though their tickets had gotten split up so that they weren’t all sitting next to each other, and the mother was frantic.

“Excuse me, ma’am?” Bradley asked, quickly taking stock of the situation. When the woman looked up at him, clearly stressed out and worried he was going to yell at her, he smiled comfortingly. “I was just going to say that, if you’d like, you can have my seat. I’d be happy to take yours since it looks like it’s next to my friend here anyway. That way, we can all be comfortable and sit with the people we want to sit with.”

“Oh, thank you!” the young mother exclaimed, looking ready to hug Bradley. “Thank you!”

She and her husband quickly got their children settled, thanking Bradley a few more times for good measure, while he took your carry-on and set it in the overhead bin.

Once you had settled in your window seat, Bradley took the seat beside you, grinning impishly.

“Look at that. Now we don’t even need to waste the Wi-Fi,” he murmured, nudging you playfully.

“Things just have a way of working out for us today, don’t they?” you laughed, settling your duffel bag at your feet. “I’m just going to send a quick message to Katie, to let her know I made it onto my connecting flight,” you told him, reaching for your phone and quickly opening Katie’s messages so that Bradley wouldn’t see them.

“Good idea, I should text Mav,” Bradley said, grabbing his phone out of his pocket. At your confused look, he explained, “My godfather. He’s also in the Navy, and he also just so happens to be stationed out in San Diego. He’s going to pick me up at the airport.”

Nodding, you sent a brief text to your best friend, promising you would call her as soon as you got home, then settled in for the flight and tried to get as comfortable as possible.

As soon as you felt the plane jolt to life and begin taxing towards the runway, your chest grew tight and your grip on yours and Bradley’s shared armrest started to turn your knuckles white.

“Hey,” Bradley said softly, genuine concern in his voice as he glanced over and noticed how on edge you suddenly appeared. “You alright?”

“I’m fine,” you lied, keeping your gaze fixed straight ahead on the screen in front of you, which was currently playing some Delta commercial that your brain could scarcely register.

“I think your death grip on our armrest would suggest otherwise,” he pressed gently, his tone remaining light and good-humored. “You trying to take that thing with you?”

Startled, your nervous trance was broken and you glanced down to see what Bradley was talking about. Sure enough, your nails were digging into the armrest so intensely that you wouldn’t have been surprised if they left little crescent-shaped marks in their wake.

Letting out a shaky laugh, you looked up at the man beside you ruefully. “Okay, truth be told, I get a little anxious during takeoff,” you confessed, biting your lip in embarrassment. He would probably think that was silly. He was a fighter pilot, after all. His day job involved flying multi-million dollar aircrafts for the military. And here you were, acting like a scaredy cat over a commercial Delta flight.

Bradley’s eyes crinkled in a way that you found devastatingly charming as he smiled over at you. The look on his face was kind, without a single trace of mocking humor.

“Want to know a secret?” he whispered, leaning in closer to you so that his nose was nearly pressed against your cheek and you could feel his breath on your skin. “So do I.”

“You’re kidding,” you scoffed, shooting him a skeptical look. He was probably just trying to be nice. “But you’re a naval aviator!”

“Yeah, but I’m not the one flying this plane, am I?” he retorted with a lopsided grin. “It’s hard to put the reins in someone else’s hands. So I understand being nervous. Hell, I still get a little nervous sometimes when I’m flying an F-18. Just don’t tell anyone I said that,” he added, lowering his voice conspiratorially.

“Oh, of course not,” you giggled, smiling over at him. Glancing out the window, you realized that his conversation had distracted you so much, you hadn’t even noticed that the plane had finished its approach towards the runway and was officially waiting for takeoff.

Some of your nerves returned, and you gripped the armrest once more, but this time, you felt Bradley’s large, yet gentle fingers close over yours. Surprised, you turned your head sharply and instantly met his gaze. It was direct and disconcertingly open as he looked deeply into your eyes.

“It’s okay,” he assured you in a low voice, squeezing your fingers comfortingly. “We’re going to be okay.”

“My parents used to sing to me during takeoff,” you found yourself blurting out suddenly, your cheeks growing warm at the admission. “I can remember my mom doing it when I was a little girl, and my dad used to do it for me even when I was in high school,” you explained shyly, lowering your eyes to your lap.

At that moment, your stomach dropped as the plane suddenly began hurtling forward, seeking enough momentum to become airborne.

You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to recall the sound of your parents’ voices in order to calm your racing heart. But a new voice suddenly entered the mix as you felt your newfound flying buddy lean across the armrest, his warm body pressing against your side as he sang quietly in your ear.

“You shake my nerves and you rattle my brain…”

Wait a second. You knew that song. Where did you know that song from?

“Too much love drives a man insane. You broke my will, but what a thrill…”

Yes, you definitely knew that song. It was on one of the records your parents used to play when you were a little girl. Was it Jerry Lee Lewis?

Gasping in recognition, you whisper-sang the next lyric in harmony with Bradley—“Goodness gracious, great balls of fire!”

He laughed in delight when you began singing along, squeezing your hand with an affectionate grin. “And would you look at that,” he said, nodding towards the window. “We’re airborne. Wasn’t so bad, was it?”

Shocked, you followed his line of vision and were taken aback to see that you were already ascending into the clouds, leaving the city of Atlanta far behind. That had been one of the smoothest takeoff experiences you’d had in—well, you couldn’t even remember how long.

“I barely even noticed!” you exclaimed, focusing your attention back on Bradley. You smiled gratefully, your heart melting at the adorable puppy dog look on his face. “Thank you, Bradley.”

You noticed at that moment that he still hadn’t let go of your hand, and your pulse began to quicken, but this time for entirely different reasons.

“You’re welcome,” he murmured in response, his voice low and suddenly husky. It did something to you, that deep, raspy voice of his. “Happy to do it.” He squeezed your hand gently once more, then slowly—almost hesitantly—let it go.

“I haven’t heard that song in the longest time,” you told him, resting back against your seat. “My parents used to listen to it.”

Bradley smiled slightly. “It’s the one song I can actually remember my dad singing. He loved to sing and play the piano. My mom had tons of home videos of him doing it. But that song—that song I can actually remember hearing him sing, you know? I was so young when he—well—I can remember that one. And that’s why it’s my favorite to sing and play.”

“You play the piano, too?” you asked, impressed. “Wow, a man of many talents.” You nudged him playfully, a big smile on your face.

“I’ll have to show you what I can do,” Bradley replied, winking.

Your stomach fluttered at the implication that he might actually want to see you again after today.

“I’d like that,” you admitted, ducking your head shyly. You suddenly felt much more aware of everything around you, particularly every inch of your muscular seatmate. Goodness, he really was huge, wasn’t he? Chewing nervously on your bottom lip, you began fidgeting with your bracelet, tugging at it absent-mindedly.

“That’s a pretty bracelet,” Bradley commented, pointing at it as he watched you twist it back and forth around your wrist. “A gift?” he asked lightly, his tone almost a little too casual.

“Mhm,” you nodded, smiling fondly as you gazed down at it. You could still remember the day you opened it. “My dad bought it for me as a present when I graduated high school. I never take it off.”

“Ah,” Bradley nodded, appearing surprisingly relieved. He was quiet for a moment or two, looking like he was mulling over something. Then he turned towards you and asked, “So, um, is there anybody waiting for you in San Diego? Anyone, uh, special, I mean?” he asked, his cheeks and his ears turning red as he rubbed the back of his neck.

You felt your own skin grow warm in response. Was Bradley asking if you had a boyfriend? And was he embarrassed about it? Just when you thought this man couldn’t possibly charm you any more than he already had.

“Not unless you count my neighbor, Mrs. Flores. She really appreciates it when I walk her dog on the weekends,” you told him, your lips twitching as you tried to maintain a straight face.

Caught off guard by your response, Bradley let out a loud laugh, covering his mouth with one hand as he glanced down at you, eyes twinkling.

“I’m sure Mrs. Flores will be very happy to see you back again,” he nodded, tapping his fingers on his tray table.

The two of you sat in silence for a couple minutes until you finally glanced up and said, “I had actually just gotten out of a long-term relationship right before I moved to San Diego. It was kind of the catalyst for why I decided to take the job at the Midway Museum.”

“Oh, really?” Bradley asked, eyebrows shooting up. Then he cleared his throat, shaking his head. “I mean, I’m sorry to hear that. If it’s too personal, we don’t have to talk about it.”

“No, it’s okay,” you sighed, twirling your bracelet a few times as you thought back on your last failed relationship. Surprisingly, it didn’t hurt as much as it normally did. Maybe time really did heal all wounds. You took a deep breath before you elaborated. “Andrew and I were together for four years. For a long time, I really thought he was the one. Katie was convinced that he was going to propose on our trip to Greece. It was a dream vacation for me. I had the whole thing planned out for months and months. And I really started to let myself believe that it was going to happen.”

Bradley sat quietly, watching you carefully as he attentively took in every word you uttered.

“We were in Athens, and I had the whole day planned—all these tours and museums. But Andrew insisted that he was too tired since we had just traveled from Rhodes, and he begged me to let him stay behind at the hotel. Being the idiot that I am, I thought that maybe he wanted to put the finishing touches on his big proposal. So I went on the tours by myself. But the last tour ended early, so I came back to our hotel room a little sooner than expected.”

Your throat began to tighten as the story continued, the pain of what had happened next eclipsed only by your embarrassment that Bradley would soon know how pitifully your last relationship had ended. Why had you brought all this up?

“I’ll spare you all the details, but suffice it to say, I found Andrew in bed with one of the cocktail waitresses from the hotel bar. And to no one’s surprise, there was no ring and he never had any intention of proposing. So I flew home from Greece minus a boyfriend and with very little remaining of my dignity. Leaving everything behind and starting fresh in San Diego seemed like a really good idea, so when the Midway contacted me, I jumped at the offer. And here I am,” you finished with a self-conscious laugh, shrugging your shoulders awkwardly.

Bradley didn’t say anything at first, just continued to stare at you in a way that had you feeling distinctly exposed. Your fingers immediately went to your bracelet once again, nervously fidgeting and waiting for him to say something.

Reaching out, he placed his hand over yours and stilled your movements gently. “First of all,” he began slowly, looking directly into your eyes. It seemed as though he was peering directly into your soul. “Andrew is a complete and total loser. If he didn’t know what he had in you, then he never deserved you to begin with. It’s his loss, and trust me, he’ll be regretting it for the rest of his life if he has even an ounce of sense.” His thumb brushed lightly against your knuckles, making your legs suddenly feel like Jell-O. “Second of all, I’m so sorry. You didn’t deserve that, and I hope you know that the way that idiot treated you in no way says anything about you. I’ve only known you for a few hours, but I can see that that guy never deserved you to begin with.”

Feeling bashful, you lowered your head, trying to escape the intensity of Bradley’s dark eyes. It didn’t matter though—you could still feel his gaze.

“You don’t have to say that,” you murmured, not wanting him to think you had just unloaded all of this on him for sympathy points.

“I’m not just saying it,” he insisted, his voice serious. “You’re a special girl, and you deserve to be with someone who treats you that way.”

Someone like you?

The thought sprang unbidden to your mind, causing you to grow flustered. “Th–thank you,” you stammered, worried for half a second that Bradley could actually read your mind.

You were saved from having to make any further comment in that moment when the stewardess suddenly appeared with the food cart, asking you if you wanted any snacks or beverages.

You opted for a Diet Coke and popcorn, while Bradley took a Sprite and a bag of potato chips.

“What do you say? A little toast to my new flight buddy?” Bradley suggested teasingly, holding his can of soda out towards you.

You couldn’t help but smile, lightly tapping your can against his. “Cheers to us,” you laughed, taking a small sip.

“To us,” Bradley grinned. “You know,” he went on, after taking a gulp of his Sprite, “if you ever want to think about getting your pilot’s license, I’d be happy to have you as my wingman—er, woman.”

You laughed aloud at the notion, shaking your head. “Um, did you already forget about how well I handled takeoff? I’m not so sure anyone would trust me behind the controls of a plane.”

“I could teach you,” he shot back, waggling his eyebrows until you laughed again. “Or at the very least, take you up for a little joyride. I’d make sure to keep you safe.”

Your heart warmed at his words, and you found yourself wondering what it would be like to walk through life with this man, to have him be the one you came home to every day.

To have him be the one to make you feel like the most special girl in the world.

“I would like that,” you confessed, pushing your self-consciousness to the side as you looked into his eyes. “I would like that a lot.”

“So would I,” Bradley replied, his expression earnest.

For the next hour or two, you and Bradley shared some of the snacks you’d packed in your duffel bag and talked about everything and nothing at the same time. You had never felt so instantly at ease with someone who had been a complete and total stranger just a few hours earlier. The fact that he had been in San Diego all this time, right under your nose, and that it had taken a flight home all the way from Virginia for you two to actually meet felt like more than just a coincidence. It felt like this was exactly where you were supposed to be.

At some point, you must have finally succumbed to your exhaustion and fallen asleep because when the captain announced that you were making your final descent into San Diego International Airport, you were lifting your head off Bradley’s shoulder and blinking in confusion.

“Hello there, sleepyhead,” Bradley grinned, wiping a hand down his face and rubbing the sleep out of his own eyes.

“How long was I asleep?” you asked, stretching your arms over your head. “I never sleep on planes.”

“Well you definitely slept on this one. I’d say you were probably out for at least an hour and a half,” he told you, running a hand through his hair, which made his sunkissed curls stand on end. “I nodded out, too. Guess we both needed it, huh?”

“Yeah, guess so,” you nodded, smiling at him.

By the time you finally deplaned—after Bradley, of course, had insisted on taking down your carry-on suitcase from the overhead bin and rolling it through the airport for you—you were growing both eager and anxious with anticipation of what the end of your journey would look like.

You and Bradley technically already had each other’s phone numbers, so should you say something about getting together? Would that seem too brazen? Should you just text him tomorrow and hope that whatever spark had been ignited during your travels today wouldn’t be extinguished by the time you both got home?

All of those thoughts and more were running through your head as you and Bradley took the escalator down to baggage claim and the terminal exit.

“Do you, um, do you have somebody picking you up?” Bradley asked as the two of you stepped off the escalator. He stepped to the side to avoid the flow of the crowd, and you stepped with him. “Mrs. Flores perhaps?” he added with a teasing spark in his eye.

“No,” you giggled, shaking your head. “I was just planning to call an Uber.”

“No need,” he said, his chest puffing out ever so slightly. “Mav and I will give you a ride home. He should actually be here already,” he mumbled, almost to himself, as he pulled his phone out of his pocket and scrolled through his messages.

“Oh, you guys don’t have to do that. I wouldn’t want you going out of your way,” you hurried to tell him, noticing that Bradley still had his hand on the handle of your suitcase.

“Who says it would be going out of our way?” Bradley retorted with that impossibly charming smile of his. “Unless, of course, you’re more comfortable taking an Uber. I don’t want to make you feel like—”

“No, no, you’re not,” you interrupted, wanting to make it clear to him that you appreciated the offer.

Seemingly at an impasse, the two of you just looked at each other and started laughing.

“I would love a ride, thank you. If it’s not too much trouble,” you told him.

“Never,” Bradley insisted. “Besides, you put up with me all day. I owe you.”

“I could say the same thing,” you grinned, reaching into the front pocket of your duffel bag and pulling out your cell phone. “In the meantime, I should text Katie and let her know I landed safely and that you haven’t abducted me or anything,” you teased jokingly.

Too late, you realized your mistake.

“Ah, so you told Katie about me, huh?” Bradley smirked, looking just a tad too pleased with himself. “What did you say?”

“Oh, um, nothing, just that I made a friend while traveling,” you stammered in humiliation, your cheeks feeling like they were on fire. “I’m just, um, I’m going to step over there while you get your bag.”

“Sure, sure,” he laughed, winking at you as he hurried over to the baggage carousel to search for his suitcase.

“Oh my God, how stupid are you?” you muttered to yourself, mentally kicking yourself for your careless words as you sent off a quick message to your best friend to let her know you were alive.

A moment later, she texted you back.

YOU BETTER CALL ME THE MINUTE YOU GET HOME!!! I WANT EVERY. SINGLE. DETAIL!!!

Smiling, you dropped your phone back into your bag and looked up to see Bradley walking towards you, his suitcase in hand.

“Ready to head out?” he asked with a smile, watching as you grabbed the handle of your carry-on and did one quick scan to make sure you hadn’t dropped anything.

“Ready,” you nodded, following him outside to where a slew of Ubers and other cars were waiting to pick up their passengers.

“There’s Mav,” Bradley told you, pointing with his free hand towards the end of the pick-up line, where a handsome older man with dark hair and an easy smile was waving at you.

“Your godfather drives a Porsche?” you asked, your eyes nearly bugging out of your head at the sight of the vintage car. It was in pristine condition and you were certain it must have cost a small fortune.

“Technically, it’s his fiancée, Penny’s car, but she lets him drive it when he’s been good,” Bradley joked, resting a gentle hand on your back as he guided you through the crowd.

Bradley was quick to embrace his godfather when the two of you finally reached the Porsche, slapping him on the back before stepping back and holding out a hand to you. “Mav, I’d like you to meet my new travel buddy,” he grinned, introducing you by name.

Mav, as Bradley kept calling him, offered you one of those easy smiles as he held out his hand, which you took with a smile of your own.

“Ah, so this is the girl from the plane I’ve been hearing so much about,” Mav smirked, shooting a pointed look in his godson’s direction.

“Mav!” Bradley hissed through gritted teeth, his complexion instantly turning pink, even in the shade.

“Ah,” you smirked, feeling vindicated from your earlier blunder. “So you told Mav about me, huh?” you asked, nudging his side. “What did you say?” you teased, tossing back his question from before.

“Oh, he said plenty,” Mav jumped in, clearly enjoying watching Bradley squirm as he opened the passenger side door for you.

“Don’t listen to him. He’s crazy. All those Gs he’s always pulling have finally gone to his head,” Bradley protested, although he was smiling as he said it.

“Oh, I think I’m going to enjoy this car ride very much,” you giggled, winking at Bradley as you slid into your seat.

“Promise you’ll still like me by the time we get home?” Bradley whispered, leaning in close as he climbed in beside you.

You grinned up at him, thinking about how, for the first time in a long time, you didn’t feel so alone. San Diego suddenly felt much more like home than it ever had.

“Promise.”

#bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw #rooster bradshaw #rooster x reader #bradley bradsaw x reader #x reader #x female reader #top gun #top gun: maverick #miles teller

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navybrat817 · 5 months

Text

We Don't Talk Anymore

Pairing: Best Friend!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: You and Bucky have an honest conversation, but it may not have a happy ending.

Word Count: Over 2.9k

Warnings: Angst, confessions, communicating, crying, feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (yep, he's a warning)

Previous Part of AU: Where Did the Time Go?

A/N: More Dreamboat and Butterfly from my Reconnect AU! Sorry in advance, lovelies. ❤️ Beta read by @whisperlullaby , but any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

As long as you and Bucky had been friends, you rarely saw him nervous. It wasn’t an emotion he liked to show to many, even though he knew you’d never judge him. Watching him clench and unclench his jaw, the fingers on his left hand twitching before he ran them through his hair, you sensed just how anxious he was. Whatever he had to say had him on edge.

Which had you right there with him.

“Just tell me what's going on,” you urged, putting a hand on his arm in the hopes that your touch would calm him. “Please.”

Bucky swallowed as he looked at you. Why was it a gaze like he was saying goodbye? “You asked how I knew TJ stayed at your place,” he began, moving his arm to take your hand in his. “I went to see you after Steve’s party because I had something I wanted to say to you. Something I wanted to say for a long time.”

You took a step closer, your heart racing a bit faster. The combination of excitement and nerves blended together as you squeezed his hand. “What did you want to tell me?”

The next words out of his mouth would either break your heart or heal the unnecessary pain you put on yourself by staying silent for so long.

“That you weren’t just my best friend. You were so much more to me than that,” he said, bringing his palm to your cheek. You instantly leaned into his touch. “I wanted to tell you that I was crazy about you and wanted you to be my girl.”

Butterflies filled your stomach and it took you a second to find your voice. Was this a dream? “You wanted me to be your girl?” You asked softly, like if you said it any louder you’d wake up.

“Yeah,” he whispered, a sad smile on his face. “I never wanted anything more than that.”

