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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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munson-blurbs · 8 months

Text

Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!Reader Series

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16

Summary: Your weekend getaway to Indianapolis comes with a boyfriend who's trying to quit smoking, a five-year-old who has difficulty acclimating to new routines, and your own insecurities about your mothering abilities. What could possibly go wrong?

Warnings: angst, insecurities about motherhood, lost child, Eddie gets mad at us, discussion of menstrual period/PMS

WC: 7.7k A/N: There is a moment where someone refers to us as Harris's mom; however, she doesn't see us. There is no indication that we resemble Harris in any way.

Chapter 16/20

Divider credit to @saradika Eddie edit credit to @eddiemunsonsmum

The morning dew still kisses the grass when you arrive at the Munson apartment, hauling your duffel bag up to their half-packed car. Eddie’s leaning into the backseat, only his jean-clad legs visible from your vantage point. Harris stands behind him, watching his dad’s every move earnestly and intently. If you had a camera on you, you’d take a photo of this Kodak moment.

“Hi, boys!” you chirp as enthusiastically, tucking your lips into your mouth to stop yourself from laughing when Eddie bangs his head on the roof of the car. “You okay?”

“Y-Yeah, ‘m good,” he mutters, rubbing at his scalp with one hand, expression somewhere between a grimace and a smile.”Morning, Sweetheart. You sleep well?”

You nod, opening your arms as Harris races towards you for a hug. “What about you guys? Or were you too excited about our super-fun weekend?”

“Daddy snored!” Harris reports with a grin, overjoyed to share what he perceives to be a juicy morsel of gossip.

Eddie gasps in mock-offense, reaching out to take your bag and arranging it amongst his and Harris’s in the trunk. “I did not!”

“Did too!” Harris retorts, turning back to you and adding, “like, so loud!”

You crouch down, and hold a pinky out in front of him. “We’re gonna have to stick together this weekend if we’re going to survive,” returning his smile when he wraps his little finger around yours in a promise.

“Can’t believe my girlfriend is conspiring against me with my own flesh and blood,” Eddie grumbles, eyes widening when he realizes what he’s said; rather, in front of whom he’s said it. His panicked gaze meets yours, and you both anticipate some reaction from Harris, but he’s fortunately unfazed and too fixated on the utter silliness of his dad’s snoring. Eddie clears his throat, determined to change the subject before his son catches on. “I think we’re ready to ship out,” he offers, slamming the trunk shut and pressing down to double-check that it’s closed.

“Snacks?” you ask, running through a mental checklist of necessities.

Eddie holds up a family-size bag of pretzels. “Got ‘em.”

“Water?”

“Backseat,” he points to the floor to the left of Harris’s booster seat–a recent upgrade from his carseat. “Harris will be in charge of that, right, Har?”

“Right!” Harris confirms with a thumbs-up.

“Sounds good. Put him to work,” you tease. Eddie’s heart skips a beat at the playful relationship that you and his son have, swapping smiles and making each other laugh. “Music?”

Eddie juts his chin towards the center console, filled to the brim with cassettes. “Always.”

You cock your eyebrow knowingly before posing your next question, preparing yourself for some visceral response. “Nicotine gum?”

Eddie groans, patting the pack of Nicorette in his pocket. “Unfortunately, yes.” About a week and a half ago, Harris had come home from school crying after the school had put on an assembly about the dangers of smoking. Eddie had been meaning to quit for a long time, but his son worrying over real problems, using words like cancer and heart attack, was what finally pushed him to chuck every pack of cigarettes he owned into the trash.

“Okay,” you smile and clap your hands together, “I think we’re good to go!” You help Harris buckle his seatbelt before climbing into the passenger seat.

The sedan rumbles to life, catching on the second key turn and disrupting the otherwise still morning. “Gentlemen, start your engines!” Eddie roars in an exaggeratedly deep voice, and Harris giggles from the backseat. With Eddie’s hand on the gearshift, you seize the opportunity to squeeze it, light pink tickling his cheeks at your touch.

It’s only thirty minutes into the drive before it starts.

“Daddy, I gotta pee!”

You can practically feel the patience leaving Eddie’s body, fingers tightly gripping the wheel until his knuckles flush white.

“Har Bear, we just hit the road,” he tries, knowing his efforts are fruitless. “Can you hold it?”

“No, it’s a ‘mergency!”

“Fuck,” Eddie swears under his breath. The likelihood of it actually being an emergency is slim to none, but he’s in no mood to risk it. “All right, I’ll pull over at the next rest stop, ‘kay?”

Eddie takes the next exit, parking at a truck stop and nearly falling out of the car in his scramble to get Harris to the bathroom. “C’mon, c’mon,” he mutters, walking so quickly that Harris nearly trips over his own feet. You quicken your own pace just to keep up with them.

The scent of coffee grabs your attention as soon as you walk in the door, and you make a beeline for the tiny Dunkin Donuts tucked in the corner. The cashier looks as though they could use a shot or two of espresso, eyelids closing under their visor as you give your order. When the boys get back from the bathroom, you present Eddie with a large coffee with far more milk and sugar than your own, and hand a chocolate donut to Harris.

Eddie's eyes shift back and forth from the donut to you before he speaks. “It’s, like, 9 am,” he points out. “He’s gonna be bouncing off the walls if he eats that now.”

Oh. Obviously. What were you thinking, giving an already-hyperactive child pure sugar in the morning? All of the times you’d cringed when parents had sent their kids into school with Cocoa Puffs or some equally sugary cereal, and you’d given his son a chocolate donut for breakfast. “I’m sorry,” you sputter, shaking your head in frustration. “I should’ve asked you first, or saved it for later.”

“‘S fine,” he mutters, heaving an exasperated sigh as Harris takes a giant bite of donut. “At least there’s two of us to chase after him,” he adds with a weak smile.

Harris has devoured nearly the entire donut by the time Eddie’s buckling him back in, chocolate crumbs tucked into the crevices of his mouth. He’s oblivious to your faux pas, and you’d like to keep it that way.

“I really am sorry,” you say again, guilt gnawing in your stomach. “I should’ve known better; I guess I just got excited about our little vacation together.”

Eddie’s grin is more genuine this time. “Me, too, baby.” He sneaks a quick kiss to your cheek when Harris is focused on what remains of his snack. “The whole no-smoking thing has me extra bitter, y’know?”

You know. You definitely know, but you’re not about to point out all of the ways he’s been short-tempered lately. Instead, you relax into your seat and try to brush off your mistake as Eddie turns on the radio and guitar riffs replace the silence.

Eddie rolls down the window as the springtime sun warms the air, and you stretch as the rush of wind cools your body. His curls whip around the base of his neck, dancing in the breeze, and you can’t help but push them out of his face haphazardly.

Your stomach growls, and you’re grateful for the blaring music masking the embarrassingly loud noise. You’d forgotten to grab something for breakfast in your rush to leave your apartment, and coffee is a poor substitute for the most important meal of the day.

You reach down to the bag of pretzels nestled against your feet. “Y’want?” you ask Eddie, who nods and opens his mouth for you to feed it to him while he concentrates on the road. Laughter bubbles up from within you as he takes one from your hand by pinching it between his teeth.

Harris giggles, too. “Daddy, you look like a goat from the zoo!”

“Oh, yeah?” Eddie slides the snack into his mouth and bites down with a crunch, “and what sounds do goats make?”

“Hmm,” Harris ponders this for a moment before bleating a resounding, “maaaah!”

You swivel in your seat to give him a high-five. There’s donut residue on your hand when you pull back. “Smarty pants! I bet you know every animal sound there is.”

You and Eddie rattle off different species as you feed him more pretzels. Harris manages perfect impressions of each, until you call out, “sloth!” and effectively stump him.

“Ms. Sweetheart!” he cackles maniacally, partially because of his sugar rush, you’re sure, “that is so silly!”

“Y’just gotta do everything suuuuper slooooow.” You drag out the last two words to emphasize your point. “Like this: Haaaaarrisssss…caaaaan…youuuuu…haaaaand…meeeeee…aaaaa…waaaaterrrr?” This brings on a fresh round of giggles from the backseat; even extra-bitter Eddie manages a hint of a smile.

Harris grabs a bottle at a snail’s–no, a sloth’s–pace. “Heeere…youuuuu…goooooo!” His pace is far from hurried, and you feel the gentle tap of the plastic cap against your shoulder blade a full thirty seconds later.

“Thaaaaank…youuuuu!” You crack open the bottle of water and take a swig, quenching a thirst only made worse by the salty snack. “Wanna play again? See how many other animal sounds you can do?” you ask, grateful to have found a way to keep him occupied. Before you can close the bottle, Eddie reaches over and snags it, lifting it to his lips.

“Daddy, no!” Harris screeches from the backseat, little hand shooting out in protest, causing Eddie to slam on the brake. Water sloshes over the top of the bottle and onto his pants.

“Shit—what, Har?” he snaps, shoving the now half-empty bottle into the cupholder. He swipes haphazardly at the wet patch on his thigh, darkening the denim as it spreads along the fabric. He gives up with a mumbled, “whatever,” when he realizes he’s only rubbing it in more.

“You’re gonna get her germs,” Harris points out matter-of-factly.

Eddie huffs out a terse chuckle, slightly amused but still irritated. “Yeah, yeah, right,” he mutters, and you take that as a sign to reach back and get him his own bottle.

The remainder of the drive is uneventful, though Eddie has to dip into his Nicorette stash when a maroon Toyota Corolla weaves in and out of lanes at lightning speed and cuts him off. He instinctively reaches for the pack of cigarettes he’d always kept in the console, groaning when he remembers that it’s long gone.

“Good job, baby,” you murmur softly, giving his knee a quick squeeze in approval as he pops a piece of gum into his mouth. “‘M proud of you.”

You pull up to the hotel just after 10 AM, the morning chill has dissipated as the sun’s rays warm the air. The fair weather made the trip smoother, a small miracle if you’d ever seen one. Truthfully, you don’t think Eddie’s frayed nerves can handle a rainy day.

Eddie takes Harris’s hand as you all walk through the parking lot and up to the front desk. A middle-aged concierge greets you, the customer service smile plastered across his face faltering when he clocks Eddie’s ripped jeans and disheveled wind-blown hair.

“Reservation’s under ‘Munson,’” Eddie says to him, not making eye contact; your heart is a sinking stone when you realize that he also noticed the man’s shifting expression. “I called ahead and they said we could check in early.”

The concierge nods. You catch a glimpse of his shiny silver name tag, proudly proclaiming “STU, ASSISTANT MANAGER” gleaming in the overhead fluorescent lighting. “Room 325,” he grunts, handing you and Eddie keys dangling from matching logo-branded chains. Elation is a sunflower blooming in your chest; your first vacation has officially begun. Maybe it’s a little getaway only ninety minutes from home, but it’s a new adventure that you’re taking together.

Eddie flings his and Harris’s shared bag, then yours, onto one of the queen beds with a groan. “We made it!” he announces, flinging an arm over your shoulder. The pads of his fingers brush your upper arm, a tissue-paper light touch that has you soaring.

“Daddy? I gotta pee again,” Harris’s urgency breaks the moment. He’s hopping from one foot to the other, a potty dance if you’ve ever seen one.

“Go for it,” Eddie says, pointing towards the bathroom. He shakes his head when his son sprints the short distance.

Once the door closes, Eddie’s hands are on your hips, tugging you so close that your stomachs touch, your breasts pressed to his chest. His mouth immediately swoops down to your neck, nipping gently at the flesh along your collarbone.

“Hello there,” you manage to speak through a laugh. You’re unable to say more, as he’s pressing his lips to yours in a hungry kiss so fervently that your teeth nearly click together.

“Hi,” he breathes once he’s pulled back, brushing the tip of his nose against your own. “Sorry, y’just look really pretty.”

You wrinkle your nose in confusion. “I’m wearing sweatpants. I don’t even have makeup on.” Truthfully, you’d meant to at least swipe on some mascara, but you were preoccupied making sure that you’d packed everything you needed for the weekend.

“Don’t care,” Eddie mumbles, leaning in for another kiss, “still s’fuckin’ pretty. Don’t know how I’m gonna keep my hands off of you.”

The solution to that problem comes in the form of a flushing toilet and Harris calling out, “I’m done! Gonna wash my hands!”

Eddie throws his head back in frustration before burying his pink-tinged face in his hands. “This, uh, was not exactly how I imagined our first time in a hotel together,” he admits.

“At least he’s washing his hands,” you joke, trying to ward off the throbbing need building in your core. It fails miserably. You want him, need him, to relieve the ache in the way that only he can. You yearn for the way his fingertips dance across your skin, eagerly reaching under your shirt or dipping below your waistband, desperate to make his girl feel good.

The two of you break apart as the bathroom door swings open. You fly across the room and pretend like you’re rifling through your duffel bag while Eddie flops onto the bed. His shirt rides up slightly as he lays down, and you have to fight the urge to bite the exposed sliver of tummy.

“When are we going to the market?” Harris asks, catapulting himself onto the bed and landing next to his dad.

Eddie rolls over and checks the digital alarm clock between the two queen beds. “Doesn’t start for another few hours,” he says. “I was gonna try and take a quick nap before we—”

“I’m not tired!” Harris whines, and you can see in Eddie’s deflated, tense physicality that his already thin patience is wearing down further. “I wanna go now!”

“Hey, Har Bear,” you try, hoping you’re not inserting yourself into the dynamic too forcefully, “why don’t we go on an adventure while Daddy sleeps? We can wake him up when we get back.”

Harris hops down onto the floor and readily slips his hand into yours. “Bye, Daddy!” he calls out, dragging you towards the door. “Me an’ Ms. Sweetheart are having a ‘venture!”

Eddie gives you a weary but grateful smile as he scoots upwards to rest his head on the overstuffed pillow. “Godspeed,” he mumbles into the sheets, already beginning to doze off as he speaks.

The elevator dings and you shuffle into the small space, reaching for the “L” button to bring you down to the lobby.

“I wanna push the button!” Harris laments, and his sudden shriek has you instinctively pulling your hand back before regaining your composure.

Do you correct him? Let him press the button despite raising his voice? Deciding a consequence comes naturally to you in the classroom, but the anxiety of making the wrong choice serves as a massive roadblock. “You have to ask nicely if you want to push the button,” you offer, sending up a silent prayer that this staves off an impending tantrum.

He pouts for a moment before relenting. “Can I push the button?” It’s more grumble than request, but you accept it anyway.

His hand remains tucked safely into yours when you leave the hotel, basking in warm weather. You breathe in for three, breathe out for three. Okay. You can do this. Your job revolves around children; you can survive an afternoon taking care of just one.

Except that one happens to be your boyfriend’s son, and if you mess this up, it could ruin both Munsons’ perceptions of you.

“Where’re we going?” Harris asks, and you realize that you have no earthly idea; to be honest, you’re surprised that he so readily agreed.

”We can go for a walk?” you suggest, pasting on a smile in feigned confidence. “Maybe we can find a playground or something?”

“Okay!” he chirps. He’s fast for someone with little legs, and you have to remind him multiple times to use his walking feet. Yeah, this kid needs to burn off some energy, stat.

To your relief, there’s a playground just a few blocks away, fully equipped with a swing set and a jungle gym. Harris races across the grassy field onto the wood chip-covered area, assessing the space to figure out what he wants to conquer first.

You sit on the bench next to a woman who simultaneously reads a James Patterson novel and keeps an eye on the jungle gym, where a little girl is dangling from the monkey bars, putting one hand in front of the other.

She looks over with a sympathetic smile when you breathe out a long sigh, sinking into the wooden back like a weight has been removed from your shoulders.

“I hear that,” she says with a kind chuckle. “Mine will be tired for about…hmm, five minutes? Just long enough to get her home, and then she’ll be hopping around like the Energizer Bunny.” She shakes her head. “Is yours the same way?”

Yours. The term is peanut butter stuck to the roof of your mouth, and it takes a beat too long for you to respond. “Y-Yeah, I’m pretty sure he would sleep run if he could.” The stranger laughs at your joke, and you relax a bit. “Sorry, he’s really my boyfriend’s son, and it’s kind of…new to think of him as being mine, too.”

You expect her to pick up and move to a different bench, away from the weird woman who’s baring her soul on the playground, but she just closes her book and turns to you. “Carly is technically my stepdaughter,” she explains in a hushed tone, “but her mom’s not in the picture so, for all intents and purposes, she’s my daughter. No ‘step’ necessary.”

“Is…is it hard?” you ask, the question spilling from your lips in a desperate plea for answers. “Being a stepmom?”

She nods. “Oh, absolutely.” She brushes a strand of hair from her eyes, and you can see a sparkle behind them. “But, trust me, I wouldn’t trade it for the world.”

Her words, spoken freely of judgment and purely with empathy, alleviate the nervousness burning through you. “Thank you,” you murmur, gratitude forming a lump in your throat that you struggle to swallow.

“Ms. Sweetheart!” Harris shouts from the top of the jungle gym. “Look what I can do!” He hesitates for a moment before reaching out his arms and grabbing onto the metal pole. You stand up to call out a preemptive warning, to get to him before he can fall, but before you can, his chubby hands grip the pole. He hooks his legs around it and slides down expertly, not letting go until his sneakers are firmly planted on the wood chips scattered across the ground.

Pride warms your heart when his eyes lock with yours, the corners of his mouth twitching slightly as he awaits your approval. Anticipation reverberates within his little body, and before you can get in a word edgewise, he’s jumping up and down with an excited, “didja see me?”

“You’re amazing!” Your praise floats through the air and envelops him like a long-awaited embrace. “Super brave, too. I don’t think I could do that.”

He furrows his brows before a knowing smile forms on his lips. “Yes, you can! I’ll show you.”

Kind of walked right into that one, you lightly chastise yourself, but you dutifully shuffle towards where he’s already darting up the steps on all fours, hands splayed out for balance.

“C’mon, Ms. Sweetheart!” Harris cheers, waving his fists in the air in earnest, and you simply cannot let the boy down. He easily glides down once more, big brown eyes looking up at you from the ground. “Just like that, see?”

“Right, got it.” You give him a thumbs-up and emulate his movements, holding on tightly to the metal pole and sliding down. You grimace as it squeaks under your grasp, nails on a chalkboard, but your feet reach the ground soon enough.

Harris flings his arms around you, chin digging into your thigh as he gazes up in adoration. “I told you you could do it! Y’just had to try!” His admiration is fleeting; he soon spots another child leap from the swingset to play elsewhere. “Can you push me on the swings?” he pleads, already leading you to the equipment. “I just need a little help getting started, but then ‘m good.”

You hold the chain links dangling from the top of the structure, allowing Harris to maneuver himself onto the rubber seat. He scoots back so his bottom is fully supported and announces, “‘m ready!”

“Hold on tight,” you remind him, more out of routine than necessity, as you pull back the rust-covered chains. You move as far back as you can, double-checking that he hasn’t let go, and release the swing. His squealing giggles are music to your ears, and you push him a few more times before he’s able to take over independently.

His mop of curls defies gravity as he sails back and forth, pumping his legs to gain height. “Ms. Sweetheart?”

“Hm?”

“Do you love my daddy?”

You ponder the thought for a moment. You know exactly how you feel about Eddie; he simultaneously kicks up the butterflies in your stomach and calms every buzzing nerve in your body with just a smile, but you’re unsure how much he wants to tell Harris. You settle on the truth, direct and simple: “yeah, I do love him.”

Harris wastes no time asking a follow-up question. “A lot or a little?”

“A lot,” you answer quickly, realizing the magnitude of your enamoration as you say it aloud. The way Eddie’s kisses wrap you in an armor of safety; you hope your kisses have the same effect on him. “Definitely a lot.”

He hums his acknowledgement. “Grampa Wayne says Daddy loves you a lot, too, but I can’t ask you to be my mommy yet.”

You freeze in place so suddenly that the swing’s momentum nearly knocks you down; you step out of the way just before his sneaker-clad feet can make contact with your torso. “You want me to be your mommy?” you repeat dumbly, still half-convinced that you heard him incorrectly.

“Mhm,” Harris confirms, “but Grampa says that being a mommy is a big ‘sponsibility, and I gotta be patient. That means I gotta wait until Daddy says it’s okay to ask you,” he elaborates matter-of-factly.

This is clearly something they’ve talked about, extensively enough that Harris knows that he shouldn’t say anything about it. You’re temporarily rendered speechless, words failing you as you search for an appropriate response. Do you thank him? Act like you hadn’t heard him? Hope that a sinkhole opens up in the middle of the playground and swallows you whole?

“Th-That’s great, Har,” you manage, shoulders suddenly heavy with the weight of his statement. He goes back to focusing on pumping his legs, leaving you to tend to the anxiety gnawing at your insides.

Motherhood–the term stepmother seems arbitrary, given that Harris’s biological mother has all but dropped off of the face of the Earth–is a terrifying prospect. Any time you try to explain your fears, people just shrug them off, claiming that you’d be a ‘natural,’ that your years of teaching would ultimately ‘pay off’ when you had children of your own. As if teaching and parenting were remotely the same.

To you, the differences are as clear as day. When you’re a parent, there’s no ‘clocking out.’ Your obligations don’t begin at 9 AM and end at 2 PM; they’re twenty-four hours, seven days a week. It’s not the same thing. Not even close.

Before you became a teacher, you had to go to school and take education courses. Read your textbooks cover to cover. Had to do an internship for a semester. You’d had ample opportunities to determine whether or not it was the right job for you. Motherhood doesn’t offer that luxury: you don’t know if you’ll be a good mom until you’ve already chosen to become one.

“Ms. Sweetheart?” You jump out of your skin when you realize that Harris is slowing himself down, scuffed Reeboks scraping against the ground as he comes to a stop. “Can I get ice cream?”

You bite back a laugh. “You just had a donut, silly boy,” you remind him with a gentle ruffle to his curls, trying to keep your tone breezy, “but we can grab some sandwiches. Maybe even get one for Daddy, too?”

His lower lip quivers, making your heart lurch. “B-But–”

“And,” you interject, “we can go out for ice cream after the market. With Daddy.” You hope it’s a promise you can keep.

It was too good to be true. Deep down, you knew it, despite the fleeting victory of getting Harris to eat an actual lunch. His hands were sticky with peanut butter and jelly–you were making a mental note to reassure Eddie that, yes, some had gotten in his mouth–when you’d done the unthinkable. The unimaginable.

You hadn’t let him press the elevator button.

He howls and sinks down to the floor, knees slamming into the linoleum tile and making him scream even louder.

“Buddy, you’ve got peanut–”

“I wanted to press…the…BUTTON!” he shrieks, every minor inconvenience he’s encountered today culminating in what you can only dub the Tantrum of the Decade. The crash from the sugar rush, not going to the market when he wanted to, the lack of ice cream are represented in every fat tear rolling down his reddening cheeks, in every flail of his legs as you try to scoop him up and bring him into the elevator, in every heaving breath. He’s overtired, overwhelmed, and out of his normal routine.

