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#but i've planned this for 7 months so

a-b-riddle · 3 days

Text

Part Four

Can't stop thinking about reader losing her cool.

"So we're closed, John." You said, trying to be cordial.

"Is that all you have to fucking say?" He practically growled before huffing. A humorless chuckle rumbling out of his chest. "I suppose not since you won't respond to any of us."

"Don't do that." You said taking a step back. Trying to create some distance between you and him. John would never physically hurt you. That much you knew.

"What?" He asked. His voice rising as he stepped closer to you. "Be angry that you pulled that shit and then left? Stopped talking to us. Changed your fucking locks. Last thing we even knew about you was that you got on a fucking plane and left. Even your friends wouldn't tell us anything besides that you were okay." "Which considering this came out of bloody nowhere, I find it highly unlikely that you are in any way 'okay'."

You took a deep breath. You wouldn't be intimidated. You wouldn't clam up. You wouldn't cry. You won't go back on your decision. You will be cordial and polite and not unleash everything you want to.

"I understand you might be upset, but it's for the best. It wasn't working out and I wanted to end on somewhat good terms. I would appreciate it if you lowered your voice and stopped speaking to me in that way." You could barely recognize your voice. It sounded so scripted. So robotic. But it was something you had been telling yourself. Excuses you had been telling yourself.

Because if you told yourself the truth. The picture you would paint would tell a different story. It wouldn't highlight the fact that John spoke to you like he was one of your men or that Johnny had the emotional capacity of a teaspoon. It wouldn't show what a flake Kyle was or that Simon was well and truly a mean-spirited person.

It would show how you weren't worth it. Four possible men. Four possibilities of happily ever after and none of them chose you. That no one ever did and no one ever would. You weren't worth it. You weren't loveable.

It wasn't right, but it was what the voices had been telling you late in the night. When you would crawl into your cold bed. The silence of the room not filled with John's steady breathing or the sound of Kyle's heartbeat as you laid you head on his chest. The absence of Johnny's occasional snoring or whatever Simon was watching playing in the background of your dreams.

In the void, all your dark thoughts came back at you.

"Upset?" He asked, his voice still louder than you would have liked. "An understatement considering the stunt you pulled."

"You think it was a stunt?"

"So Johnny thought with his dick and didn't plan things out. You should have told him instead of crying to Simon and then pulling this shit." "Christ, I knew you were still young, but I didn't take you for that immature."

"You know what?" "I'm done." "I am so fucking sick of making excuses for you all." "You want to act like I'm the immature one, John?" "You are 35-year-old man who cannot separate his work from his work like. You have continuously talked to and down to me like I am one of your men, only to turn around and always blame your shitty fucking attitude on work. I get that your job is stressful, but I did not sign up to be your verbal fucking punching bag."

"And this come and fucking go incident with Johnny. It has been a consistent issue with him coming over just to fuck. I've asked him for that last six months that 'hey, we've been seeing each other for a year and a half, I would love to meet your family' and suddenly the dates stop. He doesn't ask to see me until after 7 PM. He brings food occasionally, fucks me and leaves. Sometimes before I even wake up."

"And the only reason Kyle is the person I am the least pissed off with is because I haven't even seen him." You took a step closer, not noticing how the anger in John's eyes had softened. "I have not seen Kyle in weeks, to no fault of my own. I stopped reaching out to make dinner plans after the third time he canceled on a date night when I was either on my way or already at the restaurant."

"And Simon?" You scoffed. "Well, it doesn't really matter. After all, as he said I get mine. You all make me cum which is supposed to magically erase how shitty you've all been as partners. It's supposed to erase the nights I've cried myself to sleep debating on whether or not there was something wrong with me. How I'm not good enough to meet anyone else in your lives like some dirty fucking secret. How none of you can even bother to pencil me for a group dinner so I can tell you a publishing house picked up my book. How at some point you all stopped caring or maybe never did."

You took a breath. Blinking quickly to keep the tears at bay.

You wouldn't cry. You wouldn't cry.

"As Simon said it best, I should have known that spreading my legs wouldn’t end with one of you putting a ring on your finger.”

For once, John was silent. Unsure of what to say. An apology starting to form at the tip of his tongue before realizing 'sorry' wouldn't cut it. Not this time.