It was like the ground shifted beneath your feet as you let the words sink in. The butterflies in your stomach went straight to your dizzy head. Bucky Barnes wanted you to be his girl. You longed to hear that he felt the same way you did. It didn’t feel real though.

You were waiting for the shoe to drop.

Because you were always just out of reach of Bucky. It was like you were a step behind, but you still wanted to follow. You wanted your paths to eventually merge the way you thought they were supposed to.

“Bucky, I…” you trailed off, trying to get your bearings. You wanted to admit that you felt the same way, but you needed the rest of his story first. “If you felt this way, why didn’t you say anything? Why were you with Dot?”

Why didn’t you just tell me?

A darkness clouded his eyes. “I didn’t feel like I was good enough for you. I never thought I deserved you. Because you’re the best person I know and I’m just me,” he said.

“Bucky, don't say that. You're more than good enough. You deserve the whole world,” you argued. Had you done something to make him think he didn’t deserve you? “I’ve always thought that.”

“When you tell yourself of something for so long you start to believe it. And that’s what I did: I convinced myself that I would never be the man you wanted or deserved to be with,” he said. It broke your heart that he didn’t see himself as worthy enough for you. “And the day I tried to tell you, I shouldn’t have listened to that voice in my head.”

“What happened?”

“TJ answered your door. Shirtless, messy hair. I immediately jumped to conclusions about why he was there,” he answered, his nostrils flaring. Was he replaying the image in his mind? “And when I asked if I could talk to you, he said you were sleeping because he kept you up all night. I left and didn't look back because I thought my assumption was right and something in me broke.”

Your mouth fell open as you realized what Bucky thought happened. “You thought TJ and I had sex,” you stated, wanting to shake him when he nodded. “We didn’t have sex. He kept me up all night talking.”

“I know that now. I should’ve known then. But I thought that was my sign that I was right all along and that I’d never have you,” he explained as tears sprang to your eyes. “You asked me why I dated Dot. It was because I settled. I thought that was what I deserved.”

“So, you thought TJ and I hooked up or were together or something and that was it? You just decided not to say anything to me. And you went to Dot because you knew that was a sure thing?” you asked louder than you intended to, an ugly feeling swirling in your gut. Was it bitterness? “You gave up on us.”

Was it actually giving up when you weren't together? In a way, yes. He bowed out without a word.

“Gave up on us?” he repeated, searching your face for something you couldn't place. “Wait, what are you saying? That you care about me, too?”

“Yes! Yes, I do. So much,” you admitted, hastily swiping at your cheeks as tears fell. “You’re the only guy I’ve ever wanted.”

“You wanted to be with me?” he asked above a whisper, wiping a stray tear away with his thumb.

You couldn't stop crying as you nodded, an ache in your heart spreading with each tear. “Yes. It has always been you. I was going to tell you how I felt, even at the risk of our friendship, but the day I planned to was the day you introduced Dot as your girlfriend. I knew it was too late.”

If someone asked you to visualize what both heartbreak and hope looked like, it would’ve been the expression on Bucky’s face. “This whole time…”

“This whole time,” you confirmed, swallowing the lump in your throat. “And I never stopped caring about you. I thought maybe I’d try and move on, but I couldn’t.”

“Oh, my God,” he whispered as his hand dropped, a shuddering breath leaving his lungs. “I'm sorry. I’m so sorry I didn’t go to you before Dot. I should have.”

“Honestly, yeah, you should have. You didn't give me a chance to explain. You didn't even attempt to fight for me,” you accused, your eyes stinging as your vision blurred again. The floodgate was open and you were powerless to stop it. “Bucky, you gave up so easily at the first sign of something you thought was a problem. I wasn’t worth it to you, was I?”

Your chest tightened as you let the hurt sink in. You wanted to be angry, but you were only left tangled up in disappointment. That was on you for expecting too much, wasn't it?

“You are worth everything to me,” he said, stepping closer as you took a step back.

It sounded like a promise, but felt like a lie.

“If you really thought I was dating TJ, did you ever wonder why you never saw him around much after you went to my place? Or if I slept with him, did you question why I didn’t talk about him or bring him up?” you asked, feeling as defeated as he appeared to be. “Or was I already so far gone from your mind and heart that you just didn't stop to question it or care?”

“There's nothing I can say to fix it because I know I messed up. Saying 'I'm sorry' isn't enough because I shouldn't have given up before we started,” he said, daring to lift a hand to wipe more tears away. You allowed him to do so. “I never should've put you through that. You are the last person in the world I'd ever want to hurt and I hate myself for doing just that.”

“I don't want you to hate yourself,” you whispered, your chest steadily rising and falling. “But I am hurt.”

Like the cracks that formed in your foundation, his face crumbled at your admission. “Butterfly, all I want to do is show you that you mean the world to me and make up for not being there for you. It’s the whole reason I’m here.”

“So you want to fight for me now, but you didn’t fight for me then!”

“Because I’m a fucking coward!” he shouted, both of your eyes wide as he raised his voice. His shoulders slumped, like the rush of emotion went as quickly as it came. “I didn't think I could be with you and I still wanted you in my life even if we weren’t together. I couldn’t even do that right.”

You knew Dot had a huge hand in why you didn’t see Bucky as much, but it wasn’t all her fault.

“But why didn’t you tell me how you felt?” he asked gently before you could say anything else. “I wouldn’t have been with her if I had known. I shouldn’t have been with her in the first place.”

Hearing that didn’t stop the ache in your heart. If anything, the pain expanded. Bucky said he settled for Dot because he thought that was the kind of girl and relationship he deserved. You settled by staying silent. Part of you even felt bad for his ex, even if she knew he wasn’t fully invested. Maybe that was why she didn’t want you around. She really did know that he wanted you.

“Because I thought you were happy and that's all I ever wanted for you. Even if it wasn't with me,” you told him, something simmering in your gaze as your eyes narrowed. “Do you think I'm some kind of homewrecker? That I'd be selfish enough to tell you how I felt, with no indication that you even felt the same way, to ruin a relationship you told us you were happy in?!”

Loving someone sometimes meant having to sacrifice.

“No, I don’t think that of you at all. You’re the least selfish person I know.”

“Then what kind of person would I be to destroy your path to bring you back to mine?” you asked, not waiting for him to respond as you held up a hand. “And you know what? I agree that we wasted time. Two years wasted because we couldn't just talk to each other. Two years of seeing you in bits and pieces,” you continued, each word like a punch to the gut. “Two years of trying to figure out what the hell I did to push you away.”

He quickly shook his head. “You didn’t do anything. I-”

“You know, I've imagined so many different ways that we’d tell each other we cared for one another beyond friendship. I didn't think it would end with me crying,” you said, straightening up and trying to put on a brave face as you wiped your cheeks one last time. “So what now? Where do we go from here? We can't go back and fix it and I don't even know if I can trust you to not give up on me again. Because I never would have thought in a million years you wouldn't give me the benefit of the doubt.”

“You're right. We can't go back and I made a mistake by giving up before. I have no intention of doing that again,” he said. You wanted so badly to believe him. “And I have no right to ask anything of you, but please. Give me a chance to show that you can trust me.”

It broke your heart that he chose Dot over you so easily. You also understood what self-doubt could do to a person. How many times had you told yourself that Bucky would never see you beyond anything besides a friend? Could you completely fault him for settling?

You also wanted to trust him since you loved him.

“Give me a chance,” he begged as he leaned in, his lips a fraction away from yours. It was like you were sharing one breath. “Please.”

All you wanted was to kiss him. To tell him you’d be his. You almost closed the gap between you.

But you couldn’t do that tonight.

“I think I need to be alone for the rest of the night. I can't think clearly with you right in front of me,” you said, you resolve almost breaking when panic filled his eyes. “I'm sorry.”

The impulsive part of you practically screamed to jump in his arms and promise him forever, but you owed it to yourself to take a little time to reflect.

He swallowed a little. “Please, I-”

“I'm not saying 'no' to you. I'm not going to ask you to prove anything to me. I told you, I’m used to not being a first choice,” you smiled sadly, continuing before he could react to that comment. “And this isn't a test to see if you'll chase after me when I walk away. This is me asking you to give me space for the evening. If you really care about me as much as you say you do, you'll respect that.”

Bucky opened his mouth and shut it before he opened it again. His breathing became shallow as hurt and understanding showed on his face. “Whatever you need, Butterfly.”

“Thank you, Dreamboat,” you whispered, pulling free of his grasp. With a deep breath, you took your first few steps away from him. They were both the lightest and heaviest steps you ever took, your head held high despite your sinking heart. It both pained and healed you. “And thank you for talking to me,” you added when you stopped at the porch.

“I wish I would've talked to you sooner,” he said.

Your heart sank more at his wistful tone, the urge to comfort him taking over.

As you looked at him over your shoulder, you took in the sight of him in the moonlight. He seemed like a shell of himself as he stared at the ground with drooped shoulders. You didn't think you’d ever seen him look so lost. How did someone so strong to you appear so powerless?

And could you walk away with him in that state?

“We talked now. That means something,” you said, offering him a small smile when he lifted his head. The corner of his lip tugged in a tiny smile as well, but it fell quickly. It was a heartbreaking sight. “And Bucky?”

“Yeah?” He asked hopefully.

“My feelings for you haven’t changed,” you assured him as he let out a breath. The weight in your chest lightened at your admission, likely needing to say it as much as he needed to hear it. “If anything, they’re stronger because we finally talked. I just want you to know that.”

Even if you went your separate ways at the end of the week, Bucky would always be in your heart. You didn't have to be with him to know what you felt for him was real. You also didn’t want to try and carve him out because you considered yourself lucky to experience what love felt like, the good and the bad. Some would never know that feeling.

Bucky let out another breath and stood straighter, determination filling his eyes as he brushed his hair out of them. It was a far cry from his stance moments ago. Did he ignite a fire within himself?

Or did you light the match?

“My feelings haven’t changed either. And they won’t,” he promised. “I'll beg for you to be with me if that's what it takes, but I'm not giving up this time.”

Your heart raced faster, but you wouldn't let it deter you. “Maybe tomorrow we can figure out where we go from here,” you suggested. As much as you wanted to see Bucky grovel, you wouldn't make him do that. “Good night, Bucky.”

“Sweet dreams,” he whispered.

Like you asked, he made no move to follow.

You avoided the rest of the gang as you went straight to your room and allowed yourself to cry in peace on your bed. Your heart was still pounding in your chest as you reached for your pillow. When did your hand start shaking? When did your head begin to spin?

You could still feel Bucky’s touch on your cheek, his voice in your mind begging to give him a chance.

“What the hell am I going to do?” You asked out loud.

Leaving Bucky outside was one of the hardest things you had ever done and you wondered if you made the right choice to do so after his confession, but you were proud of yourself. You knew how he felt now and you opened up about your feelings as well.

As much as you loved him though, you had to sleep on it. Even if he didn’t care about Dot as much as he did for you, he was still with her for so long. You didn’t know how he intended to prove his feelings for you, but the determination you saw in his eyes told you there was hope for tomorrow. You would figure out the next step in your relationship.

Maybe you would even allow yourselves the happiness you deserve.

Together.

I know! 😭 I'm sorry, lovelies. Things will look up. Love and thanks for reading! 💙

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

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horrorartsworld · 2 months

Note

Hi !! I don't know if you're taking requests atm but, if you are,,, imagine a shy reader has had the biggest CRUSH on Alastor which he catches on right away lmao (so much blushing--) So it's only a matter of time before he decides to take the first step that maybe turns into quite the steamy make out session?? ❤ Love your work sm !!

Since these two gave off the same vibes i tried my best to put both ideas in one!! So i hope you enjoy my lovely nonnies & ofc you too ;)

delicate flower

alastor/shy f!reader

warnings: no bad stuff just cute stuff with a little heated kissin’ c:

𖤣.𖥧.𖡼.⚘ 𖤣.𖥧.𖡼.⚘ 𖤣.𖥧.𖡼.⚘ 𖤣.𖥧.𖡼.⚘ 𖤣.𖥧.𖡼.⚘ 𖤣.𖥧.𖡼.⚘ 𖤣.𖥧.𖡼.⚘ 𖤣.𖥧

Sitting nestled on one of the plush couches of the Loungeroom, you tried with everything in your power to be discreet with your gaze, though your eyes couldn’t help be drawn to the infamous radio demon, Alastor, as he talked to Charlie about some business.

A very tall deer-like gentleman he was, quite charming and good-natured, seemed to carry himself well, and always had that permanent grin spread from ear to ear. However something about that old-fashioned radio voice is what did you in, catching your full attention while it smoothly fell from his lips. Before you knew it you were basically eavesdropping on their conversation and staring like a creep, lost in a daydream about the guy like a love-sick puppy.

Your crush on Alastor was very clear, to point that almost the whole hotel was in on it, even the man himself who just so happened to reciprocate those same feelings that you desperately tried to hide. He wasn’t sure what to do with said feelings, but what he was sure of that he loved watching your cheeks take on that soft pink hue whenever he would walk into the room or simply looking in your direction like he was now catching your gaze with a playful smile forming on his lips causing your mind to panic instantly. He reveled in the way your body squirmed and writhed in your seat not knowing what to do with his attention on you.

Your legs seeming to move on their own as you quickly get up and scurry off to another part of the hotel in attempts to calm your rapid beating heart. You hated that you acted like this all because of your painful shyness making it even harder to go up and talk to him. Knowing he would never push you away or anything of that matter it was just your own silliness getting in the way. As you scold yourself you find that your absentminded scurrying led you into the hotels library, putting you at ease being surrounded by a bunch of literature and the faint white noise of the others in the lobby.

Letting your fingers delicately dance amongst the hard covers of the books, until you picked one up that caught your fancy, skimming through its pages before putting it back.

You do this a couple more times before picking up two that you’d bring to your room to read later, not paying attention to your surroundings when you go to leave, turning on your heel you manage to bump into something or someone with your books falling to the ground with a loud ‘thud’ and your face being engulfed within a soft fabric. Slowly looking up you meet his beautiful red eyes, making you instantly freeze under their gaze as they were half-lidded with his eyebrows raised in amusement. “There you are my little fawn” His voice seemingly gentle and humming with static as it always did.

“A-alastor i-i’m so sorry…i d-didn’t mean to-” You began to babble out your apologies until they were suddenly cut off by a foreign feeling that made your stomach do backflips, his hand cupping your cheek as his soft lips coming in contact with yours in a longing kiss.

Your once anxious thoughts finally melting away with his touch. Giving you the confidence to touch him back, by resting your hands amongst his chest, softly running them up his tailored coat to his shoulders where you gave them a gentle squeeze.

The kiss was deepening quickly without the two of you realizing it, not caring about the breaths you so desperately needed to take. Alastor nibbling at your bottom lip asking for entrance as you then part your lips letting his tongue intertwine with yours.

Soft whimpers manage to escape into your open mouth tongue kisses with Alastor. Your hands suddenly leaving his shoulders to run through his hair lightly teasing your fingers against his ears causing a shiver to roll through his body.

You pulled away finally gasping for air. The way you touched him flipped some kind of switch inside him that he’s never experienced before. He slithers down your body, letting his arm hook underneath your rear as the other held your waist in a sweet yet heated embrace kissing your shoulder gently before looking up at you once more. “My dear, you’ll never understand how much I longed to do that…” He gently tucks some of your hair behind your ear with a sliver of adoration in his voice as he came to realize that he never wanted this to end with you and he knew that after tonight it never would.

#☆⋆｡𖦹 my writings #☆⋆｡𖦹anon’s #☆⋆｡𖦹 alastor #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel fanfic #hazbin imagine #alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor x reader #hazbin hotel alastor x reader #alastor x reader #alastor imagine #hazbin alastor #alastor fluff

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lightwing-s · 2 months

Text

𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐏𝐒

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐯 ; 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞

pairing: jason todd x fem! reader

summary: when everything seems go, at least start, to go right, you're getting to actually enjoy the thoughts of your pregnancy, things take a turn. no, not a turn, a fucking spin, a descent in a downward spiral. basicallly, you're fucked.

word count: 10,3k (yes, i'm actually very surprised i managed this) warnings: pregnancy, medical talks, bad parenting and terrible fathers.

a/n: it took me too long to finish, i know. but i did enjoy my time in carnaval before almost dying from a flu. the chapter is long and is very important to the future of the story, so please, don't be mad at me for it. take breaks, eat while your reading, idk, do your thing. ily and i missed you ♡♡♡

reblogs and interactions are always appreciated ! ♡

links: previous ; next ; series masterlist ; general masterlist

You thought that telling Jason about your pregnancy would be the trigger that would set your life into a downward spiral. That everything would be different once it was done with. You would be different, he would be different, and the world would be different too. However, the days that followed could not have been any more normal.

Although your mind was still clouded with anxious pregnancy thoughts, your days went on as usual. You woke up early, exercised and went to work, just to come back home hours later to do whatever it was you got on your mind that night before going straight to bed. The only indications of your condition were the looming thoughts and the excessive tiredness you carried everywhere with you.

It was like the world around you didn’t get the memo your whole life was about to be totally different just a few months from now..

And the world didn’t have to. It didn’t care that Yn Sn was pregnant. It would continue spinning around, circling the sun, like it always did. Day by day, minute by minute, like nothing had changed. And in the great scheme of things, nothing had. You did. You were the one who had changed. You were different, or at least you would become. Good or bad, nothing was gonna be like before. You would keep changing as the world would always be the same.

In the great scheme of things, the world didn’t revolve around you. Your life wasn’t a linear movie plot, troubleless and predictable. It was proving to you right then and there that it wouldn’t hold your hand and give you a rulebook on how to proceed with every little thing. You were on your own to figure out this journey. It was now about you. And him.

At first, you only noticed the small differences. You were tired, more than usual. It seemed like every move you used to make swiftly was now heavy and took you double the effort to complete. Two days after your talk, Jason went back to the clinic to pick up the full test results, and had it delivered to you at your door. You didn’t invite him to stay, nor did he ask you to enter, and you opened the envelope to find out you were about five to six weeks pregnant by yourself. It meant the baby was now growing faster and faster, and providing all that extra energy was what had been draining you off yours.

Your trips to the toilet became more frequent, even if your water intake had remained the same. That had raised one or two eyebrows at work, but considering the amount of things you were all working on, no one had given those bathroom runs their full attention. However, your new breast size didn’t go as unnoticed. In fact, it became a big topic of discussion between your coworkers, where each person tried to bet which surgeon had given you a cup size that was almost double of what yours originally was.

Then, there was also him. Every single day since you’d broken the news, Jason woke you up with a good morning text. He’d ask if you had slept well, if you were alright, and if you had gotten sick at any point the day before or if you craved or wanted anything. He knew it was about time you got morning sickness and cravings, and he wanted to do what was best to keep you and his baby in perfect condition.

He seemed to care about this baby a lot, even this soon. Not even the most positive scenario you could’ve come up with had you imagining he’d be this sweet, this nice. Actually caring and attentive. Yet, here you were, and he made sure to always tend to your needs whenever he was needed. But he wasn’t needed that often. Except for the good morning texts and your subsequent daily health report, you two didn’t talk much.

Nessie, your best friend, was also really into the idea of this baby. Daily, she’d flood your messages with baby videos and pics, pregnancy tips and motherhood articles. She might as well be the mother of this child, because she was certainly more excited than its real one. She had even told her own mother about it, letting her know she was going to be an “auntie” and how she should bring gifts the next time she comes over to visit.

You haven’t even considered telling your parents about it yet, brushing the thoughts away every time they’d come up in your mind. In fact, most thoughts about your pregnancy were brushed aside, as you were still not ready to fully accept this new reality of yours.

Thus, a couple of weeks went by since you’d last seen Jason. As normal as they’ve ever been. Then, it was a Thursday night. One where you found yourself spread on your sofa, craving sweets and a large pizza, with your best friend sat on your living room floor, rambling excitedly about something you weren’t paying much attention to.

“... and, even though everyone knows he has a fucking girlfriend, he was at the party with not only one, but two other girls. He’s such an asshole!” Nessie spoke about whatever season of a TV show she was rewatching. But your mind couldn’t have been any further.

You stared at your phone screen, reading and rereading, again and again, the last messages in your chat with Jason. He had just asked about your day, if you felt sick or anything, and instead of giving him your usual and very formal reply, you went on and on about your sudden desire for dessert pizza. You didn’t know what had gotten into you, but your fingers were faster than your conscience and without a proper thought, the message was sent.

. 8:24 PM

hey, how are you feeling?