Your own eyes get misty as the metal door slides shut, enclosing you in a small space that seems to shrink with each wail. The kid has the lung capacity of an Olympic swimmer, while you’re drowning in your own pity.

He’s still sobbing when you reach the third floor, and Eddie’s flying out of the room as soon as he hears the sound of his son crying. Curls disheveled from his nap, crust still at the corners of his eyes. I woke him up, you realize. Another nail in the coffin.

“Wh-What happened?” His voice is raised, not in accusation, but just to be heard over Harris yelling. “Did he get hurt?” He takes Harris from your arms, clutching him to his chest in sheer panic. Reflexively, he inspects his boy’s head, arms, and legs for bruising and blood.

You shake your head, afraid that any attempt to speak will have your voice fracturing into pieces, no better than the little boy’s meltdown.

Fortunately, Harris has no problem filling his dad in. “I–wanted–to push–the button–and–she–said–NO!!!” Each word is punctuated with a hitched breath and is angrier than the last.

Eddie looks at you, more puzzled than worried now that he knows his son is unharmed, and a visit to the emergency room is unnecessary.

“His hands were sticky from his sandwich,” you mutter, unable to make eye contact with either Munson. “Oh, um, this is yours,” you add robotically, handing him the bag containing his hoagie, now a darker shade of brown from the grease it’s soaked up. You wince at how stilted you sound, simply going through the motions, not at all like the enthusiastic presentation you’d planned on the walk back to the hotel.

“Thanks.” Not unappreciative, but far from enthusiastic, and you can’t blame him. “Let’s just, uh, let’s just get him in the room.”

The sleepiness consumes Harris after a few more arduous minutes in his dad’s embrace. Eddie rubs circles on his back to calm him down, tiny shh sounds passing through his teeth. Harris begins to catch his breath; hiccups like aftershocks ricochet in his chest, gradually subsiding into soft snores.

“Jesus,” Eddie whispers as he gingerly places him onto the unmade bed, still warm from where he was lying just moments earlier, “that was one hell of a wake-up call.”

You speak at the same volume as him, though you don’t even have to try. Shame buries your voice deep in your diaphragm. “I’m so sorry.” Your right incisor digs into your lower lip as emotion ravishes you. The absence of Harris’s tantruming creates a loud silence that neither of you have the energy to fill.

“I could say the same to you,” Eddie says with a soft chuckle, taking your hand and squeezing it tight as he sits down on your bed. “His meltdowns are no joke.”

“I should’ve just let him press the damn button.” You’re only half-serious, but your stomach sinks when Eddie says nothing; instead, he carefully unwraps the sandwich and takes a bite. A glob of mustard lands on the parchment paper with a soft plop.

He doesn’t disagree. You made a mistake—two mistakes, if you’re counting the donut fiasco—and Eddie saw it. Saw that you’d failed.

“Did you get enough rest?” It’s a feeble attempt to change the subject, and you both know it, but you go for it anyway.

He lets his knee knock into yours. “Never enough, Sweetheart,” he says with a smile, wiping his lips with the flimsy deli napkin. “But, yeah, I got some sleep.” He leans in and murmurs in your ear, “Would’ve been better with you next to me, though.”

You turn so that your nose brushes his. “If I was laying next to you, you wouldn’t be able to sleep,” you quip, stifling your laughter when he takes your cheeks in his hands and smacks a kiss to your lips.

“I would be a perfect gentleman.” He stretches and exposes the happy trail below his navel. “My eyes are up here,” he teases, catching you checking him out. “And you were worried about me.”

The dynamic shifts back to playful and lighthearted, his joke chipping away at the tension that’s been weighing you down.

“Shut up and eat your sandwich, Munson.”

“Yes, dear.”

You’ve showered and changed into a fresh set of clothes, jeans replacing the ratty sweatpants you’d donned earlier. You’d tried to wash the day’s stress down the drain along with the eucalyptus-scented soap suds, and though you don’t feel completely recharged, you’re ready enough to tackle the market.

Still, you can’t stop yourself from murmuring to Eddie, “d’you want me to stay here with Harris? Just in case it’s too much for him?”

He considers it for a moment before shaking his head, shrugging on his denim jacket. “Nah, he got his nap. Should be fine.”

The little boy in question slips one hand into yours and looks up at you with a grin. Eddie had talked to him earlier, reminded him about expressing himself in ways that didn’t hurt people–or their ears–and Harris apologized tearily. All is forgiven; at least between you and him. You still feel an uneasiness with Eddie, though it may be one-sided, as he’d quietly lamented that you two couldn’t shower together.

“We’re goin’ to the market! We’re goin’ to the market!” Harris chants, shuffling on the balls of his feet in a little dance. “Ms. Sweetheart, guess what?”

“What?”

“WE’RE GOIN’ TO THE MARKET!”

“Shocking,” Eddie mutters under his breath, a wry smile on his lips, and you use your free hand to swat at his stomach. “Okay,” he pats the wallet in the side pocket of his jeans, “got the company card, keys, handsome son, beautiful girlfriend…” He glances around the room; this time, he’s either unaware of his slip-up or is unbothered by Harris knowing your relationship status. “Looks like we’re good to go!”

The car ride isn’t too long; it’s only about a ten minute drive before you reach the market. And since you’d remembered to let Harris press the elevator button, it didn’t feel endless.

“Now, Harris,” Eddie says as his son climbs out of the car, hopping onto the parking lot pavement, “the market’s gonna be busy–”

“I know!”

“--so you have to hold my hand, or Ms. Sweetheart’s hand–”

“I know!”

“--the whole time. Got it?”

“Yes!” He’s far too exasperated for a five-year-old, and you have to bite your cheek to keep from laughing. “Can we go in now?”

Eddie obliges and takes Harris’s right hand; you take his left, the three of you walking towards the gigantic building together.

You’d figured it would be crowded, but you’re unprepared for just how overstimulated your senses become upon entering. Vendors shout advertisements for their booths, beckoning potential customers to check out their wares. Snippets of different conversations infiltrate your ears, and you swallow hard to clear your head, though the grainy muzak pumping through the overhead speakers doesn't help.

Immediately, you spot a booth selling secondhand books, and you look at Eddie with a hopeful gaze.

“Go,” he motions with a smile, laughing when you all but skip off to the stack of novels. You don’t want to take too long, as neither Munson has the patience to wait while you peruse your options. A weathered paperback copy of The Grapes of Wrath catches your eye, some pages dog-eared and smelling faintly of stale smoke, and you fish out two quarters from the bottom of your bag and place them in the vendor’s hand.

“Okay,” you breathe when you get back to Eddie and Harris, overwhelmed just by the short walk. You grip Harris’s hand even tighter, all-too protective of him in such a crowded space. “Let’s go get some records!”

Eddie finds a variety of vinyls that he knows will sell at Rock Records—from older classics like Louis Armstrong, Etta James, and Buddy Holly, to more recent gems from Van Halen, Queen, and Michael Jackson.

“Babe, check this out!” he announces gleefully, showing off a copy of Metallica’s Ride the Lightning. “I must’ve listened to this a hundred times when it was released in ‘84.” His enthusiasm is palpable, and you have to wonder if this purchase is for the store or for himself.

To his credit, Harris lasts a full twenty-five minutes before he starts asking for ice cream again. “You promised, renember?”

Eddie grins at him, then at you. “A promise, huh?” He clicks his tongue. “Can’t break that.”

“I think I saw a booth down there that’s sellIng some.” It’s a local shop, and you know one cone will probably cost more than a half-gallon at the grocery store, but you’ll risk the upcharge if it means avoiding a second meltdown today.

“I’ll be right there,” Eddie tells you, eyes flitting back towards a row of booths you’d passed by earlier. “Just get me something with chocolate?”

“What’s the magic word?” Harris interjects.

“Please.” He lays it on thick, throwing you a wink before turning around.

You grab a $5 bill from your back pocket, change from when you’d bought the sandwiches earlier, and approach the ice cream stand.

“Can I please get one cherry chip cone, one chocolate fudge cone, and…what do you want, Har?”

“That!” He points to a giant display of model cars displayed in front of a toy vendor’s booth. “I want the orange one!”

“We can look after,” you reassure him. “First, you have to pick the ice cream flavor you want.”

“Hmm,” he presses on tiptoes to peruse his options before pressing his forefinger to the glass, pointing to cookies ‘n cream, declaring, “that one!”

The vendor hands him his cone, then turns to you and confirms, “just the three cones?”

“Mhm.”

She punches some numbers into the register, expression far too serious for the gig. “That'll be $6.”

Exhaling, you hand her the bill in your palm. There’s no way the stodgy woman is going to cut you a break for the extra dollar. “Give me a sec; I should have a single in my wallet.” You let go of Harris’s hand, fumbling around in your bag until you pull out what you’ve been searching for.

The vendor takes your money and hands you the remaining two cones, already starting to melt with all of the body heat surrounding you.

“Thank you,” you say with a polite smile. “Okay, Har, let’s—” Your blood runs cold when you realize he’s nowhere to be found. “Harris!” you call out, voice shaking on the last syllable, unable to hide how frantic you feel. “Harris!”

Eddie, already on his way from his earlier errand, runs over to you. “Where’s—”

“He was just here!” You push your way through the crowd, accidentally brushing your scoop of cherry chip along someone’s jacket, but there’s no time to apologize.

You and Eddie take turns yelling out his name, bile rising in your throats with each unanswered shout, until you hear somebody ask, “is that your mommy and daddy calling for you?”

Both your and Eddie’s heads swivel towards the conversation, breathing identical sighs of relief when you see the familiar mop of curls in front of the toy car display.

“Oh, thank God.” It comes out in one breath, your chest deflating as you and Eddie rush towards him.

“Harris, what are you doing?” Eddie admonishes him, heart still racing as the surge of adrenaline tapers off. He picks him up, fingers digging into the shirt fabric as he holds him as close as possible, and presses a kiss to his scalp. There will be some sort of consequence later–revoking TV time and a lecture on stranger danger–but for now, there’s only the comfort of knowing he’s safe.

“I just wanted to see the cars,” Harris protests, trying and failing to wriggle from Eddie’s grip. “Can I get the orange one?”

Eddie huffs out an incredulous laugh, astounded that Harris doesn’t understand the seriousness of his actions. “No, you can’t!” he yells, attracting unwanted attention from other shoppers, “and you can’t wander off like that! I told you that you have to stay with one of us the whole time!” He flexes his palm before clenching it into a frustrated fist. “What were you thinking?”

Harris’s eyes fill with tears. “I j-just wanted to s-see them,” he tries again, taken aback by the anger in his dad’s voice. “An’ Ms. Sweetheart was right there!”

The mention of your nickname reminds Eddie of the other adult involved. “You were supposed to be watching him,” he spits, gritting his teeth to keep from raising his voice at you.

You wince at his tone, filled with venom for the first time since his comment about Grandma forgetting you all those months ago. The difference is that, now, you deserve it. Letting go of his hand was careless; at the very least, you should have reminded him to stay put. The early morning donut, the elevator button were menial indiscretions compared to this mistake. There’s no denying that you’d royally messed up.

“I’m so sorry.” Sorry for not keeping a closer eye on Harris. Sorry for waking him up from his nap via a screaming child. Sorry for waltzing into their lives and thinking you had a snowball’s chance in Hell of being a decent parent. The ice cream drips down the cones and onto your hands, pooling in the crevices between your fingers. You dump them in the nearest trash can, neither of you hungry anymore.

You can’t return to the hotel soon enough, and as soon as Eddie puts an episode of Rugrats on TV for Harris, you begin inconspicuously packing your collecting your toiletries from the bathroom to back in your luggage.

“What’re you doing?” Eddie asks from the doorway. He’s got his arms folded across his chest, perplexion wrinkling his brows.

“Going home.”

He presses his forefinger and thumb to his eyelids and shakes his head. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you like–”

“No,” you interrupt him, choking down your frustration, “you were right. You trusted me to watch him, and I didn’t.”

“Hey, hey,” Eddie steps forward and puts out a hand to stop you from grabbing your toothbrush, “it was an accident. Things happen in a split second, yeah?” He thinks back to the way Harris had tumbled off of the bed months ago. “We found him, and that’s what matters.”

He’s trying to comfort you, which somehow makes you feel worse. You lost his kid, but he’s focusing on making you feel better.

The next words out of your mouth shatter his heart into pieces: “I think it would be better for everyone if I leave.”

A small puff of air escapes his nostrils, unsurprised but hurt nonetheless. “‘S too much for you, isn’t it?” he mumbles, not even daring to glance in your direction as he says it.

He knows. He knows that you aren’t cut out for this, that you’ll never be the mom Harris needs or deserves. In his own words, he knows it’s too much for you.

You say nothing in return, and your silence is louder than the cartoon squabble just a few feet away.

“Fine, just…just go, then.” He slams one palm on the bathroom sink, the other raking through his hair so forcefully that a few strands come loose. “God, I need a fucking cigarette!” he mutters, jaw clenched.

“I’m so sorry.” It’s all you can think to say. You’ll repeat it over and over again if it rectifies the situation.

“Yeah, whatever.” He starts to leave the room, not even turning back around to say, “I’ll tell Harris you’re not feeling well.” He wants to ask you to call the hotel room when you get home but bites back the request. That’s something one partner asks of another, and you aren’t partners anymore, he realizes bitterly, and it’s his fault. He’d put the responsibility of parenthood on you far too quickly.

He could have insisted that Harris stay and nap with him rather than letting him go to the park. He could have kept Harris by his side while you got the ice cream, or the three of you could have gone together. Instead, he’d just assumed that this was a role you had no qualms about taking on. In his eagerness to build this little family, he’d squandered the foundation before it had even set.

Eddie watches as you walk away, the words wait and don’t go and we can figure this out lurking behind his molars, but he remains silent.

When the door slams behind you, he bites on his thumb. Go after her, some part of him—his conscience, maybe—nags, but he pushes the thought away. He can’t ask you to stick around and be a mom to his son if it isn't truly what you want to do.

He removes his finger from between his teeth and shoves his hands in his jacket pockets, temporarily confused when he’s met with some resistance. The tiny brown paper bag crinkles as his fingers make contact with it, and he pulls it out dejectedly.

He’d spotted the necklace while scavenging for record vendors and made a mental note to return to it when you weren’t there to see. A tiny metal heart on a chain that he’d planned to give to you at the end of the trip. It was the reason he’d left you alone with Harris; he’d wanted it to be a surprise.

“Well, that was a fuckin’ waste,” Eddie says to no one in particular, shoving it back in the confines of his pocket. He sits next to Harris, hoping Tommy Pickles’ shenanigans will melt his brain for just a few moments.

The next bus to Hawkins pulled up thirty minutes after your cab arrived at the station. It was the only way to get home, and an embarrassingly large part of you hoped that Eddie and Harris would swing by, enveloping you in a tight hug and promising you that you’re doing a great job. That you’re enough.

That moment remains a daydream, one that replays over and over as you lean your head against the window. It’s all highway from here to your small town, close to three hours on the road because of the intermediate stops, but you’re in no hurry to return. If it hurts now, you can’t imagine the pain when the loneliness sets in.

Of course Eddie wasn’t coming to rescue you; you’d let him down right when he’d needed you. It was all so superficial on your end, thinking that you could be a mother just because you’d taught Harris how to read and have dinner with him and his dad once a week.

Wallowing in pity is too indulgent, too pathetic, but you can’t keep from berating yourself. You’re a preschool teacher; how hard is it to remember to hold a kid’s hand?

Tears slip down your cheeks involuntarily and you swipe at them before your seat partner can notice. The last thing you need is to strike up an emotional conversation with a complete stranger.

And what is it with you and crying today? Getting choked up when Eddie had pointed out the donut mistake, feeling like you were going to have a meltdown alongside Harris, and now this? It’s like you have an endless supply of tears.

The most likely culprit is your run-of-the-mill PMS; you can always count on being overly sensitive on those select few days. You open your bag and take out the pocket calendar where you keep track of important appointments and dates, including your periods.

Today’s April 26. You flip back to March, rifling through the pages until you see that the first day of your last period was the twentieth.

You’re almost a full week late.

taglist (now closed):

@kelsiegrin @lma1986 @munsonology @stuckontheceiling @avobabe87 @eddapwinchester @peachysink @browneyes8288 @jeremyspoke-inclasstoday

@breezybeesposts @wednesdaymunson @feltonswifesworld87 @take-everything-you-can @bebe07011 @81rain @dylanmunson @oscarisaacwhore @eddiesguitarskills @everheart12 @etherealglimmer @hollster88 @wh0re4life @siriuslysmoking

@bibieddiesgf @winchester-angel @starlitlakes @avalon-wolf @hazydespair @josephquinncore @daydreaminglisa @sidthedollface2 @eddiebaemunson @mandyjo8719 @daydreaming-mood @aol19 @corkadymu @starcourtnights

@rockstarmunsons @metalhead-succubus @boinkybarness @oohworldofpisces @costellation-hunter @toobsessedsstuff @meadow20 @lost-in-the-stars03 @aysheashea @josephquinnsfreckles @eddiemunsonslittlemetalhead

@chamomileh0ney @dream-a-little-nightmare @emma77645 @kurdtbean @sheneedsrocknroll92 @tlclick73 @lolly-in-a-strange-land @bakugouswh0r3

@strangerthingsstories5255 @adaydreamaway08 @harmfulb1tch @mimischaos @averagemisfit03 @steddiegarbage @vigilanteshit @ellendemeyer152 @sierrahhh @hiscrimsonangel @mrsjellymunson @idkatee

@quentinswife @momowhoo @jasminelafleur @mmunson86 @mcueveryday @augustsgetawaycar @let-love-bleeds-red @tanyaherondale @bmunson86 @lg-123

#eddie munson #eddie stranger things #eddie x reader #eddie x you #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fanfic #fanfic #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things #tui

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twobluejeans · 9 months

Text

HEARTBREAK ON TOUR!

charles leclerc x famous!reader

summary: in which the lavender haze has been lifted. or in which america’s it couple splits.

part 9:foreign affairs, series masterlist

faceclaim: madison beer

ally’s radio 📻: PART 9! anyways, stan y/n l/n for clear skin and good grades!✨😌

INSTAGRAM, july 18

liked by carlossainz, landonoriss, and 12,654,234 others

yourinstagram mood :') gonna cry all day lol. thank you for your warmth. thank you for listening n hearing me. i love you.

View all 64,627 comments

ntltcy/n whoever said the second slide is so real

danielricciardo I said what I said

zendaya ma’am is taking up all 10 spots on the 10 ten…that’s my best friend ❤️!!!

channeleclerc16_ she should just stick to acting…

beyonce well deserved! the song brought actual tears to my eyes

yourinstagram beyonce screaming crying shaking…thank u, i love u always

leclerc_pascale beautiful girl congrats

yourinstagram leclerc_pascale thank u mama

drewstarkey on repeat i fear

ferarrileclerc i mean ... since the song is about charles that means he got another number one hit! charles congrats baby!

harrystyles A beautiful song from an even more beautiful person. Congratulations, Y/n/n—H.

ypurinstagram thank u sweet angel. miss you!

redlipclassicy/n harrystyles yourinstagram WHAT THE FUCK

JULY 18, 2023

Lola Ransdell Under Fire for Using the N-Word in Resurfaced Tweets

Not a good look.

BY ALLY JULY 17, 2023 11:15 AM

Lola Randell has some explaining to do. The 25-year-old came under fire on Sunday when Twitter users began resurfacing tweets of the model using the N-word in 2020. The receipts included direct messages and Instagram comments, in which Ransdell called her friends the racial slur, as well as tweets from Ransdell claiming that she could use the N-word because she’s “not white.”

In screenshots resurfaced by the Twitter PopHub, Ransdell can be seen calling someone an “ugly” N-word. The screenshots also include a group chat with some of her friends, in which she is called out for using the N-word. In her response, Randell explains that she can use the derogatory term because she’s not white. (Ransdell’s mother is Brazilian, but that still does not excuse her behavior.) “I’m not white tho so that’s awk,” Ransdell responded.

However, the receipts don’t end there. Along with the first screenshots, some users also resurfaced other old tweets, in which Ransdell said that she returned a “different race” after she spent some time tanning in Florida. (She accompanied the tweet with an emoji of a man with a turban.) Another screenshot also shows Ransdell liking a 2020 meme comparing Jay-Z to a Ransdell. One user also claimed to have a video of Ransdell rapping the N-word, though the audio is unclear.

Ransdell allegedly once tweeted, "leaving to Florida white but coming back to NY a different Race." The statement was accompanied by an emoji of a white blonde man and an emoji of a darker-skinned man wearing a turban.

A post from 2019 read, "With @chanteljefferies and that awkward moment when ur at a Chinese restaurant and your waiter isn't Chinese...."

The following year, she allegedly threatened, "Shut up before I smack you back to your own country!"

Screenshots also show the youtuber allegedly liking an Instagram post from 2018 about how only men and women should marry because the Bible says so.

Then there are the women-hating posts.

Ransdell allegedly liked an undated Instagram post showing a photo of Selena Gomez that posed the question, "Would you smack her for $835 BILLION?!" The person whose reply was featured in the meme read, "I'd smack her for a sweet tea from McDonald's."

In 2018, Ransdell allegedly tweeted about transgendered women" being "wicked slutty."

She's also been accused of openly hating on her boyfriend’s former partner, Y/n L/n.

Once a fan of Charles (and even of Charles and Y/n together), Ransdell seemingly turned on the 26-year-old singer when "Your/Ship/Name" was on the rocks.She allegedly once followed a Y/n L/n hate account on Instagram and allegedly favorited/liked a tweet from 2022 that showed a picture of Y/n and read, "She collects guys as if they were infinity stones."

How these receipts surfaced is unclear (many of them are private messages between Ransdell and her friends, so someone must have leaked them on the internet), but it’s certain that people aren’t happy with Ransdell using slur, even as a joke. After the tweets resurfaced, many users took to Twitter to call out Ransdell for her offensive behavior, as well as demand accountability and an apology from her and her Formula One boyfriend, Charles Leclerc.

SEE MORE RELATED POSTS:

• Charles Leclerc finally addresses messy breakup with Singer Y/n L/n.

•Harry Styles just commented on Y/n L/n’s Instagram post for the first time in 7 years.