Had he really been that sharp with you? He knew that there were times he had gotten short, but he almost always apologized immediately after. If not at the very moment he took in your crest-fallen face, then definitely later. But he almost always told you he was sorry. Didn't he?

"So as I said," you swallowed down the lump in your throat. "I'm closed. We're done. Now get out." Your face held no sadness. Even though your eyes were nearly full to the brim with unshed tears, you weren't sad.

You were finally angry.

#captain john price #kyle gaz garrick #simon ghost riley #call of duty #john soap mactavish #angst #angst with a happy ending

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talaok · 2 months

Note

Love your writing! Could we please do a cute pregnant reader x Pedro going to and at the SAG awards in honour of our boy winning! 🤍🙏🏼

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x pregnant!reader

a/n: this is how i found out he won btw. I'm so happy for him i cant even, I just love that fucking guy gosh ahhhh (as always this request skipped the line bc it wouldnt make sense in a month)

Gif credits: @tessas-thompson

"thank you" you told him as he emerged from underneath your bump after having slipped your shoes on for you.

Turns out that when you're 7 months and a half pregnant, the most basic tasks like putting on shoes become a two person job.

He only smiled, kissing your belly and then your lips before standing up, offering you a hand to do the same.

"Heels would have looked much better with this dress" you pouted, studying yourself in the mirror,

You hated ballerinas, but again, you weren't really in the condition to wear anything else.

"You look stunning sugar" he promised, kissing the crown of your head

You couldn't help but snort.

As much as he told you so over and over, together with everyone else in your life... you still struggled to see it, especially now in this uncomfortable dress.

"I look like a stuffed turkey" you sighed "and my boobs are so much bigger than when I first tried this dress, now they look a move away from spilling out"

His eyes twinkled with kindness, with love as he placed his hands on your waist and turned you towards him, away from your reflection.

"You're beautiful sweetheart" he promised, one hand now stroking your cheek as your own hands went to his waist "You're sexy and gorgeous and so fucking hot that if Coco wasn't still here I would demonstrate just how much right here right now" he growled, not giving you time to answer before he kissed you, soft at first, and then once you whimpered, it was like a switch turned and he was fiery and passionate and his left hand trailed to your ass and-

"Pedro!" you scolded him quietly, eyeing Coco on the other side of the room.

"she's seen worse"

She had.

Nonetheless, he took a step back, returning his hand to your waist.

"Thank you" you murmured, looking up into his hazel eyes "and by they way, you look very beautiful too"

You could have sworn you saw red staining his cheeks

"thank you baby"

You adjusted his shirt, as you got lost in your own mind.

There he was, you beautiful, talented, Emmy, golden globe and SAG award nominated husband, looking every bit as perfect as ever.

And just like that, tears pooled in your eyes

"what's wrong?" he asked, worried

"I just-" you sniffled, trying to fight the tears as your lips trembled "I-I'm so proud of you"

"aw sweetheart" he cooed, half laughing as he wrapped you into his arms.

He'd gotten used to it now, taking care of your over-emotional self was part of his daily routine.

"Y-you just" you cried "you worked so hard a-" another quiet sob "and n- now you're finally getting the recognition you deserve I-"

"I know baby, I know" he cooed, softly kissing the top of your head "thank you" he smiled, his fingers drawing soothing circles on your back "It means a lot to me too,"

"I love you" you murmured, finally raising your head to look at him

"I love you too honey" he kissed you, laughing softly as he pulled back to see tears still running down your cheeks "You're gonna cry the whole night, aren't you?"

"I made the makeup artist use only waterproof products" was your way of saying yes, yes I'm going to, and yes I've already planned ahead

He chuckled, kissing your forehead as his hands trailed to your bump, soft kicks hitting his palms.

"She's excited" he murmured

"She's proud of her daddy too"

__ __ __

Pedro Pascal.

Pedro P-

Your husband. they had called your husband.