. in desperate need of a good chocolate pizza . id kill for it . not really kill for it . yk...

🤣

You hoped you could be faster and delete it before he got a hold of his phone again, but the laughing emoji told you you were too late for that. Now, you laid there, overthinking your text when there was nothing you could do about it. Much like your pregnancy. Dumbass.

“Yn, are you even listening?” your friend called.

“Y-yeah. It was a really bad season, that one.” Without even moving to look in her direction, you gave her a half assed reply.

“Yn… What are you talking about?” she asked you, confused.

“Aren’t we talking about the Bachelor?” you tried to confirm, now moving on your side to see her eye to eye. However, her incredulous face told you you’d completely missed the topic. Offering her an apologetic smile, she rolled her eyes at you and threw you a pillow.

“No! I was talking about Dick Grayson?” She raised an eyebrow and you looked at her with your brows furrowed. “Gotham’s resident playboy? The one that was seeing like three different girls at the same time? Gosh you were such a killjoy, all I wanted to do was gossip. It doesn’t hurt anybody and it’s fun.”

You let out a laugh at your friend’s dramatics, telling her to keep going with her story, promising to actually pay attention to it this time.

“Okay, he was seeing this girl officially. I think her name is Barbara. Red head, tall, pretty as fuck. Okay. However, he was supposedly with not only one, but two side pieces. Like, for real, such a fuck boy.”

“Ew,” you engaged. “Not even a fuck boy, an asshole. What does his girlfriend think about this?”

“I don’t know.” She threw her hands in the air. “I don’t even think she knows about all of this, if I’m being honest. And if she knows s….” Ding dong. Your friend’s story was cut short by the sound of your doorbell reverberating through your living room. “Are you expecting somebody?” she asked. You shook your head.

Sitting up, you waited for the doorbell to ring one more time, just to be sure there was really someone at your door. You looked between it and your friend, suddenly worried about who the hell would be bothering you at this hour of the night. Standing up, you walked straight to the door with care. Silent steps taking you to the peeping hole.

Looking through it, a tall, sasquatch like frame you’d grown to recognize rather easily, stood on the other side. In his hands, you caught a glimpse of a few plastic bags, his helmet, and a cardboard box.

“H-hey,” you greeted him awkwardly when you opened the door, a bit surprised to see him there.

“Hi. Heard you wanted some pizza.” He winked, lifting up what you now could identify as two cardboard boxes exhaling the greasy smell of your desired meal.

“You didn’t have to,” you said, sliding a hand through your hair. It was just a silly text, you thought, but perhaps it wasn’t for him.

Shrugging, he dismissed your words. “I was craving some junk food too, anyway. And I hadn’t seen you in a while so…”

You bought me pizza? And brought it to my door?

“Oh my god, where are my manners? Please, come in. We’re in the living room,” you told him, freeing your spot to allow him to enter your apartment for the first time

“We?” he asked, and you didn’t have to turn around to know he was lifting a brow at you.

“Me and my friend, Nessie,” you said, showing him to the other girl sitting on the floor by the center table. By now, she had a clearly amused smile on her face, and her eyes sparkled with an excitement that had annoyed you for some reason. “Jason, this is Nessie. Nessie, this is Jason,” you introduced them.

Jason extended his larger hand for her to shake, and she did it way too excitedly. “Oh my, I’m finally meeting your baby daddy,” she sang. You kicked her right at the ribs.

“Nice to meet you too,” Jason said through a breathy laugh. “Although I have to say I’m still not used to being called baby daddy. I mean, you’re just the second person to tell me that, but it’s still weird.”

“Tell me about it,” you wondered out loud, but soon your mind clicked to the fact someone else had called him that when, as far as you knew, only he, you and Nessie knew about your pregnancy.

“So… What did you bring us?” Nessie immediately asked, like the hungry dog she had been all night, scanning through the bags and the pizza boxes he had placed on the center table and pulling you away from your own head..

“Oh, I got you your dessert pizza, like you asked. And I also got a pepperoni one, but I wasn’t sure if you would like it,” he explained, messing up his hair.

“I didn’t ask for it,” you blankly stated.. It wasn’t a lie. You didn’t actually ask for it, you just hinted you were highly interested in one. But having him show up with the object of your cravings at your door not even an hour later had you feeling a bit uneasy, uncomfortable with the fact you kind of made him do it. He stared at you wide eyed, blinking repeatedly, unsure how to proceed.

“Y-yeah. But, I-I just thought I would do you this favor. A-and it had been a while since we talked and…”

“And we are very thankful for it!” your friend cut him off, gladly pushing the awkwardness away. “We were starving cuz this one right here only had salad in her fridge.”

“I’m sorry if I haven’t had the energy to go grocery shopping.” You stuck your tongue out.

“I wouldn’t mind doing it for you, if you want it,” Jason offered, sitting down on the floor beside Nessie.

“I’ll get it done,” you said, following his move. “Eventually.”

Silently, you each decided to focus on all the food ahead of you. You couldn’t lie, you weren’t sort of enjoying all of this. Not only had he brought you pizza, and the dessert pizza you’d been craving, but he had brought you mini burgers from a place downtown you loved and even a slice of cheesecake.

“Have you checked any of the providers I sent you?” Jason asked, breaking the comfortable silence you had just settled in.

For the last few days, he had sent you tons of options for prenatal providers and doctors, something you knew you should’ve been more attentive to, but that you were avoiding like everything else regarding this pregnancy. You knew that, by this point, you should’ve already scheduled an appointment with a doctor, chosen a provider, and started looking into birthing options and other pregnancy needs. But you just couldn’t get your head into it.

Jason knew you were still not sure about this. The mention of the pregnancy or the baby clearly makes you anxious and uncomfortable. He wanted to take things slow, at your pace, but there were things you couldn’t really postpone, and prenatal checkups were one of them. So, he kept sending you options, just to see if you’d ever reply to any of them, but they always went unanswered. It wasn’t his intention to come to your house to talk about it, in specific, but he had to bring it up at some point.

When he arrived home from your apartment the other night, he immediately called his brother. Dick would know what to do, right? He’s the one with plenty of female experience. Still, he never made the silly mistake of getting one of them pregnant.

“That’s rough, buddy,” was all that he managed to say through the phone. Very helpful indeed. However, he did leave you with one single useful piece of advice: you should find a doctor.

Thus, he proceeded with his research. It felt like he had seen three thousand different doctor’s names, and a plenty of options of healthcare providers. Neither one of them sounded cheap, but it was a necessary expense if he wanted to make sure everything was going to be alright.

And you knew that too. It wasn’t as if you hadn’t checked any of the options. It was just so overwhelming. Every link for a website he had sent was filled with words and expressions you’d never even heard of, leaving you more confused about pregnancies than you’d been before. It was honestly so stressful that you had started to purposefully ignore it.

“I haven’t had the time,” you finally replied, picking out the pepperoni slices off your pizza, pilling them up on the side to eat them all at once. You heard him sighing deeply, and you could feel the annoyance by the way his shoulders trembled. You knew his patience had a limit, and he’d been so sweet and kind to you thus far that simply checking out the options was the least you could’ve done, and yet you didn’t even manage to do that. “It’s… a lot.”

Looking over at him, you observed him with his eyes glued to his pizza slice. You wanted to read his mind, to know what was going through his head at this moment. Was he mad at you? At your seemingly incompetence to do one simple thing? Gosh. You felt the anxious rumbling at your stomach, the same one from weeks ago, and you wanted to curl down and cry.

Why were you like this? What has gotten into you?

“I have an aunt who is an ob/gyn,” Nessie meddled in. “She’s pretty busy these days, but I could try and ask her to see you. If you want.”

Expectantly, Jason watched as you took your time to think. It was a good option, really. If she was busy, it could only mean she was a good doctor, right? And she was in Nessie's family.

“Yeah,” you agreed. A sigh of relief coming from the boy beside you. “I think it would be fine.”

“Great,” she celebrated. Standing up, she grabbed the empty cardboard box and walked to the kitchen. “I’ll call her tomorrow.”

Left alone with Jason for the first time tonight, you returned your attention to your half eaten pizza slice, desperate to focus on anything other than him, but turns out your brain had other plans. It constantly thought of him. He was right beside you, and that’s okay, but you could be occupying your mind with something else.

He too played around with his food, with his hands holding on to an energy drink he’d popped out of one of his bags. You caught a glimpse of the slight movement he did when he tried to offer you some of that same beverage, but he quickly realized perhaps it wasn’t good for the baby.

His veiny forearms were just inches from yours, making the hairs on your body rise up from this almost contact. It was like your body knew he was right there and tried to reach with anything it could get closer to him. You would be lying if you said you didn’t miss his touch. Not in a sexual way, like you’d been, shamefully, at the studio the other day. You missed his bear-like embrace that swept all worry away, that comforted you and helped you relax among so much stress and anxiety.

“I can pick you up. Take you to the doctor by car,” he offered, but something inside you told you he would accept your refusal as a possible response.

“Thank you, I’d love it,” you thanked, searching for his icy blue orbs. You could feel his fingers against yours, rubbing against your skin and sending a shiver up your spine. “And Jason, I’m sorry for what I said earlier, about the pizza thing. I’m just not used to all of this yet.”

“It’s fine, Yn,” he said, finding your eyes with a beaming smile next to his. “We’ll figure things out, eventually.”

Turns out Nessie’s aunt really was busy. Not just busy, but booked and “famous”. If you were to go by the sheer prices attached to her services, she was the Steve Jobs of obstetricians/gynecologists. It got you worried at first, because you weren’t sure your insurance would cover such costs, but Jason told you to not think about it, She managed to fit you, god knows how, in an appointment another two weeks later. But you couldn’t complain, because if you weren't “family”, you’d get to your first appointment with a baby already in your arms.

Every book you’d read, many of them being Jason’s recommendations, told you your first appointment should be scheduled between eight to twelve weeks, and as far as you could tell, you would be just around at your appointment.

The two weeks went by swiftly, and soon, it was the day of your first prenatal check up.

You were at work all day, as usual. Your morning had been chaotic, with the beginning stages of preparations for the upcoming spring issue keeping everyone on the edge. However, thankfully, the afternoon treated you all more kindly. Although your feet still ached from all the running around you’d already done, you still roamed around collecting papers, portfolios and coffee cups for your boss.

Pushing the massive glass door open with your shoulder, you entered Sandra’s office with her sample book in hand. The clock approached your leaving time, today a few hours earlier than normal due to “medical” reasons. Not a full lie, but a lie nonetheless. Those kept on repeating, and for the looks of it, they wouldn’t stop any time soon.

You just weren’t ready to tell anyone else yet. Perhaps it wasn’t the right moment, as it was still too early. Perhaps it was you not wanting to accept reality. The more people knew about it, the more real it would become. And you knew very well it wasn’t something you were ready to face, even though at this point you had no escape route left.

“Ym, before you leave, just let Ibra know we’ll be dropping by tomorrow to decide on the new photoshoot details,” your boss requested, not lifting her eyes off the papers on her desk.

“I already called him earlier, he sent you the models for you to check beforehand,” you informed, placing the large portfolio before her table. After rambling out your words, an involuntary sigh came out of you, a sign of your body’s exhaustion after a long day. “We’ll also get the Gucci sets by tomorrow, like expected.”

“Good,” was all you heard in response, and knowing her well, you took it as a sign to leave her to her work. Turning on your heel, you walked back to the door before her voice stopped you right at your tracks. “Yn, are you alright?”

Surprised by her question, one you’d never heard come from her directed at you, your head snapped back towards her direction. “I-I’m fine. It’s just been a long day,” you explained.

“Hmm,” she hummed, removing her designer glasses from her perfectly sculpted nose. “Have you been drinking a lot of water?”

“Yes?” you sort of asked, growing confused.

“Good, it’s important to keep hydrated during your pregnancy.”

You swallowed dry. Your eyes popped from its sockets, and you swore your breathing had stopped. “Sandra, you must be mistaken.”

“Am I?” she simply asked, raising an eyebrow before returning her gaze to her notes. Opening your mouth, you tried to answer something, anything, but no proper sentence seemed to be formed in reply, as your brain was caught completely off guard by her knowledge of your secret. “I don’t know how long you planned on hiding it, nor why, but you were silly to think I wouldn’t notice. You seem to take longer to finish a simple task, you avoided salmon at lunch and said it had a smell, and your size has increased. You forgot I have a 14-month-old at home and a five year old daughter, I know the signs when I see it. Congratulations, from what I know of you, you’re gonna be a great mother. Just make sure to find your substitute at least a month before your due date so they have the time to properly learn the job till you’re gone.”

Staring at your reflection on the glass walls your eyes stop at your stomach. Are you already showing enough? Is she the only person to notice? Of course you didn’t pick the best outfit to hide it today. Your clothes barely fit you anymore, so you had to rely on your dresses, the small collection you owned, to be able to build an outfit. And certainly, the ribbed fabric of the one you wore today didn’t hide any of your curves, no matter how tiny they were.

You stood there, still, unmoving, flabbergasted. If Sandra was capable of so easily finding out your secret, it would be in no time till others could do the same. It was a secret with days counted anyways, you wouldn’t be able to hide it forever even if you wanted to.

“That’s all,” you heard her say, breaking you from your sudden malfunction and getting back to operating mode. You fled her room faster than you ever remember doing, and sank on your chair with the weight of the world weighing you down. Your hands shook, sweating cold, and your heart beat a bit faster. With deep breaths, you tried to keep yourself under control.

“Yn,” you heard someone call, making you jump slightly on your seat. Looking up at the source of the voice, you found the raven haired boy now known as your baby daddy. In your office, right in front of you.

“Jason, what are you doing here?” you scream-whispered from behind your desk. He looked at you confused, as if you’d forgotten your plans for today.

“They let me in when I told them I was here to pick you up,” he explained. “The appointment, remember?”

Standing up hurriedly, you shoved your phone, your planner and the rest of your stuff in the designer bag you’d gotten off the samples given to the magazine. Fleeing your desk, you looked around to see if any of the other secretaries were anywhere close, grabbed Jason’s hand and pulled him with you out of your workplace. “You were supposed to call me when you arrived,” you scolded, pushing open the door.

“Sorry, you just weren’t picking up your phone,” he stated. Of course I wasn't, I was working.

Dragging him to the elevator, you successfully managed to push him inside before you entered and watched the door slowly sliding closed without having stumbled into any of your coworkers. Sighing in relief, you allowed your head to rest on the metallic wall. A small win for today. You were taking any victories at this point.

“Who are we running from?” You felt Jason’s breath on your ear, making you jump again. His soft giggle let you know that he found that entertaining. Let’s hope he’d enjoy your elbow to his ribs. “Ouch, I’m sorry.”

“I’m not running from anyone,” you said, crossing your arms on your chest. “I just don’t want to start any gossip in the office. These ladies do like to talk about other people’s lives.”

“Weren’t you and Nessie doing just that the other night?” he teased.

“That’s different.”

“How?” he gave you a sly smirk.

“It was not about my life,” you argued, offering him a smirk in return.

Jason shook his head, leaning on the wall right beside you, close enough that your shoulders touched. But different to the first time you felt him this close, you were not nervous or about to cut his head off. You were actually enjoying his presence. What an era to be alive.

“You look beautiful today,” he complimented you out of nowhere, bumping your shoulder with his playfully.

“You don’t look half as bad,” you replied, and watched both your smiles on the crooked reflection of the elevator door.

It wasn’t long till you arrived at the clinic, but it was enough time for you to fall asleep. Shortly after entering the car, when he was already cutting through other vehicles to avoid the traffic, Jason noticed your head hanging to the side, and even if he tried to fix it back in place, it would instantly fall once again.

He remembered how exhausting your job looked that couple of hours he witnessed by himself, and now must not have been different. Especially considering your pregnancy and the tiredness he’d had been reading about. So he let you nap quietly on your seat, making sure to watch out for your neck as much as he could while handling the road.

You were still groggy when you stepped into the white halls, needing guidance to find your way around. With his hand on your lower back, he took you to the reception, where a bored looking receptionist typed something away for what seemed like an eternity.

“Hi,” you greeted sweetly, a tone he wasn’t much used to hearing from you. “I have an appointment with Doctor Mikaelson.”

“What is your name?” asked the receptionist with an annoying nasal voice that made Jason want to punch her for no other reason than it was just annoying.

“Yn Sn. It’s spelled…” you continued, giving out every bit of information the woman needed. And it was a lot. As your first visit, there was a lot to be filled, and he stood to the side, watching as you answered all of her questions with a patience he hadn’t seen in many people.

There was something in the way you talked to the receptionist, with such poise and connectedness, that had Jason hooked. Leaning his elbow on the tall desk, and resting his cheek in his palm, he watched on as you continued to reply to each and every single question. The strong lighting did not ruin your look in the slightest, and in fact, Jason thought it somehow made you look prettier, something he believed no one else could manage.

The faint winds from the air conditioning blew on your hair, giving you your own magazine photoshoot ambiance. You did not stutter, nor did you take long to answer, all the words flowing from your lips even though he paid no mind to any of them. It wasn’t like the angry girl he used to meet at the gym, nor the one that showed up upset at his doorstep, or even the quiet one you would become around him recently. And he liked to think this was the real one, or at least a better glimpse at it than you’d ever let him see.

“Jason?” he heard you calling, and it was his turn to jump from his place. Giving you an awkward ‘yeah’, he let you repeat whatever it was you had said. “She said I’ll need to take some tests. Would you keep my bag, please?”

“Sure,” he said, fixing his posture and grabbing the rather heavy bag off your hands. “I’ll be sitting right here when you come back.

You nodded, offering him an actual smile, before walking off beside a nurse. He found a seat not too far from where you two were just standing, and watched as you moved away, swaying your hips side to side. Taking his eyes off your ass, he tried to focus on something else, catching a glimpse of the tiny pump on your belly. It wasn’t too noticeable yet, and might as well be some bloating from a heavy meal, but he’d wanted to think it was his baby right there, showing it’s first signs of life just under your care.

He’d been getting excited. Too excited, perhaps, for a baby that wasn’t even planned. But he couldn’t help it. When the initial fear was gone, all he could think about was the baby. His baby. He was going to have a baby.

All his life, he thought that if there was someone in his family that would have a baby by accident, besides his dad, it was his older brother. Dick was a dick, thought with his dick, and had given it to half the female population of Gotham. When he told him about it, he could not stop laughing, and Jason did think of punching him in the face. Repeatedly. But it was him that made the fear go away at first. Not by taking him out for a drink, which he still did, but by making him see the good in it.

“It’s a baby!”, he said. “You love babies, and you always wanted one.”

It was a baby, it was sort of your dream, and it was with the girl he had a crush on. It could be worse. Sure, there are a lot of changes of plans that he’d have to take from now on, but the good sides were much greater.

His father wasn’t very happy when he told him, though. But Dick, again, came to the rescue. “Jason is smart. He’s always been the level headed one… when he wants it. He’ll figure things out.” And soon, old man Wayne was on board with the new baby. So on board that he had already planned on rebuilding his suite at Gotham Memorial, just for your delivery. Jason had to tell him to calm down a little, you didn’t even know his dad was a millionaire yet.

You took quite long to return. Sitting back down besides him a good forty minutes later, pulling the sleeves of your dress over your hands to protect them from the cold. He handed you your bag back, and you two sat in silence for almost half an hour till the nurse called your name again. This time, with a “the doctor is waiting” along.

“Nervous?” Jason asked, as you two walked side by side to the doctor’s room.

“I was worse,” you replied, giving him a smile he returned gladly. “It won’t get that bad again. I think.”

Different from the waiting room, the doctor’s office was cream colored and the yellow lights much more comfortable. There were books decorating almost every surface, with toys and teddy bears everywhere too. It gave out a sense of comfort you so desperately wanted to find in your pregnancy. Given how everything, all your feelings, had been thus far, it was great that something could actually give you comfort.

“You must be Vanessa’s friend, right?” Doctor Mikaelson said, extending her hand for you to shake. You only nodded, still not used to going on doctors appointments on your own. What were you even going to say?. “And is this your boyfriend?” she asked, and your eyes immediately popped off their sockets.

“No,” you quickly replied. “He’s not… my boyfriend.”

Thankfully, she did not ask for any further explanation. “You can call me Rebecca from now on. Today we’re going to talk a lot, there’s a lot I want to learn about you, so it’s going to be a long appointment. It’s your first visit, am I right?” she questioned, and you just nodded your answer. “Any medical history I should know about? From you and other family members.”