• Miss Americana and The Heartbreak Prince: Harry Styles and Y/n L/n’s relationship timeline

INSTAGRAM, july 18

liked by f1wh0re, corneliastreety/n, and 546,782 others

y/naflorals CHAR!ES SPEAKING ABOUT MOTHER TODAY IN AN INTERVIEW

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dressy/n no comment.

lewismercedes ur joe king…ur joe. king.

leclerc16charles as a charles fan…idk either i’m sorry

TWITTER, july 18

INSTAGRAM STORIES, july 18

yourinstagram 9m

viewed by charlotee_siine, lewishamilton, and 245,321 others

TWITTER, july 18

ally’s radio 📻:i don’t like this chapter 😞. also pls know that anything that was mentioned within lola’s article is not something i condone!! pls don’t think i’m a bad person, it’s literally only just for the plot😭!! i got inspo off of hailey biebers old tweets sooo. if u see ur username but u weren’t tagged, it’s bc tumblr wouldn’t let me :( if u asked me to tag u and i didn’t, pls send me a message or inbox me bc it might’ve gotten lost 😭 i try to stay up-to-date but sometimes i miss people so pls lmk!!!

taglist 🦢🪩: @incoherenciass@dakotali@405rry@topaz125@sassyheroneckgiant@hevburn@itsmytimetoodream@ivegotparticulartaste@crowdedimagines @asterianax @haydee5010@scenesofobx@christinabae@magical-spit@dessxoxsworld@myareadsbooks@honethatty12@hopefulinlove@diasnohibng@gentlemonsterjennie1@hummusxx@eugene-emt-roe@taestrwbrry @perjarma @cxcewg@chimchimjiminie16@glow-ish@allywthsr @millyswife@mrsmaybank13@black-swan-blog27 @stargaryenx@lilsiz@ohthemisssery@leclerclvr@slytherinjimin3nthusiast@shessthunderstoms@cool-ultra-nerd@ncentic@playboykenz @canvashearts @tinyhrry @xeliaaaa @ifionlywould @gaviypedrisbride @callsignwindow @dhhdhsiavdhaj@chasing-liberosis@laneyspaulding19@a-daydreamersday@saikikusouswife@motorsp0rt@lifesuckslife@shessthunderstoms@drewsandsebastianswife @sainzluvrr@ietss @agustdlvr @sarahkaliii @sweethoneyblossom1@sticksdoesart @ayoanna @c0wgirlswag @ifionlywould @l1ghtaura @ellesmythe @avada-kedavra-bitch-187

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azsazz · 2 months

Text

Midnight Muse (Part 23)

Azriel x Reader [Art School AU]

Summary: You and your best friend Feyre have just moved into a new apartment for your sophomore year of college at art school. What you didn't know when you signed the lease is that you'd be living next to three rowdy boys.

Warnings: None

Word Count: 3,470

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5] [Part 6] [Part 7] [Part 8] [Part 9] [Part 10] [Part 11] [Part 12] [Part 13] [Part 14] [Part 15] [Part 16] [Part 17] [Part 18] [Part 19] [Part 20] [Part 21] [Part 22] [Masterlist]

_________________________________________

“So…” Feyre trails off and your gaze slides to hers in the mirror from where you’re brushing on blush. Your first date with Azriel is tonight and you haven't been able to focus on anything all day. “You and Azriel?”

“Yeah,” you respond softly, trying to fight the smile that’s tugging at your lips. She already knows the news since she’d come back home this morning with Rhys in tow, trying to get you to come out for breakfast with them. When they saw Azriel padding out of your room shirtless, her jaw almost hit the floor. She was sputtering like a child and her boyfriend helped her get her bearings, violet eyes glittering as he grinned at Azriel. You had shrugged at each other as Rhysand guided Feyre back out the door with a cheerful goodbye. “Azriel and I.” Her brown brows are still furrowed and you don’t like that look, swiveling around in the mirror to face her. “Is it that crazy of a concept? I feel like this kind of thing happens all of the time.”

“In movies,” Cassian pipes up, exclaiming. He’s sitting on your bed next to your best friend, having invited himself over an hour ago.

You eye him. “What are you doing here again, Cass? Shouldn’t you be hyping Az up or something?”

“Nah, he has Rhys for that,” he winks over at Feyre who only raises her eyebrows in response. “I’m here because I’m seeing you off tonight.”

“You’re not my dad,” you scoff, fishing in your makeup bag for your mascara.

“But I’d let you call me that anytime, (Y/N),” he jokes and you shake your head fondly at him.

“I’m sure Azriel is going to love to hear that you’ve been flirting again.”

Cassian hugs one of your pillows to his chest, flipping through a book that you left on the table beside your bed. You wonder if he’ll find the page Azriel bookmarked for you when he’d been flipping through it, saying he’d slipped in a cheeky note for you to find along with the naughty passage. “He knows what I’m about. And if he feels threatened, that’s on him. I can just remind him of all of the times he used to—” The ringing of his phone cuts off his sentence and he slides it from his pocket, checking the caller before answering, murmuring a quiet hello down the line.

He frowns and you cock your head, watching intently. It’s not a face you think you’ve ever seen Cassian do seriously, and the way that his body tenses, you wonder who could be on the other line.

“Yeah, I’m on my way,” he says finally, hanging up the phone and springing up from your bed. He tosses the pillow back to the head of the bed and strides towards the door, a concerning pull to his eyebrows that has Feyre calling out to him as he makes for the door.

“Everything okay, Cassian?”

“I, uh—yeah, everything’s fine. I have to go,” he says but his mind is already in another place. “See you later.”

You and Feyre share a look in the mirror.

“So much for seeing me off.”

She grins at you, sliding off of your bed to join you in front of the mirror. “Don’t worry, I’ll be here to do that.”

“Thanks,” you laugh, capping the mascara and putting it away. Leaning back a little, you admire your makeup in the mirror. “So, how are you and Rhys doing?”

You feel like you haven’t spent much time with Feyre lately, with her busy with her boyfriend and you busy with yours. Your boyfriend, the words have you giddy. You and Azriel are officially a couple now and everything feels right. There are no more late nights spent trying to get him to shut his music off or glaring at him when his eyes wander your way. Now, your nights are spent talking and kissing and touching. Lots and lots of touching.

Your heart stutters happily in your chest.

Feyre sighs dreamily. “He’s so great. I’m really glad we decided to move here this year, (Y/N).”

“Me too,” you grin stupidly at her and the both of you break out in giggles. “Fey, will you help me pick out some jewelry?”

Azriel told you to dress casually, something with jeans because somehow he convinced you to get back on that death-trap he holds so dear to his heart. It’s a sunny afternoon out, no clouds in sight, and it eases you slightly that you won’t have to ride it in the rain again, no matter how much you enjoyed being pressed up against him.

Now that you’re Azriel’s girlfriend, you’re free to press up against him whenever you want.

Naked, too.

“Here,” she says, hooking a necklace around your neck. She clasps it for you and you can’t help but stare at the blue gem that sits at the base of your neck, glittering in the light. It looks good, you think.

“Is it weird to be nervous?” you ask, playing with the pendent. “We’ve already had sex but I’m still feel all jittery.”

“Being nervous is completely normal,” Feyre answers, patting you on the shoulder. “You have to promise to tell me all about it when you get home.”

“I will,” you shoo her playfully, “I promise.”

You and Feyre chat lightly as you wait and it helps ease your nerves a little. She tells you about how excited she is about Halloween and asks if you think the both of you could convince the three boys next door to do a group costume with you. Cassian’s already been bragging about the insane pre-game party he throws every year before a night out at the bars, and you know you can easily get him on board.

A knock at the door sends your nerves skyrocketing again. You smooth down your shirt as Feyre rounds the corner to open the door, crossing her arms over her chest like a stern mother meeting her daughter's boyfriend for the first time.

She squeals when the door swings open to Rhysand on the other side. He laughs, sweeping her into his arms and guiding her backwards in his hug.

Your breath leaves your body at the sight of Azriel. He looks effortlessly handsome, his hair fingered through with a little gel even though he knows it’s going to be messed up from his helmet. His golden eyes gleam, crinkling at the corners with a smile when he catches your gaze.

He’s dressed in a simple black t-shirt but wears his leather jacket over it, the same one he had wrapped around your shoulders that night you spent in the rain. It’s pulled tight across his shoulders but he doesn’t seem to mind because the worn leather is comfortable.

Of course, he has his dark jeans on, and you catch his riding gloves peeking out of his pocket.

You move to him like a moth to a flame, eagerly accepting the kiss he bends down to give you.

“You look amazing,” he breathes against your lips, never able to part from you. Never wanting to part from you.

“Thank you, you look very handsome,” you compliment, holding him close by the flaps of his jacket.

“Ready to go?” he asks, and you nod eagerly, turning to say goodbye to Feyre and Rhys, who has his arms wrapped around her as they watch the two of you, grinning like fools.

“Where’s Cassian?” Rhysand asks, looking around the room. “I figured he’d be all up in Azriel’s business right now, playing the part.”

Feyre shrugs, answering. “We don’t know. He got a phone call and left right after.” Azriel and Rhys share a look that you can’t make out before Feyre’s continuing, sternly, “Don’t keep her out too late.” She points a finger at Azriel. He looks like he’s trying his best to stop himself from rolling his eyes and you stifle your laugh in the crook of your arm.

“Yes, ma’am,” he salutes, “See ya, Rhysie. Don’t have sex too loud tonight. Or on the couch.”

Rhysand only smirks in response. “Why? Is it your turn?”

Feyre smacks his chest and you drag Azriel out of the apartment before she can go at her boyfriend for that joke. You’ve all heard worse before from Cassian, so the quip rolls off of your shoulders easily…aaaand now you’re thinking about fucking Azriel on the couch.

“If we fuck on any couch, it’s going to be yours,” you comment as you step onto the elevator with him. Their couch is both bigger and comfier. You wouldn’t let Azriel suffer on your cheap, navy couch that you and Feyre got for a bargain.

“Fantasizing about fucking me on my couch, princess?” Azriel hums, his breath hot against the shell of your ear. The elevator feels almost stifling with the heat between you two, his eyes glittering with interest. “We can definitely make that fantasy come true. Do you have any others I should know about?”

“No,” you answer all too quickly, and you try not to think too hard about the intrigue that flares in his gold eyes. “How about you?” you aim the question back at Azriel as the elevator comes to a stop on the first floor, doors creaking open slowly.

You can feel his gaze on your face as he studies you, and he doesn’t answer until you’ve left the building, Azriel holding the door open for you. “No,” he answers, but you know it’s a lie.

It sparks interest in you, and when you cut him a glance from the corner of your eye, he’s smirking.

Two can play at this game, apparently.

Azriel shrugs out of his jacket and you’re taken back to the night when he’d given you a ride home in the storm as he helps you into it, admiring you in the loved leather before he tugs you closer. The smell of him is intoxicating to your senses and you don’t even care that the soon to be setting sun is warmer than usual because being encompassed in his jacket makes your heart flutter.

You’re pressed all up against his front and Azriel can’t help himself but to grin along with you, dipping his head down for one more kiss. He chuckles as your lips chase his, pressing up into him on your tiptoes to follow. Azriel plucks one of the helmets strapped to the back of his motorcycle and helps you into it with the promises of more kisses to follow throughout the night.

You have to squeeze your thighs together when he shoves his own helmet over that dark hair of his. He looks hot as fuck standing there with his tattoos on display, peeking out from under the sleeves of his shirt and creeping up his neck. Said t-shirt clings tightly to his chest as if he’s worn it because he knows what it does to you, and you follow the lines down his long body to his tight waist.

“Earth to princess,” Azriel calls, rapping on your helmet with his knuckles. You startle from your ogling, glaring up at him. The crinkles around his eyes and the shaking of his shoulders are clear signs of his amusement, and you can’t resist that blush that stains your cheeks. “Are you ready to go?”

“Yeah,” you answer, but it’s a bit muffled from the helmet. Azriel helps you on his bike and when you’re settled behind him, he takes your hands and pulls them tight around his waist.

“Hold on tight,” Azriel reminds you and your heart picks up its pace at both the proximity of your boyfriend and the fact that you’ve somehow allowed him to talk you into getting on the damned thing again. You tighten your thighs around his waist, wiggling even closer to him to make sure you’ve got a firm hold, and he groans like a man shot. “You keep grinding up against me like that, princess, and we’re going to go right back upstairs to that couch.”

That doesn’t sound so bad, you think. You don’t have to endure a nerve-wracking ride on the motorcycle where all you’ll be able to think about is how much your body might slide if you fall and you’d get to see Azriel’s pretty dick.

As if sensing the direction of your thoughts, Azriel takes off without another warning. You squeak softly, squeezing your eyes shut tight as he pulls away from the building.

You’re pretty sure he can feel the pounding of your heart against his back because at the first stop sign his hands come down to trace the length of your thighs, reassuring you with his touch. It helps settle you some, enough to peek your eyes open and watch the houses pass you by.

At some point in the ride, you actually find yourself enjoying it, muscles relaxing but your body still pressed in tightly to Azriel. You’re enjoying the feeling of the wind on your skin, pulling at your clothes and the feeling of Azriel’s warmth seeping through your front. You can understand how he feels so at ease like this, like a bat swooping through the night sky.

You arrive a few towns over where Azriel parks against a curb. It’s an artsy looking town, murals covering the sides of brick buildings, colorful storefronts calling to you left and right. The streets are bright from the streetlights and filled with laughter and a positive aura that stirs excitement in you, even more so when Azriel takes your hand.

“You okay?” He asks, a touch of concern flushing through those golden eyes. “The ride wasn’t too rough, was it?”

You shake your head, smirking up at him. “I’ve had rougher.”

He snorts, tugging you into him for a hug because your body pressed all hot up against his wasn’t enough. Azriel walks you down a block and down a pair of stairs. The walls are filled with graffiti and you look around in wonder while Azriel checks in with the young looking boy behind the counter.

He finds you, head tilted and eyebrows furrowed as you try and discern the oddly shaped letters painted on the wall before you. You have no idea what the word is supposed to say, it’s bright red coloring stark against the deep teal wall it’s painted on.

“Here you go.” Azriel hands you coveralls and you scrunch your face in confusion. He has his own pair, a deep navy, and in his free hand he holds two respirators.

“What’s all this for?” you ask, examining the beige jumpsuit he’s handed you. It’s clean and fresh, so you won’t complain.

“We’re spray painting,” Azriel answers almost sheepishly. At his tentative tone you look up, and you nearly grin. His cheeks are filled with warmth and you think this is the closest you’ve ever seen him to bashful.

“We are?” you ask, eager all of a sudden. You know it’s something Azriel said that he, Rhysand, and Cassian have fooled around with, and you’ve always enjoyed seeing the many tags and artwork created on buildings and trains. You even researched Bansky for one of your high school papers, finding his reasoning behind his works vastly intriguing, but you’ve never tried the medium yourself. “This is going to be fun!”

Azriel’s shoulders droop in relief. He hadn’t been one hundred percent confident in this choice for a date, but he thought dinner at a restaurant wouldn’t be enough to impress you and that going to see a movie was much too cliche.

He smiles softly, reveling in the excitement in your eyes. “I think so too.”

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

“Where do you get your inspiration from?” you ask Azriel, voice sounding muffled through the mask as you watch him paint a long, black line down the wall. The fan’s in the room are loud so you have to shout. You’d seemed nervous when you stepped into the room, cans of spray paint littered around the floor, the walls filled with intimidating artwork that you hardly had the heart to paint over, but now you’re most definitely enjoying yourself.

Azriel had been a reassurance from the get-go, explaining that everyone who booked time here comes in knowing that whatever they paint is going to be gone when the next guests arrive, so there’s no pressure to put on yourself, only to have fun.

And it is fun, getting a feeling for the can in your hand, how hard to press, how far to hold the can from the wall. Azriel showed you some techniques, guiding your hands in different motions to create perfect circles, to get the paint drips you were eyeing from someone else’s work. The only complaint you have about this date is that the masks make it difficult to kiss Azriel, who you’ve wanted to jump since he’d pressed his body flush against yours when showing you how to paint funky letters, his other hand a solid weight on your hip.

You’ve been in awe of him all night, sneaking looks over your shoulder at what he was painting; a skeleton stallion with a skeleton riding it, sword raised as if leading an army of the dead into war. He’s skilled in many mediums and your heart aches as you wonder how it’s possible that he hasn’t been able to receive an apprenticeship yet.

Something stings in your chest. The way that Azriel draws, paints, tattoos…there’s a confidence there that you’re envious of. Every spray he makes seems so sure, so well laid it’s like he can see the end result as he’s working. You yearn to feel like that.

“What do you mean?” he asks, eyes flicking to yours for a moment before returning to his work, letting you know that you have his full attention. You’re in the midst of painting the skeleton horse's eyes a bright neon green, whispers of black shadows swimming from its nostrils.

You sigh, abandoning your can of paint and wiping the remnants of the pigment on your coveralls. “All this time I’ve known that I want to be in art, that I want to do something with it, but everytime I make something, it never feels good enough. Like I’m not as proud of it as I should be. I don’t have a style like you or Feyre do, and, if I do, I haven’t noticed it yet.”

Azriel fully stops what he’s doing and turns to you. His hand comes up to caress your jaw, tilt your head up to look at him. His eyes are soft with concern and there’s a wrinkle between his brow that makes you want to reach up and smooth it out, suddenly embarrassed that you’ve brought this up during your perfectly good date.

“Is that how you feel?” he asks, and you shrug shyly. Maybe you shouldn’t have said anything at all, but it’s been something that eats at you, day by day. “It sounds like you’re missing a muse, princess.”

You frown. “A what?”

“A muse,” Azriel repeats simply. “Something that inspires you.”

Something that inspires you. You toss the words around in your head, thinking. Surely, you find things inspiring. You wrack your brain trying to come up with something, something that keeps you captivated, gives you the urge to put your pencils to your paper and create something beautiful…but there’s nothing.

“So, you’re saying you inspire yourself?” you tease, thinking back to his exhibition. You tease, because if you don’t laugh, you might cry. You can see the glint of amusement in his eyes, and you continue your soft jab. “How very narcissistic of you, Az.”

Azriel rolls his eyes and before you can joke further, he’s lifting his can of spray paint and marking you with a big heart across the entire front of your coveralls. Your mouth drops open in shock but his smirk makes the feeling roll right between your thighs.

“I believe that muses have the ability to change,” he answers your earlier question. He’s staring down at you intently, and maybe he’s waiting for you to pick up a can and retaliate. Or maybe he’s thinking exactly what you’re thinking: trying to find someplace to tear each other's clothes off.

“Oh, yeah?” you ask defiantly. You want to cross your arms over your chest but you don’t want to ruin his work. It feels like you’ve been branded by him, claimed by his artistic talent, and something flares within you at the very idea. “What’s your muse now?”

Azriel doesn’t answer but he doesn’t need to. The way he seems to be devouring you with his eyes tells you all you need to know about who his current muse is.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

MM Taglist Part 1: @justvibbinghere @nickishadow139 @going-through-shit @honeycriess @natashachelsea @thisisew @kennedy-brooke @cat-or-kitten @sourapplex @magical-mischief-makers @reiincarnatiion @ccucumebrs @secret-ly-here @throneofsmut @cami26cami @torchbearerkyle @a-frog-with-a-laptop @sevikas-whore @endless-worldss @vellichor01 @bangtans-jagiya @kalulakunundrum @pinksmellslikelove @sakura-frost3-blog @imxnotxhere @bookishbroadwaybish @justdreamstars @i-am-infinite @whichwitchisthebitch @i-am-a-lost-girl16 @sia-r @ssmay123 @blackthorngirl @haivenhoule @18crazybutcutealsopsycho @bloodicka @wilmalovegood @jw83 @acourtofbatboydreams @hannzoaks @judig92 @aaronwarnerobsessedmylove @ilikefictionalmen @harrystylesfan2686 @dr4g0ngirl @helensophie

#midnight muse #acotar #azsazz #acomaf #acowar #azriel #azriel x reader #azriel/reader #tattoo artist!azriel #artist!azriel #art school au #acotar au

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incognit0slut · 3 months

Text

Right Kind of Wrong (20)

She never thought she’d be involved in a murder investigation and encounter her one-night-stand again, the awkward guy who isn’t exactly that good in bed—Or is he? Offended by the sentiment, Spencer is determined to prove her wrong… But as he gets tangled with the beautiful stranger, he realizes there is more to her than what meets the eye.

Part Summary: Despite everything, she found herself feeling happy. Part Warning: 18+ explicit content (male and female oral, creampie, overstimulation, Spence is kind of a dom but is still sweet) A/n: this is just 4k words of pure smut, I hope you enjoy this last part of the series :')

Other parts: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19

"Spence, you need to open the door!" She whispered harshly. His response was to press himself further into her, relentlessly sucking on her neck as he pinned her against his apartment door.

The road to his place had been filled with sexual tension, each passing moment heightening the desire that simmered beneath the surface. When he mentioned taking her home, she didn't expect it to be his apartment.

"It's closer from here," he had said when he pulled her out of the planetarium, practically dragging her towards his car. "Do you mind?"

Of course, she didn't. In honesty, she would have let him have his way with her even if he had taken her to the nearest restroom, or even in the confines of his car. She was too aroused to think properly that at least three times she had initiated some desperate contact throughout their journey to his place.

The first one unfolded at a red light as she seized the opportunity, tugging him towards her before shoving her tongue in his mouth. The impatient blare of car horns stopped them from doing anything further. Then the next initiation came as a subtle yet provocative touch when she traced his leg, inching closer to his crotch. He threw her a look as he took a sharp intake of breath.

Although the third initiation wasn't exactly directed at him, it still held the same amount of torture. When she gracefully slipped her fingers right between her thighs, his grip on the steering wheel tightened, his foot pressing harder on the gas pedal. He watched as the speedometer increased rapidly. Even when chasing Unsubs he had never driven this fast before.

And now that they were finally inches away from his apartment, he couldn't wait any longer.

"Spence..." she giggled, but then her laughter died down when his hand traveled between her legs. "Let's go inside."

Without a second glance, he retrieved his keys from his pocket and thrust them into her hands. She huffed in amusement and gently pushed him, turning to face the door, but then she felt him pressing against her back as she struggled to unlock his door. "Baby..."

He groaned at the sweet sound of her voice calling him by the intimate nickname, realizing it was the first time she had used it. She them felt his hand circling her hips, his fingers starting to rub her clit over her dress. She was beyond grateful no one else was currently in the hallway to witness what was happening.

When she finally managed to get the key into the lock, a wave of relief washed over her. Without wasting any more time, she swung the door open to his apartment, and Spencer, right behind her, practically pushed her inside before slamming the door shut behind them.

"Take off your underwear," he ordered, pausing only to lock his front door. Too stunned to argue, she began inching up her dress but then he was suddenly dropping on his knees before her, grabbing the hem of her panties and yanking them down her legs impatiently.

His hands roughly shoved her hips into the wall before he lifted one of her legs onto his shoulder. Seconds later his face was between her thighs, his tongue greedily lapping up her arousal. Her head rolled back into the wall in astonishment, both hands coming to grip fistfuls of his hair.

"Oh, shit," she moaned out, hands gripping his curly locks tighter.

His mouth shifted while two of his fingers slipped inside of her. Her hips jerked and a long whine of his name spilled from her lips as he pressed his tongue to her clit. His fingers began working in and out of her tightening walls once just as his tongue flicked over her clit, seconds before he pressed against the swollen, aching bud to lick a stripe over her flesh.