It was probably comical from the outside, seeing the shock on both your faces as you stared blankly at each other, the way your mouth gaped open, while he slapped a hand onto his, it was like- it was like time had stopped, and the word went completely quiet, until- until-

"oh my god" you breathed, throwing your arms around him and hugging him so tight it probably hurt

He didn't dare speak a word as you leaned away, landing a kiss on his mouth as you gripped his face

"go" you laughed, grinning like an idiot as tears glimmered into your eyes "go" you urged again, this time, having him comply.

You watched every step, every move, until he was right in front of the microphone, his award in his hands.

"This is umh" he mumbled "This is wrong for a number of reasons-"

he was in shock, his voice trembling, his eyes watery, but he kept going

"b-but thank you hbo, Bella Ramsey, Craig Mazin, Neil Drukman, Frannie, and -" A shaky sigh fled his mouth, as he chuckled to himself "jeez louise I'm making a fool of myself and my wife is gonna make so much fun of me for it and-"

All the sudden his eyes were on you,

"my wife" he smiled, his smile brighter than the sun "I wanna thank my beautiful, amazing, intelligent, and perfect wife" he said "I love you y/n, I love you and our daughter more than anything in this world and if I'm here today- If I'm here today is mostly because of you"

You were shaking from how hard you were crying, from how happy, ecstatic, and euphoric you were for him.

"You've made me the happiest man on this earth, you've made me a dad, you- you're my everything sweetheart" he beamed "so thank you"

He stopped a moment, as if realizing only now this had all really happened

"And now I'm gonna stop talking 'cause I need to get down there to kiss you and try to make you stop crying" he laughed, ending his speech

"thank you, everybody, really, thank you"

__ __ __

He did exactly as he said,

he held you tight as he kissed you like the world was gonna end tomorrow, like if he didn't he was gonna die

And when he leaned away- when he leaned away time stopped once again, but as he pressed his forehead to yours, as you lost yourself in each other's eyes, you remembered

"You said it was wrong" you said, both your hands holding his face "but it's not" you shook your head, watching his eyes water "you deserve this baby, you do"

"sweetheart-"

"no" you shut him off, your voice hoarse from the sobs, but it didn't matter, you wanted him to know, you needed him to know "No I need you to understand that you do baby" You smiled "that you worked your ass off and that you deserve every single inch of this award" you took a deep breath, steadying your voice as you looked at him, so many unspoken words traveling between you

"ok?" you asked, finally

"ok" he beamed, kissing you again "God I love you so much"

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ao3commentoftheday · 6 months

Note

Idk if this is too broad of a scope for this blog, but if you could answer this, it'd be great.

I've been in a writing rut since I started getting serious about writing, and I've identified the issue in the past month or so: I slant heavily on the gardener end of the writing spectrum and all the advice on writing I've ever seen was for architect-style writing. Not once in the eight years I've been serious about writing did I find any guides on gardener-style writing (and if it says it's gardener-style, it'sreally just architect-style with gardner aspects), and my experience has just been more or less jamming a square peg into a circle hole, getting nothing written and feeling bad about it.

Now I'm unlearning all the architect-style habits that are destructive to me as a writer, but I can't find any resources for gardeners aside from Stephen King's On Writing. If you or any of your followers know how to help a gardener's writing, that would be great. I have so many fic ideas I want to write, but can't since I'm learning to write all over again.

For those who don't know what gardener and architect refer to when it comes to writers, a gardener is a writer who starts with the seed of an idea and lets it grow in whatever direction the light shines. They prune it and weed it as they go but otherwise let the idea lead the way. An architect, on the other hand, plans their stories out first and then writes them. They have a structure and the details all mapped out first and then the writing is just executing on that vision.

As a gardener myself, my biggest piece of advice is to avoid writing advice. Like you've said, the majority of it is aimed at people who do things like plan and plot and worldbuild ahead of time. Because of the structure that that writing style enjoys, providing "one size fits most" writing advice works well for it.

I tend to find a lot of that advice to be counter to what I need to do. Planning a story out ahead just makes me feel like it's already written. Building out the world before I start writing it feels like a hollow exercise - more like writing an encyclopedia than developing a land and culture for my characters to inhabit.

What I find useful is taking an episodic approach to writing. The entire story will be like a season of a television show and each chapter is like one episode. I always have my eventual "season finale" end goal in mind, but any particular chapter can meander closer to or further from that goal. It's alright to take a circuitous route, as long as I get to my destination in the end.