Pulling her chair closer to the expensive looking computer, she prepared to type in the answers to her inquisitions. “No, no. I’m clean. Healthy. No medical history I can remember in my family either. I mean, my dad does have high blood pressure, but that’s it,” you explained, and looking at the moose sat beside you, you expected his answer. “Jason?”

“Erm…” he struggled. “I’m adopted.”

Surprised, your head angled to the side while your eyes were now glued to him, anticipating the rest of his story.

“Do you know anything about your biological parents?” the doctor asked, but he shook his head, ending the subject you so wanted to hear more about.

The appointment went on like this for a while. Questions were made, by both sides, answers were given. Some more explaining on Rebecca’s behalf, and soon the minutes went by swiftly, without you even noticing. It was now time for the ultrasound, as she explained, and while fishing for the items she’d need to perform the exam, you were left by yourselves for a short while.

Standing up, you awkwardly play with your feet as you wait for the doctor’s return. So far, your head was banging with so much information it had received in not much time, and the exhaustion from the full day was starting to catch up to you. Your mind was getting dizzy, and you mentally begged for it to be over soon and for you to be ready to go to bed. But the next step of your visit, and you couldn’t deny it, had you rather excited.

You found your reflection on a tiny mirror. You looked tired, but you looked pretty for such exhaustion. The extra effort put this morning on your look certainly had an effect, hiding, even if a little, your fatigue. As it had been happening for the past few weeks, your eyes soon spotted your belly, and now the tiny roundness it was making.

Your hands hesitated a couple of times. It was as if doing it would burn them, like it was wrong. But they reached it, touched the skin over the warm fabric. Touched you bump. Your still hidden baby. It didn’t look frightening then. Your hands didn’t burn. You just felt the protuberance in your body, the perfect little curve it made, and thought about, how the hell, it was supposed to keep a baby. It looked small and cute now. Tiny in comparison to the size it would get. Much like some of the women you saw in the waiting room, blowing up at any moment. Bellies round and exuberant.

But yours paled in comparison. At least for now. Your baby wasn’t ready to be announced to the world yet, and you preferred it like this. Kept just for the two of you for now. Your sweet little secret. Your sweet little love.

Jason thought you were stunning. He’d been staring at you, feeling your skin, from the side, and each reaction you got of it amazed him. It was a simple act, a touch you certainly repeat, over and over, until the day your baby finally arrived. But he saw beauty in it, nonetheless. He watched your hesitance vanishing, and your comfort was slowly visible. He too wanted to feel it, touch it, but everything in its given time.

“Will you lay down please.” The doctor returned, and as you pulled your dress to free your stomach, she offered you a blanket to cover yourself with.

Soon, just your tiny bump was out, the lights were off, and Jason stood by your head. Both anxious to hear the sound many boasted about.

“It’s kinda hard to find it,” the doctor said. “It’s still really small.”

Jason’s grip on your shoulder grew tighter as the time passed. He caressed the skin over the material of your dress to compensate for the pressure after whispering an apology to your ear. You didn’t blame him, you too were anxious for it.

“Ha-“ the doctor sang. “Here it is. Look, this tiny thing. This is your baby.”

You didn’t see anything. Just a dot. A tiny little stain on the screen where she pointed at. Yet, it nearly made you cry. There it was. Your baby. In its full tinyness. In its full “hey mommy, you don’t notice but I’m here” energy. You heard sniffing by your ear, and your head snapped to Jason quickly.

What, he mouthed, and you had to hold in your smile. What a crybaby. Cute, noted.

“And here,” she continued, messing with her station, adjusting levels and pressing buttons. “... is its heartbeat.”

The loud beating echoed through the room. Tudum. Tudum. Till your own had gotten faster. It was on for long, being turned off soon after four beats, but it would stick to you for the rest of the day. The little sounds your baby made. The single sign of its existence within you, sounding like music to your ears. Addictive, delicious to hear. Still in your head as you walked back to your apartment with Jason by your side.

You’d walked up there in silence. Comfortable silence. The long waiting hours and the extensive appointment getting the best of both of your energy levels.

“9 weeks,” he suddenly said. “You’re 9 weeks pregnant.” Joining your eyebrows, you looked at him. “That means we fucked a whole night and went by baby free, but one quickie in a random room had us doomed. The seed is strong- Ouch!”

With a single swing of your bag, you aimed for Jason’s head and hit your target precisely. He tried to dodge another move, but was hit by another swing before getting a hold of your weapon. Your laughter echoed through the small area, loud enough you were sure your downstairs neighbor could hear.

“Shut up,” you shoved him with your shoulder. “Is all of this a joke to you?”

“No, but that was funny,” his laughter joined yours.

Your hands struggled to enter the key on its lock, but soon your door was hanging open.

“Do you want to come in? Eat something?” you offered, still a bit skeptical of his prolonged company. He looked dead in your eye, a while that made you slightly uncomfortable. His icy blue stare makes your body shiver. Replying with a toothless smile, he shook his head.

“I better head home.”

“Are you sure?” you insisted. You didn’t know why, but you kind of wanted his company tonight.

“Yeah. I’m sure you’re exhausted. And I want my bed too, so I better head home before it’s too late for me to drive. You don’t want your baby losing its father this soon, do you?” he joked.

“It would be a tragedy,” you joined in on the fun.

Walking slowly to you, he held your cheek to place a chaste kiss to your forehead. Offering another thin-lipped smile, he turned his back to you and headed for the elevator. “Bye.” He waved.

“Bye, Jay.” You returned the gesture. The sudden use of a nickname made his smile larger.

“Ynie.” He gave you a wink, before disappearing behind the metal doors.

“So… How was the appointment this week?” Nessie questioned, eyes scanning the cool toned garments hanging on tons and tons of clothing racks. It was now Saturday, and you two had gone out shopping, something you hadn’t managed to put your head on for months, but that now managed to free it from any thoughts of your current state. Well, until now.

“It went fine,” you simply stated, avoiding commenting any further.

“You don’t sound too excited.” She raised a brow at you.

Averting your gaze, you stopped to look through a rack full of coffee tone wool cardigans. The colorful sets of summer were now long gone, giving place to the browns, grays and blacks of the fall/winter seasons. Thin fabrics like silks and linen being traded for thicker, more weather-appropriate substitutes.

Sighing, you allowed your friend’s words to linger in the air for as long as you could. You didn’t want to reply. There was nothing to reply. She knew pretty well your stance. “What’s there to be excited about?” you asked in return, and she gave you an upset look. “I’m having a baby with a guy I hooked up once. Sorry for not jumping around at the news.”

It was her turn to sigh, as you continued to roam around the store looking for anything cute for you to wear, since your clothes were now too small for your still not too visible but obviously growing bump. It was a struggle finding an outfit to go out today, having to make the most out of your summer dresses in the increasingly chilly days of September.

“I thought you were starting to like the idea,” she commented. Crossing her arms over the rack you were looking through and resting her chin on top of her hands, she forced you to stop avoiding her gaze.

“I was,” you started. “And then I wasn’t. I don’t know. It’s like every hour I have a different opinion on it. But it’s never too happy, or excited about it. And most often than not I regret ever laying eyes on Jason in the first place. I really don’t know what to think,” you swallowed a lump that started to form on your throat, and waited for the burning in your eyes to cease before continuing. “I’m scared, and anxious, and it seems like at every second something could happen to cause a turmoil again and I don’t think I can take another punch to the guts from the universe.”

You took a deep breath. You weren’t going to cry at the mall today. There were no pregnancy hormones, no random mood swings, that would ever allow you to do that in public. Then, the sudden touch of Nessie’s hand on your shoulder helped your breathing ease down.

“Nothing will happen. Don’t overthink it,” she cooed, tugging a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “And you’re having a baby! That’s all you need to be excited about. I know they are little energy suckers, crying loudly monsters, but they’re also so cute and adorable. Like, so cute and adorable you could take a bite out of them. And their giggles, and babbles. C’mon, I remember hearing you talk about your nephew, and how much you loved and missed him. You’re now going to have your own.”

Like a true best friend, Nessie’s words did manage to put a smile on your face. And she was right. You had focused so much on the down sides that you’d completely brushed off all the good ones and how much they could outweigh the others. The mention of your nephew and his baby sister reminded you of how much you’d loved them and how much it hurt to say goodbye to them every time you went back to college.

And you wanted kids. A family. It just happened to be an unfortunate timing.

“C’mon, let’s go.” Before you had the chance to ask where, she was dragging you out of the current store you were at and into another.

The racks of taller, bigger clothes were soon exchanged by tons of baby clothes, shelves of toys and items now in your line of view. The smell of the store was also more pleasing, exhaling the scent of lavender through it’s entire length. Pulling out a tiny baby onesie from a table right at the front of the store, Nessie nearly shoved it in your face before continuing her rant.

“Look at how cute this is. Can’t you imagine your baby in it? It’s so small and scary to think it can fit a human,” she joked, earning your giggle. It really was cute, and the picture of your baby in it made your tummy flutter. “And look at this one!” she nearly screamed, showing you a cute flowery knitted sweater. “I’m pretty sure my mom could make you tons of this. No shade to this store,” she lowered her tone as if anyone would hear. “But it’d be a lot cheaper, and prettier. Did I tell you before she knits?”

One by one, Nessie continued to show you random clothes and toys she kept seeing around and that got her excited. A music toy had you two concentrated on for an embarrassing two minutes before you realized your ages were not appropriate to the toy’s recommendation. You two laughed aloud at the images you both pictured of you and your baby, your future with each and every one of these items in it. Suddenly, the idea didn’t sound bad at all in your mind, and you actually found yourself getting excited about it for the first time.

At some point, even a worker had come to your side and started handing you things your baby would certainly need once it was here, and your brain got clouded with all the new information she had offered you in such a short amount of time. You were going out of the store with empty hands, but a long list of items you had to start sorting out.

A few minutes later and you were on your way out. That was when it caught your eyes. The fluffiest and cutest baby romper. It was golden brown and had bear ears and even a little fluffy tail, just like the ones you’d seen all over your socials from even before this state was an idea of your future.

Heading in its direction slowly, you took it from the rack, feeling the soft fabric in your hands. Your mind instantly being filled with images of your baby wearing it, not any unknown baby. Yours. Maybe by the age it was big enough to be strolling around in it, its cute little steps as you followed it around. Or still tiny so you would have to carry it around like a real teddy bear.

You felt your eyes watering. Your baby in it. Your baby strolling around. The cutest little legs and hands. Yours. Turning around to face your friend, you suddenly found yourself determined. “I’m taking this.”

It wasn’t only the romper you took. You left the store with bags almost full to the brim. In them, you had a cute pumpkin onesie, already in the mood for halloween, plushies and a few toys that had you and your friend entertained, tiny baby gloves and socks, beanies and packages of diapers Nessie had insisted it was never too early to start stocking up on.

“Babies go through those like crazy,” she told you, and then you had a bag full of them in your hands heading back to your apartment. May your credit card deal with the cost of all this later.

It felt good. It sort of felt… right. If you were really going to keep this baby, you’d have to get stuff at some point too. Correct? You weren’t softening to the idea, you were just being precautious.

But Nessie was right. Babies were adorable and you missed the ones in your life. Your nephew, and his little sister you mostly watched grow up through phone screens and instagram posts, were far away from you, living their lives despite your absence. You worked your whole life to get away from your parents power umbrella, and not only you’d not dare to return, but coming back with a baby was perhaps the worst thing you could do.

All the stress and work you’d gone through to get to Gotham couldn’t just be thrown out your window. Not for you, not for your sister. Although it hurt them to see you leave, they were always in full support of your choice. Your manumission.

A family. You told Jason you’d never had one. It wasn’t true. Although to your parents you were mere tokens of their “perfect” job as “parents”, as society people, they were never family. Your sisters were. And even though it was in an odd way, you loved and cared for each other dearly throughout your entire life.

It pained you to see each one of them leave your household, one after the other, for completely different reasons. Until you were all alone. And then you had no family. No one to rely on. No one to care for you in your parents' perpetual absence. Until you managed to leave yourself, even if it took you a lot of compromise and convincing.

Arriving on your floor with your bags in hand, faces stamped with laughter and aching feet, you stopped in your tracks as one single detail was capable of ceasing your happiness.

In front of you stood your door, spread open. The lights inside were on, and the well known sound of a female voice, humming along to a muted tune and moving things around. There were only two people that had your apartment keys, and they never meant anything good when they were around.

Brushing the anxious thoughts aside for a couple of hours had worked for nothing, because the worst of your nightmares had just become a reality.

“Take the bags with you,” you turned to your friend, shoving the bags in your hands onto her chest. “Please.”

“Yn, are you alright?” Nessie asked. Worry eating her up from just one look at your frightened expression.

No, I’m not fucking fine, you wanted to answer, but the words didn’t come out of your mouth. Instead, all you did was lose your breathing pace, getting hectic by the second, and your mind went numb.

“Yn, dear. Is that you?” you heard the ladylike voice of your mother calling from inside. Her steps soon too reached your ear, and her shadow approached the door behind you.

“Please, Nessie,” you begged. “Can you take this to your apartment? I’ll pick it up once they’re gone. They can’t see it, they can’t know I’m preg…”

“Oh. Were you two out shopping?” your mother asked excitedly. In good motherly fashion, or at least that was what she always did, she hurried her way to your side, grabbing the bags and eyeing up their content. Her hawk-like eyes scanned through each item carefully. There was no privacy at the Sn’s household, it wasn’t about to change now.

“Nessie’s cousin is pregnant,” You shoved the bags into your friend’s hands, away from your mother’s prying ones. “We were getting her things, you know, for her baby shower. We might’ve gotten too excited though, wasn’t it Nessie? We got too many things, but they were all so cute we couldn’t just not get them!”

You offered her a fake smile, forcing Nessie to join along. It often surprised you how good you were at lying, how fast you could come up with a good story. But maybe all those years of practice served you some good. It all came down to telling the truth, but not all of it. Always hiding something, always leaving details behind.

“I love baby showers. It still pains me you weren’t there for little Macey’s one, Yn. You said you had finals, or something, and couldn’t come. A shame really, your sister put so much thought into it for you to not be there. If only you’d gone to our local college, you could’ve taken just a few minutes of your day to be supportive of your family.”

“Mom,” you hissed, earning an angry glare in return. “Not here, please. Let’s go inside.”

“Fine,” she accepted, hips swaying as she followed you along. “Won’t your friend want to have some tea with us?”

“No,” you immediately cut her off. “She has things to do. For work.” Throwing your friend an apologetic glance, you closed the door behind you, locking yourself into your own hell for god knows how long.

“What are you doing here?” you inquired once you reached your living room.

“What are those manners?” she replied annoyedly. “Check your tone next time you ask me this, sweetie. It seems like you’re not pleased to have your parents around.”

“I-I’m sorry, you two just caught me by surprise. That’s all,” you excused, stuttering the words that you had managed to get out. “Where’s father?”

“In your room.”

Your heart stopped. What was he doing in your room? Why was he there? Why were you acting like you didn’t know the answers to those questions? All your life, all your parents did was snoop around, trying to find each and every way they could keep a hold of you, of your life, of your likes. Of everything.

You didn’t remember all you had hidden in your bedroom, and what was still hanging around, at an easy reach of his hand. But you couldn’t deal with the risk of him finding something, anything, that might lead them on to your condition.

Rushing through the corridor that led to your bedroom, you stumbled on the larger body of your father as you reached your bedroom door.

“Careful, Yn,” your father told you raspily. “Looking for something?”

His tone carried a note, a warning. He was on to something. Like a shark, he smelled blood in your attitude, preparing to attack at any moment you let something slip.

“Nothing,” you lied. “Just wanted to see you. I missed you.” You embraced your arms around his torso with difficulty, his round belly much bigger than yours and forbidding you from completing the embrace. He pushed you away not one second after you touched him, giving you a frown before heading back to the living space.

You held in your sigh, too scared he might catch on to your relief. Scanning your room quickly, you didn’t find a thing out of place and any clue he was onto something. So, quietly, you return to their presence in the small kitchen.

Their voices were blurry as you washed their dishes on your sink. They’d make themselves feel at home, cooking and eating in your home without waiting for your presence nor caring to leave you something. Your mind was elsewhere. It was in the moment they’d be gone. It was on you all alone again.

“Yn,” your father’s voice thundered through the room, making your head snap back to him in an instant. “Your mother has been talking to you.”

Staring blankly at him, you faltered a reply. “I’m sorry, I’m just a bit distracted.”

“Well, get your stuff together. Your mother is talking and you should listen. Here, I’m finished with this plate.”

Keeping yourself from rolling your eyes, you dried your hands and walked in his direction, aiming to get the plate and move as quickly as you could. However, you weren’t counting with your father, who didn’t even dare to look at you to hand you his place, knocked on your bag that was standing right beside him on the table on the floor. Its content spilled on the wooden tiles, revealing keys, hair ties, your wallet and envelopes of paper.

You tried to be fast, you swore you did, but your mother was faster. Grabbing the envelope from the floor, she looked at you worriedly. “Sweetie, have you been to the hospital?”

“No. No, no. I haven’t. Must be someone else’s. Got mixed up in my stuff.”

“But it has your name in it,” she said, already skimming through the pages. You place the plate back on the table, moving to grab it off her hands when her wide eyes disapproving stare told you she had found what you’d feared the most.

“Let me see it,” your father demanded. He took the papers from your mother’s hand with ease, as her strength had already vanished from her body. Her face was pale, and her eyes held a sorrow you’d only seen in her eyes once, and it was not in a good day.

“Daddy, don’t,” you cried, but it was already too late.

The veins in his face pumped up blood like crazy, making his face turn into the deepest shade of red you’d ever seen in someone else’s face. His eyes scanned the words in front of him rapidly, shifting from one side to the other, but always returning to the same spot at the top.

“Grab your things,” he spat out. “Grab your damned fucking things.”

Swallowing dry, his words fell from one ear to the other, not stopping at your brain to be processed in your thoughts. You were reactionless, staring blankly back at him.

“Are you deaf?” he nearly screamed, grabbing your arm with a strength you knew would leave a mark. “Who is it? Who is the father?”

“I-I,” you tried to speak, but any word that came out was stuttered. Your father shook you for an answer, like you do with a snack machine that is not working. “I don’t know.”

“YOU DON’T KNOW?” This time he fully screamed. You felt a tear pool by the corner of your lip, and it was then you realized you’d already started to cry. “You have been whoring yourself around to the point you don’t know who the bastard is?”

“Daddy, I-I…”

You felt your cheek burn. The image of his fingers now printed on your face. “I’m not your father. I did not raise a daughter to be a whore, to have a child out of wedlock after everything I have done to you. You’re an ungrateful bitch if you ask me. Wife, here is the reason why she so desperately wanted to be away from her family. To be whore. To give herself out to men she doesn’t even remember. Your daughter is a slut, and if that is the life she plans on living, then let her be on her own.”

His words hit you harder than his hand did. It pained you from within, tearing your heart apart. You sobbed by now, the tears making your vision blurry. He pushed you down the corridor and into your room.

“Get your things and get away from this house.”

You did as he said. The apartment wasn’t yours, you didn’t pay any of your bills. You spat on the plate you ate from, as they say. You had everything. Even if they tried to send you back, they still gave you everything you owned. And you were reckless enough to throw it all away.

Your hands trembled while you tried to fetch your luggage from the upper shelf of your closet. Your mother soon entered the room, and you hoped that for once she would stay on your side. That for once she’d coddle you, say everything would be okay and she would fix everything. But she didn’t. She didn’t even look at you. Just grabbed your clothes from the closet and the stuff off your drawers and shoved them all into your luggage and a few bags she’d found around.

“I’m so disappointed,” she whispered to herself before looking at you. “So disappointed. We put our trust in you. I should’ve never allowed you out of my sight in the first place.”

“Mom,” you cried out, voice a trembling mess. “Mom, I didn’t…”

“Save it,” she cut you, handing you a backpack. “Just save it.”

You walked out of the room with tears filled eyes, meeting your father by the door, waiting to lead you out. When you approached him, he resumed his grip onto your arm. “Too late for tears now.”

Pulling you towards the elevator, he went in with you. You wanted to it all to be over already, but he wasn’t keen on ending his torture.

“When this freak comes out of you, remember your parents. Remember those who have treated you right just for you to fuck them over. And I wish, oh how I wish it, that this kid treats you just as bad as you did us tonight. Get out of here, I don’t want you one feet close to this building. I don’t care where you go. You managed to find a guy's dick, you’ll figure things out. Leave.”