"Fuck, don't stop," she cried out, voice hoarse and desperate. Spencer had no intentions of stopping as he sucked her clit even harder, his fingers driving into her faster, earning every sinful noise that left her lips.

Her eyes cast downwards only to see her dress covering the view between her thighs, so she grabbed onto the fabric and in one swift motion lifted it over her head before throwing it to the floor. Her hands found their way to on his hair again when she could finally see him at the same time his eyes glanced up to see her perky breasts on display. The satisfied groan that left his lips traveled along her skin and her head fell back as she rolled her hips against his face.

Her walls began to contract around his fingers, thighs tightening against his head. His tongue remained diligent in circling her clit, lapping up her juices to taste every last drop. She could even hear how wet she had become from the sloppy noises flooding the room, mixing with her whimpers and the groans filling his chest.

She was uncontrollably shaking by now and with one final deep breath, the pleasure consumed her entire body. His fingers slipped out of her to hold her hips in place as she cane undone for the second time tonight, but his tongue continued to work against her clit through every second of the bliss.

The first wave of pleasure turned into breathy moans, overly sensitive to his constant torture, yet he didn't pull away. He kept on tasting her until she could hardly take it anymore and her hands dived for his head to push him away.

He finally pulled away, and all that was left were broken breaths and shaking legs. He was satisfied with himself, giving her flesh a rubdown with his palm flat against her skin, soothing the tension while she tried to steady herself as he placed her leg on his shoulder back to the floor. When she attempted to kick off her heels, a firm hand wrapped around her ankle.

"Keep them on," he whispered, his voice carrying a command that sent shivers down her spine. She couldn't do anything but oblige as she watched him get on his feet before she felt the warmth of his lips taking hers.

She could taste herself as his mouth pressed desperately on hers, nibbling on her bottom lip until they were parting for him. He effortlessly slipped his tongue in her mouth and she couldn't stop herself from whimpering as her hands roamed along his body, seeking more of his skin.

So she pushed off his suit jacket to the floor, then tugged off his tie, and when her fingers hurriedly unbuttoned his shirt, he slightly pulled away, resting his foreheads against hers. "We—" he sucked in a sharp breath when he felt her undoing his pants. "We need a safe word."

Her movements faltered for a moment before she continued to pull out his shirt under his pants, and that too went to the floor. "What?"

"I-I don't think I can hold myself back." He then gasped as she slipped a hand inside his underwear, wrapping her fingers around his girth. He closed his eyes, jaw going slack as she continued to run her palm along his length. "A safe word... please."

His plea hung in the air, a vulnerable request amidst the rising intensity. Her fingers hesitated for a moment as she saw the conflict in his eyes, the battle between restraint and desire.

After a slight pause, her eyes scanned around the room before they settled on the chessboard on his coffee table, and finally whispered, "How about Chess?"

An amused smile played on his lips. "Chess?"

"Take it or leave it," she laughed. She then rendered him speechless by dropping to her knees and tugging his pants down. "Besides, I'm not going to use it anyway."

He was caught off guard by her bold move, his eyes widening slightly. A mixture of surprise and arousal flickered in his gaze as she held him gently by the base as she examined him, her eyes focused on the clear drop of wetness trickling out from his tip. It was unreal how gorgeous he was.

A groan tore itself from him as he laid his eyes on her taking him into her mouth while she held his gaze, making him pay attention to every inch of his cock disappearing slowly in between her lips. His mouth fell open as she worked him deeper, tongue working to coat him in spit, cheeks hollowing in to add suction every time she pulled him out.

His brows screwed together, his mouth going slack. She gasped off him, and he gasped with her, sounding almost pained as she teased him with her tongue, running it from root to tip and back. He threw his head back only to whip it down seconds later, unable to keep his eyes away from her, body shuddering each time she swiped her tongue from his base to his swollen tip.

He choked on a groan when she took him back into her mouth, pressing him into her throat. He sounded almost alarmed as she took him down her throat over and over again as if she was trying to push her limits. She continued to suck him, but then she slowed down when she sensed his doubt, the self-restraint lingering in his head.

"Let go, baby. I'm right here. You can use me," she said in between suckling and messily kissing the tip of his cock, hauling him to the edge. "Please."

There was a moment of hesitation, a silent battle within him before his resolve seemed to waver. His hands, which had been clenched by his sides, flew out to tangle in her hair, holding on with a vice grip. She moaned around his cock, encouraging and maybe a bit patronizing, even as she wrapped her lips around him again.

His hips started to thrust into her open mouth now, mindlessly chasing that familiar sensation as his eyes locked with hers; his pupils blown wide, his mind empty but for the pleasure coursing through his body. He started slow, pushing and pulling his hips, and groaned at the feeling of her tongue moving around his length.

Then between the grunts, moans, and whimpers leaving him, his pace sped up as he forced himself into her mouth. She was now gagging around his cock, spit trailing down her chin, tears slipping from her eyes as she gazed up at him. She felt the way his muscles tensed up like his whole body was going to combust on the spot before he quickly pulled himself out of her mouth with a wet pop.

"Come here." Ever the gentleman, he helped her with gentle hands as she got up on her feet and before she could think about what came next, he muttered, "Wrap your legs around my waist."

"What?"

A squeal left her lips as he abruptly lifted her off the ground and she instinctively wrapped her legs around him, her arms going around his shoulders. "Spencer! What's gotten into you?"

He simply answered her with a smile before making his way down to his bedroom. "I blame you for this."

She stifled a laugh. "You're blaming me for acting like a wild animal?"

"Is it... too much?"

"Are you kidding? I'm enjoying this side of you," she confessed, clinging onto him as she kissed the side of his neck. "Please continue."

His chest shook at the same time his laughter filled her ears. But the amusement in his voice disappeared as fast as it appeared when they finally entered his room before he placed her on the edge of his bed. "Get on your knees and face the other way."

She didn't have to be told twice, scrambling on the bed as her knees sank deeper into the mattress. She felt him push down hard against her and she obliged, lowering her face and upper body to the bed as his other hand remained holding her hips up in the air.

A hand landed on her ass with a sharp smack before he gripped a firm handful of it. His cock swiped back and forth along her folds, gathering her wetness, letting it coat around his tip. He moaned out a deep, pleasure-filled noise that reverberated around the bedroom as he lined up the tip of his cock at her entrance.

"I..." His mouth fell open when he watched the way her walls stretched around him, clamping around his cock as if she was swallowing him inside. "I really don't think I can hold myself—"

"Just fuck me already," she ordered, bending over the bed and pressing her ass back into him. "I don't care."

He abruptly plunged inside of her.

"Fuck, yes," she whimpered, arching her back. Both of his hands gripped her hips as he began to thrust into her. Her eyes rolled back, her eyelids dropping closed as she fisted the sheets tighter in her hands.

"You feel so good," he growled out behind her. "So perfect."

Shifting her head along the bed, she glanced back at him. She couldn't fight the way her cunt tightened around his cock at the sight of him using her body as he pleased. It was still hard to believe he was the same man who lacked experience when she first met him. Yet after all the times they had spent together tangled in pleasure, she could see the increase of confidence every time he touched her.

A particularly deep and brutal thrust had his cock hitting her perfectlyand she moaned out loudly, her mind going blank to everything but the pleasure he was giving her.

"Right there, baby," she begged him, squirming her hips against him for more.

With her cheek pressed to the mattress, she focused on the way he looked. His hair was a sweaty, mussed mess on his head, and there was a very obvious sheen of sweat glistening along his forehead. He was grunting and breathing heavily as his fingers continued to dig into her hips. Then another loud smack echoed throughout the room as one of his hands harshly landed on her ass. He slowly released her hips before he grabbed her by the arms, hauling her back.

She moaned loudly in response, her hips bucking eagerly into him as he fucked her like a man possessed. He plunged his cock so deep inside of her that her toes began to curl inside her heels—dear god, she forgot she was still wearing her shoes. She wondered if he realized how much bacteria could stick on his sheets, but with the way he was thrusting relentlessly into her, she was sure the only thought he had at this moment was their connected bodies moving in sync.

His grip on her arm tightened to the line bordering between pain and pleasure just as his thrusts sped up to a pace faster. It felt so good she hadn't even noticed the way the pleasure built until it was nearly unbearable.

"I-I'm gonna—"

A scream ripped out of her as she felt her body shaking. Her orgasm hit her so suddenly and she didn't resist it, letting it wash over her and sear through every muscle. Her body writhed and she thrust her hips against his, grinding herself through her release despite him not slowing down. A final gasp filled the room, signaling the pleasure overwhelming her body, before he let go of her arms and she flopped back onto the bed.

Her orgasm slowed down to a stop and she took a deep breath before another loud and unrestricted moan released through her exhale as he flipped her onto her back. He smiled crookedly at her, cupping the backs of her knees, crudely pinning them to her chest as he suddenly stuffed himself back inside.

With her completely pinned beneath him, she couldn't do anything except cry out and wail in pleasure. His eyes were locked on the way she was stretched so wide around his girth. Spencer was known for his aversion to getting dirty, and for his meticulous nature, yet he found the messy tangle of their bodies didn't bother him in the least. The fresh white cream coating around his cock only fueled his pleasure.

It was warm, wet, and fucking messy.

"T-Touch yourself," he choked on his words, voice breaking as they came out. He was so close that it hurts. "Play with yourself for me."

Her hand flew down to do as she was told without a second thought. It only took a few, quick circles around her swollen clit before she was coming again, her heels kicking helplessly in the air. She had lost count of how many orgasms she had tonight, but she gladly accepted it as her back arched off the bed.

Spencer groaned at the sight of her losing herself beneath him. He watched as her fingers continued to rub her clit desperately, forcing herself to come even harder until a gush of liquid squirted around him. It splattered everywhere—across his hips, thighs, and even his chest. It made his eyes roll up into the back of his head before he let his head fall back, his jaw going slack while he let out a loud and deep moan as his orgasm finally washed over him.

His warmth filled her core and she felt his pace slightly falter before he continued with short, aborted little thrusts. His cock pulsed inside of her, each vein had a throbbing heartbeat that struck so painfully good against her walls. But even when his orgasm dissipated, he found himself rutting his hips into the creamy mess dripping out of her cunt.

"S-Spence," she choked out, gasping when his cock hit right into the pleasurable spot inside her. "I-It's too much. I c-can't."

"Just say the word," he panted, almost deliriously, "S-Say the word and I'll stop."

The sensations overwhelmed her, yet despite the intensity, she didn't want him to stop. Her unspoken desire was palpable, and he read her so well that her silence was all he needed to continue.

He released his grip on the back of her thighs as he shifted his weight onto his left arm, his right hand coming up to brush some hair off of her face tenderly before it landed back on the bed. He then leaned down, pressing his lips against hers at the same time her arms wrapped around his neck.

She was trembling and twitching with each one of his thrusts. He felt a pang of remorse for her, he could tell she was tired and overstimulated but he just needed to wring one last orgasm out.

"One more," he cooed sweetly against her lips. "Let me use you once more, can I do that?"

"Y-Yes," she whimpered, nodding her head as her eyelids fluttered in exhaustion.

Lowering onto his elbows, his body molded itself over the top of hers. Her hands were hungrily grasping at his back, attempting to bring him somehow closer as her hips rocked up into his again. She could feel the hard lines of him pressed to every inch of her; she could feel the flex and pull of his muscles with each of his fluid, rhythmic thrusts.

His movements slowed down, each deliberate thrust filled with a different kind of intensity. It wasn't the same urgency as before; instead, it was deliberated and unhurried, and he seemed to savor every moment as if etching it into his memory. He pressed himself further into her, a desperate need evident in the way he sought closeness as if he couldn't get enough of her.

He shifted, lowering his mouth to her neck. He began leaving affectionate, open-mouthed kisses along the length of it. Her back arched underneath him at the feel of him surrounding her so wholly, his cock burying itself repeatedly inside of her. She could feel her peak nearing again, her eyes rolling back as a high-pitched whine fell out of her mouth.

"S-Spence," she cried out, nails beginning to claw at his back now as she clung to him.

"I know," he answered, voice strained himself as he pulled his face away from her neck. "I know, Sweetheart. Let go for me, I got you."

His sweet, affectionate voice sent her over the edge. The way he held her, the way he peppered kisses along her lips, cheek, and neck, revealed a depth of emotion beyond the physical pleasure. It wasn't merely about finding release; it was an intimate exchange of passion. At that moment, she realized how much his feelings had grown, and she burned just as intensely for him.

"Oh, god," she whimpered at his voice, cunt gripping his cock. "Spence, I'm–"

A loud moan cut her off, her right hand releasing its hold on his back, flying up to grip a fistful of his hair. Spencer practically groaned in response, his hips beginning to stutter as her orgasm overtook her once again. She held him tighter, her body quivering beneath him as her moan gradually broke off.

His forehead lowered to hers, his sharp breaths falling over her with each of his rough exhales.

"That's my girl."

She was practically crying by now, caught in the whirlwind of pleasure and affection. She wasn't sure which emotion held a stronger grip, maybe both. But whatever it was, she surrendered to the overwhelming sensation, letting it wash over her as she held onto him.

His hips continued their movements, dragging her through the end of her release as he was nearing his own. She could hear the rumbling groan building in his own throat, his face abruptly falling against her chest.

A moment later he choked out a moan at the same time he roughly thrust himself deep inside of her, gasping as he came for the final time. His cock twitched almost painfully inside her as he slowly rocked his hips, wincing at the overstimulation and filling her up at the same time.

He thrust into her a few more times before his hips finally stilled. Her hands began running soothingly along his back as he slipped out of her and then collapsed atop her, still careful to keep from crushing her.

His skin was damp with sweat from his exertion, his shoulders heaving as he tried to catch his breath. He rested his cheek against her chest and a happy noise fell out of his mouth as he relaxed. Her voice was the first thing that broke the silence. It wasn't even a spoken word, but a soft, girly giggle that he turned his head to look at her.

"What?"

She smiled at him. "You called me your girl."

He looked at her in amusement. "Well, aren't you?"

A hint of uncertainty lingered in her expression. "I don't know. Am I?" She sighed, the weight of unspoken emotions in the air. "We just... we haven't talked about this. I didn't want to assume things."

He took a moment, gathering his thoughts, a visible struggle for someone not accustomed to verbalizing deeper feelings. "Y/n," he finally began, the sincerity in his voice cutting through any hesitation. "I risked my life for you. Of course, you're my girl."

Her heart swelled at the gravity of his words, the unspoken commitment hanging in the air. It was a vulnerable moment, and yet, he had chosen to express himself. She gazed into his eyes, finding a depth of sincerity that touched her heart.

"I'm not good with words," he continued, his thumb tracing circles on her skin. "But I do care about you. More than I've cared about anyone in a long time."

A warmth spread through her chest at his admission. It was a vulnerable side of him she hadn't seen often, and it made her appreciate the depth of their connection.

"I care about you too," she replied softly, her fingers running along his damp hair. "More than I expected."

His smile was genuine as he turned onto the bed, pulling her against his chest. "Then I guess we're each other's," he declared.

The woman she used to be wouldn't have envisioned herself in this present moment, considering the twists and turns life had taken in the past few months. Despite everything that had happened, a subtle happiness filled her, a sentiment she cherished deeply. Her smile deepened, and a soothing sense of contentment settled between them as she eased into the comfort of his arms.

His words enveloped her like a comforting embrace. It wasn't a grand gesture, but it was genuine, and in that quiet moment, it felt more than enough.

>> EPILOGUE

taglist #1

@tereresrock @casthings @vader-is-hot @maevethelesbian @whereintheworldisspencerreid @reidverseq @niyahwhoreworld @l4venderia @theintrovertedthespian @lovelyxtom @tayzerr-72 @mulbsstuff @dorothleah @stevenknightmarc @prettyboyspenceee @gracesmusings @kalulakunundrum @fearlessmoony @r5court @simp4f1 @thecrazytealady @nyeddleblog @ghostheartbeat @comfortzonequeen @iiheartbowie @busy-buzzing @imtherealslimmoony @baeofevery @elamultistan @lyxennz @additi @donttrustlove @notahappystan @daisiesfor-mylove @pinkpantheris @jamieeboulos @thegeniusreider @bxtchopolis @kr-1-sta @emotionalsassqueen @shqwqrma @super-nerd22

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PLEASE READ: If you already asked me to be added but you're not on the list OR you want to be added in the future, please comment on this post so I can see it. But make sure your blog can be searched or I can't tag you. Or if you want to be removed you can also tell me. Thank you :)

Don’t forget to interact with the story!

809 notes · View notes

mondothebombo · 5 months

Text

✨Small Canon Things in Ninjago That Aren’t Necessarily Important to the Plot, but Important to Me Pt 2✨

(in honor of the first post reaching 2.5k notes)

1. the reason the ninja can’t summon their elemental dragons anymore is bc they’re too traumatized

2. Kai takes laxatives

3. Lloyd felt responsible for Nya’s sacrifice

4. Morro took a shot while he was in Lloyd’s body

5. Cole’s favorite color is orange

6. Chamille, the master of form, is a “bad girl” post s4

7. the ninja were literal children when they waltzed into Chen’s tournament and proceeded to beat all the adult EMs in the competition

8. prior to seabound, Nya resented her parents for not being there in her childhood, her mother more so than her father (✨mommy issues✨)

9. Nya is hyper-independent as a result of her childhood; while Kai is more openly accepting to his parents because he has a better memory of them

10. Wu was close enough with Lilly that he could remember whether or not she wore a necklace

11. Cliff Gordon was a “womanizer”

12. Lloyd didn’t naturally hit puberty until s8

13. Cole and Jay are best friends

14. whether or not you see Pixane as a bf/gf situation in canon, they are canonically soulmates

15. Jay has not yet received his inheritance letter

16. at least up until the Merge, Zane’s statue is still in downtown Ninjago City

17. ninjago citizens are fully aware their only protection are six super-powered teens/young adults

18. the ninja are still famous, public figures

19. Jay is the only ninja who hasn’t died (yet)

20. despite being a terrible actor, Lloyd is always sent on the undercover missions

21. the ninja are on first name basis with each others parents

22. Cole’s favorite genre of music is soft rock

23. Zane has selective memory

24. after Nya’s sacrifice, each ninja depicted a different stage of grief (Zane-Denial, Kai-Anger, Lloyd-Depression, Jay-Bargaining, and Cole-Acceptance)

25. Cole never actually had feelings for Nya, he was just flattered by the attention and petty about Jay being mad at him

26. elements react based on the master’s emotions

27. Jay is so emotionally dependent on being around other people that he loses his mind when he’s alone for too long

28. Lloyd had a chat with god and wasn’t impressed

29. Cole’s snoring can be heard throughout the monastery

30. Nya is not a morning person

31. Kai and Skylor have been in a situationship since s4

32. Lloyd being the grandson of god is not common knowledge

33. the group of civilians that were on the bounty when Cole fell are probably the only ones who truly realize the danger the ninja put themselves in on the regular to protect the city, and how close they are with each other

34. Wu didn’t want to tell the ninja about the green ninja prophecy because he was afraid of having a repeat of Morro

35. since s8 at the very least, the ninja all shared a room on the bounty until the monastery was rebuilt

36. Jay’s confidence in his own abilities fully depends on what others believe he’s capable of

37. several villains have called the ninja out on being “just a bunch of kids,” and then proceeded to get their shit rocked by said kids

38. the overlord can gloat to Lloyd all he wants to in crystallized, but fact of the matter is Lloyd defeated him when he was like twelve

39. Kai and Nya raised and took care of each other, it wasn’t just Kai doing all of the work

40. Kai is two years older than Nya

41. Zane’s biggest fear is losing his humanity

42. Lloyd’s biggest fear is becoming his father

43. Nya’s biggest fear is losing her individuality

44. Cole’s biggest fear is letting his family down

45. we the audience are the only ones who see the characters as legos; they’re real people in-universe

46. Kai likes spicy food

47. while elemental masters are immune to their elements to some extent, their elements can also be shown to hurt them in some circumstances

and as always, feel free to add on!!

#ninjago #ninjago dragons rising #mondo’s metas #my hcs #mondo’s hcs #ninjago jay #ninjago nya #ninjago cole #ninjago kai #ninjago lloyd #ninjago zane #ninjago wu #ninjago dragons rising spoilers #kinda

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spicysighs · 11 months

Text

Matty Healy + Taylor Swift Timeline

11/7/13: Matty talking about Taylor liking the band and being asked to tour with her.

1/21/14: Matty talking about Taylor liking the band. xx

3/31/14: Matty talks about being asked to tour with Taylor and turning it down. "That was cool. It’s like, ‘We can’t, but that is really nice, thank you very much.”

11/4/14: Matty is pictured wearing a deluxe 1989 album cover tee at his concert in Milwaukee.

11/8/14: Taylor reblogs the picture on tumblr and says they are her favorite band.

11/9/14: Taylor likes these two pictures of Matty wearing the 1989 t-shirt.

11/9/14: Taylor liked this gif-set of Matty talking about whether he’s a dog or cat person.

11/19/14: Selena Gomez, Taylor and other friends went to The 1975 show in LA. Video of them singing along to ‘The City.’

11/19/14: Taylor & Matty making a video for a fan. (Jamie’s daughter Kitty)

11/22/14: Matty follows Taylor on Twitter.

11/23/14: Taylor was pictured wearing a The 1975 band shirt.

11/23/14: Taylor likes these two posts of them wearing each others merch.

11/24/14: Matty dedicates ‘Robbers’ to Taylor. Supposedly he’s done this multiple times. xx

11/25/14: Taylor likes these Tumblr posts. And this picture of Matty.

11/26/14: Taylor likes this Tumblr post.

11/26/14: Matty likes Taylor’s post on Instagram.

11/26/14: Matty wearing the 1989 t-shirt again.

11/26/14: Matty talking about meeting Taylor "I met Taylor Swift, that was really nice." and when asked about possibly dating "I mean bloody hell, what am I going to do? Go out with Taylor Swift? She's a sensation, I wouldn't say no."

11/28/14: Taylor is rumored to have attended The 1975 show in Chattanooga, TN.

11/29/14: Taylor likes this Tumblr post.

11/29/14: Matty signed this Polaroid for a fan, and the fan talking about the interaction.

11/29/14: Matty says he can’t kiss a fan because he’s taken.

12/2/14: Matty’s mom retweets this.

12/2/14: Matty likes Taylor’s Instagram post.

12/3/14: Matty about Taylor “Well, she’s amazing. She’s an amazing role model. And not only is she an incredible songwriter, she’s an incredible pop songwriter, which I think is even harder. I can’t speak highly enough about Taylor Swift.”

12/4/14: Taylor, Martha, Karlie and others went to The 1975 show in NYC. Where Matty dedicated ‘fallingforyou’ to her. Rumored that Matty missed the after-party and spent the night with Taylor. xx

12/5/14: Taylor likes this Tumblr post about Matty singing ‘fallingforyou’ to her.