Throwing you onto the streets, you fell straight to the floor. He spat in front of you, and walked back into the apartment building. He told the doorman something, probably to never let you in ever again. Struggling, you stood up, grabbed your stuff with trembling hands, and walked away.

You didn’t know where to. You just knew you needed to go. As the tears blurred your sight, you walked into the darkness of the night. Aimless, senseless, and you hoped for, painless. But the aching on your heart told you you’d have a long night ahead. Alone, cold, pregnant, and fucked over.

Great. Just fucking great.

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astrolynnworld · 4 months

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movie date

pairings: switch!chris x reader

summary: you and chris are at the movie theater and chris starts to get horny.

warnings: smut, switch chris, fingering, oral, exhibitionism, language, mommy/daddy kink, praise.

a/n: since you guys loved my last sub story with chris i decided to give you guys a best of both worlds 🫡

word count: 1,255

chris holds the door for you as you guys walk into the theater

“after you, princess” he says as he gestures his hand out for me to go first. i laugh at the corniness that is chris sturniolo

nonetheless i walk in first as he trails behind me. we had already bought our tickets online so we just had to go to the employee working at the front desk to confirm our purchase and further allow us entry.

“do you want anything to eat before we go in, bae?” chris asks

“can we share a popcorn please?” i ask back

“i love when you know what i like” he remarks with a smile

after getting our popcorn, we find the theater number for our showing and get comfortable in the first open seats we could find.

as the trailers play, me and chris are having little side conversations about which movies look interesting enough to see for future dates.

we continuously eat our popcorn as the lights dim, signaling that the movie will begin soon.

about 10 minutes into the movie i decided to lift the arm rest up and get comfortable in chris’s lap as we finish the last bits of popcorn

“why does every movie theater have to be freezing?” i ask rhetorically

chris laughs, “here” he says while taking off his sweater to wrap around me while i lay on his lap

i smile as the small romantic gesture.

we continue to watch the movie without a word. although, i do start to shuffle around trying to find a better position where my body wont feel uncomfortable.

soon after, i start to hear chris’s heartbeat pick up.

“are you okay?” i ask the anxious boy

“yeah, why wouldn’t i be?” he responds

i leave it alone from there.. until i start to feel an growing imprint on my back

chris was getting hard. what from? i don’t know

“chris .. are you hard?” i ask

“im sorry.. i can’t help it when you’re this close to me, i can feel the warmth of your body” he replies.

“do- do you want me to take care of it?” i say while raising up so i can get closer to his face

“but- y/n there’s people around” chris says while anxiously looking around

“come on chris, there’s nobody in our row. nobody will be able to see, all you have to do is just keep quiet.. can you do that for me like a good boy?” i say while rubbing on his hard dick

“hugh.. of course i can miss” chris states while entering his submissive state

i personally love when chris is submissive, he gets so needy and cute. i would do nothing more than to always be the one in charge when it came to chris

“good boy.” i reply, knowing these words are his weak spot

i pull out his dick and start softly touching the tip just to tease him a little. he throws his head back on the chair.

the movie theater was dark but that doesn’t stop me from seeing the red throbbing tip that lies in front of me

“when’s the last time you touched yourself, chris?”

“i don’t touch myself, i wait for you”

now if i wasn’t already turned on by this whole scenario, this sentence would have sent me into a spiral.

i knew the last time we had sex was over 3 days ago, had he really not cum in three days?

“good. i want you to always keep it like that. good boys don’t cum when mommy’s not around”

i felt it throb in my hand.

“awe do you like when i talk to you like this baby?”

“mommy please.” he whines

“please what, baby?”

“please put it in your mouth” he tries to whisper

with this phrase i immediately put as much of him in my mouth as i could.

the speed of my motion caught him off guard so he let out a huff that almost blew our cover.

i put my right hand over his mouth and used my left hand to stroke whatever could not fit in my mouth.

i stroke stroke stroke, spit spit spit, lick lick lick, just being sloppy on his dick cause i knew that’s what he liked the most.

“fuck y/n your mouth is absolutely amazing” he iterated in an exasperated moan

he started to thrust up into my mouth, forcing his cock deeper.

gagging on his dick, i let him continue because i knew he was about to cum

“omg omg omg i’m gonna-“ the boy says before releasing spurts of semen down my throat

“fuck y/n..” he says out in breathy moans

i swallow his semen and give him a kiss to further lay back in my original position

“oh we’re not done” he says after i get back in my spot on his lap

“wha-“ i’m cut short as i feel his hands slide down into my underwear

“you’re so wet baby, is that all from me?”

the code switch drove me insane, how he went from calling me mommy 3 minutes ago to calling me baby in that patronizing tone

“hmm? i need you to speak for me baby” he says while gently rubbing my clit in circles

“fuck chris, yes this is from you.” i say inbetween breaths trying to maintain my volume

“you sound so good when you say my name like that” he says keeping the pace steady

“chris i need you to go faster please” i plead

“beg me princess.” he says in a stern dominant tone

how could a sentence be so hot?

“please chris please go faster, i neeeed to feel you so bad… do your worst to me daddy”

this ignited a new passion in chris, a passion to make you a fuzzy brained mess for his fingers.

“you’re gonna regret saying that, princess”

he uses the wetness of my pussy to slide his fingers on in.

i freeze at the feeling of his fingers going in because immediately after, he starts thrusting his fingers inside of me as a pace uncomprehending

“chri- chris.” i moan quietly while trying to pull away from him

“don’t move princess, don’t you wanna be a good girl?” he says mockingly

i thrust my body up trying to follow the rhythm of his fingers as he pushes and curls his fingers deeper inside of me

“that’s it my pretty girl, feel good for me”

i continue to use my body to push into his fingers, feeling the knot in my stomach start to untie.

he pulls his fingers out and starts fastly circling my clit once again so he can help me reach my climax.

i cover my mouth in pleasure while pushing out the feeling of my orgasm.

“cum for me princess, you’re doing so good” he says as he talks me through it

losing control of my hips i start bucking into his hand while letting out my high.

“you just squirted all over the chair” chris says as i relax my body

“huh?” i have him repeat

“the chair.. look”

the chair next to us was covered in my juices

“oh my god.” i say as a notice the scene

“we need to clean this up” i continue

“after baby, i wanna enjoy you for right now.” chris says

he grabs me back in his lap to cuddle as we finish the movie.

“we’re definitely gonna have to rewatch this movie” i say laughing

“oh yeah for sure” he responds.

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a/n: thank y’all for reading this!! hope you guys enjoyed <33

#chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo fanfic #smut #bd/sm switch #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #nick sturniolo #mommy k!nk #daddy k!nk #writers on tumblr

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j-u-u-z-o · 7 months

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Checking in On You (Shunsui x Pregnant Reader) 18+ NSFW‼️

AN: I wasn’t sure if I wanted to write this when this idea came into my mind but I couldn’t help myself. Like just Imagine how shunsui felt about the whole invasion of his home, promotion from captain to head and people getting killed. T.T yeah…whole lot of things going on in his mind; he’s really good at maintaining his composure during the situation. I hope I executed this perfectly! >.< 🤍

Synopsis: after the first invasion, shunsui immediately dropped you off at a fellow shinigami’s place for refuge so he can handle business in seireitei. You’re 7 months pregnant and you’ve been in the World of The Living for almost a month; shunsui makes a surprise visit to ease your mind.

⚠️WARNING: NSFW‼️, big tall hairy man wearin’ a pink cloak, fluff, fore play, fingering, GRAMMAR.

——————————————————————————

It was a hard rainy day in the World of the Living.

It felt long too.

You listened to the slow sounds droplets of water dripping in the bathroom sink down the hallway while you sat in bed.

You were staying at Urahara’s shop for almost a month and you didn’t know what was happening in Soul Society. You only remembered the Quinces suddenly invading Soul Society, killing hundreds of shinigami, the screams of agony and death that rang in your ears, your husband having to remove you from the disaster, and his “last” kiss he gave you.

Which is why you’re staying over at the shop for refuge.

The sounds of the rainfall started to worsen. Making you feel more anxious than ever. You haven’t seen your husband since he brought you to the urahara’s shop. You miss him every day. Hoping that the kiss won’t be the last one you’ll ever have. Suddenly, you felt a soft kick. You looked down and felt another one. A soft smile on your face, you caressed your round belly.

you’re actually not alone. You’re seven months pregnant with your unborn baby girl, in fact. A long sigh left your lips as you looked around the guest bedroom. It looked dull. Jinta and Ururu helped make it look welcoming for you since Kisuke is known for being a cheapskate.

The room consisted of a small window next your bed and a small wooden dresser with a few magazines on top of it. The walls are covered in yellow paint with wooden panels that highlighted the room a little bit. And, a small wooden coffee table with cards and a coloring book - where the two kids sat around to keep you company. But, there still wasn’t anything else to catch your attention.

“Mm.” You breathed out, slowly stroking your belly, “tickling” the unborn baby’s feet, whenever it kicked. You pouted and thought of your husband again. You miss it when he lays his head on your round belly, leaving warm kisses on it. Listening to his throaty chuckle when he felt a kick against his lips. “Yare, Yare, you’re rejecting me too, princess?”, His smiles making you feel warm and happy to witness the bond between his and your unborn daughter.

Of course, Shunsui didn’t want anything to happen to you and his child. So he thought this would be a good idea for the time being. To protect his little family.

A few rumbles of thunder rang in your ears. still caressing your belly, you turned to looked at the window. The streets are empty, the sky looks dark, and the cherry blossoms are covering the ground.

“I’m so bored.” you pouted, turning to look down at your belly. “Aren’t you bored, little one?” Your index finger circling around for another kick.

Kick. Kick.

You giggled. “I’m glad I’m not the only one.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After a small moment of bonding with your unborn baby, you heard the sound of a door sliding open and some bags enter the shop from downstairs. You also heard a long sigh.

Tessai. you noticed, looking at your closed bedroom door. Tessai is in charge of protecting you. He’s been your aid ever since shunsui dropped you off, ordering him and urahara to take care of you. From your own perspective, you see him as the “Man of the House.”

He cooks, cleans, runs errands, does laundry.

Oh. He even dropped the kids off to school too. He pretty much does everything.

When you heard him bringing more bags inside, You worried about his wellbeing since he came back from the pouring rain; signaling you to get up and go help him. You slowly rose to your feet. Already feeling the heavy weight of your pregnancy taking over. You took a deep breath and steadily made your way to the door and downstairs.

A little change of doesn’t hurt every once in a while, you thought. You walked to the front door and saw that the bags weren’t there. Raising an eyebrow, you turned to look at the kitchen. There he stood, unpacking the groceries on the counter. Wow. How long did it take me to get down here? With your hand laid atop your belly, you turned and walked to the kitchen.

“Um. Tessai? You stood by the doorway.

“Hm?” He stopped unpacking the groceries and turned his back.

“May I help you with this?” You offered, smiling softly at the man. “Oh. Miss Y/n, there’s no need. You should get some rest.” He looked at you with concern. You shook your head, walking towards him. “Don’t worry.”

“But-“

“I can make tea for you. If you don’t mind.” You cut him off. “ You were outside in the rain after all, Tessai.” You softly spoke. You’re so bored and wanted to do something that could take your mind off of worrying. He was going to refuse your offer again but he hummed and proceeded to unpack the groceries.

After a few minutes, you left the cup of tea on the counter for tessai. You also made tea for yourself. You walked around the shop as you sipped it. However, it wasn’t long before you felt yours ankles were getting sore. “I’ll be sitting in the living room, tessai.” He hummed while he stirred whatever was in the pot.

You eyed the new scenery like a curious cat while you drank your tea. At least, I can see the whole storefront from here. So, you stayed there. Eventhough, tessai kept popping in the room to check on you; almost giving him a panic attack when he saw you crawl on the hardwood floor to get the tv remote.

Soon after, your eyes felt heavy and you walked upstairs to get some rest.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Mmm.” You groaned, slowly opening your eyes, blinking to get a better view of your surroundings. surroundings a bit better. You felt a big hand rub your round belly as you laid on your side. Your unborn baby kicking…happily? The source felt so warm and comforting that you thought it was Ururu. You grunted again, the kicks were becoming restless and the caressing stopped. You turned to see her but your eyes met your husband. Shunsui.

“Hi, Petal.” Your eyes widened and you quckily sat up and wrapped your arms around his neck. A tear slowly falling down your cheek. “Be careful now, love.” He chuckled, his arm wrapping around your back while the other laid atop your belly.

How long has he been sitting there? Why didn’t he wake me up?

You didn’t bother to ask. All that mattered was that he’s here. In front of you. You didn’t move an inch, still relishing his warm embrace. He kissed your forehead and smiled, “Whats wrong?” He heard a sniff come from you. “Petal? Love? Y/n?”

“Shut up.” You choked. “And don’t call me by my name.” You added. He chuckled, “Yare, where’s my wife? am I in the wrong house?” He asked, still embracing you. You giggled. You didn’t expect to see your husband. He’s full of surprises, in fact. And, it never gets old. “I still don’t see my wife? Where is she?” He looked around playfully. You lifted your head and smiled softly. However, you noticed an eyepatch covering his right eye.

“Shunsui.” You spoke, looking concerned. “Oh! There’s my beautiful flower.” He grinned. “Shun- what happened to your eye?” You asked, raising your hand to lift the material. He gently held your hand and kissed it. “No greeting kiss?” He pouts. “Shun’, be serious.” A long sigh left his lips, “my petal is so mean.” His brown orb looked at yours; it looked like he was holding back something. “Maa. A lot has happened, my love.” He said lowly, ignoring your question.

You lifted the soft fabric anyway. He let you. And your heart skipped a beat. You eyes grew watery as your fingers brushed the surface. Shunsui watched you in worry and spoke, “Let’s not talk about it.” Your eyes looked to his left one, “No. shunsui you’re - “

“It’s okay~ petal.” He sounded cheerful, smiling as he held your dainty hand. “I’m here! Too see my lovely wife.” You still looked concerned, “Okay. Okay. I’ll tell you about it later. But, let’s talks about my~~…promotion!”

“Eh?” You brows lifted. “What? Promoted? During this time?” You didn’t expect this. Not at all. There’s people dying.

“But first, I still want a kiss from you, petal.”

You sighed. He can be so needy sometimes. He leaned forward to you, your hands on his shoulders, both lips softly embraced each other.

There’s my wife.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After he told you what happened to Head captain Yamamoto and meeting ichigo’s friends, shunsui wanted to know how you’ve been feeling lately, since your are pregnant.

“She’s fine. She just needs to rest a little… and kick less often. But now that you’re here, she’s happy.” You smiled at your round belly, patting it gently. “I’m glad you and our daughter are safe, petal. And also…” his eye lowered to your breasts.

They’ve gotten bigger in recent months. Pregnancy has made changes to your body in recent months. You’ve gotten plump, bright and lovely. You’re literally glowing.

You’ve gotten even more beautiful. He thought to himself. “Have I ever told you that you look beautiful, petal?” his eye still staring at your breasts, looking at your nipples poking through your kimono. “Don’t make me poke your eye out, shunsui.” You caught him ogling; making you blush with a pout on your face. “Please don’t. this is the only one I have left, honey.” He said, leaning to your chest to leave kisses down the middle of it. And, getting a peek of your globes under the satiny fabric. “They’ve gotten bigger, petal.” He smiled, kissing near your covered breast.

You felt the warm exhales from his nose as he continued leaving kisses. He raised his head and said, “Hmmm. I think my flower needs some attention.” He suggested, his hand sneaking under the fabric. You watched his hand move - brushing them side to side, gently. And then groping them. His hand feels so warm as he did it. Soon after, shunsui pulled open the fabric to either side - revealing your enlarged breasts. You heard a throaty groan from him. “Yare, yare.” He sighed, brushing his fingers across your large nipples. You whimpered when he gently tugged them with his thumb and middle finger. “So pretty.” He praised you,

“Shun-.” You gasped when he lowered his head and sucked your right nipple with so much want. The lewd sucking sounds making your breathe heavily, feeling his soft lips wrap around your nipple with enough pressure while his tongue licked it passionately. “Ahhh.” You voice trembled, feeling the warm appendage circle your nipples while his mouth covered was wrapped around it. “Mmm.” You moaned, squirming and placing your hand behind his head, caressing his wavy hair and down to his ponytail.

Shunsui broke away from your nipple, rubbing it against his thumb. “Look at how hard it’s become, petal.” All you could do was stare at his ministrations, shy to look at him. “You’re so beautiful, my love.” He cooed, leaning closer to your face and wrapping his lips with yours. His index fingers flicked your nipples while he kissed you deeply.

Lips smacking softly against each other, Your felt arousal soak your covered pussy. His thick tongue deep in your mouth, dancing with yours. You both heard the wet sounds from the tongue kisses. “Ahh.” You breathed out, circling your tongue in tandem with his. Shunsui slid his hand down to rub your round belly and caressed it for a moment until he went further down to your panties.

“Mn.” You quivered when he spread your legs apart and rubbed your covered clit with his middle finger. “You’re wet down there, petal.” He grinned, looking at how hazy you looked.

So beautiful. He hummed as he leaned over to see his ministrations. He saw a big wet patch on your covered panties. His finger flicked your covered clit up and down, slowly. Getting roused up, you watched how focused he looked. After a while, he raised your legs raised both of your legs, both feet sitting on the bed, and spread them further apart. You gasped and said, “I feel like I’m going into labor like this, love.” You giggled, laying your hands atop your belly.

He chuckled, “now that would be an interesting experience that I’d live to help you with.” You smiled softly at him. You breathed in deeply when he pulled your panties to the side, feeling the cool air brush your pussy. “But, let me make my lovely flower feel good first.” He added, dipping his finger into his mouth and bringing it down to rub your folds in circles. Your breathless moans rang in his ears as he moved it up to circle your clit. He looked up and saw how needy you look.

It’s been a while since you last had sex with him. With your belly in the way, it became a bit troublesome for you. But, shunsui made you feel good with no problem; making love to you in the best ways possible. Even when you’re above him. He moved over to your side again and kissed your lips softly - while he rubbed your pussy. You managed to roll your hips around his fingers, throbbing whenever his fingertips rubbed your clit. “Mm.” You moaned into the kisses. Soon after, the squelching sounds filled the room; your warm arousal covering his fingers - making it easy to slide two of them inside of your needy cunt.

The hot and passionate kisses made you very needy. You grounded your hips whenever he thrusted them into your core; rubbing your g-spot, gently. “Here?” He whispered, his fingers stroking your plush walls and hitting that spot over and over. You nodded, lifting your left leg and resting your heel on the windowsill. He hummed, stroking your inner thigh with his other hand.

You squirmed relentlessly. Your moans quivering with anticipation. Feeling the much needed pleasure from the work of his fingers strumming your plush walls. “Ah. Shun-.” you hissed, bucking your hips up. He hummed and lowered his head to suck your enlarged nipples again.

your gasps rang in his ears. His thumb rubbed yours clit in circles while his fingers bent inside to caress your plush walls - making you feel the fluttering sensation flow through your body, shivering from head to toe. “Oooh” you quivered feeling close to your release. He pushed his thumb down - applying a bit more pressure on your clit. Your walls begin to tremble. Squeezing the two digits inside your cunt. “That’s it, Petal.” Thrusting his fingers into your cunt quickly. Your arousal dripping onto the white sheets.

The squelching sounds of your arousal filled his and your ears; pushing your head back against the pillow and grunting in satisfaction. Shunsui watched you fall apart. “Ah!” You squirmed, trembling on his fingers, your hips jolting while he kept going. “Ugh!” You whimpered, twitching while you rode the last sparks of your orgasm to cool down.

Breathing heavily, shunsui wiped the sweat off your forehead and leaned closer to kiss you deeply. He pulled his fingers out and rubbed your folds with his fingers covered with your arousal. You moaned in the passionate kiss. Rolling your hips around his fingertips - your clit throbbing to the sensation as you cooled down. “Yare, Yare. Petal.” He broke the kiss, smiling as he helped you cool down by rubbing your clit as well.

You stopped rolling your hips. feeling completely putty satisfied, and you looked up at him. your lifted tour dainty to stroke his bristled cheek and then leaving it there. “I really miss you, shunsui.” You spoke softly, your fingertips gently scratching the bristly hair on his face. Your dowey eyes leaves him speechless before he lets out a sigh. “Hang on for a little while. until I come back to you, petal.” He lowered his eye, trying not to appear sad but you know how he’s feeling.

Not wanting to dive any further, you slowly sat upright. Leaning on him, the other hand caressing his right cheek. You moved up close to him and kissed his both of eyes, nose and then his soft lips. “Come back safely, love.” You spoke softly, looking at him deeply.

“Maa. My wife…what happened to her?” He chuckled. You still look at him deeply. You really mean it.

“Yes. Yes.” He smiled. “I want a kiss before I leave my lovely flower, first.” He puckered his lips.

You giggled as your lips gladly met his, lovingly.

Kick

You broke the kiss and looked down. Shunsui whined.

“She wants a proper goodbye from her Father too, Shun.” You rubbed your round belly. He hummed and laid his hand over yours and leaned over to kiss your covered bump.

He chuckled, “Don’t worry, your dad will be back soon.”

End.

#this was so cute #shunsui bleach #shunsui kyoraku #shunsui x you #shunsui x y/n #shunsui x reader #shunsui smut #shunsui kyoraku x reader #bleach #bleach imagines #bleach fandom #bleach x reader #bleach x female reader #bleach x you #bleach tybw #bleach smut #bleach scenarios #bleach shunsui #bleach fluff

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drewstarkeyslut · 3 months

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Can you do a sfw sweet tooth rotting fluff on an sensory overstimulated reader at a party and she's fidgeting and he notices so they leave the party and he takes her out to eat and watch the stars on the back of his truck😍

NOTHING ELSE MATTERS☁︎

No warnings - Just non canon fluffy Rafe.

To the anon that requested, if you see this— i’m so sorry it took so long, it took a while for it to process in my mind bc things weren't coming to me right away, so if it feels rushed, so sorry! this is my first time writing fluff ever, and wasn’t sure how to write out the overstim/fidgeting…hopefully it’s not terrible🥺

Rafe somehow talked to you into going to Top’s house party tonight. It definitely was the little smirk and the pouty lips he gave you.

“Come on y/n baby, pleaseee go for me? I promise we won’t stay long. It’s just that I already promised Top months ago that I would go. I’d really love for you to come with me” Rafe practically begged.

You thought about it for a moment. I mean it was Rafe… and you would literally do anything for him.

“Fiiiiiine babe, you win. I’ll go, for you. Pick me up at 8?” you cave in.

It was exactly 8pm on the dot when Rafe came to pick you up. He couldn’t keep his eyes off of you. You actually took the time to do your makeup and dress up for tonight. “You look absolutely beautiful” Rafe stammered as he opened the door of his truck to let you in. "Why thank you handsome, you don't look too bad yourself" you tease, giving him a little wink.

It had been 2 hours in, you were sitting on the couch with a red solo cup in your hand just watching people having the time of their lives. Instead of socializing like everyone else, you were too busy thinking about how the music was too loud and how there were way too many people for your liking.

You were a huge introvert and weren’t typically used to this type of setting but you did it for Rafe, who was currently talking to Kelce and Top. Although he wasn't right next to you the whole night, he made sure to stay nearby just in case you needed him. Rafe was known to be protective, always had to have eyes on you at all times.

A few minutes pass by, starting to feel more anxious from all the thoughts clouding your mind which make you fidget without even realizing it. You briskly tap your foot and you're shifting in your seat, reapetedly. Overall, getting more uncomfortable as the time passes.

Rafe took notice of your constant tapping and shifting. He knew right then and there that his girl was feeling anxious and a bit overstimulated. He knew it was time to go.

"Hey baby, are you alright? Come on let's get you out of here, yeah?" Rafe insists, planting a kiss on your forehead.

"Are you sure babe? I just...feel bad because you'd be leaving so early. I think I can wait it out a little more" you lie but Rafe knows you too well.

"Y/n, just stop. You can't lie to me princess. I know you and I care about you. Now let's get out of here, it was getting boring anyways. I'd rather spend some quality time with my girl" Rafe spoke with confidence.

"Thanks babe. You're the best you know that? Also, is it okay if we get something to eat on the way home?" you ask with that sweet smile that Rafe just adores.

"Of course, anything for you. How about....we go to The Wreck then go to our favorite spot to watch the stars? That sound good? Hmmm?" he grins knowing the answer to his question.

"Omg Rafe! We haven't done that in a while. Yes, yes, yes please! It's like you read my mind babe." you exclaim.

You and Rafe leave after saying bye to Top and Kelce, now heading towards the Wreck.

Thankfully there was no wait tonight. You both got the same thing as always and just shared. It was like a ritual every time you came to The Wreck. You ended up talking about anything and everything until you both were ready to get a move on.

It was just so easy with him. You were so comfortable and felt safe, you couldn't see yourself with anyone else, completely smitten. As for Rafe, he never felt that way about anyone until you entered his life and changed everything. He never knew what love was until you became his.

You were so deep in thought that you didn't even realize that you arrived at the beach. It was honestly one of the best spots to lay back and stargaze. You and Rafe came quite often ending date nights here, and that's why it became your favorite places. Rafe always kept a blanket and two pillows in the back seat of his truck for spontaneous moments like this. Everything about it was so romantic.

He makes sure to open the door for you to get out and hold your hand making sure you get onto the bed of the truck safely before getting on himself.

"Thank you for this Rafe. Truly. I think I really needed this, especially tonight" you spoke as you cuddled up next to him.

"Like I said, anything for my girl. Oh and I also wanted to thank you for coming out tonight. I know going to parties isn't your thing so I appreciate you staying as long as you did." Rafe murmurs.

You cherish this moment, looking up at Rafe, your head resting on his lap and his arm is wrapped around you. There was something about the way he looked up at the night sky admiring the stars that gave you butterflies. It was definitely a sight to see and you wanted nothing but to be in this moment with Rafe, nothing else mattered.

You couldn't help yourself as you sit up swiftly and grab his face turning his head towards you. Rafe, completely caught off guard looks at you with those alluring eyes and you swear you fall in love all over again.

You both end up going in for a kiss at the same time. Rafe slipping his tongue in your mouth, catching you by surprise. You two were devouring each other for what seemed like hours until you both pull away, gasping for air.

"I love you Rafe Cameron"

"And I love you Y/N Y/LN, so fucking much, more than you’ll ever know."

#anon✨#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron prompt #rafe cameron blurb #rafe cameron drabble #rafe cameron one shot

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embrosegraves · 3 months

Text

𝔽𝕒𝕞𝕚𝕝𝕪 ℝ𝕒𝕔𝕖 𝔻𝕒𝕪

(request) Fernando Alonso x Reader Fernando helps the reader’s daughter to be brave. “Booping noses” and “Hand kisses”

Warnings: Google translated Spanish (i'm trying to learn the language but for now, Google.)

Race day for most people would mean complete chaos, it was no different for the Alonsos.

Even before you had met Fernando all those years ago, your whole life had been chaos incarnate. From working your ass off, to dating a Formula One driver, and even introducing said driver to your family (which included introducing him to your young daughter, Marta). It was safe to say that you were very familiar with chaos.

Which is why you were so surprised to find that Marta, at a very grown up 7 years old, was being so calm. This wasn’t her first time at a race, but it was her first time not going berserk at everything around her. Usually she would be running this way and that, trying to get the attention of every driver that passed you both. Some of them tried to talk with her, but they usually struggled as no matter how much English you taught her, Marta always forgot that not everyone spoke Spanish.

But that wasn’t the case today. Not one bit. You would have been more worried about it if not for the strong grip she had on your hand. Walking over to the Aston Martin hospitality building, you gently guided her to a table near the back. You knew that children often got embarrassed when asked particular questions, so you did your best to find a table that had a bit of privacy.

“¿Qué pasa Pequeña? Do you feel okay?” You squeezed her hand gently, trying to give her a bit of comfort and encouragement. [What’s wrong Little One?]

“Estoy nerviosa para más tarde.” She whispered. Giving her a good look over, you could see on her face and in her eyes that she was a little anxious. A part of your heart broke because you hadn’t noticed sooner. [I’m nervous for later.]

“¿Se trata de estar en el garaje?” You were almost certain it was. Marta had never watched a race from inside the garage before, usually you would watch from the hospitality. Marta nodded, the charms on her pigtails jingling as they went. [Is this about being in the garage?]

“We can stay here for a bit if you want, but do you think it might help if we talk to Fernando? He might be able to help you be brave.” It was almost a sure fire way to get her to do anything. As soon as Fernando’s name was mentioned in any conversation, Marta would latch on and engage in whatever was being spoken about for hours.

“Mamá, ¿crees que Fernando alguna vez se asusta?” It broke your heart to hear her voice tremble. Normally, if you asked a question in English, you would encourage her to answer in English as well, but given the situation, you didn’t try to correct her. [Mummy, do you think Fernando ever gets scared?]

“I know he gets scared sometimes. Even Mamá gets scared. But you know what helps?” she shook her head. “Hugs from your favourite person. Getting a hug can help you feel brave enough to do the things you're scared about.”

“¿Puedo abrazar a Fernando?” [Can I hug Fernando?]

“Of course you can Mija. Should we go find him?”

Marta nodded and got up from her chair, still holding your hand tightly. You quickly made the short walk over to the garage, showing your passes to the security standing outside. Once inside, you made your way to Fernando’s side to see him sitting down with a book in his hands. You weren’t expecting him to notice you over all the noise of the garage, but as soon as you started walking towards him, he looked up and right at you both. He started smiling before seeing just how scared Marta looked to be in the garage.

Fernando didn’t even mark his page before he put the book down. He stood up and gave you a sweet kiss before crouching down to be the same height as Marta, who was now clutching tightly to your leg.

“What’s the matter, Mija?” Fernando had spoken the question to Marta but he was looking at you.

“She’s just a bit scared to be watching from the garage today.”

“Ah.” Fernando gently unlatched Marta’s hands from your leg and held them both in his. Now that she was facing him, he tugged her a little bit closer to him. “Do you know what helps me feel less scared?”

“Mamá said a hug helps.” You almost couldn’t hear her over the noise from the mechanics.

“Your Mamá is a very smart woman, Marta.” You couldn’t help a small smile from appearing. “Can I give you a hug?”

Marta didn’t answer. She just wrapped her arms around Fernando tightly and buried her face into his neck. Fernando wrapped his arms around her just as tight. He made sure he had a firm grip on her before he stood up. He started swaying and whispering to Marta in Spanish. You were forever thankful that you had met Fernando when you did. You had no idea how you would’ve raised Marta by yourself.

Fernando didn’t let go of Marta until he was told that he needed to start getting ready to be in the car. He gently nudged her and asked if she wanted to help him. Marta was feeling a lot better, if the way she enthusiastically nodded her head indicated anything. Fernando gently put Marta back on the ground and led her over to where his things were. She helped him put his gloves and balaclava on, quickly getting another hug before he put on his helmet.

“Do you think you can be brave enough to look after your Mamá?” Fernando asked her, his visor still up. Marta had a serious look on her face.

“I can do it.” Her serious look was gone the moment Fernando booped her nose. Right before Fernando moved to get in the car, Marta reached up and flicked down his visor and then booped the helmet where his nose would be. Fernando gave her a fist bump and then finally got into the car for the race.

Fernando had ended up finishing in P4, only just missing out on the podium. You were originally going to wait in the garage for him to come back after the race, but Marta had decided that it would be easier to look after you if you were in the hospitality. You had texted Fernando to go there after the debrief so he wouldn’t spend ages trying to find you. Soon enough, Fernando was walking towards you, no longer in his racing suit. Before he could even greet you, Marta had started barrelling towards him. Fernando had crouched down in his spot so that she could hug him easier.

“I did it! I did it! I was being brave like you and I took care of Mamá, just like you said!”

“You did an amazing job, Mija. I’m so proud of you!” Fernando’s arms were wrapped around her tightly.

Getting up from your seat, your heart swelled with love at your boyfriend and daughter. Walking over to them, you held your hand out for Fernando to take.

“You did so well, Mi Amor. You drove brilliantly.”

Fernando brought your hand to his lips and kissed it. That one kiss telling you everything you needed to know. That he loved you and your daughter. That no matter what happened he would always be there to help you with anything you needed.

He kissed your hand again before standing up. Settling Marta on his back, he began leading you to the car that would take you all to the hotel to finally rest after the busy day.

So to be completely honest, I had this basically all finished, but then some shit happened (non F1 related) and it may have taken me a while, but i finally got it done

Also, I'm sure you noticed that I took a bit of inspiration from KMag and his daughter. The clip of her helping her dad get ready for a race is just so cute!

I hope you enjoyed!

As usual likes, replies and reblogs are always appreciated

#formula 1 x you #f1 x reader #f1 fluff #formula one #fernando alonso x y/n #fernando alonso x reader #fernando alonso #formula 1 #fernando alonso fluff #fernando alonso imagine #fernando alonso fic #f1 blurb #fa14

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cyankeiya · 3 months

Text

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x Pregnant! Fem Reader

Words: 2.9K+

Fandom: Spider-Man: Across the Spiderverse

Cw: 18+ ONLY!!! Pregnancy/labor/birth material, waterbreaking, unassisted birth, explicit birth, orgasmic birth

A/N: I started this fic in early September 2023 during my Miguel O’Hara fixation. I had it in my Google docs as a draft, I went back and revised/added to it so it can be put here.

---

It was when you felt the cramping pains of the first contraction that you couldn’t deny it anymore…you knew you had to give birth soon.

You started experiencing feelings of nausea in the afternoon while Miguel, your husband, and the baby’s father, was out. That nausea was followed by aching pains felt in your lower back which then traveled to your pelvis. In the meantime, you’d finished the chores and tasks needing to be done in the apartment - anything that could distract you from the progressing labor.

But now that everything is finished for the day, you can’t help but focus on the pain that came with the moments leading up to your baby’s birth. Miguel wasn’t going to be home until the evening.

You walk around the living room, riding out those incoming contractions. Another intense contraction hit, around 15 minutes from the last one, followed by an immense pressure in your belly. God, this was not comfortable at all. In fact, you hadn’t exactly recalled what “comfortable” felt like for some time now. Particularly during the third trimester of your pregnancy, something would always ache or swell. It was hard to breath and find a comfortable position to sit or lie down. But now what was to come in this part of your pregnancy journey was going to be very much agonizing.

“Just a little longer, okay?” You speak softly to your baby who is kicking you hard. “Daddy’s not home yet.”

6:00pm arrived. Miguel still wasn’t home. You’re still in the living room, you’ve moved yourself to laying on your back on the couch, groaning and breathing, panting out through each contraction. You switch positions constantly, from laying on your back to your sides, or turning around and sprawling out with your front leaning over the cushions, anything to get somewhat comfortable. You rub your belly, trying to apply any sort of massaging pressure to your physical aches.

Ever since you found out you were expecting, Miguel had been very attentive and caring towards you and your soon-to-be born baby. He’s been amazing during this whole pregnancy journey. Just the thought of Miguel being here with you, holding you and caring for you through the moments through your agonizing labor has you excited but also anxious about him being able to make it in time before your labor progresses much further.

You take a deep breath and try to relax. You decide you’re gonna get through this, just need to wait a little longer.

A few agonizing moments later, you hear the doorknob click in the distant hallway. You struggle to sit up from your position, anticipating Miguel entering through the door. You get yourself up off of the couch to move behind it, leaning forward and pressing your hands on the back of the couch. A sense of relief washes over you as you see that it’s him walking through the door.

Miguel shuts the front door behind him and gets himself settled into the house as he walks towards the living room. He sees you leaning behind the couch, hunched over.

“Querida, what are you–” Miguel finds himself cut off as you rush to embrace him. He hugs you back, and just the feeling of him returning your touch sends you over the edge. You lean into him to press your lips against his.

“Miguel, you’re here.” You breathe, leaning into him for a kiss for some moment of time before you pull away to let out a low groan as the pressure in your belly accumulates in your pelvis. The sounds of pain you emit from your lips alerts him, and he turns to look at you with worry.

“What’s wrong? Everything alright, sweetheart?” He asks, his concern present in his voice. He brushes your cheek with his hand, cupping it with his palm.

You shut your eyes and shake your head. “The baby’s coming.”

His eyes widen. “What? Did your water break?”

“No, but I’ve been having contractions since this afternoon. They’re like…12 minutes or so apart now?” Your breath is becoming more labored as you talk.

Miguel holds his hands to the sides of your heaving belly, he looks down at your very large bump where yours and his baby was, so eager to be born. Miguel smiles before looking back up at you. “Why didn’t you call me earlier?”

“I’m sorry, I just thought I could hold it out until you came home. If you were gonna be out for much longer I would’ve definitely tried to reach you.”

“Well, I’m here now, so we’ll just get you to the room.”

“Okay, let’s just – hhhrrrrggghhhh!! ” Your words are cut off by your own groan of pain as another feeling of immense pressure rips through your pelvis. You grab onto Miguel’s arms in response, trying to hold yourself together in all the intense pain you were feeling all of a sudden. Just then you feel a pop inside of you, and a gush of fluid pours out onto the floor right beneath you.

Miguel looks down at the puddle under your feet, then back up at you, his hands at your sides to make sure you don’t fall.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” You plead.

“No no, it’s okay, it’s gonna be okay. Can you walk?” He asks.

“Mhm, yeah.” You nod.

He keeps his hands holding you close as you walk to the bedroom, then into the adjacent connected bathroom. You’ve stripped yourself of your soaked shorts, and you’re only in your underwear and one of Miguel’s large t-shirts he let you wear whenever you wanted.

He has you both standing in the front of the bathroom mirror, laying your back against the front of his body. Miguel took his work clothes off too and now was just in his briefs and a base-layer t-shirt. He’s big and strong and muscular…just drop-dead sexy; just the sight of him actually manages to distract you from your labor pains which makes them somewhat more bearable.

More loud groans leave your lips during the contractions. Slow, deep breaths, you remind yourself. Miguel keeps his hands holding underneath the swell of your belly, pressing his hands slightly upward against the gravity that was pulling down on your body.

“That’s it, baby, breathe just like that.” He tells you.

“Mmmhmmm…” You respond, you just lean your head back against his shoulder and huff out a slow breath.

“You’re doing so good, querida…you’re so, so beautiful…” He whispers with a smile, kissing your head through your hair.

“Tell that to yourself, handsome.” You smirk. He chuckles in response.

“Let me know what you need.” He said.

You needed this, needed him to hold you like this. “Can I get into the tub?”

“Of course.”

Miguel fills the tub with warm water, you strip yourself of your underwear and shirt. You step inside the tub and sink yourself in. The water alleviates some of the gravitational pressure off of your belly, its warmth provides some relief to your aches.

He kneels on the floor outside of the bathtub, squeezing your hand while holding your head with his other hand.

You have another contraction 8 minutes from the last one, you tuck your chin to your chest and groan out. Your groaning melts into soft whimpers. Miguel leans in closer to you from outside of the tub, pressing his forehead to yours.

“Ohhhhhh…Miguel…!” You whine as the strong contraction passes over you. “Hooohhhhhh…”

“Breathe,” He speaks softly. “I got you.”

You slow your breathing down. Breathe in, breathe out, you remind yourself, though you can’t help but continue to let out groans of pain. Miguel whispers in your ear words of sweet encouragement. You can do this, you have Miguel with you.

You stay in the bathtub, waiting out more contractions until the water becomes lukewarm. You drain the tub, and Miguel helps you get out and dry you down with a towel. Another contraction comes in at 6 minutes, and you let out a breathy moan of pain. Miguel holds you close, shushing you gently and assuring you’re going to be okay.

You both walk over to the bed you share. You lay your towel on the mattress and get yourself sitting on top of it while Miguel props up the pillows for you. You lean your sore back against the pillows, trying to get yourself into a position that feels at least decently comfortable. God, you needed this, just to rest for a moment before giving birth. Miguel climbs into bed and lays next to you, holding you close in his strong arms.

“Is the room warm enough for you?” He asks.

“Mhm, yes.” You nod.

“Do you need water?”

“I could use a drink, sure.”

Miguel takes the plastic bottle of water on the nightstand, opening it and raising the bottle to your lips for you to take slow sips. He puts the bottle away to focus his attention on you.

Another intense contraction hits you, causing you to whimper softly in desperation and hold your hand to your bump. Your breathing becomes labored again as the contraction passes. You grip on the back of Miguel’s t-shirt in desperation, and tears stream in your eyes. “Oh god, it hurts…I need to push…”

Miguel reaches his hand out where your hand is placed, rubbing gentle circles at the taut skin of your swollen and aching belly. He kisses your forehead. “I know, baby, I know. But you’re not there yet.”