12/5/14: Matty’s tweet in response to articles about him and Taylor getting his name wrong.

12/6/14: Matty has a breakdown on stage in Boston, MA. In 2015 talking about the incident he says “There was girl stuff. There was family stuff. There was financial stuff. There was drug stuff.”

12/6/14: Matty talking about a fan saying “I love you” to him. “What did I say to the poor fucking girl? ‘You don’t have the right to love me. You don’t know me. I love you but you don’t get to love me.’ Jesus. Can you imagine your favorite band shouting that at you? What a dickhead. What a horrible thing to say to a kid who fucking does love me.”

12/9/14: Matty at a show in NY “I was sad the other day as someone told me they loved me. And I said ‘No, you don’t. Not really.’ And today I told someone I loved them. And they said ‘No, you don’t.’ And it fucking sucks to hear that. Especially when you mean it. Don’t do that to someone. Don’t do what I did.”

12/14/14: Matty posts this on Instagram.

12/30/14: Matty deletes this Instagram post.

1/16/15: Matty denies dating rumors. Admits they exchanged numbers but “That didn’t really happen as much as it’d be amazing for me if it did, unfortunately it didn’t.”

2/25/15: They hangout at the BRIT Awards afterparty. (This weekend is when she met Calvin and they started dating)

2015: Matty & Halsey date and breakup.

11/15/15: Matty talks about Taylor in an interview “The things that surround her are like Barack Obama. I fell for her a little bit, but everyone falls for Taylor Swift” “The day after she’d been to a show of ours, someone sent me a screenshot of E! News with the headline ‘Who is Matt Healy?’ That freaked me out. I’m not ready to indulge in that world and I’m not ready to be judged by that world.”

12/8/15: Matty talks about reaching out to Taylor to have her in his music video.

Sometime in 2015: Matty & Gabriella Brooks start dating.

2/1/16: Matty talking about Taylor “She was a fan of the band and we just became friends, and we related to each other over how mental our lives were. But when you’re with people like Taylor, there are a million people flying around you the whole time, and this security guard is talking to that guy, and this guy is the new manager. I didn’t like the pace of it, because it makes me confused and I feel like I’m going to miss something. And being perceptive is one of the abilities that I like to think that I have.“

3/17/16: Matt Healy has suggested that dating Taylor Swift would have been "emasculating" for him because of her huge global fame.

3/18/16: Journalist who interviewed him writes an op-ed saying his words were misconstrued and "I saw an intelligent and liberal man wrestling with our culture’s gender roles."

3/19/16: He apologizes for said comments and calls Taylor "One of the most gracious, hard working, creatively gifted, and beautiful women that I have had the pleasure to meet."

6/1/16: Taylor & Calvin Harris breakup.

6/15/16: Taylor starts dating Tom Hiddleston.

8/17/16: Matty says he has Taylor’s number but “she’s probably changed her number by now.” And jokes “I keep texting her.”

8/30/16: Matty talks about Taylor on the BBCR1's Breakfast Show. They joke about Taylor doing jury duty.

9/6/16: Taylor & Tom Hiddleston breakup.

October 2016: Taylor & Joe Alwyn start dating.

10/27/16: Matty about Taylor in Rolling Stone “She came to our show, and you would have thought that Barack Obama had come out. I don’t know another person on the planet that would elicit that kind of reaction.”

11/11/16: Matty again denies he dated Taylor and says “She came to a show and we hung out. We fancied each other, but then we couldn’t have it go any further, because it would be like going out with Barack Obama.”

11/20/17: Podcast talking about Taylor & Matty.

12/3/18: Matty talking about his journal “It’s mainly stories that I write about my dreams of being in love with other popstars.”

12/4/18: Matty retweets a picture of Taylor.

8/28/19: Matty & Gabriella Brooks breakup.

9/23/19: Mentions wanting to produce an album for Taylor in an interview (at 13:48 & 32:00) “Taylor, if you ever want someone to help you set up the mics for your little acoustic record, just so you know, I’m there.”

9/23/19: Matty retweets and tags Taylor in a post quoting him saying he wants to produce an album for Taylor.

9/24/19: Matty tweets “Taylor Swift. With an acoustic guitar. Doing her ‘Nebraska’. Doing her ‘Blue’. Kill me.”

January 2020: Matty & FKA Twigs start dating.

2/12/20: Both attend the NME awards and hug. Beabadoobee (who Taylor is talking to in the video) about meeting Taylor that day “Taylor’s so ethereal, So badass, I was like ‘Holy shit!’ She was walking towards me and I’m like, ‘She’s going to Matty [The 1975] not me.’ And then she comes up to me and I’m like... I vomited in my mouth. I couldn’t believe it.”

2/20/20: Matty mentions seeing Taylor and wanting to work with her in an interview with Zane Lowe. “She was just stood behind me. I mean, I haven’t seen Taylor in years so it was actually a really nice room. But it, unfortunately, wasn’t the time for me to pitch my post-rock Joni Mitchell project.”

10/22/20: Deuxmoi posts these.

2021: Matty starts working with Jack Antonoff on The 1975′s upcoming album.

November 2021: Taylor and Jack Antonoff start working on “Midnights.”

6/7/22: Matty & FKA Twigs breakup.

8/9/22: Matty Healy shares Taylor Swift’s reaction to The 1975’s new album, with her saying “it’s so funny.”

9/3/22: Matty says there will be no collab on Midnights. “I would love that! But unfortunately FAKE NEWS :(”

10/7/22: Matty tweets “You guys actually thought Taylor Swift was gonna have me on her album”

10/11/22: Matty on working with Taylor “Oh we’re not. We’d love to. Love to work with Taylor Swift. Love Taylor Swift, think she’s one of the best songwriters, but yeah, no we haven’t done that. We’d love to though.”

10/11/22: The 1975 discuss covering ‘Lover’ for the BBC live lounge.

10/12/22: Matty briefly mentions Taylor in a Zane Lowe interview (45:53).

10/18/22: Matty briefly mentions Taylor in a podcast (1:22:40) when talking about who they would like to see on the podcast. Interestingly enough her name seems to be cut from the video version of the podcast.

10/23/22: Matty posted on his Instagram to stream Midnights.

10/26/22: Matty posted he was listening to ‘Hey Stephen TV’ on his Instagram story

11/27/22: Matty said he worked on Midnights with Taylor but their versions didn’t make the cut (4:52). “We actually worked a bit on that, but then the version of it never came out.” “It was for reasons not to be criticized.”

12/21/22: Matty said ‘Chocolate‘ reminds him of Taylor “Tumblr, Doc Martens, Taylor Swift, the 1975”

‘Question…?’ Played in The 1975 pre-show playlist. (Don’t have dates because it happened multiple times)

1/12/23: Matty & Taylor before The 1975 show.

1/12/23: Taylor does a surprise performance at The 1975 show in London. Deuxmoi later claims they stayed up until 4 am talking (later confirmed in his profile with The New Yorker.)

1/12/23: Matty “I’m not kissing anybody in front of Taylor Swift, have some respect. in front of the queen? not happening"

2/2/23: Matty briefly mentions Taylor and the Ticketmaster situation (38:06)

February: Allegedly spent several days at a Los Angeles recording studio together.

3/15/23: Matty seen with Ana Salazar.

3/17/23: First show of The Eras Tour

3/22/23: Puff-piece comes out stating Joe and Taylor are ‘great together’ and ‘super supportive of her career’ and will be travelling to her ‘when he can’.

‘About You’ plays at the same time as the Lover MV has been playing on The Eras Tour pre-show playlist. (Don’t have dates because it happened multiple times)

3/29/23: Matty’s ex says “Things were going well until around March 29th then, out of the blue, he stopped replying to my messages and calls.”

3/31/23: Taylor changes The Eras Tour setlist from ‘Invisible String’ to ‘The 1’

4/7/23: Matty follows Taylor on Instagram.

4/7/23: Matty likes Taylor’s Instagram post.

4/8/23: Matty’s birthday.

4/8/23: It's announced Taylor and Joe have broken up.

4/8/23: Matty talking about love and how happy he is.

4/10/23: Matty deactivates his social media accounts.

4/10/23: Matty on why he deactivated “Everything happens in eras. The 1975 is a very eras band. And I think that the era of me being a fucking asshole is gonna come to an end.” and “I perform all the time and it’s my job and I love doing this, but I can’t perform off the stage any more as I just want to be a bloke.”

4/10/23: Matty says “Hey, I love you.” during ‘About You’.

4/10/23: Matty mouths “You know who you are.” and points during ‘About You’.

4/11/23: Matty “A call for something sincere and direct. That’s what we’re all looking for. That’s what I’m looking for. Maybe I’ve found it.. I’m feeling quite happy.”

4/13/23: Deuxmoi says she got a tip that Matty & Taylor are dating. (19:16)

4/14/23: Matty cheering during ‘Me & You Together.’

4/14/23: Matty “Romance is nice when it works, this next song worked.” ‘fallingforyou’ starts playing “Oh it’s a different song, this song did not work.”

4/14/23: Before ‘About You’ “Ok, this is the one that worked.”

4/14/23: Matty mouthing “I love you” during ‘About You’ and saying “Fuck yeah, I win!” after it ends.

4/16/23: Matty’s “Yeah you will!” during ‘Happiness’ after the line, “I’m never gonna love again.”

4/19/23: Matty says “It takes bit to get here but its worth it” and “true story” before playing ‘Me & You Together.’

4/21/23: Matty plays a cover of ‘The Best of Me’ by The Starting Line. Take note of the lyrics.

4/24/23: Matty spoke about how he sees people listening to ‘She's American’ in three places: Manchester, Tokyo and Pennsylvania “that’s a whole other thing don’t worry about that.”

5/3/23: The Sun reports Matty and Taylor are dating and will go public with their romance at her shows in Nashville.

5/3/23: Matty introducing ‘Me and You Together song’, saying “I’ve got something real to tell you guys!”

5/3/23: Matty mouths “This is about you, you know who you are. I love you.” while playing ‘About You.’

5/3/23: Matty does a cover of ‘The Best of Me’ by The Starting Line again.

5/4/23: Matty introducing ‘Me and You Together song’, saying “So I’ve been trying to tell you guys” and “That’s right.”

5/4/23: Before playing ‘About You’ Matty mouths "This is why I'm happy. Who is it about? Who am I talking to?"

5/4/23: Matty is seen mouthing the words "I love you" before writing the letter T on the camera lens.

5/4/23: Matty saying “she sure is” before playing ‘She's American.’

5/4/23: Matty flies from Manila to Nashville. (Which is around a 20hr flight)

5/5/23: Matty at Taylor’s concert. Nashville night 1.

5/5/23: Taylor mouths “This is about you, you know who you are. I love you.” during ‘cardigan.’

5/6/23: Matty grabbing coffee accompanied by Taylors bodyguard after leaving Taylors condo.

5/6/23: Matty at Nashville night 2. xx

5/6/23: Matty & Taylor pictured arriving at Taylor’s condo together.

5/7/23: Matty at Nashville night 3.

5/11/23: Matty and Taylor spotted on a date with Jack Antonoff in NYC. More pictures here.

5/12/23: Matty at Philly night 1.

5/13/23: Matty at Philly night 2.

5/13/23: Taylor performs ‘This Love’ with no introduction.

5/14/23: Taylor plays a request of “Hey Stephen”, but doesn’t say who requested it.

5/14/23: Matty pictured at the VIP tent at The Eras Tour Philly night 3

5/15/23: Matty and Taylor pictured leaving a party at Electric Studios in NYC.

5/18/23: Article comes out saying Joe is 'distraught and slighted' over Taylor & Matty dating, saying he ‘trusted’ Taylor when she said they were just friends.

5/18/23 Matty entering Taylor’s NYC Apartment.

5/20/23: Matty’s ex talks about Matty and Taylor.

5/20/23: Taylor’s speech before playing ‘Question...?’ in Foxborough, MA. "I want you all to know that I've never been this happy before in my life. It’s not just with the tour, I just sort of feel like my life finally feels like it makes sense. And so I thought I’d play this song, which brings me a lot of happy memories."

5/20/23: Taylor plays ‘Question...?’ on night 2 in Foxborough, MA.

5/22/23: Matty dropping Taylor off at Electric Lady Studios.

5/24/23: Taylor and Matty leaving the Electric Lady Studios separately.

5/27/23: The Sun reports Matty and Taylor are moving in together.

5/29/23: Matty’s profile with The New Yorker comes out which includes multiple mentions of Taylor.

5/29/23: From The New Yorker “Healy found it annoying that, at a certain level of fame, celebrities can cultivate liberal auras while avoiding the risk of taking real political stands. (Swift, I thought, but didn’t say, seemed to be excepted from his critique.)”

5/29/23: From The New Yorker about Taylor & Matty dating “ Neither of their representatives would comment on the record, but I kept getting texts from people who knew them, and who insisted: this time, it’s real.”

6/5/23: Matty & Taylor reportedly break up.

6/6/23: People releases an article saying "There is no drama, and who knows what could happen again.” and "Taylor and Matty still care for one another but they are in the middle of world tours so both are incredibly busy. They've been friends for years and are still friends."

6/6/23: While discussing Taylor on his podcast (21:06) Zach Sang says "I'm like kind of friends with Selena Gomez. We've known each other for a very long time and we share a lot of close friends. And from what I heard like in the aura around Selena, Taylor was talking about Matty Healy like he was the one."

6/11/23: Matty reactivates his Instagram.

6/11/23: Matty “You know what’s nice, playing songs in context“ before ‘Me and You Together song’

7/1/23: Matty mentions Taylor "I don’t wanna use this thing [the catwalk], it feels very democratic, it feels very… I mean Beyonce of course, Taylor, Machine Gun Kelly, whoever it may be… I don’t like it, it makes me feel exposed."

7/5/23: The Sun claims Matty & Taylor are back together and “want to make it work at all costs.”

7/5/23: People declines claims that they are together.

7/18/23: Matty briefly mentions Taylor “I speak about this a lot, the Tumblr times, the simpler days, the golden days. When it was just us and Taylor and Lana and Arctic Monkeys.”

7/22/23: Taylor removes ‘About You’ from The Eras Tour pre-show playlist.

8/7/23: Matty is seen with Meredith Mickelson at an airport in Hawaii.

August 2023: Taylor starts dating Travis Kelce.

September 2023: Matty starts dating Gabbriette.

December 2023: Multiple people receive miss prints of “1989 (Taylor’s Version)” which appears to show the song “Slut” originally featured The 1975.

4/19/24: Taylor releases her new album “The Tortured Poets Department” where many songs are believed to be about Taylor and Matty’s previous relationship.

#i know someone else made a timeline but #it was missing some stuff so i made my own #with more details #taylor swift #matty healy #tatty #mine #long post

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shanastoryteller · 4 months

Note

Happy Holidays Shana!! I really love your prompts about Greek mythology. Could you write a continuation of Hades or God's and Monsters?

a continuation of 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16

Zagreus is mid word when he stills, eyes going distant. "Huh. I'll be right back."

"You're joking," Megaera says flatly. "You can't just drop this on me and-"

"Technically, Than did that." He would really prefer if Zagreus didn't pull him into this. "I'll be quick. She's calling me, it can't be anything good."

"Who's she?" Megaera demands but Zagreus is already gone. She scowls and turns to the others. "Who's she?"

"Eliana, maybe," Sisyphus offers, completely unruffled at Megaera's ire. "At least take a look out the balcony. This is the highest point in the court and the view is really spectacular."

It is. Thanatos hadn't known the underworld could be beautiful before he'd seen what Zagreus had built.

Her eyes narrow. "How long has this been going on?"

"Oh, I can't say for sure," Sisyphus shrugs, his lips almost curling into a smile. "I wasn't really there for the beginning."

"I was."

They both turn to Patroclus. Eurydice is the only one of them that's suitably wary of either him or Megaera.

"He grew poms in my clearing first," he continues. "It's where we grew things until it became too full and then he created this. Zagreus has woven protections around it, to keep others from stumbling upon it accidentally, but I'm sure you could find it if you looked."

Megaera crosses her arms. "I'm not leaving."

Patroclus shrugs. Eurydice looks longingly towards the door and Sisyphus seems to actually be enjoying himself.

Thanatos stiffens, pain with no physical cause blooming from his chest. "He's died."

"Really?" Eurydice asks, taking a step closer. "He doesn't really do that anymore."

"Except for show," Sisyphus adds, frowning. "But you're both here."

Before Thanatos can decide how he feels about that, Zagreus is slipping back through the mirror, flicking off blood from his arms. "Sorry about that, Artemis wanted a favor."

Thanatos cannot have heard what he thinks he did.

"Artemis?" Megaera repeats dangerously.

"Oh, she told Aphrodite by the way," he adds casually, then pauses. "Actually, she was pretty surprised to see me, so I guess Artemis just called me and let her figure it out herself. Cold."

"Well, this is all unraveling," Patroclus says, but he doesn't seem that worried about it. Not nearly worried about it as Thanatos thinks he should be.

Zagreus shrugs. "They can keep a secret. Also it's been almost fifty years already, this can't go on forever. I suppose I could just challenge Demeter outright?"

"Do not do that," Eurydice says.

Thanatos wants to sit down.

"Have you LOST YOUR MIND?" Megaera screeches, grabbing Zagreus's shoulders. Her nails dig into him, but he doesn't bleed. "You can't do this! You can't - have you - this is crazy!"

Zagreus shrugs, pressing her nails deeper into him. "What's she going to do? Kill me?"

"There will be war," Thanatos says quietly while Megaera seems lost for words.

"Long overdue, if you as me," he says casually. "She's killing a lot of people, Than. She's undermining the other gods and making things worse for everyone all because she lost her daughter. She's turning against her own domain because her grief is more important than her duty. I can't make my mother talk to Demeter. But I have the power to stop her, to put an end to this winter. So I have to stop her."

"This isn't your responsibility, Zag," Thanatos says quietly.

"No," he agrees, expression souring. "It's my mother's. But if the goddess of spring won't do her duty and put an end to winter, then I will."

"Why?" Megaera asks, something small and scared in her that Thanatos hasn't seen since the first time she heard of Zagreus attempting to escape. "Why does it have to be you?

"I am a son of life's beginning and of life's ending." Zagreus says gently. "I know there is balance. I exist because of that balance. When I was born, I had too much of my father, and Nyx filled me with my mother's blood, because I can only exist when there is both." Thanatos hadn't known that, hadn't known how exactly his mother managed to save a stillborn Zagreus. "Who else, Meg?"

She doesn't have an answer.

There isn't one.

#prompt answers #prompts are closed #asks #geekyladypumpkin #hades game

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just-aake · 8 months

Text

Boundless Devotion - Part I

Pairing: princess!Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Summary: MedievalAU. Natasha is the eldest princess of the Romanov Kingdom. As the time of her coronation approaches, she is suddenly forced to make a decision – either find herself a partner or her parents will choose one for her.

Warnings: slight angst

Words: 1991

In the training yard of the castle, the sound of clashing steel fills the air as the Captain of the Royal Guard, Steve Rogers, faces off against the eldest princess and heir to the Romanov kingdom, Princess Natasha.

The sun shines on the area as the two circle each other, carefully watching the other’s movement.

Surrounding them, some of the castle’s staff and the other knights pause in their activities to watch the match with anticipation.

The captain lunges forward first, his polished sword gleaming in the sunlight. With a swift flourish, he aims a diagonal strike at her midsection.

In response, Natasha sidesteps the attack gracefully, her own blade moving smoothly to parry his sword.

The crowd watches with rapt attention as Steve continues to press forward with additional powerful swings, but the princess evades every strike, stepping as if she were dancing.

On a particularly powerful thrust, Natasha ducks under his attack, extending her arm to him. Then with a twist of her wrist, she expertly hooks her blade around his sword’s hilt and applies pressure. Using his momentum against him, she jerks the sword out of his grasp, sending it spinning through the air.

The blade lands with a clatter several feet away.

Then in a swift and uninterrupted motion, she hooks her leg around the back of his knee, sweeping it out from under him.

Her sword points at the captain’s chest in victory, ending the battle, as cheers and applause erupt around them.

With a quick twirl, Natasha holds her sword behind her before extending her hand to the captain. Steve gives her a grateful smile and takes her hand as she pulls him to his feet.

He dusts himself off before giving her an exasperated look.

“Did you really need to show me up in front of my knights?”

Natasha gives him a smirk, replying.

“Well, I have to keep you humble.”

Captain Steve Rogers was the one who trained her and her younger sister, Yelena, ever since they were little. Years later, they have both mastered their sword and martial arts skills, becoming one of the best in the kingdom.

Glancing around, Steve gives a stern look to the surrounding knights who rush to resume their training. When he turns back to Natasha, he nods in the distance.

“Looks like you have some guests, your Highness.”

Natasha brushes her hair out of her face, turning to look at the directed area.

At the edge of the training yard, she finds you standing alongside another noble, Lady Kate Bishop.

Kate waves excitedly at her in greeting, and the golden retriever next to her also jumps in place, matching his owner’s energy.

Visits to the castle from the two of you were not surprising. With both of your noble families having prominent positions in the kingdom, it was natural that the four of you, including Yelena, would end up forming close bonds, having known each other since you were children.

Kate is Yelena’s closest friend while you are hers.

Well, you two used to be close.

However, ever since the incident last year on the night of her birthday, you’ve kept your distance from her, only seeing or talking to her when necessary.

Even now, Natasha can see that the only thing holding you in place is Kate’s interlocked arm in yours.

Your body is turned towards the castle, and your eyes are looking everywhere else but her.

Natasha sheaths her sword at her side and walks over to the two of you. She is knocked back slightly when the golden retriever leaps at her in greeting, his tail wagging enthusiastically.

Natasha chuckles and pets his head, “Well, hello to you too, Lucky.”

Kate’s excited energy follows, moving closer, which in turn pulls you forward also.

“That was amazing! You have to teach me that move!”

Natasha releases the dog with a final scratch before letting him return to his owner’s side.

“I’m sure Yelena can show it to you the next time you two practice,” she tells her.

Kate nods to herself, reminding herself to ask the younger princess about it later.

Natasha turns to you, giving you a hopeful smile.

“How have you been, Y/n?”

You give her a slight bow in acknowledgment, your eyes still averted from hers.

“I’m fine. Thank you for asking, princess.”

Natasha's smile drops slightly at your neutral response.

So far, her interactions with you have been like this, formal and distant, unlike the usual banter and casual teasing that typically characterizes your friendship.

Before she can ask anything further, Natasha notices a slight movement in your arm as you discreetly tug Kate, trying to get her attention.

Kate turns to look at you in question and sees your pointed stare as you tilt your head subtly towards the castle.

Her mouth opens in realization, and she turns to Natasha apologetically.

“Oh, that’s right! I’m sorry, Natasha, but we have to get going. Y/n has a meeting with the queen.”