You groan in agony and melt into a sob. “I’m done…I’m so done with this…”

Miguel reached his hand to your tear-soaked cheek, cupping it wiping your tears with his thumb before stroking the side of your hair.

“You’re almost there, cariño.” He says, voice gentle, sorrowful for the state he put you in, and excited at the same time for what was to come. “You have me here with you. Just keep breathing, I got you.”

You manage an exhausted smile. “I love you, Mig.” You breathe.

“I love you too.” He smiled. “Let me take care of you.” He plants another soft kiss on your forehead. He puts his hand back onto your belly, leaning over to kiss it. Miguel’s lips are soft and warm against the taut skin of your bump.

You run your fingers through his dark locks. When he moves himself up closer to your face, you shift your hands behind his broad shoulders. “Thank you, Miguel, you’re so amazing.” You breathe.

“Anything for you, sweetheart. I love you.”

“I love you.” You crash your lips into his, multiple times. Your kisses become desperate as you can feel your labor progressing further to the point of a strong urge to push.

Through this next part of the labor leading up to the delivery, your mind constantly switches focus between the pain and Miguel’s presence. You cling to him, cry out to him as a searing pain cuts through between your legs.

“Hey, hey, I’m here, baby, tell me what you need.” Miguel says.

You place your hands at the sides of his dark locks. “I need to pushhhh....” You huff through your teeth.

“I’ll check you.” He looks at your crotch and examines your dilation. “You’re ready, we’ll get you pushing here.”

“Okay, good, okay.” You pant.

“Get up and hold onto me.” Miguel reaches his hand to your back and helps you upward. You find yourself struggling to get up when your large belly is in the way. You sit up on your knees and wrap your arms around and above Miguel’s neck and shoulders. He places his hands at the sides of your heavy belly. You groan out through another contraction, and Miguel feels the cramping muscle movements in your belly against his palms.

“On the count of three,” Miguel instructs. “One…two…three…push…”

With that you push your first push, groaning out through the force you exert. Fuck, it’s happening, you’re giving birth. You spread your legs further apart on the mattress. Your contractions are coming in very close to each other now. You keep your arms wrapped around Miguel and continue to push through the cramping pains.

“That’s it. Push just like that, sweetheart.” He tells you.

“Can you see anything?” You wince.

“You’re bulging, I don’t see any hair yet.”

A bit frustrated, you grunt loudly through another push. You gasp for breath, you feel the gravity pulling down on you from your belly, and your breaths become irregular.

“Breathe. Pant out, pant it out.” Miguel instructs.

You pant accordingly. Your breathing is not too rapid, but they are quick and deep. You let out a moan, spreading your shaky legs wider. You hug Miguel tighter as your crotch begins to burn as you’re crowning.

“I can’t do this…I can’t…” You shake your head, sobbing. “Miguel, it burns!”

“I know it’s hard, baby.” Miguel says as he rubs your back. He kisses your cheek a couple times. “See if you can focus on your breathing and let the head move down on its own.”

“Okay…” You agree. You focus on your breathing accordingly, slow deep breaths. The next contraction comes in, and you adjust your hips. You groan out as you push, and you can feel the baby’s head inch further out, but it’s still painful.

“Ooohhhh, it hurts!” You cry out as a searing pain overtakes your strained crotch, and grip onto Miguel’s back in response. You’re sobbing and sweating profusely, struggling to give birth as the baby’s crowning head begins to feel stuck. “Mig, I need you.”

“I'm here. Just tell me what to do, honey.”

“I need you to touch me.”

“Okay,” Miguel nods. You immediately make eye contact with him, his dark brown eyes are soft as they gaze directly at you. He holds his fingers to your crotch. “Look at me, cariño, Let me relax you.”

You nod and lock your eyes on Miguel’s. He begins to rub his rough fingers against your labia, kissing your tear-soaked cheek gently as he stimulates your sensitive pussy.

“Does this feel good?” He asks.

“Yes~” You moan out with each stroke of his fingers, and you feel your opening relax with each touch. You whine out as you cum, the release just completely fogging your mind in a haze of pleasure. As you come back from the fogged state of your mind, you take a deep breath and you push again, this time the baby’s head slides out with more ease.

“Oh god, here it comes…” You huff. “Pushing feels so gooddddd…”

“That's wonderful. You’re doing so well.” Miguel assures as he cups your baby’s head in his palm. “Baby’s coming along. I see some hair.”

“Yes…baby’s coming…” You nod, panting out shaky moans as you continue to push the shoulders out with more force. Your groans become louder, you cling to Miguel tighter as you feel your knees weaken and tremble. Breathe, you tell yourself, as another contraction drives you to push down harder through the tightness in your crotch. The feeling of your baby’s shoulders being pushed freed from your body makes you gasp in overwhelm.

“There you go, that’s my girl.” Miguel encourages you as he nuzzles his face into your neck. The soft kisses he plants on your neck make you shiver and you exhale out a laugh. You’re sore, tired, and drenched in sweat. But Miguel looks so good right now, holding you close in his strong arms and never losing his focus from you, his beautiful, gorgeous, birthing wife.

“Miguel…” You pant.

“I’m here, sweetheart.” Miguel assures you.

“How much longer?”

“You pushed out the shoulders, just push a few more times and the baby will be here.”

“Okay, okay…” You spread your legs further. You take a deep breath as you anticipate another contraction coming along. Breathe and push, like you’ve been doing.

“Baby’s coming along further.” He says. Keep going.”

“Oh god…oh god…!!” You whine desperately.

“Breathe, pant it out,” Miguel says. “I’m still here.”

You nod and pant through this hard push. “Get it out…GET IT OUT!!!” You scream.

“You’re almost there, keep holding onto me.”

This is it, the last stretch before you can welcome your baby into the world. You sob and scream louder as you push harder. Miguel’s hand is cupping the baby’s head as you exert a large push of more force. Miguel’s words of praise and encouragement are so soft in your ear.

“I love you so much, sweetheart,” Miguel tells you as you continue to push down through the contractions. He kisses your tear-soaked cheek again. “You’re doing so beautifully.”

“Oh my god…oh my god…Miguel…” You repeat through heavy breaths. “Miguel, please help me…”

“I’m here, I still got you. Keep pushing, you’re doing so good.” Miguel tells you. His focus is all on you in this last stretch.

You press your hand to your thigh and scream louder through the push. “OOOOOHHHHHH!!!”

“You got it baby…PUSH!!!” He continues to hold and support you. “Keep pushing, just like that!”

“MIGUEL, IT’S COMING!!!” You push and yell and push, until you feel a massive gush of fluid flow out of you. You catch your breath and look down, and see Miguel’s hand holding the squirming baby which has been completely freed from your body. It’s over.

Miguel lifts the crying newborn for you to hold in your arms. “Oh my baby, there you are.” You cup your baby's head close to your chest, and you gasp and sob out of joy and relief. “Miguel, we did it.”

Miguel wraps his other arm around you and brings you and your baby you’re holding closer to him. He smiles with a visible tear of emotion in his eye, and plants a soft kiss on your forehead. “I’m so happy.” He sighs.

#birth fiction #birth kink #giving birth #labor #labor kink #in labor #pushing #pregnancy kink #preg kink #fpreg #pregnant reader

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cal-flakes · 10 months

Text

╰┈➤ reunited with rafe

warnings: kinda angsty i guess?

summary: childhood friends turned enemies find themselves in a sticky situation.

a crybaby. that’s what he always called her. whether she had scraped her knees in the garden with sarah when she was seven, or the book she was reading had a sad ending, y/n was a crybaby. but oh, how he hated it when she cried, more so when he was the one who caused it.

y/n always had a rocky relationship with her bestfriends brother, he hated her, or so she thought. never quite catching the twinkle in his eye whenever she was around. god forbid she ever noticed, from the age of nine, rafe cameron went to great lengths to hide the truth.

he made y/n’s life hell from the moment they met at her and sarah’s first sleepover, until the day her and her friends escaped the boat to guadeloupe. she wondered still, what stopped him from unloading on their lifeboat, but he knew the answer to that very well.

the pogues shared anxious glances as they were rescued from the unknown island, now poguelandia. something didn’t feel right, and they all knew it.

“he’s working for my dad. they’ve probably been looking for us this whole time!” sarah cried, holding back a nervous sob. y/n nodded as she drew circles arm, like when they were kids. “she’s right, search the plane, there might be clues..” poor whispered, a brief nod to john b and everyone was on the same page.

the crew scavenged the back of the plane, looking for anything that would tell them who this man was while john b distracted the pilot.

sarah grabbed a photograph out of jj’s hand, staring at it in horror. “the coastal venture, oh my god” she breathed.

bickering ensued as the pogues came up with their own ideas on what to do. john b did his best to keep the pilot talking until he spotted jj putting a book back into his bag, reaching round to grab at him. before they knew it, they were going down, and fast.

landing with a crash, the plane filled up with water as the pogues struggled their way out. It was all happening so fast, none of them took a moment to notice y/n’s foot was trapped in some netting. “guys!” she shrieked to no avail. flailing furiously to untangle her foot.

pushing the net away from her as if it had attacked her, she fled the plane, swimming across to shore, only to find her friends weren’t there.

she didn’t have a chance to catch her breath before guards stormed her, coming from all directions. y/n took off running, hiding between trees and boats before she was grabbed from behind.

y/n continued screaming for her friends to help her when she was placed in the back of a truck.

arrival at her destination was less than pleasant as a large man dragged her upstairs to a room and pushed her inside. turning back, she questioned the man, who refused to answer her questions.

after a couple hours of wracking her brain, she put the dress on which had been laid out for her. despite the situation, she took a moment to admire the way it hugged her curves beautifully, the red satin complimenting her olive skin.

“uh, excuse me?” she asked, noticing a man in the dining room of the house.

her face contorted when he turned around, as did his. meeting her eyes, it felt as though his heart had fallen into his stomach, he wasn’t sure he’d ever see her again.

“i knew it! i knew it was you, getting your little friend to ‘rescue us’, it’s always you!’ y/n snapped, unable to suppress the anger, which she had been holding onto for years.

“me? you’re the one trying to get in on my deal!” he spat back, his heart hurting.

“I wondered if your little reunion would cause sparks y’know” an unfamiliar voice appeared. the two shared a hateful look before turning towards it.

“it’s a pleasure to meet you mr cameron..” gesturing toward him before doing the same to the girl “and you, miss y/l/n, i apologise for the rough tactics in bringing you here..” the man bowed his head slightly, feigning regret.

furrowing his brows, rafe analysed the sentence, a familiar type of anger growing inside of him once again, having stayed dormant for a while.

“rough tactics? what about me?” rafe questioned sheepishly, struggling to suppress the thoughts of anyone but him laying a hand on her.

after a long conversation, both parties now held the information as to why they were there. denmark tanny’s diary, pope’s diary. y/n kept her cards close to her chest, denying all knowledge of the diary.

“i know one of you has the diary. once i have it, you’ll be free to leave” carlos stated, leaving an air of tension behind him as he left.

y/n stayed silent, avoiding rafe’s eyes, which she didn’t notice were inspecting her as she stared out of the window.

poking out through the open back of the dress, lay an angry purple bruise, looking further, he saw how it spread across the whole left side of her ribcage. rubbing his forehead, rafe struggled to find the words for a second.

“th-they did that to you? he stuttered, frustration clear on his face. the disgusted look on her face said it all, yet she prevailed. “why do you care? it’s not like you haven’t done worse.” she spat at him, all the memories of rafe’s brutality fresh in her mind.

holding his hand up “never to you i didn’t!” he remarked, as if that would change anything. “but to the people i love! you expect me to stand here and be happy to see you? after everything you did to us, to your own sister?” she wailed, her mind going back to her friends.

before she could wish them away, awful thoughts invaded her mind. she had no idea where her friends were, they could be dead for all she knew. biting his tongue, rafe looked up at her, seeing her big green eyes well up with tears just like they had that time in the garden.

“you are such a crybaby” he snapped, his sharp words cutting her just like they had done before.

#rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x fem!reader #dom!rafe #rafe cameron #outer banks #outerbanks rafe #obx #rafecameron #rafe obx

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thestoryofusstan · 4 months

Text

All I Want For Christmas Is You

part i

pairing: harry styles x fan!singer!reader

summary: harry shows up at your show twice. you're more excited the first time.

warnings: some cursing, some angst, nothing else really!

“happy christmas to you as well,” you answered.

you expected it to be awkward, stiff, forced — anything, really. anything but so alarmingly easy to talk to the same man you obsessed over for years.

i mean, your head was screaming and your insides were turning but on the outside, it was easy.

and the last thing — the last, the very, very last — thing you expected him to do was tug you over to the legendary anne twist and gemma styles.

“y/n, this is m’mum, anne, and m’sister gemma,” he introduced.

you gave what you hoped wasn’t (but knew was) an awkward smile and waved, “hi.”

gemma just threw herself up from the seat and hugged you, “it’s so good to meet you!”

she said that as if you’d known harry for more than fifteen minutes.

or, he’d known you. you knew at the very least of him for 8 years now.

“you too!” you responded, because it felt like the proper reaction.

anne pulled you into a hug as well, albeit far more calm than gemma.

“you did lovely, dear. you have a very nice voice.”

“thank you,” you blushed, even more so when you felt a ring-clad hand rest on your lower back.

“i’m gonna steal her away now. just thought i’d introduce you all.”

you honestly can’t remember what on earth you were so worried about. harry was easy to talk to, and he actually seemed interested in what you were saying. he payed for every little fruity drink you ordered.

and he ordered you so many — you ordered them, he tried to cut you off numerous times but you always swatted him away — that you said probably the stupidest thing ever when your friends mentioned heading out soon.

“d’you wanna come with us? we’ll probably go to jen’s and get blackout drunk,” you laugh.

and you… oh. well, you were just so cute when you asked. wide eyes, dilated pupils from three too many fruity drinks, and a hopeful smile that bordered on just a little anxious, that.. well, really, how could he say no?

“you are already well on your way to blackout drunk,” he teased.

“hey!” you smacked his arm, causing him to laugh and put his hands up in surrender. “and.. i mean, i suppose i can hang around for a bit,” he shrugged. “no harm, right?”

oh, how wrong he was. there was harm in it. so much, in fact. the two of you spent the whole night cuddled up together on jen’s couch until he noticed you falling asleep on him.

he excused the both of you and drove you home, which was a task in and of itself because you were so tired and drunk you didn’t understand what he was asking when he asked what your address was.

and then, when the two of you arrived, he made a comment about how unsafe the area was and how he felt bad leaving you in the house alone. made you promise to lock your doors all the time, and made another comment you almost didn’t catch.

“jus’ gonna have t’find you a better place. this won’t do, pet.”

and you, really, were just expecting his presence in your life to be a one and done thing. but it wasn’t. you woke up the next morning to a text from an unknown number.

Unknown

Had to go home to Mum and Gem, or else I’d have stayed with you in case you got sick. There’s Advil and water on your nightstand. Text me when you’re up. Happy Christmas, again.

H xx

and if you weren’t borderline obsessed with him before, you were now.

the two of you saw each other at least once a week after that. you went to his birthday party and everything. then, on valentines day, he asked you on a date. the two of you went on dates for all of february until he finally asked you to be his girlfriend.

and you said yes. so, you were his girlfriend.

he stayed true to his comment. he bought you a place in the heart of london. a very luxurious, expensive flat. went to all of your gigs like the supportive, doting boyfriend he is.

or.. was.

you dated until june. when he all of a sudden texted you some utter bullshit about ‘not being able to do this anymore’ and cut all contact. blocked your number and on all social medias— although, he didn’t block the secret fan accounts you never told him about which is the only way you knew a crumb of what was going on in his life.

you chose to not go to tabloids for that. they never told the truth, anyway.

the one thing he didn’t stop, though, was paying your rent. you almost wanted to buy your own place and abandon this one to spite him. but how could you?

he left you with the damn dog, too.

oh, that’s right.

the two of you adopted a small beagle in march, right after you moved in. named it sunflower, because he called you sunflower.

(he also found it hilarious that whenever he’d call ‘sunflower’, both of you would appear).

you didn’t even have the heart to rip down all the photos of the two of you throughout the apartment.

they just sat there, collecting dust.

when christmas rolled around again, it was safe to say you were heartbroken at best, depressed at worst.

you moped all day, even when you and your friends opened presents in your apartment.

“so… y/n..” jen spoke as you all were eating dinner.

“hm?” you hummed back.

“did you see what harry did?”

everyone froze.

harry was a sore subject, even six months after the break up.

you cleared your throat, going back to cutting your steal, “uh.. no. no, i didn’t. what?”

“he dropped an album called fine line—“

“oh, good for him, i guess,” you shrug.

“uh.. he.. he dropped it on your.. birthd.. day..” she let out slowly.

you dropped your utensils. “he did what now?”

“.. i’m sorry, i shouldn’t have said anything—“

“he left me— i woke up one morning, and he was just gone and all i get is some stupid fucking text about how he can’t do this anymore, and he pulls this shit? no. no, i’m— absolutely fucking not—“

“that’s.. not.. it,” she winced.

“what? what else could he have possibly done?”

“there’s a song on the album. uh.. called.. sunflower..”

you stood up from the table and stormed to your room, slamming the door.

when you woke up, it was the next day.

and you had a text.

cuntface (harry)

I got your voicemail… baby, I am so sorry. I should’ve asked about the song, and the album. Dropping it on your birthday was uncalled for. I’m sorry. I should’ve reached out. I shouldn’t have even left.

sent at 8:57pm

Baby, come on. Please answer. I’m sorry. Are you alright?

sent at 11:22pm

that motherfucker left you in the dust without a second though, and he had the nerve to act concerned about you? what the hell did you even say in the voicemail?

you tapped a few buttons on your phone until finding said voicemail. you hit play.

“you have a lot of nerve, you know that, harry? you fucking leave me with no other reason besides ‘i can’t do this anymore’.. like.. what kind of fucking excuse is that? and you left me with our fucking dog! our dog! that you named after what you called me! which, by-the-fucking way is a fucking song on this apparent new album of yours that you dropped on my birthday like i was the problem in our relationship! fuck you, harry. fuck you for everything. i-.. god, i can’t even say i hate you, because.. i don’t. i don’t fucking hate you, and i hate that i don’t hate you because i should. i should fucking hate you so much, but i don’t. i’m still in love with you and it’s so fucking pathetic. and that’s your fault. so fuck you, harry. fuck you. you’re not the only one who can write songs.”

you furrowed your brows at the last sentence you said in the voicemail. you didn’t write a song about him, did you?

and then you glanced at your nightstand, and your songbook was thrown open. a whole song written out on a page you are very sure was blank before.

you grab the book, examining the now tear-stained pages before reading the song title.

i should hate you.

well, that’s fitting.

on new years eve, you had a show at the same bar you met harry at. and at the very end of your set, you performed the song you wrote about him.

“so, uh.. i’ve played here before, actually. last christmas, and uh.. i met this.. this guy. huge crush on him, all that shit. we talked for a while, dated for a few months, got a dog together and then he.. just.. kinda left? and didn’t reach out for six months until i cussed him out in a voicemail, where i basically said i was still in love with him!” you laugh awkwardly.

the audience laughs, too.

“so, uh.. yeah. and then after that i was just, like.. i should hate him, so why don’t i? and.. that’s what this song is. this called i should hate you.”

you backed away from the mic slightly as you started strumming and the audience clapped.

“last night i spiraled alone in the kitchen. making pretend that the furniture listened. wasn’t the best of my mental conditions, but i tried thinking of you without any forgiveness.. because i was the one who would stay up and call you. and i’d drive to your house for the shit that you went through.”

driving to his house anytime the press did something to upset him. calling him when he was miles away and it was three in the morning, and you had a shift at the coffee shop at six.

“and i wasted my breath when i tried to console you, didn’t i?”

anytime she’d comfort him about the horrible things tabloids said, he’d reject it.

“‘cause we didn’t happen the way we were supposed to.”

in your head, you were happily together and nothing ever went wrong in june. he was in the audience tonight cheering you on, smiling at you when you made eye contact. that’s how it should.

“i know that i should hate you. i know that i should hate you. pulled the knife out my back, it was right where you left it.”

trying to console you after your voicemail, months too late.