You are practically dragging her away as she finishes talking, offering Natasha a tight smile and a small farewell bow.

Natasha’s shoulders slump in despair as she watches you rush away.

It was disheartening to see her closest friend become almost like a stranger, but she can only blame that incident which caused this rift between the two of you.

Sighing sadly, she pulls out her sword again and heads back toward the center of the area to resume her training.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

Natasha is practically sprinting to the dining hall with how fast she is walking through the hallways.

Guards and maids dodge out of her path as she rushes by, already understanding the need to hurry, judging by the time.

As she approaches the entrance of the dining room, the guards open the doors for her to enter. Stepping into the room, she is immediately greeted by the queen’s reprimanding voice.

“You’re late, Natasha.”

Her mother, Queen Melina, sits at the head of the table while her father, King Alexei, occupies the opposite side. Yelena is positioned on the table's side facing her, subtly shaking her head in warning as her eyes gesture meaningfully toward their mother.

Natasha thinks back to how she spent the remainder of the day after her encounter with you, destroying the training dummies around the training yard in frustration.

By the time she realized how long she’d been training, the sun had already set.

Deciding there was no point in making up an excuse, she settled with the truth.

“I lost track of the time,” she replies.

In response, Queen Melina nods at the chair closest to her, indicating for her to have a seat.

When Natasha sits down, a member of the kitchen staff places a plate of dinner in front of her before stepping away.

In an attempt to break the tension, King Alexei claps his hands together and exclaims joyfully.

“Great, the family’s all here! Let’s eat!”

The members of the royal family start eating their meals, except for Queen Melina, who instead turns her attention to Natasha.

“I heard that you were at the courtyard today, training with the royal guards.”

“I was,” Natasha responds casually.

“What about your studies?”

“I already finished them all.”

“If you had told me earlier, I could have given you the next part of your lessons,” Melina admonishes before continuing her lecture. “You are about to be crowned soon as the next ruler of the kingdom. There’s always more that you can learn.”

A small snicker from Yelena catches Melina’s attention, causing her to direct her lecturing tone to the younger princess.

“And you should not laugh at your sister. At least she finished her studies. I heard that you didn't even show up for your lessons. Where exactly were you all day?”

Yelena shrugs nonchalantly before looking down next to her chair at the Akita dog eating from her bowl.

“Fanny wanted to go out for a run, so we spent the day out in the fields.”

At the sound of her name, the dog looks up attentively.

In response, Yelena gives her a gentle scratch on the head, before turning the dog's face toward her mother.

“You can’t say no to this face,” Yelena coos.

Melina gives the two of them a deadpan look before shifting her gaze forward to her husband.

Alexei chokes on his food in slight panic when he realizes her attention has now turned to him.

“Our daughters have inherited your adventurous spirit,” Melina remarks accusingly.

“That’s my girls!” Alexei exclaims proudly before he catches the sharp glare from Melina. “I-I mean, girls, your studies and lessons come first. You know how important they are to your mother.”

Melina sighs defeatedly, shaking her head at his poor attempt at scolding. She returns her attention back to her eldest daughter.

“I have scheduled several meetings for you this week, Natasha. They’re with the daughters from some of the noble houses, so be sure not to miss any.”

Furrowing her eyebrows in confusion, Natasha brings her cup up for a drink as she asks for more information.

“What are the meetings for?”

“To find you a partner, of course.”

Natasha spits out her drink in surprise, coughing as she reaches for a napkin.

“Mind your manners, Natasha,” Melina chastises.

Ignoring her mother's reprimand, Natasha exclaims in outrage.

“Why am I looking for a partner?!”

Unfazed by her tone, Melina answers her question with a serious expression, “Taking on the responsibilities of the kingdom is a lot for one person. You should have someone at your side.”

Natasha makes a sound of disagreement and gestures at her in accusation.

“A couple of months ago, you told me that I was fully prepared to take over the throne,” she reminds her mother. “You’ve never mentioned that I needed to have someone back then!”

“Well, that was before I realized that you have obviously made no attempt at looking for a potential partner. So I took the liberty to invite these lovely candidates to help you get started, and you will meet with them.”

Natasha huffs and crosses her arms, shaking her head in disbelief.

Seeing her reluctance, Melina continues, declaring, “If you cannot find someone by the time of your coronation, your father and I will choose one for you.”

Natasha’s eyes widen, and her mouth hangs open in shock at her words.

This was not fair.

Throughout her life, her parents have never shown interest in her romantic relationships before. Suddenly, they decide that she is not capable of taking over the kingdom unless she has someone by her side.

As Natasha tries to come up with a way so that she can get herself out of this situation, an idea comes to her mind.

“What if I’m already in a relationship with someone?” Natasha asks.

Three sets of eyes stare at her with varying looks of disbelief on their faces.

Yelena speaks up first, giving her a skeptical look.

“Nat, you’re popular throughout the kingdom, but the truth is, you spend more time with your sword than you do holding a lady's hand.”

Natasha subtly kicks her sister under the table in response to her comment, causing her to curse in pain.

“Watch your language, Yelena,” Melina reprimands her before resting her clasped hands on the table and focusing on Natasha. “But she’s not wrong. I have not seen you romantically close with anyone,” she points out accusingly.

Without hesitation, Natasha smoothly lies, “We’ve been meeting in secret.”

Melina examines her critically, and she matches her mother's intense stare.

When Natasha’s gaze doesn’t waver, Melina relaxes her posture and relents.

“Alright then, if you could tell me who you are in a relationship with, I will cancel all of the meetings.”

The name rolls off naturally on her tongue before Natasha can even stop herself.

“Lady Y/n Dreykov. I’m in a relationship with Y/n.”

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

Series Masterlist : Boundless Devotion

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff x you #black widow x reader #natasha romanoff fanfic #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff

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penandpaperdreams · 7 months

Text

Are your characters too “perfect”? Struggling to give them negative traits?

I’ve definitely fallen into the trap of making my protagonists and side characters too “perfect” before. It’s an easy mistake to make, but it can lead to your characters feeling one-dimensional if you’re too afraid to make them seem morally grey.

Here’s a very simple method:

1. Take a character’s main positive trait. Let’s take Hermione Granger, for example - her intelligence is a defining aspect of her character.

2. Exaggerate it into a negative trait. In the instance of Hermione Granger, she can come across to the other characters as a know-it-all. She’s not always portrayed as perfect for her intelligence, which is what makes her character more interesting.

Using this method, we have a number of options for negative traits for an intelligent character - patronising, arrogant, smug - to name a few.

I use the Fatal Attraction theory for this, which suggests that we fall out of love with someone for the same reason we were initially attracted to them. So, if you grew to like someone because you liked how strong and dominant they are, you may become tired of that down the line when their behaviour is controlling.

I’ve illustrated a few examples for how to exaggerate common positive traits into negative ones in the image above, but I have a few more examples to share so you really get the idea:

1. Comic relief / funny - can’t be serious, humour as a coping mechanism

2. Dark and mysterious - emotionally distant

3. Creative - aloof

4. Loyal - neglects own needs, willing to hurt for those they love

5. Compassionate / empathetic - overstepping boundaries

6. Honesty - overly blunt

7. Responsible - too serious

8. Humility - lack of self-belief

9. Trusting - easy to manipulate, overshares personal information

10. Perceptive - rude

11. Flirtatious - inappropriate

12. Organised - controlling, “neat freak”

13. Easygoing - lack of care about serious matters

14. Flamboyant - can be too much for some

15. Spontaneous - puts self in danger

Of course, you don’t have to do this. You can just have a character be spiritual and creative without making them out-of-touch and aloof. It’s completely up to you!

Using a method such as this, even if you only apply it subtly, adds a touch of realism to your writing by making your characters feel more well-rounded. It means that their negative aspects are truly coming from a part of them, rather than selected at random and mashed together from a list online.

#writing #writing tips #writing advice #character design #character building #character traits #characterisation #characterization #characters #personality #character personality #writingblr #novel #novel writing

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explosionkatsu · 1 year

Text

“Age doesn’t matter.” 1

Dad!Bakugou x FBabysitter!Sensei!Reader

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16

The day that Katsuki married her, most of his friends kept advising him it was not a good idea, she was a walking red flag, and she only loves him for his wealth since being the second-ranked hero he is and holding his own agency, money isn't a problem to him.

Until he got her pregnant. After giving birth to his son, recuperating, and finally moving on her own again, she left him without any notice, not any letter. He just got home and frantically made his way to his wailing child in his crib. Katsuki immediately picked him up and made his way to the kitchen preparing his child a bottle for his formulated milk. As soon as he felt the milk was lukewarm, he tap the nipple of the bottle on his child’s lips and saw how his son starts sucking it.

That made Katsuki leave work for a month until he was able to ask for help. With the help of Mitsuki and Masaru, they took care of their grandchild in daylight, and when Katsuki got off from work, he would pick up his child and take care of him by the night. Even though his mom insisted to take care of her grandchild full-time, Katsuki declined and said that he wanted to take care of his own blood as much as he can.

Years passed and his now 7 years old son adores him very much. He saw how his father beat up the villain and save people. It makes him want to be a hero like him. Every time Katsuki would come and pick him up from his grandparents, he would reenact the moves Katsuki did making Katsuki smirk.

“Alright brat. Stop with that and pick up your stuff. Let's head in.” Katsuki said parking his car in his garage as he opens the door for his son to get off.

“You look so cool! And you went kick! And then bam!” the kid said as he went and pick up his things from the back seat.

“I know I am. Now let's go inside.” Katsuki said locking the car door and going inside their home.

Once they both settled, Katsuki changed from his work clothing to his normal clothing and starts preparing their dinner. “Oi. Don't forget to work on your assignment!” he yelled, receiving awe in response that made him chuckle.

Katsuki watched his son drag down his school bag making his way to the living room where the center table is.

“I heard from your teacher you’re doing well,” Katsuki said as he chopped the ingredients.

“I need to be good so that I can be strong like you!” his son said making Katsuki smirk.

“You think I’m strong?” Katsuki looked at his son who was working on his homework by himself.

“Mhm!!”

Katsuki took his time watching his son count his fingers before saying aha as if finding out the answer. When Katsuki continued his chopping, little did he know his son suddenly went quiet and stopped writing. He stared blankly at his unfinished homework before speaking up.

“Dad,” he called out softly.

“What?” Katsuki replied thinking that he might need his assistance with his homework.

“Why don't I have a mom?”

His question made him halt his chopping. He knows the answer to his question and yet he was hesitating to say it. He's too young to know that his mom suddenly left them when he was still a baby.

“I saw my classmates being picked up my their mom.” His son added.

“I could pick you up after school.” Katsuki glancing at him.

“I hate being left alone at school when Grandma can't pick me up.. Sometimes, Ms. Y/n would take me out with her and eat in a cafe.”

This he didn't know. “What?”

“Sometimes grandma and grandpa can't pick me up because they have a lot of clothes to make so I'm always left alone at school with Ms. Y/n”

Why doesn’t his mom tell him this?

“How long do you usually wait for them to pick you up?” Katsuki was pissed.

“It gets dark outside. Ms. Y/n would take me to her home and would cook for me! She's a great cook, dad!”

Katsuki will make sure he’ll discuss this with his parents.

“Sometimes, Ms. Y/n is like a momma to me! She take care of me. She wipes the dirt off my knees whenever I tripped. She has a small apartment though. But it's very clean!” Katsuki stared at his son as he rambles about his teacher. “And, and, Ms. Y/n has a healing quirk! It's very cool whenever I watch her heal someone, her hands are glowing! Although if it heals, she’ll get a wound out of nowhere..”

Katsuki is now interested. He has this eagerness to meet this teacher his son is talking about. He's been too busy being a hero to the point he relies on his parents to drop his son at school. But after what he heard, this is the first time he’ll drop his son to school.

#bakugou katsuki #bnha bakugo katsuki #katsuki bakugo mha #mha bakugou #bakugou katuski x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugou x y/n

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lovebeinaprincessworld · 1 year

Text

Way of the life (Tsu’tey x reader)

Masterlist

Part 1 Part 2

Description: Your life with Tsu’tey was everything you could have wished for - but there were still conflicts and fights. It couldn’t always be perfect, but as long as your family would stick together in the end, you would be fine.

For context this is how old the children are in this part:

Tsey’tan - 19 (same as Neteyam)

Tetsun - 17 (same as Lo’ak and Kiri)

Zìtei and Zuaìu - 15

Tiranay - 9 (same as Tuk)

Warnings: smut, p in v, fingering, oral, talk about cum, lots of cum, breeding kink

6962 words

Tsu’tey was always hard on his sons, he wanted them to become great warriors and protectors of their clan. You knew he loved them, he loved them so much, and you knew he just wasn’t a gentle and soft man. Only on rare occasions (or just for you). But sometimes you thought he forgot he was also their father, and not only their superior, he wasnt solely responsible for shaping them into warriors - being a father was more than that.

You always helped him find the balance, the way you did things together as parents worked out for your family. But this time, it escalated. Your second oldest had wandered into the forest, you knew why - he had a crush on a Na’vi girl and he told you the day before he wanted to find the crystals she loved to use for her necklaces. What he didn’t notice was that his little sister followed him. And when he noticed he was already too far to turn back, so he just took her with him.

It wasn’t his fault, he couldn’t have known that the one second she wandered into the trees while he was bending down, a stray viperwolf would jump her. He immediately heard her scream and killed the creature, but she was bleeding profusely from her right arm and she was crying - of course she was, she was still so young, she must’ve been so scared. Your poor little girl, even now that she was back in the safety of her family’s home, her arm bandaged and her tears dried, she clung to you, refusing to be set down.

You were just glad they were both safe, it was an accident and you would never be angry at Tetsun for that. Your mate however saw that entirely different, he had been scolding your son for the past minutes, he was furious. Your son was standing there, shoulders hunched and ears turned down, trying to be strong while his slightly taller father yelled at him. Eywa, he was still child too. His brothers were standing nearby, looking as if they were getting scolded too, they understood how it was to be the one who was the target, they had caused enough trouble to have been at the receiving end of their fathers anger too.

„I can’t believe you are this irresponsible! Taking your little sister into the forest like that, and then not even properly watching over her and protecting her! She could have been dead! Do you hear me? Look at her arm, this is your fault!“, your mate was raging, and you tried to intervene, he was overstepping. You knew he was strict, you accepted it, but he was blowing this out of proportion. „I think he understands, can we please just-”, but he didn’t even seem to hear you. Your daughter was starting to cry again, you knew she didn’t want he big brother to get in trouble - she would also never blame him.

„I want you to go and think about what you have done, you’ve brought shame to this family and-”, that was enough, you loved Tsu’tey, but he was wrong to say that to your son. You could see Tetsuns eyes glossing over. „THAT‘S ENOUGH TSU‘TEY!“, you had to raise your voice quite a bit to be heard, and the effect was immediately, it was so silent you could’ve heard a pin drop. You were scowling at your mate, for the first time really angry with him for making your son feel like this.

Tsu’tey was shocked to say the least. You were so gentle and soft, you had never raised your voice like this before, especially not at him. His sons were all frozen, and he turned around to you, the angry look on your face making him shrink a little. He hated that you were angry at him, all his anger and frustration about his injured daughter immediately vanishing, leaving a bitter feeling behind.

„I’m sorry sempul“, you heard Tetsuns voice from behind your mate (who you were still glaring at), he was trying to be strong, but his voice cracked a little, making your heart break for him. Even if Tsu’tey didn’t mean it, what was said, was said and he couldn’t take it back. Your mate didn’t react, still looking at you, and your second oldest took off through the entrance to his left, snapping you out of your stupor. You had to practice damage control right now, you would deal with everything else later. (Father)

„Tsey’tan“, you called upon your oldest and he immediately stepped next to you, looking down at you expectantly. „Take your sister“, you gently told him, transferring the still slightly shaking girl into her brothers arms. When she was clinging to him instead of you, you took off after your second oldest without another look back, eventhough you could feel your mate was distraught too - maybe this would teach him something.

Your son was fast, of course he was he’s one of the best warriors of the clan, just like his brothers. But you knew exactly where he would go. You and Tsu’tey had once built something equivalent to a tree house a little further into the forest when the children were still younger. You knew they still came here sometimes, especially when they wanted to be alone.

And you were right, when you had climbed the tree to the hammock-like hut, Tetsun was sitting at the edge, his legs swinging back and forth slightly. You were sure he heard you coming, but he didn’t react until you sat next to him. Then he wiped his cheeks with the back of his hand, he was crying and your heart ached even more at the pain your son was in.

„I’m sorry sa‘nok“, he whispered and you just shook your head, pulling the slight taller boy into your arms. „My love you don’t have to be sorry, this is nobody’s fault, it was an accident“, your son was sinking into your arms, placing his head on your lap and you could feel a few tears hit your legs, „no matter what your father says.“ You were stroking his braids, no matter how old your children got, they would always be exactly that - your children.

„I should have turned around when I noticed Tiranay, I should have protected her better, Dad is right I have brought shame to our family“, you could hear his voice choke up, and you sighed at the damage his fathers words had left. „Look at me ma‘itan“, you softly but firmly turned his head so he would look at you, „you are anything but. You are a strong warrior, a great older brother and you make me so proud as a mother to have a son like you. This wasn’t your fault. You are not a shame.“ You emphasized the last sentences, his tears starting to subside.

He sat up again, wiping his tears away. „I’m sorry for being such a baby“, he was clearly upset about being so vulnerable. „You should never be sorry for showing emotions, you don’t always have to be the strong fighter. Even your father isn’t all the time“, you smiled and he looked incredulously. „He has his reasons for being the way he is“, you started to explain, you felt he deserved an explanation even if Tsu’tey didn’t really bother (or particularly liked) to talk about his past. Your son looked at you with avid interest, his father had told him lots of battle and war stories but nothing beyond that.

„You know your father was once raised to become the next Olo’eyktan. When my brother and me weren’t even on this planet yet, he was already promised to mate with Neytiris sister - Sylwanin. They were great friends, they were the same age and grew up together in expectancy to mate one day. Your father told me, it was a different kind of love than he felt for me, friendship was their foremost emotion. But he lost her, sky people came and she was killed. And then he was promised to mate with Neytiri, a worthy next Tsahìk. They were also friends, but he was slightly older and they weren’t as close as he was with her sister. And she fell in love with my brother. This didn’t particularly hurt his feelings, I’m sure his pride was slightly wounded, but we were already starting to fall in love by then. And then the Great War came, hometree was destroyed, everything they’ve ever known was gone and he lost many, many of his fellow warriors and friends.“, you tried to convey what his father went through on his life.

„He has lost so much in his life“, your eyes met your sons and he looked saddened by what he learned about his father, „and he is absolutely terrified of losing you or your siblings. That is no excuse for what he said tonight, but you know how he is, he isn’t the best to show you he loves you and that he was worried, so he scolds you.“ Your son sighs, breaking the eye contact and you pushed one of his braids back behind his ear.

„You are so loved okay? Please never forget that“, you smiled when he laid his head onto your shoulder, reminding you of how he would search for comfort in your arms when he was little. You sat there for a few moments, when you felt the woven floor underneath you move slightly. Your son went rigid, and you turned around to see your mate standing at the other side of the hammock. He looked incredibly guilty, and you were glad he came to talk to your son. You could talk all you want, ultimately he needed to hear this from his father.

You encouragingly squeezed Tetsuns hand, carefully getting up to leave them be. You stopped infront of your mate, his eyes hurt and ashamed. „I’m sorry yawne“, he whispered, and you had honestly never seen him so broken. „Just make this right“, you sighed, still a little mad, but already forgiving him in you heart. You squeezed his hand before leaving them to sort this out.

————————

Your oldest son was still out with his friends, his siblings already sleeping and Tetsun and Tsu’tey hadn’t come back yet. You had taken one of the books you recently borrowed from Norm and used the time for yourself to read in the hammock above your hut. You were tucked away in the right corner of the woven platform, when you heard two people climb up towards your home. You really hoped everything was alright again.

Tsu’tey regretted saying what he said as soon as it left his mouth, and he was glad he could make it right with his son. He knew it was an accident, he was just so incredibly scared for his two children that he exploded and let it out in the wrong way. And you being angry and disappointed in him made his heart sink even further, he couldn’t get the picture of your scolding face out of his head - Tiranay crying in your arms because of the conflict only deepening the frown he was wearing. He knew he had to make this right with you too.

„Good night son“, you could barely hear it from your position up in the trees, a soft smile lighting up your face, glad that your family seemed to have worked through this. You couldn’t hear Tetsuns response, but what you could hear was your mate making his way upwards, towards you. You out your book to the side, sitting up a little when he jumped on the floor and knelt infront of you. He still looked really guilty, his usual scowl on his face.

„Ma tìyawn“, his rough voice laced with so many emotions immediately softened your heart. He already made things right with your son, how could you keep being angry with him, it wasn’t in your nature. You let out little sigh, shuffling to the side and lifting up the thin blanket you were sitting under, so that he could join you. „Come here“, you smiled at him and you could see the tension ease when he realized you weren’t angry.

He sat down next to you, pulling you into his arms and covering you both with the blanket, his cheek on your head and your hands on his chest. „I’m so sorry“, he whispered, „I should have never said that.“ You hummed, comfortable in his strong arms. „Did you make things right with Tetsun?“, you quietly questioned, the fingers that were drawing circles on your back distracting you. „I did, he forgave me, but can you forgive me too?“, he still seemed a little anxious, and you pressed a soft kiss to his collarbone.

„Of course I do, I could never stay mad at you. And I’m sorry for raising my voice at you“, you pulled back a bit so you could look into his face, his scowl was gone and he looked tired. It had been a long and eventful day after all. „Don’t be. You were right to do so, even if I hate it when we fight“, he closed his eyes with a deep sigh, his tail wandering towards yours under the blanket, the appendages wrapping themselves around oneanother.

Now that he was forgiven, by his son and his mate, he was unbelievably comfortable laying there. His mate tugged into him in a tight embrace, safe by his side, and his children sleeping below, he was glad this day turned out so positive in the end. He opened his eyes again, your big, soft ones already watching him. Instead of talking more, he leaned down and captured your lips in a gentle kiss.

————————

You were so, so screwed. You promised your mate not to wander into the forest on your own, but you really needed some torìtu leaves. You ran out of them a few days ago, and you almost always use them on scrape wounds your children have. You thought about asking Tsu’tey to accompany you into the forest, but he was so stressed lately - Zìtei and Zuaìu almost ready to complete their iknimaya - and the plants were found in a generally safe environment.

The location wasn’t dangerous at all - you were right about that - but your clumsiness wasn’t bound to one place. So when a few Syakayuks swung by you were startled and stupidly twisted your ankle, so that you were sitting in the soft moss now, not being able to stand back up. How were you supposed to get back? No one knew you were there, and even if it wasn’t that far from the village you couldn’t crawl all the way could you now. (The ‚monkeys‘ we see in the first movie)

So you sat there in your misery, your ankle slightly swollen and in pain, and waited until your family would notice you weren’t coming back to your home and come searching for you. Damn, you felt pathetic. You had just set sight on a large dead branch on the other side of the clearing you could maybe use as a crutch, when someone broke through the treeline. „Neteyam!“, you called out for your nephew and he whipped around in your direction.

„(Y/N)? What are you doing here?“, he came over to you in confusion and you were so relieved he came by here. „I was collecting torìtu leaves and twisted my ankle“, you sighed and pointed to your swollen foot, „would you mind helping me back to the village?“ „Yes, of course!“, your ever so dutiful nephew hauled you up in his arms before you could protest and you squeaked slightly. „Sorry, sorry“, he grinned and started to walk, you were clutching onto your bag in fear of losing it. You realized he really wasn’t a child anymore, just like your own oldest son, they would probably soon pick mates of their own and start their own families. You swore it was just yesterday that you were cuddling Tsey’tan and Neteyam, while your mate was training and Jake and Neytiri were out.

You talked about his day, he was on his way to meet his brother by the waterfall when he stumbled upon you, and soon you reached the village. „Dad!“, Neteyam called for his father - and your brother - who was standing nearby talking to one of the elders. When he saw you two, he excused himself and made his way to you with a concerned look. Great, as if your own mate wouldn’t go overprotective over this, your brother had to witness it too.

„What happened?“, he scanned your form, and you rolled your eyes. „It’s not that bad, just twisted my ankle“, you calmed him down, but he was still frowning. Only your nephew seemed to find amusement in not being the one on the receiving end of his dads worry. „Give her to me, I’ll bring her to Mo‘at“, Jake took you out of Neteyams arms, „and then go tell Tsu’tey to meet me in the tsahìks tent, you can go to your brother after that.“ „What? No, we don’t need to tell-”, but Neteyam was already gone before you could convince anyone not to tell your mate.

„Do you really think I’m inciting Tsu’teys wrath when he finds out we didn’t tell him? He would find out anyways“, your brother chuckled and you hit his chest, making him give you a (fake) offended look. You two entered Mo‘ats tent, she seemed busy with grinding a paste but looked up right as you came in. „Put her down there“, she instructed the Olo’eyktan and he placed you onto the cot she pointed to.

Tsu’tey had been wondering where you were, you were always waiting for your children (and for him) at home. Tiranay was out with her two oldest brothers and the twins had come back with him. But you weren’t there. „Where is Mom?“, Zuaìu was just as confused as his father. „I’ll look in the hammock“, Zìtei was climbing upwards and downwards in record time, but he just shook his head when he came back down, „she’s not up there either.“

Before they could think about looking for you, Neteyam barged into the hut and Tsu’tey got a really bad feeling in his gut. „What is it Neteyam?“, Zuaìu asked his cousin with furrowed brows. „Dad sent me to tell you that your mother twisted her ankle“, his breath was slightly faster than normal, and when Tsu’tey heard you were hurt, he stepped towards his nephew, towering over the future clan leader.

„Where is she?“, he didn’t mean to, but he looked terrifying to Neteyam, not being able to control his facial expressions. „With Mo‘at“, and with that Tsu’tey was off, the twins on his heels. „Thanks Neteyam!“, Zìtei called over his shoulder, not wanting to lose track of his father.

Mo‘at had just finished bandaging up your ankle (a paste to bring down the swelling already on it) when Tsu’tey and the twins came in. Your brother discreetly slipped out of the tent at the angered look on your mates face, you rolled your eyes at that. The coward. „It’s just a sprained ankle, no need for panic please“, Mo‘at rolled her eyes at your mates obvious protective behaviour, not looking up from your foot though. You smiled at your twins an beckoned them over when the tsahìk got up. „Are you alright sa‘nok?“, Zìtei asked, both of them kneeling next to the cot you were sitting on. You tried to delay meeting your mates gaze, you didn’t want your sons witnessing his anger. You could feel he was still holding it in.

„I’m alright don’t worry.“, you stroked their hair softly, „can you fetch your brothers and sister and go to dinner? We will be with you in a little while.“ They nodded, each pressing a kiss to your cheek before leaving the tent. „I will go to dinner too“, Mo‘at excused herself and the moment she was gone, Tsu’tey was next to you on the cot and you finally met his furious eyes.

„How did this happen?“, he still didn’t know you went into the forest against his wishes, but you saw no point in lying. „I needed more torítu leaves“, you started and he immediately growled. „You went into the forest?“, he barked, his fists clenching so hard his knuckles were turning light blue. „I’m sorry, I know I should have told you, but I’m alright am I not? Neteyam found me after a while“, you squeezed his biceps softly, but his eyes were still as hard as ever.

„So you just sat there in the forest near eclipse, not being able to get up, defenseless. What would’ve happened if so much as viperwolf stumbled over you?“, he got up from next to you, towering over your small form and you shrank back. „You promised me you wouldn’t go into the forest alone!“, he was basically shouting now, only keeping his voice down because of how thin the walls were.

You knew he would be angry, but your mate being so furious brought tears to your eyes. You tried to blink them away, not wanting to make even more of a scene as this already was, but he saw them, and the tension in his body fell away. „I don’t- Please yawne I-”, he couldn’t find the words, but he knew he needed to comfort you first anyway, sinking down again and carefully pulling you into his arms. You took a shaky breath, your tears not spilling after all, and clung onto his big hands for comfort.

„I’m sorry I went into the forest, I just didn’t want to bother you“, you were so quiet, and he felt so guilty for exploding on you like that. He was getting really good at controlling his protective side most of the time, but now and then the fear of losing you overwhelmed him. „I’m sorry I yelled, I just can’t help but think about the horrible things that could have happened to you, and that I wouldn’t have been able to save you“, his forehead was pressed against your temple, his lips ghosting over your cheekbone.

„I won’t do it again“, you sighed, turning your head and gently kissing him. He hummed and pulled you back in when you tried to shuffle back slightly, a smile spreading over your face. „Does it hurt?“, he asked after he finally let go of your lips, his hands stroking your waist. „Only when I try to stand on it, Mo’at said I should be fine in two weeks“, you layed your head on his shoulder, his closeness soothing you after the fight you just had.

„I won’t leave your side for the next two weeks then“, he pushed your hair behind your ear, and you giggled. „We’ll see about that“, you interlaced your fingers with his, „let’s go to dinner for now, our children are waiting.“ He grunted and you took that as agreement.

—————————

Today had been one of the rare days you had the time to visit Norm in the scientist camp. You saw him in the village at least once a week, but your visits to the human encampment were rare. Having five children does that to you. He was so excited to show you his newest discovery, a flower that was growing in the caves in the hallelujah mountains. He didn’t know that much about it yet, but he told you the bioluminescent essence seemed to be something like a natural super glue. Additionally you used the opportunity to exchange some of your borrowed books for a few new ones, you had already filled your bag with your favorite copies.

„I can’t believe the twins passed their iknimaya already, I feel like it was yesterday that I was teasing you about your crush on Tsu’tey“, Norm laughed, you two had strayed from the scientific topics to your lives. „Shut up!“, you laughed with him, kneeling on the floor next to the human because of your size, „but you’re right, it’s crazy to think we went from going to university together, to living on a foreign planet isn’t it?“ „Especially you, snatching up the toughest warrior and a having a family“, he jokingly punched your arm and you acted wounded.

Suddenly you heard commotion coming from the main part of the complex, you and Norm exchanging worried looks. „Where is she?“, as soon as you heard the voice, you rolled your eyes. Norm on the other hand was getting nervous, no matter how many times he met your mate, Tsu’tey always intimidated the human - even in his Na‘vi form. „I’m here!“, you called out, not wanting him to make scene. You wondered why he was here, but when you looked outside, you noticed it was dark already. Uh oh. „We forgot the time, didn’t we?“, Norm seemed to have read your thoughts, and you were already bracing yourself for an annoyed Tsu’tey.

He crouched into the room through the doorframe, and as anticipated he was scowling. „I‘m sorry, I totally forgot the time ma Tsu’tey“, you smiled soothingly, but he scoffed, eyeing the human next to you in disdain. You didn’t know why he seemed to dislike Norm, but he generally didn’t like any males that were near you so maybe that was it. „See you next week at the feast, right?“, you squeezed your friends shoulder as a goodbye, knowing Tsu’tey wouldn’t be happy if you hugged him right now.

Norm was nodding frantically, the longer your mate stared at him with those fear inducing eyes, the more nervous he became. You got up, waving and stepping next to your mate. Tsu’tey wrapped his tail around your thigh and his arm around your waist, making sure everyone knew you were his. You left it uncommented and led him out of the science complex, all the other humans had already moved to different rooms, they were all pretty terrified of your mate. When you were back in the forest, the bioluminescence providing some light and the science camp out of sight, you stopped.

He was too quiet, something was bothering him. „What is it my love?“, your hand were gripping his biceps gently, both of his arms encircling your waist now. „I don’t like you being away from me for so long“, he growled, scowl on his face and grip on you tightening, „especially not when you spent the time with that tawtute instead.“ You couldn’t suppress your smile. „Are you really jealous of Norm?“, your thumbs were stroking his skin, his muscles flexing underneath, tail on your thigh moving slightly.

„He makes you laugh, and you have so much to talk about“, you were surprised he was honestly bothered by this, he almost seemed a little insecure. „Tsu’tey look at me“, your hands softly gripped his jaw and his eyes hesitantly met yours. „Norm is a good friend, but he will always be just that - a friend. It is you who I see, who I love, who I belong to“, you were looking up at him through your lashes, and his eyes widened slightly, before they became heated.

„I know you belong to me, I would never let you go don’t worry yawne. It still bothers me“, he scoffed, „Maybe I need to remind you a little that you do belong to me.“ He smirked and you blushed, your tweng growing moist immediately, it had been too long since he touched you. „Mhm seems like you would like that, maybe we can sneak away later tonight“, he grinned and gave you a promising kiss.

Turned out he wouldn’t get a chance to fulfill his promise that night. Your daughter was crying when she came home with Tsey’tan, she had a fight with Tuk and only was able to fall asleep in your arms. „Tomorrow?“, you apologetically smiled at your mate, and he just took you both into his arms. „Sure tìyawn“, he kissed your temple and you fell asleep like that.

It was the next afternoon, your sons were out with the hunting party (their father had stayed behind for obvious reasons) and your daughter was playing with Tuk, whom she had made up with. Tsu’tey was currently unlacing your top, his lips peppering kisses down your neck. „Eywa, it has been too long since I came inside your tight little pussy“, he groaned and his teeth left little marks all over your breasts, but when his hand slipped down into your loincloth, you were interrupted.

„Sa’nok, sempul! Come quick Zìtei has been injured!“, you winced in shock, quickly putting your breast cover back on and the tall warrior above you groaned in frustration. „Why did that skxawng needed to get hurt right now“, he rolled off of you with a grunt and you lightly slapped his shoulder, sitting up. „Don’t say that! Come on, we will find time eventually“, Tsu’tey scoffed unhappily, but followed you down the tree to where your eldest son had called from.

The last three days had been so busy, you and Tsu’tey had no chance at sneaking of together at all. Your mate was growing seriously frustrated, and you were getting needier too. You had never gone this long without having sex, and you really missed having him so close. But today it seemed like you had a free morning, your sons had taken your daughter to the waterfalls and you and Tsu’tey wanted to sneak of to the hammock he built for you a little away from the village, so this time nobody could interrupt you.

He had his strong arm around your waist and his tails around your thigh, pulling you with him hastily, his impatience making you laugh. „What, you think this is funny?“, he scowled at you, but the mischievous glance in his eyes told you he wasn’t really mad. „I just like seeing you so needy“, you giggled and softly kissed his shoulder. „Trust me, this ‚neediness‘ means you’re really in for it ma mate“, he growled in your ear, making them twitch, your tail swishing behind you in anticipation.

You almost made it into the treeline when your brothers voice interrupted you. „(Y/N)!“, Jake called out for you, a relieved look on his face when he saw you. Tsu’tey went rigid next to you, he couldn’t believe you were interrupted again! He had a hard-on for the last few days, every time he saw you he could only think about bending you over and taking what’s his, but you kept getting disturbed!

„What is it Jake?“, you smiled up at him when he came to a stop next to you two. Eventhough you were probably just as needy as your mate, you could never be rude to anyone because of it. „Mo’at is busy, and Tuk stepped into something slightly poisonous, Neytiri doesn’t know what to do, can you please take a look?“, he hesitated for a moment to ask you, your mate glaring at him with a frown on his face.

„Of course“, you nodded for him to lead the way, kissing Tsu’tey goodbye with a guilty look on your face. „I’m so sorry ma Tsu’tey“, you whispered so your brother couldn’t hear, and with a deep sigh the frown melted off his face. „It’s alright, go help Tuk, that’s more important“, he pushed you to follow the Olo’eyktan slightly, watching your ass sway when you turned around and left. He couldn’t take this much longer.

He would finally, finally get to be alone with you this night. He had instructed Tsey’tan to take charge for the evening, and swept you away to fuck you in your hammock in the forest. „No one will stop me tonight yawne, trust me“, he held you so tight and his voice was so possessive, your loincloth immediately started to get soaked with your slick. But again, right as you were about to break the treeline, a voice stopped you. „Hey (Y/N)!“, it was Norm, the poor scientist having no idea what kind of frustration was bubbling under the skin of the tall Na’vi next to you. Even in his Avatar, Norm was dwarfed by your mate.

„Hey Norm“, you greeted him, Tsu’tey next to you huffing impatiently. „I’m so glad I caught you! I need to show you this new plant I found! Me and max went to-”, your friend was interrupted by a rough grunt. Norm winced, seemingly only now noticing the angry male beside you - once he was engulfed in his research he didn’t notice what was going on around him much. „You can do that tomorrow, sky demon“, Tsu’tey had enough of the constant interruptions, he hoisted you up over his shoulders, a surprised gasp leaving you and your friend was left standing there dumbfounded.

„Tsu’tey that was rude!“, you scolded him, holding onto his back for dear life. You were a little embarrassed that Norm witnessed this, but a more primal part of you was getting all hot and bothered at your mates display of dominance and strength. „I don’t give a fuck, I told you no one will stop me tonight and I meant it“, his voice was rough, and when you reached the tree the hammock was located in, he finally set you down. You staggered slightly from being manhandled like that, and he stabilized you with his hands on your waist.

He urged you to climb the tree before him, and you scrambled up into your hammock at the top as fast as you could. As soon as you stood on the woven floor of the hammock, your mate was behind you, turning you around and picking you up again. Your legs wound around his hips, and his hard bulge was already rubbing against your covered core, a gasp leaving your mouth.

Tsu’tey could smell you all the way here, you scolded him for being rude, but he knew it turned you on. He laid you down gently on the plantfibre pillows in the corner and settled between your legs. He immediately captured your lips in a passionate kiss, he was craving your touch and your closeness. When you needed to breath he ripped of your top and started sucking on your nipples, his teeth scraping against your hard bud occasionally, and the grip you consequently established on his braids made him growl, his bulge rutting against the floor for some friction.

„Tsu’tey“, you mewled when he switched to the other side, your slick had already completely drenched your tweng and you just wanted him even closer. „Need you closer, please“, you whined, and you felt him take your queue, quickly making tsaheylu and the familiar shudder went through both of you. „Missed this so much“, you whispered, his lips trailing kisses down to where you needed him most distracting you.

„Me too, I will never go that long without mating with you again“, he purred, happy now that he was so close to burying his face where he wanted to for weeks. He ripped off your tweng too, the cool night air hitting your swollen and wet pussy making a shiver run through you, and he pulled your legs over his shoulder before his tongue buried itself in your slick entrance.

Even after all these years, the texture of his tongue seemed to make you go feral. He loved how unrestrained you got when he ate you out, and he loved your taste, your soft thighs caging in his head making him feel like he could stay there forever. Everytime his nose caught your clit, you clenched around his tongue that was still writhing inside of you, and he could feel you were getting closer through tsaheylu. He was surprised you were approaching your high so quickly, but then again it felt like forever since he made you cum the last time.

„Please m-ma mate I’m going to-”, your voice broke at the end, his thick fingers replacing his tongue, which was now circling your clit. „Cum for me tìyawn, cum for me so I can finally fuck this tight pussy“, he groaned and sucked on your nub, on particular curl of his fingers pushing you over the edge and your thighs almost suffocated the poor man between them, but he didn’t mind. „Oh Tsu’tey!“, you moaned, clenching around his fingers, your high burning through your body in record time.

When you called his name while cumming, he wondered how he ever went that long without this. His fingers fucked you through your orgasm, he couldn’t get enough of your sweet taste, but when you started to twitch from the sensitivity and pushed at his head slightly whimpering, he pulled his fingers out and kissed his way back up, until he was hovering above your panting form. „I see you ma (Y/N)“, he hummed, his forehead on yours and a blissful smile only your lips. „I see you“, you whispered, your legs wrapping around his hips and your hands taking of his loincloth, relishing in the familiar feeling of his thick blue cock slapping against your stomach when it was freed.

Some of his precum leaked onto your belly and you scooped it up with your finger, making eyecontact before sucking it off. The slight salty taste made you hum, and your mate above you lost all composure, moaning deeply and grabbing your thigh in his large hand, maneuvering his hips so his head slipped into you. „Fuck, I can’t wait to cum inside of you, need my scent to be all over you, need to breed you“, he grumbled, his eyes screwed shut while he slipped inside entirely.

No matter how often you mated, he always seemed to stretch you again. When he didn’t move you whimpered slightly, your tail curling around his arms, squeezing the bulging muscle and he groaned. „Please move yawne“, you moaned, and he pulled back before thrusting into you again, his head brushing your cervix slightly. You held onto his biceps once he found a faster rhythm, the hammock shaking slightly with his thrusts and his head buried in your neck nipping at your soft skin.

He grunted against your neck, a shiver running through you and when he angled your hips a little more downwards, he managed to thrust even deeper into you, his balls slapping against your ass with every powerful thrust. His balls were so heavy, he hadn’t cum inside of you for so long there was so much packed in them, he couldn’t wait to fill you with all of it, the thought alone making his movements more forceful.

Your tits rubbing against his pecs made the coil in your stomach tighten, you could feel yourself leaking all over his dick. „Mhm you’re going to cum on my cock ma muntxa? Going to fill you good with my cum, all just for you“, he moaned when you clenched around him, his veiny dick battering your insides and catching onto your spongey spot with every thrust. „Oh Eywa, I’m going to-”, you interrupted yourself with a scream, his hand rubbing your clit suddenly and you exploded around him.

You were basically chanting his name while you held onto him, convulsing and arching your back and he swore it was the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. All just because of him, all for him, he couldn’t hold back anymore. Your small hands on his biceps squeezed, you were so slick and hot around him and he rutted into you a few more times, thrusting up into you as much as possible. His head was nestled right against your cervix, his balls tightened and with a guttural growl he finally came.

You could feel his hot cum rush into your womb, you were still coming down from your high and the sheer amount that was filling you prolonged your orgasm significantly. You swore he had never cum this much inside of you, but then again you two had never gone so long without eachother. He panted in your neck and he was twitching inside of you, the flow of his seed ceasing. He was so deep inside of you, that nothing spilled out though, most of it locked securely inside your womb.

He was purring, finally satisfied and your soft walls fluttering around him made him hold you tighter. „Mhm“, you hummed, your hands softly massaging his scalp and he kissed your neck gently. „I‘m so glad you’re mine, and so thankful for the family you gave me“, he whispered, his lips brushing your collarbone and you were beaming. You loved how emotional he got after mating, tsaheylu making everything even more intense. „I couldn’t wish for a better, happier life, I love you and our children so much“, you breathed and he knew what the words ‚I love you‘ meant to humans, eventhough you rarely said them - opting instead for the Na‘vi version ‚I see you‘. He shifted slightly, a rare gentle smile on his face when he looked down at you.

„I love you too“, his lips found yours, the intimate position you were in warming your heart. „Tì‘i‘avay krrä“, he promised, sometimes he still couldn’t believe the way his life turned out so amazing. „Forever ma Tsu’tey“, you hummed and he turned you both around, so you could stay interlocked, but he wouldn’t crush you with his weight. He just wanted to hold you close, enjoying your time as a mated pair alone. (Forever/Until the end of time)

——————————

So this was definitely the last part of this story, they can live happily ever after now ahahah <3 I would really appreciate some feedback, my last Tsu’tey piece didn’t get any comments and I’m wondering what I should write differently - let me know what you think! If you wanna be tagged also let me know <3

Taglist: @eywas-heir @brooklynscherry-z @liyahsocorro

#x reader #fluff #angst #avatar #avatar james cameron #jake sully #neytiri #smut #avatar the way of water #lo’ak #neteyam #tuktirey #tsutey x reader #tsutey #tsu’tey x reader #tsu’tey #omaticaya #navi

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heavyhitterheaux · 4 months

Text

Ghost Part 1

AN: everyone ignore the fact that it took me almost a year to finish this lol

Synopsis: You're an OnlyFans model that gets pregnant by none other than Jack Harlow, who runs at the first sign of taking responsibility for his actions. But soon enough, his responsibilities get to be too much for him to ignore

Pairing: Jack Harlow x Reader

Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere

'I'm a good girl'

At least that’s what you told yourself

But good girls didn't go to school by day and were a cam girl at night.

However, you were

It was only for a little while

Just until you finished school

You needed a way to pay for it somehow

Besides the money was good and it kept a roof over your head

You admit that this wasn't your first choice in a career path obviously, but you had to do what you had to do in order to survive.

You had been in foster care since you were 9 because your parents and brother passed away in a car accident while you were the lone survivor

Your grandparents were older and they couldn't take care of you so that's when you went into the system

Your aunt which was your mother's sister and your mother didn't get along and she said that there was no way in hell that she would take you and that you were someone else’s problem

I mean she did have five kids of her own to take care of, but to be that cold hearted to a nine year old?

You admit that you had survivor's guilt and would do anything to have all three of them here with you. But you knew that they would have wanted for you to have the best life that you could possibly have and that you were going to make sure of it.

But if they were here, then maybe just maybe, your current life would be different.

You had dreams of becoming a preschool teacher since you were diagnosed at 15 with PCOS and you were told that your chances of getting pregnant were slim to none. It definitely hurt because since you didn’t have any immediate family left, that you wanted to have as many as you could.

But you figured if you couldn’t have any of your own that you would teach them instead. If you could plant little seeds into their minds that will be able to set them up for greatness then you were all for it.

You put on your newest lingerie set that was gifted to you by one if not your favorite supporter you would say who went by the name Mr.Missionary and was setting up your camera in order to get the perfect view.

One thing about you is that you never showed your face

Only thing they could see was from the neck down

You did that on purpose because the last thing you wanted was for someone to know what you looked like.