“but you aimed kinda perfect, i’ll give you the credit.”

you opened up to him and it felt like he used that against you when he left like that. he knew exactly how to make it hurt to the point it was unbearable.

“i just drank something strong to try to forget, but it wasn’t right. no, you’re not even here, but you’re doing my head in. i know that i should hate you. i know that i should hate you. i know that i should hate you. ooh, ooh. i should hate you, i feel stupid like i almost crashed my car driving home to talk about you at my table in the dark.”

you did do that. you went to one of your spots in london (a little book store that was rarely busy) and afterwards, you sped home so fast you almost crashed. you just needed to talk about him, but nobody was home. because he left.

“all i ever think about is where the hell you even are.”

you always wondered where he was, how he was doing, if he hurt the way you did. if he felt it right in his chest the way you did.

“and i swear to god i’d kill you if i loved you less hard.”

you’d kill him if you didn’t love him. you’d hate him if you weren’t still in love with him.

“after all of this time, i still get disappointed.”

after the voicemail, you expected him to show up at your door and fix everything. he didn’t. of course, he didn’t. because, even if he still payed for the house, it wasn’t his home anymore. it was just yours.

“bet you’re doing alright, and you don’t even know it.”

from the bits and pieces you managed to see of his life, he was living it up. while you cried.

“how it’s all ‘cause of you that my standards are broken.”

before, you’d been like every other girl. saying your standards were high, because your standards were harry styles. it just so happened to be that he was the one to lower those standards.

“i would bend back to you if you left the door open..”

if he came back, you’d come running.

“i know that i should hate you. i know that i should hate you. i know that i should hate you. ooh, ooh. i know that i should hate you. i know that i should hate you. i know that i should hate you. ooh, ooh.”

with the last note, you bowed. and then left the stage as everyone cheered.

you planned on just leaving. but something in you wanted a drink before hopping in the uber. so you ran up to the bar.

“a shirley temple, please,” you asked.

the bartender nodded and you sat in silence (save for the usual noise of the bar) until—

“y/n.”

a familiar voice. too familiar. it made you freeze.

your name from his lips was a statement. not a question, this time.

you finally turned, your eyes meeting familiar green ones.

“.. harry.”

deja fucking vu.

“i am so—“

“here’s your shirley temple to go, ma’am.”

you have never been more grateful for a drink. you turned and thanked the bartender quietly, grabbing the drink before speeding off.

“wh— y/n!”

you kept walking until you were halfway down the street and he grabbed your arm, forcing you to turn around.

“don’t. don’t do this, don’t run away from me— from us—“

“you ran away from us first, harry! i was all in! i was ready for whatever, and you just up and left like it meant nothing— like i meant nothing! do you know how that felt? do you even have an idea of what the felt like?”

he didn’t say anything.

“i didn’t think so.”

“please, baby— sunflower, i jus’ wanna talk.”

“i have nothing to say to you, harry.”

a/n: … hahahaha!

#harry styles oneshot #harry styles fic #harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles ficmas #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #ficmas

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yelena-bellova · 5 months

Text

Heartfirst: A Ted Lasso Story - Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty: Believe

Plot: Richmond and West Ham face off in the deciding match of the season.

Word Count: 3.1k

Warnings: language

A/N: Well, we’re almost at the end. I wanna thank everyone who’s patiently waited for this one through my depressive waves and exhaustion. Means a lot. This one’s short and sweet, but hopefully it brings some smiles <3 Enjoy!

—————

The long anticipated day had arrived.

Richmond versus West Ham.

From the first crack of dawn, the entire town of Richmond was abuzz. Shops were closed, pubs were bustling, even those who didn’t care about football were showing their support. This was the highlight of the year.

Y/n was up with them, so anxious she was barely able to eat or sit or do anything but anxiously pace her apartment. The caffeine in her morning tea didn’t help either. Caring, it turned out, came with enough nerves for the whole team.

Jamie had spent the night at his place, the two of them agreeing he needed rest more than they needed time together. He’d made Y/n promise to text him when she got to the stadium so he could sneak out and see her before the match.

Y/n waited as long as possible, which was still two and a half hours ahead of the match, before getting dressed. The controversial #9 shirt was now standard uniform and she put it on with pride. She pulled out her phone and snapped a picture in the mirror, sending it to Jamie. His response was quick.

Jamie Tartt: Magic

We’re def gonna win now.

Y/n smiled, more giggly than anything else. She gathered the rest of her things and headed out.

Despite getting there early, the traffic surrounding the stadium was substantial. There were fans lining the streets, waiting for the gates to open. All along Nelson Road, you could hear the Richmond chants. Everyone was ready for a match.

Y/n parked in the staff lot and headed into the building. There wasn’t much work to do on game day. Pressers and interviews were already lined up and organized. Higgins wouldn’t even be in until right before everything started. She had time to spare.

Deciding some calm before the storm would be nice, Y/n slipped into her office. There were still a few leftover things there, books and papers and such. Some computer supplies and her chair. Eventually she’d move back in once Keeley was more settled, but for now it felt like a ghost town.

From her desk, she could hear the roar of the crowd filing into the stadium. Their cheers and collective conversation. Y/n settled into her seat and simply listened, uplifted by the enthusiasm penetrating the walls.

There was no way to know on her first day at Nelson Road what would transpire. That she would find the family she’d always longed for or the love she’d never let herself have. That she’d have a job she could take pride in. It had all come to be in spite of her best efforts and beyond what she thought she ever deserved.

A tear slipped down Y/n’s cheek. Her world was golden.

When it was finally time, she headed back downstairs, texting Jamie when she was outside the locker room. The boys’ chatter could be heard through the doors. The adrenaline was practically seeping out the cracks.

Jamie slipped out, him and Y/n sinking into a hard embrace outside the door.

“Hi,” Jamie mumbled into her shoulder.

“Hi,” Y/n giggled, running a hand over his hair.

“I like this.”

“What?”

Jamie swayed them lightly, face still buried in Y/n’s coat. “Getting to see you before a match. Don’t have to come up with excuses now.”

Y/n laughed as he moved them around, pulling back eventually to properly see Jamie. She placed her hands on his cheeks, “How’re you feeling?”

“Good,” Jamie smiled, “Good. We got this.”

“Yeah, you do,” she beamed, “Are we gonna be one of those couples that has some pre-game good luck ritual or something?”

Jamie glanced down at Y/n’s chest. The sight of her wearing his number seemed special enough. “Long as you’re wearing that, we’re set. But,” he adjusted his grip and nudged Y/n’s nose, “Can never have too much luck.”

Dipping her slightly, Jamie smiled into an easy kiss with Y/n grinning equally. It was a routine they could settle into quite comfortably.

“OI!”

Jamie startled and pulled them back up. Roy was coming out of the coach’s office and stalking towards them. When he reached them, somewhat awkwardly, Roy held out a badge to Y/n.

“It’ll get you on the pitch,” he explained, “We save ‘em for sick kids and rich pricks that want a good story to tell their rich prick friends.”

Y/n rubbed a thumb over the badge. V.I.P. Was he offering what she thought he was?

“If you distract him or I catch him tryin’ to show off for you,” Roy pointed to Jamie, “You get the fuck out of there.”

When Y/n nodded, barely hiding her smile, Roy headed back down the hall.

“I love you too, Roy,” Y/n called.

He grunted as he rounded the corner.

“Guess we’ve got his stamp of approval,” Y/n mused as she fiddled with the badge.

“Guess so,” Jamie chuckled, “You gonna do it?”

“Yeah. But I’m starting out in the box,” Y/n wrapped her arms around Jamie’s shoulders, “I am here for people other than you.”

Jamie smirked, “But mostly for me, right?”

“Tell yourself whatever you need to,” Y/n smiled against his lips, leaving one more kiss, “I love you.”

“Love you too,” Jamie replied and stole one more hug from her, “Next time I kiss you, it’s gonna be on the pitch.”

“It better be.”

Y/n stepped away, dragging her hand down Jamie’s arm and holding his fingers till they were forced by space to part. They turned away from one another, beaming.

Y/n went through the staff entrance into the stadium, melting into the crowds until she reached the elevator. She took it up to her respective level and entered the owner’s box. It was twenty minutes to game time and most guests were already in their seats. From her spot, she could see the top of Keeley’s pigtails in the front row.

“Hello,” Y/n greeted in a sing-song tone.

Keeley squealed and stood up to hug Y/n, sliding over a seat and letting Y/n settle next to Rebecca.

“You remember my dear friend, Flo, I’m sure,” Rebecca gestured to the brunette on her other side.

“Of course,” Y/n reached over and squeezed Sassy’s hand. They’d met at a staff event Rebecca had invited her best friend to.

“You have a lot of gaps to fill in,” Sassy winked theatrically, “With scandalous amounts of details.”

Y/n looked between Rebecca and Keeley, “Do you just go around broadcasting my love life to everyone?”

“You’re dating one of the most popular players in the country,” Rebecca pointed out, “It’s not going to stay a secret forever.”

If they were honest, Jamie and Y/n really hadn’t considered the publicity. Everything had come to be so suddenly that the press were the last thing they were thinking about.

“How’s he feeling?” Keeley asked.

“Good,” Y/n answered, looping her arm through Keeley’s, “Definitely no repeats of last time.”

“Good,” she nodded.

“And,” Y/n turned towards Rebecca, “Have we had any run-ins?”

Where West Ham was, Rupert followed, and everyone was eager to know how Rebecca was handling it.

“Yes, and all is well,” she smiled, only half-forcing it.

Sassy snorted from beside her best friend. Differing interactions had clearly occurred.

Nevertheless, Y/n accepted the answer, “Okay.”

Soon enough, Higgins and his wife joined the group along with Barbara. When the whole group was assembled, the Hammers and Greyhounds came onto the pitch. As they stood in front of the crowds, Richmond looked noticeably…shaken.

“Something happen?” Keeley asked.

“I don’t know. Everything seemed fine when…” Y/n shut her eyes and bit her lip, “Shit.”

Rebecca looked over, “What?”

“Beard asked me for any videos or photos I had from the season,” she explained, “He said it was for something he was putting together.”

The women took a breath, while simultaneously holding one.

The tears passed and the match started like any other. The first fifteen minutes flew by without either team scoring, which felt like some sort of victory. It was short-lived though, as by halftime, West Ham had scored twice.

Y/n found that watching a match as a player’s girlfriend was a whole new experience. Anytime Jamie made a move, she was practically out of her seat. If a Hammer looked like he was going for him, anxiety flooded her chest. Every emotion was heightened, a blessing and a curse.

When the boys headed off the pitch, there was nothing left to do but fear. No matter how hard the women tried to appear calm, each of them were sweating out the possible loss.

“That’s it,” Y/n announced once she’d grown too nervous to stay still.

“Where are you going?” Keeley asked as Y/n climbed over her legs.

“Down there.”

“I didn’t think your badge got you that far,” Rebecca half-asked.

Y/n hopped on one leg around Sassy on the aisle. “It doesn’t,” she replied, “Keep a closer eye on the printer.”

Weaving through the crowds, Y/n made her way to the staff entrance. Halftime seemed the most logical moment to sneak down. The announcers would be on break and commercials would be running.

Once she got to the pitch, she hurried along the edge, oblivious to any puzzled looks she received. Even if she was simply a passive observer, Y/n could feel a rush of energy sweep over her. She couldn’t imagine what the boys felt like every time they stepped up.

“Hey,” Will brightened up when he saw Y/n, “You made it.”

“Yeah,” Y/n squeezed his hand quickly, smiling to Nate on the other side, and settled into the empty seat. “There’s perks to being on Roy’s good side.”

The three shared a grin of anticipation before Trent leaned out of his seat and patted Y/n’s shoulder.

“Nice to see you down here,” he smiled, winking.

And the feeling that filled her, though she’d expected it to be out of place, was one of belonging. Like there was nowhere else for her than right where she was.

When the fifteen minutes were up, the Greyhounds and Hammers reentered the pitch. Jamie’s eyes went to the dugout to find Y/n looking back at him. They shared a soft smile, their eyes lighting with glee. This was a special moment.

Roy was quick to spot the spark. “I’ll fucking take you out,” he promised.

Y/n nodded, “Yes, coach.”

The boys came back with a new fire lit under them. They were playing not only like they had something to lose, but like they were actually enjoying themselves. It was a perfect combination.

Jamie got the ball to Dani, who in turn missed a shot off the goalpost. Sam took another shot at it only to recieve the same outcome. The third attempt, made by Colin, was still no dice. It wasn’t until the ball got returned to Jamie that he finally put it away, a perfect shot.

“YES!!” Y/n leapt out of her seat, throwing her fists in the air and not even bothering to hide her bias.

After the boys finished celebrating, Jamie looked straight over to Y/n, slapping his hand over his chest. It took them both straight back to Wembley.

“He’s gonna do it again,” Y/n said adamantly, settling back in next to Will.

“He’s gonna do it again,” Will repeated. Neither of their eyes moved from the pitch.

Jamie was off again, moving across the field when a West Ham player swept past him, tripping him. He rolled rather harshly into the grass.

The second he went down, Y/n was up and breathless. She had to catch herself before she ran out onto the pitch.

“Get up, get up, get up,” she whispered.

The referee rightfully called a penalty and Richmond gained a free kick. Just after it was called, Sam helped a grinning Jamie to his non-injured feet.

Y/n smirked and shook her head, “Fuck.”

While it was Jamie’s shot to take, he rolled the ball over to Dani. Dani in turn passed it to Isaac, which surprised everyone.

“Crap,” Y/n uttered.

Nate looked over, confused, “What?”

“Just…” Y/n struggled, “Guard your face.”

The knowing spectators sat at the ready as Isaac lined up the shot. He took careful steps back before surging forward and power kicking the ball. It was fast, but flew past the net and straight into the crowd. The stadium groaned with disappointment, it would have been Richmond’s assurance of victory.

“Shit,” Y/n mumbled, running her hands over her hair.

“Wait, wait, wait, guys,” Nate drew Will and Y/n’s focus upwards, “Look.”

Mike Dean was crossing the pitch to the posts. He inspected something in the net before signaling that it was indeed a goal. Isaac had just sent it through the netting.

Nate, Will and Y/n jumped out of their chairs, grabbing onto one another in a victorious embrace. Richmond wasn’t out of the ring just yet.

With stoppage time started for the grounds crew to replace the net, the Greyhounds headed to the sidelines to discuss strategy. Once enough had been said, Jamie jogged over to the dugout, making a beeline for his girlfriend.

“Hey,” he smiled, “What’d you think?”

Y/n exhaled shakily, “Yeah, we’re definitely breaking up after this because I can’t take the stress.”

Jamie laughed.

“No, seriously,” Y/n grabbed his hands, “My palms are a fucking river, my mouth’s dry. I can’t do this on a regular basis.” She pulled their intwined fingers between them, urging Jamie to look at her. “You’re brilliant.”

While his cheeks were already flush red, the hue deepened at the compliment.

“You’re a fucking menace out there, and you don’t stop being one,” Y/n practically commanded, “Because I got news for you, you’re in their fucking heads. And if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that once you’re in somebody’s head,” Y/n grinned, “You don’t come out.”

Y/n pressed a palm to Jamie’s cheek, the sounds of the crowd and everything around them disappearing. “You’ve got this.”

Jamie’s self-confidence wasn’t lacking, but there was something about hearing those words come from one specific person that made it shoot sky high. If Y/n believed in him, he could win the whole fucking thing.

“And you need to go now before Roy kills me,” Y/n finished.

Just as Jamie was about to tell her he loved her, their attention was drawn to the side. An indignant Rupert was marching down the field, brushing past the Greyhounds.

“I gotta…” Jamie said distractedly.

“Yeah,” Y/n slipped her hands away, Jamie headed back to the boys.

The whole team watched in shock as Rupert berated his head coach before shoving him to the ground. The stadium was stunned into near silence. An unprecedented moment.

The boys headed back out to the pitch as the ref whistled and Rupert had no choice but to leave. The crowd came back to life fully and began a rousing chorus of ‘Wanker’ to carry him off the field.

“Holy shit,” Y/n exhaled.

“What was that?” Will asked without really seeking an answer.

There was no time to look any further into it as the match restarted. There was serious hustle from Van Damme before the Hammers eventually made a goal, bringing the score to 3-2. However, one of the players was found to be offside and it returned to a tie.

Finally, it came down to the very last minute.

Jamie carried the ball to Richard, who was taken down by a Hammer, and Richmond earned a free kick. If they made it, they could take the whole thing. They just needed a really, really, big move.

As the coaches huddled, Ted looked back at the seats. “Hey, Nate,” he called, “Nate, come here.”

Hesitantly, Nate got up and joined Ted at the front. Ted called out to the boys and began pointing to the former assistant coach.

“What’s happening?” Y/n asked Will as Ted began to shout something about an Oscar.

“I don’t know,” Will mumbled.

Whatever it was, the boys seemed to understand it, and each headed to their marks. Y/n prayed that the unconventional coaching methods of Ted paid off one last time.

The ref blew the whistle and the teams set off. Sam laid the ball off to Dixon, who slid it over to Bumbercatch. Jamie, exaggeratedly, made a run for it, screaming for a pass.

For two seconds, Y/n stood wildly confused, before she spotted Sam. No player was near him. She and Will clutched onto one another.

This was it.

Bumbercatch got the ball to Sam.

Sam made a perfect goal.

The entire stadium, from field to nosebleeds, went wild. And once the ref called it, it became overwhelming.

The Greyhounds had done it.

Y/n and Will latched onto one another and jumped up and down, somewhere between tears and screams.

The pitch became flooded by the players, the coaches and the fans. Y/n didn’t secondguess her decision to run on, following the rest of the crowd. Trent and her ended up beside one another, racing up to the growing group of Greyhounds.

As she looked around, searching for anyone to congratulate, she spotted Colin, hand in hand with a man she’d never seen. Just before he dragged him into the victory circle, the mystery man spotted Y/n and smiled.

“I think you belong with me.”

The two shared an understanding look, Y/n’s eyes flicking briefly to Colin, who looked ecstatic.

“I think I do,” Y/n smiled back, grabbing the extended hand and racing off with them.

The whole team was locked in an embrace, surrounding a dancing Ted. They cheered and chanted and fell into one another. All the while, Y/n and Colin’s beau held onto one another, letting their other halves enjoy their moment.

Jamie, however, was already searching around frantically. The second they made eye contact, he and Y/n were snaking through and past their friends to get to one another.

Jamie threw his arms around her, lifting Y/n up and spinning her around. Y/n’s eyes began to water as the full emotion of their magnificent win sunk in.

“You did it,” she cheered as they spun.

Jamie set her down finally, took one good look and pulled Y/n in for an earth shattering kiss. The one they’d both been waiting to share longer than they even knew.

When they eventually pulled back, breathless and giddy, all the joys around them seemed to amplify. Naturally, Jamie and Y/n ran straight back into the team huddle. Once the boys saw Y/n, she got passed around from body to body in big sweaty hugs. Even Roy swept her into a firm embrace.

There was singing, there was chanting, there was so much pure happiness. After a season filled with so many trials and tribulations, the Greyhounds had earned their perfect moment in time. And it was glorious.

————

Heartfirst Taglist: @lalla-04p @optimisticsandwichgladiator @makingmunson94 @taytaylala12 @storysimp @sokkigarden @lightninginab0ttle @poohkie90 @alipap3 @verra-nerevarine @shineforever19 @spaceagechimera @burnafter-reading @qardasngan @cyberpvnk-enthusiast @sogoodtoheritsvicious @buckybarnex @angelsunflxwer @blueanfield @thewildestwonderland @sablecities @oxxolovemelikeyoudooxxo @strawberryacethingz @mentalistfan @tortilla-maria1 @katdahlali @for-fuck-sake-im-alive @glitterquadricorn @jamieolivia27 @imvibin69 @katlizada @lil-tracys @fanaticalfantasist @heyitz-julia @cactajuice @peachyy-tea @notalxx @rockchickrebel @anxiety-prime-max @mentalistfan @loveforaugust @jellycolors @actuallybarb @heletsmelovehim @lovinnscarletknight @imfalling-inlove @leslieiscrying @meg-ro @littlemisssunshine192 @beboldbebravethings @maydayfigment @spencerreidsbookclub @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @lemoonandlestars @im-a-weirdo-for-life @mindless-rock (tags cont. in comments ❤️)

#heartfirst #ted lasso fic #ted lasso imagine #ted lasso fanfic #jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt imagine

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