It wasn't the fact that you were embarrassed of what you did, but you wanted to remain as anonymous as possible so for the future, your career wouldn't be impacted. You could only imagine what would happen if someone found out what you had done in college when you were teaching their small children. It probably wouldn’t be good and the next thing that would probably happen is you being out of a job.

You saw time and time again that happening to different people and that's one thing you did not want to deal with.

But, back to Mr. Missionary

He was a sweet talker and knew exactly what to say.

It all started with a message from him asking you if you were comfortable showing your face to him.

Since he had been supportive of you since day one, you figured why not. But also told him not to share any of the photos that you sent him to anyone else.

So your jaw definitely dropped when you answered the incoming facetime call and was staring back at no one other than Jack Harlow.

The two of you would talk every week and you mentioned one time how you had never been off the east coast before and would love to go. Only Fans did pay well now that you had a lot of subscribers, but it hadn’t always been that way. However, you really only used the money for school and to make sure that you had a place to live.

The semester had just ended and you weren't taking any classes during the summer so Jack offered to fly you out to L.A. to spend a week with him while he was recording new songs and you quickly said yes.

This would happen periodically, him flying you out to different cities to meet him all summer long and soon you found yourself getting ready for the new semester to start.

You had about another year to go at Howard University in D.C. until you graduated with your degree in early childhood education while your friend Nadia was majoring in business administration.

The two of you met your freshman year and had been close ever since when you had to take a few prerequisite classes together.

She was from Louisville and was a big fan of Jack, but you didn't bother telling her what had happened between the two of you.

You signed an NDA anyway.

And since she had gone home for the summer, she had no reason for the thought to even cross her mind.

But when you just so happened to go to your OB/GYN appointment you had gotten a huge surprise.

You were pregnant and apparently had been for three months.

Your period was irregular and you would often go for months without getting one so you thought nothing of it.

The first thing you did when you got back to your apartment was call Nadia and couldn’t help but to blurt it out.

"I'M PREGNANT!"

"Well first of all hello to you too and WHAT?!”

"I can't get pregnant! At least that's what I was told. They told me that when I was fifteen!"

"Well apparently you can. How far along are you?"

"Three months apparently and I had absolutely no idea. I wasn’t craving anything, no morning sickness, no nothing. None of the usual symptoms."

"Oh so when the semester ended, those legs were open for business, huh?"

"NADIA! BE SERIOUS PLEASE." You said while pacing around your bedroom.

"Well, who's the father? Did you tell him?"

"Sooo, this is probably going to sound really bad." You muttered while pouring yourself something to drink.

You couldn’t see Nadia’s face, but you could just imagine how it looked.

"I mean, how bad? You're an adult who can do what you want."

"Ummm…. He’s one of my supporters for my cam show."

"Y/N!!!! IS THAT WHY YOU WERE FLYING EVERYWHERE THIS SUMMER!? YOU WENT TO SEE HIM DIDN’T YOU? DO YOU KNOW HOW DANGEROUS THAT COULD HAVE BEEN?"

"Um, maybe and well, I didn’t die."

"What do you mean maybe?! It's either yes or no! And you didn’t die, but now you came back pregnant!”

"Uh, then yes."

"You need to tell him NOW. It’s his responsibility as much as it is yours."

"I will and then I'll call you back." You said while sighing.

You didn't have enough courage to call him, but you needed to. It was better to get it over with sooner rather than later.

You knew he was busy and decided to text him first.

You- Hey, call me when you get a chance

Jack- I will right before I go to sleep tonight. Hopefully I can get another private show 😉

You didn't even bother responding and just waited for your phone to ring while working on assignments you had to do for class instead.

Another thing you had to worry about now was graduating on time since you were now pregnant and would be due at the start of the last semester before you graduated.

It was around 11:52 pm when your phone finally rang indicating an incoming facetime call from Jack.

"Hey pretty girl. I'm sorry it took me so long to call you.”

"Hey. It's okay, I was just studying while I waited.” You quietly said and Jack was immediately eyeing you knowing that something was wrong.

"You okay?" Jack curiously asked while looking at your solemn expression.

"No, not exactly." You quietly responded while starting to fidget as you closed your textbook that was in front of you.

It was now or never.

"What's going on?"

You took a deep sigh before the words left your mouth. Might as well get it over with.

"I'm pregnant."

Jack immediately went quiet and pinched the bridge of his nose before he said anything.

"I thought you said that you couldn't get pregnant and I always wore protection every time just in case."

"I thought so too and obviously you didn't."

"How do you know it's mine?" You immediately rolled your eyes.

"Didn't I spend basically the entire summer with you?"

"Some of it, not all of it. I don't know what you were doing when you weren't with me." Your jaw had hit the floor. He had some nerve.

"Don't do that. Why would I lie?"

"I'm being honest. Don't get mad at me for telling the truth. And why would you lie? Because I’m a millionaire the last time I checked, that’s why. Sounds like you tried to trap me."

"Look, I just want them taken care of. AND EXCUSE ME? TRAP YOU? ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS RIGHT NOW?"

"I still don't see what that has to do with me and yes trap me, you heard me the first time."

"Seriously? How could you even say that? I have given you no reason to think that about me."

“Well people can surprise you, everyday. Until I get a paternity test, I'm not believing anything."

That was about three years ago and nothing has changed since then.

You were basically a single mother and Jack popped in occasionally when he wanted to.

Which wasn't often.

You were struggling living on your own with no support system in D.C. and Nadia had convinced you to move to Kentucky to be near her so she could help out as much as she could. Her business was finally taking off and she told you that you could find a teaching job at one of the elementary schools since they were hiring for preschool teachers.

When Jack found out that you had moved to Louisville he was not only convinced that you trapped him, but now you were stalking him too.

He had no idea that you were in this by yourself, literally. No help from family or anything.

You could count on one hand how many times Jack had seen Ace since birth and you came to the conclusion that you were probably going to be a single mother and stopped asking him for anything. The last time that he had talked to you was almost two months ago. During that three minute conversation he didn’t even ask how his son was and he only lived less than fifteen minutes away from you.

After the paternity test was done and Jack was proven to be the father, he had accidentally left the paper out on the table and no one other than his younger brother Clay found it. He had questioned Jack about it and because Clay was holding the obvious proof in his hands there was no possible way for him to back out of it. Clay then took it upon himself to reach out to you because he wanted to meet Ace. He met him when he was a month old and at that time Jack had only been to see him once. Because of how he acted, you knew early on not to put his last name on Ace’s birth certificate.

After moving to Louisville, you met two of Nadia’s close friends, Blaire and Liv. Blaire was a baker who had her own bakery and would have breakfast waiting for you every day for you and Ace before you dropped him off at daycare and went to the school to teach while Liv taught kindergarten at the same school where you were. All four of you had become extremely close, but none of them knew who Ace’s father was.

Because you signed an NDA, all you ever told them was that he really wasn’t a part of his life and that you were doing this all on your own and they accepted that as an explanation, but it was only a matter of time before they found out the truth. You knew that they would all look at him differently because they were such big fans of him. Plenty of times they had asked you to go to his concerts with him, but you steadily declined, but they never questioned why.

All Jack did was send money to help with daycare and that’s when he actually remembered to do it. You got a discount since it was actually in the same school as where you taught, but it was still expensive. Especially on the salary that you got.

It was currently almost four in the afternoon and Jack was supposed to pick Ace up to spend time with him and you were hoping that they would be able to spend more time together. You knew that his career was demanding and he was at the height of it, but you just wanted Ace to have a relationship with him. He told you that he would be coming around 2 and that he would take Ace to the Louisville basketball game later with the rest of PG and spend the weekend with him.

From what you knew, Urban was the only one who knew about Ace and was guessing that this would be his opportunity to tell them. You sighed as you looked at your baby waiting at the door with his little backpack on wanting to see the moment his dad was going to come through the door.

After a while, he just sat down and sighed which made your heart break.

“Mommy, daddy not coming is he?” He quietly asked you and all you did was sigh.

“We just have to wait and see, bub. Maybe daddy got busy and got caught up with doing something.” One thing that you were tired of doing was making excuses for Jack.

“Does daddy love me?” He looked up at you with tears in his eyes and you quickly sat down next to him and slid him into your lap.

It took everything in you not to cry right then and there, but immediately pulled out your phone to call him.

“Of course he does. Here, baby. Let’s call him to see where he is.”

You didn’t know if you were trying to convince Ace or convince yourself.

You put the phone to Ace’s ear and Jack actually picked up on the third ring which you were surprised by.

“Hello?”

“DADDY! Where you at? Still coming to get me?”

“Oh, hey little man. Um, something came up, but I promise to get you another day.”

“But you promised you were coming today. You said that last time.”

“I know, bubs but I’ve just been so busy.”

Not wanting for the conversation to go on any further, Ace handed the phone to you with tears in his eyes, threw off his backpack and ran down the hallway into his room.

“Ace!” You called after him, but he continued down the hallway.

“Are you…..? Are you serious right now?! You made him cry because all you do is fucking lie to him and to me!” You took a deep breath before letting him have it.

“Y/N, please don’t fucking start.” You heard him say before sighing and you could hear cheering going on in the background indicating that he was already at the game.

“Oh, I’m going to fucking start because he has been excited for this all week! Why would you bail on your son like that? You did the same shit last time. You begged me to come and see him and when I told you what time would work best, what did you do? Not even bother to show up. Either you want to be in his life or you don’t and you need to make a decision. Tired of my child constantly being disappointed in his father.”

“Look, I’ll talk to you later.” Jack said and then hung up without another word leaving you fuming from your conversation.

You simply got up while grabbing Ace’s backpack and made your way to his room. Once you opened the door, you found him laying down with his head resting on his hands just staring off into space.

“Ace….”

“Mommy, can we just go to the park?” He asked not even mentioning what Jack had done.

“Sure, baby. Whatever you want. I also think that it’s a perfect day for ice cream. What do you say?”

At the mention of ice cream, Ace immediately perked up and eagerly nodded his head.

“Can I get chocolate chip cookie dough?”

“Whatever my Ace wants, he gets.”

Upon hearing this, he immediately smiled and you were happy that you could take his mind off of what his father had promised him, at least for a little while.

Two weeks had passed and you were rushing to get both of you out of the door and to Blaire’s bakery for breakfast so that the two of you would at least have something on your stomach for the busy day ahead.

You had sent a text last night to Jack asking him to send you money for daycare for the month of October, but he never responded leaving you frustrated because you literally now only had 24 hours to come up with the money otherwise you weren’t quite sure what you were going to do.

Your Only Fans was still active, but that was a last resort.

While driving to the bakery, Ace fell asleep in the backseat when you decided to call him.

“Yes, Y/N? What now? I’m busy.”

“Good morning to you too. Did you get my text last night?” You asked after rolling your eyes at how he greeted you.

“Didn’t I just give you money for daycare? Why do you need more already?”

“You see, Jackman….”

“Don’t call me that.”

“That’s your name isn’t it? Given to you by your parents?”

“Look, what do you want? I’m in the studio.”

“No need to be rude. I need more money for daycare. I have to pay it every month.”

“Why the fuck is it so expensive? Got damn a round trip to L.A. is cheaper.”

“I don’t know, but I already get a discount and I have to pay it by tomorrow so can you just send it to me?”

“1600 dollars?!? That’s the discounted price? You have got to be fucking kidding me. They act like you have six fucking kids. He’s one person.”

“Just… can you do it or not? I wouldn't ask you unless I absolutely had to.” You asked, hating that you even had to do so.

“Yeah, I’ll send it and you better be using it for daycare and not something else. Because if I find out you did, you better not ask me for it again. Anything else you want to bother me about?”

“Ace is in the car. Do you want to say good morning to him?”

“Not really. I’ll call him later. Bye.”

“I-....”

Jack hung up without another word and all you did was shake your head at him and how your three year old is more well mannered than he is.

Once you pulled up to the bakery, Blaire met you outside on the curb and immediately ran to your window with a bag of food as well as two drinks. A hot chocolate for Ace and her specially made coffee for you. You swore that she put jet fuel in it and as many times as you asked her for the recipe, she never told you.

It literally allowed for you to stay energized throughout the day and didn't even want to know how much caffeine was in it.

She handed you yours, while she opened Ace’s door and handed him his.

“Thank you, Auntie Blaire.” He quietly said before taking it and you looked back at him to see that he was pouting and Blaire immediately asked him what was wrong before you could.

“Daddy didn’t say good morning to me when he talked to mommy.”

Oh.

So he was awake.

“I’m just sure he was really busy. You can try calling him later once you get home, yeah?” She said to try and get a smile at him, but all he did was nod his head.

So much for getting a good start to the day.

Ace had been upset the entire time he was in daycare even when you went to go and check on him and brought a cookie as a peace offering which he wasn't excited by and thought that making his latest favorite dinner might take his mind off of it.

You never in a million years thought that Ace would love to help you cook, but here you were. He told you that he wanted to be a chef when he grew up, so you obviously set him up with everything that he might need.

He told you on the way home that he wanted to make chicken parm with noodles so you stopped by the store to grab the ingredients.

Ace was wearing his apron that you had gotten him as a gift for his birthday which said Chef Ace on it and standing on his step stool to add salt to the boiling water for the noodles while you were finishing cutting up the chicken and about to start making the breading for it.

He didn't bring up for the rest of the day what had happened with Jack earlier, but you had a feeling that it was coming and more than likely it would be around bedtime. But for now, you were simply going to focus on spending time with your little one.

“Ace, do you want to grab the Italian seasoning for mommy to use?”

“Yes!”

He promptly moved his step stool to be in front of the spice cabinet and climbed up when there was a knock on the door.

Ace had handed it to you and stepped down before going to get a sip of juice out of his sippy cup.

“Be right back, bubs. Remember don't touch anything without mommy being in here with you. We don't need you getting hurt.”

“Okay, promise.” He quickly answered before taking another swig of his juice as you went to answer the door to come face to face with Nadia, Blaire, and Liv.

“Heyyy. Blaire told us baby daddy troubles this morning sooooo…. We brought wine and lemon cake that Blaire made for Ace.” Nadia said as she held up the wine and Liv held up the cake and all three of them were smiling back at you.

“You guys didn't….”

“Shut up and let us in. Yes we did and what is our little chef making tonight?” Liv asked as you moved to the side and let them in while closing the door behind you.

“Chicken parm and salad and Blaire’s cake can be added to that now.”

“HI AUNTIES!” You heard Ace as he ran full speed towards the four of you.

“Auntie’s baby!” Nadia exclaimed as she opened her arms to engulf him into a hug.

“Food should be about done in another thirty minutes.”

“Well until then, we have the wine to keep us occupied.”

After gushing over how good the meal was along with Blaire’s lemon cake, Nadia pulled out her phone and shoved it towards you.

“What am I looking at?” You asked her as Ace had climbed into your lap.

“Jack Harlow and his No Place Like Home concert. I thought I would get tickets for all of us to go.”

Ace then peered at her phone and got a confused look on his face.

“Oh, that's daddy!”

Silence.

Looks of shock.

Looks of disbelief.

Nadia, Liv, and Blaire knew how intelligent Ace was so they didn't think that this would be something that he would lie about all while trying to wrap their heads around it.

When no one said anything, Ace turned to look at you.

“Are we going to call him before I go to sleep?”

“Um, sure bubs. We’ll call him. Do you want to go and pick out a book for us to read tonight before we do?”

He eagerly nodded before hopping down off your lap and heading to his bookshelf in his bedroom.

All you did was sigh and wait for the interrogation to begin.

Nadia was first.

“Y/N!!!!! I…. WHAT!?”

“Do not say anything because the last thing I need is him finding out that other people know.”

“He is a literal ASSHOLE to you and Ace. The mother of his son and his actual son. All the shit that you’ve told us he’s done!?! Or hasn't done for that matter.” Liv exclaimed as she poured herself another glass of wine.

“So that's who was flying you out that summer?”

You simply nodded.

“Y/N…..”

“Look, I don't need the looks of pity. I’m fine, my son is fine and that's all that matters. We’re going to be okay with or without him.”

Blaire who had been quiet the entire time simply shook her head.

“I can always call my brothers to jump him.”

“NO, BLAIRE!”

“The offer still stands. Just say the word.” She replied while shrugging.

“I know how you three love his music so get the tickets and have fun. Me and Ace will be okay.”

“No. One band, one sound bitch. If you have beef with Jack Harlow, so do we.” Nadia said while crossing her arms.

“Come to think of it… Ace does look an awful lot like him.”

“All I can do every day when we go out is pray that no one notices. I have to protect him and it’s sad that I actually have to do it from his father.”

It was around 7 PM when you had finished giving Ace a bath and had finished reading the book that he picked out earlier to him when he asked to call Jack.

“Can we call daddy now?” He asked looking up at you hopeful and all you did was give him a small smile.

“Of course we can.”

You grabbed your phone and attempted to call Jack on facetime while handing it to Ace.

All it did was continuously ring and you saw the pout on Ace’s face become more pronounced.

“Maybe, he’s just busy, bubs.” You quietly said before you took your phone back and the look of disappointment across his face broke your heart.

“He’s always busy, mommy.”

“But, at least you get to spend the day with him tomorrow! That’s something to be excited about. Do you have any idea about what you want to do?”

Jack had begged you to come and get him tomorrow to make up for not taking him to the basketball game with him and as much as you felt that he was going to go back on his word, but you were willing to give him another chance. But the chances were slowly running out.

“No, I’m just sleepy.”

“Okay, let’s get tucked in so we can sleep.”

Once you had gotten Ace settled, you went into your room and logged onto your banking app to see that Jack in fact did send you the money to pay for daycare and you let out a sigh of relief that you didn’t realize that you had been holding.

Ten minutes later, you got a text from him.

Jack- I’ll come and get him tomorrow. Be there around nine.

Hopefully this was a way for him to redeem himself for not showing up the other day and prayed that he would follow through.

You were tired of seeing your child disappointed.

The next morning after getting Ace ready, Clay came to get him and you would say that you were surprised that it wasn’t Jack, but that would be a lie. Ace was still excited to see Clay, so the last thing you wanted to do was upset him. You got to have a full day to yourself which you hadn’t had in a while.

Your time was spent going to the mall, seeing a movie, and even going to your favorite restaurant by yourself.

You made sure to soak this all in because you didn’t know the next time that you would be able to get another opportunity to do this and spend your time and money on yourself.

It was around 5 PM when Clay dropped off Ace who you could tell was still on a sugar high since he was running around the apartment and not able to keep still for three minutes when you got on the topic of Clay’s brother since you knew that it was inevitable.

"Clay, I have given him chance after chance to do right by him and he literally disappoints me and him every time."

"I know and I'm…."

"No. Do not apologize for him. If he could have just seen his face when he promised to come and get him to go to the game with all of you and to have a cooking date and he didn't show. Like my baby was bawling with tears running down his face and asked me does daddy even love me? Clay my heart can't take too much more of this. This has been going on for way longer than it should have. My son is my entire world and he deserves a father in his life that wants to be consistent and be there for him. I don't think Jack will ever get there."

"So I guess I shouldn't tell you that he still hasn't told our parents about you or Ace?" Clay asked while scratching the back of his neck.

You then looked at Clay in disbelief as Ace came up on your left side and lifted his hands up to indicate he wanted to be picked up by you or his uncle and Clay quickly did.

"Your brother is just full of surprises isn't he? You're more of a father to him than he is."

"Reality hasn't hit him yet."

"It doesn't take three years. It's just crazy how you were the only one who welcomed him with open arms, but then again you had already saw the DNA results so you had no choice but to believe me. I guess Jack never thought in his wildest dreams he would sleep with a cam girl and end up with a kid."

Just then your phone went off indicating a text from the man of the hour.

Jack- Y/N, I know you're mad at me but I promise to get him next time.

You- Don't even worry about it. Once again your little brother is stepping up and doing what you should have done. So much that he actually called him dad the other day. Think about that.

You saw Jack would start texting and then stop indicating that he didn't have a good comeback for that one.

How could he?

It had been a quick slip up a few weeks ago by Ace, but Clay simply brushed it off and thought nothing of it. You remembered him saying to Ace, ‘Well we do look alike, don’t we?’ And he quickly agreed.

And just then your phone went off indicating Jack was calling you.

"What?" You asked as you rolled your eyes.

"I'll be outside in 20 minutes and I want to see my son."

Once you hung up, Clay turned to you and asked you what he said.

“He said that he wants to see him, but my thing is that if you really did want to see him then you would have gotten him earlier. The last thing he better do when he comes in here is make a scene.”

Twenty minutes didn’t even pass before you heard knocking on the front door and you immediately rolled your eyes before getting up to answer it.

Once you did, Jack was clearly annoyed and was looking right past you to see where Ace was.

“Where’s my son?”

“Oh, so now he’s your son? Are there certain days of the week that you claim him or?”

“Y/N, I’m not doing this with you right now, where is Ace?”

“He’s with your brother in the kitchen if you must know and you better not go in there and make him upset.”

“Now, why would I make him upset?”

“I don’t know, you tell me. Since all he knows you’re good for is disappointing him.”

Jack didn’t even bother to respond as he walked past you to come face to face with Clay playing with Ace.

Once Ace saw him, he quickly ran to hide behind Clay.

“Bubs, it’s me, daddy. No reason to be scared.”

All Ace did was peek out behind Clay’s leg who was trying to also tell him that it was okay.

“I’m sorry that I didn’t come and get you today, but I promise that I will next time.”

This led to Ace shaking his head no and holding onto Clay’s leg tighter.

“Ace, what’s the matter?” Jack asked seeing as Ace had never acted this way towards him before.

“Daddy, you forgot about me….. Again.”

“I… I didn’t forget. Daddy’s just been really busy, but I’m here now.”

“Maybe if you actually showed up when you were supposed to this wouldn’t be happening.” Clay snapped at Jack as Ace quickly ran to you and you picked him up as he hid in the crook of your neck.

“Clay, I already get it enough from Y/N, I don’t need to hear it from you too.”

“Well obviously you do, because hearing it from one person obviously isn’t enough! Now, why is your kid calling me daddy? Oh, right. Because his real dad actually ignores him.” Clay said while raising his voice at his older brother.

“I DON’T IGNORE MY SON!”

“WHEN IS THE LAST TIME YOU ACTUALLY SPENT TIME WITH HIM? I’VE SEEN HIM MORE TIMES SINCE HE’S BEEN ALIVE THAN YOU HAVE!”

At their heated exchange, Ace began to cry and you knew that you needed to put a stop to this immediately.

“Okay, you two, we’re done. Jack, get out.”

“If I leave, I’m taking Ace with me.”

“You are not taking MY son anywhere. Can’t you see how upset you made him? And I told you once you step foot in here not to upset him and you did the exact opposite. Just leave. You've done enough.”

Jack had let out a frustrated sigh as he was contemplating his next move. He stepped towards you, but was immediately blocked by Clay stepping in front of you.

“Just do what she asked you to do and leave.”

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