It's also alright if my destination changes as I'm writing. Sometimes those meandering paths take me in a more interesting direction than I was originally going down, and that shifts the story. As long as you're vaguely following a three-act structure (or 5 act or 7 act), the flow of it will feel familiar to your readers and they probably won't really notice it happening.

This advice I'm giving might not ring true to you either. You didn't have a specific problem to address, so I've been wandering a bit in my reply. Really what it comes down to is paying attention to yourself and your needs. Figure out what it is that keeps you writing and what it is that makes you stop. Do more of the former and less of the latter - and don't worry if what you're doing is "weird" to someone else.

I write directly into the AO3 window (which AO3 specifically tells you NOT to do, btw) because drafting first in google docs or something takes the fun out of it for me. I post my chapters without previewing them first. I write in 800 to 1500 word sprints, and I focus on dialogue, and I almost always try to end on a joke or a pun or a cliffhanger. These are all things that make writing an activity that I want to do.

I can't really say anything much more specific given your ask, but I hope something in here was helpful. Let's see if any gardeners out there have some resources or advice that might work for you.

#asks and answers #long post

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jjks1ut · 2 months

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Need Help?

pairing: nanami x reader

summary:with the upcoming test you have for biology your boyfriend has quite the sly way to help you study.

cw:explicit content, edging, cockwarming, pet names, sexual tension, fingering, spanking, overstimulation, praise, teasing

a/n:here I am with some more jjk content since I've been lacking in my posting for the past few months with school and all, hope this is a read you can all enjoy as always ;)

You still can’t believe how you ended up here, but there you were nestled on Nanami’s lap at his place with his cock right there at the walls of your clenching wet pussy. There you sat with all your clothes strewn into some pile on the floor while he sat there practically half clothed giving you that ever so smug look while you mercilessly begged for his pleasure barely able to move with the tight grip he held at your waist.

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

You had just left your last class for the evening on a regular Friday night, it was the perfect time to be hanging out with friends and probably even get wasted at a club or two. But, with your most recent grade in biology dropping down to a 50% you grew a little concerned with the possibility of failing the next assessment that would be just the following Monday.

‘I advise you get yourself situated with a tutor.’,was your biology teacher's last words to you as she handed out the papers on your way to leave the lecture hall.

“What an asshole”, you thought to yourself as you made your way from the train station as you texted your boyfriend furiously about your frustration with the professor’s attitude.

‘Omg Kento I can’t believe my professor and her damn attitude, I know I need a tutor with my grade and all but she doesn’t have to be in my ass about it :(‘. You texted him and like always you could already see he had read the message and was ready to respond in a matter of seconds.

‘Your grade? Are you failing a class?’, he had texted you, and you could already feel the overbearing concern from his side.

It had been known from the start of your relationship but your boyfriend Kento Nanami was a nerd, almost like the ones in movies. Constantly studying, always in the library, and you could never catch this man with a late assignment. Even if he was practically on his deathbed he would make sure he turned in that one history essay.

And funny enough the way you two first met had been through him as your tutor in the first place when through enough sessions together you found yourselves in a heated make our session somewhere buried in the back shelves of the college’s library.

‘It’s nothing, it's just a simple 50%. The semester only started so by my next exam I should be able to fix it’, you texted back trying to make excuses for your poor scores, but you knew Kento wasn’t there for that bull where you would constantly procrastinate.

As a new message flew into your inbox.

‘Cancel any plans you have, you're coming over to my place later to study’, he had texted back.

‘Take a nap or whatever you need to do, I want you over before 7’, Nanami added as well. It was a strange request that even made you a little frustrated at how he was trying to order you around.

Even so, you always enjoyed a good time at your boyfriend’s place. And, who knows, probably you’ll get something out of it by the end of the night ;).

So there you were just having woken up from a nap an hour prior as you began to get yourself ready. Luckily, you didn’t mind coming over either as you two lived just a block or two away as in just a matter of minutes you were already in front of his door ringing his bell.

“Hey”, he gave you a soft smile before wrapping his arm around your waist to pull you in for a soft kiss on the cheek.

He may have been strict when it came to work and how he felt about grades but he wasn’t an asshole. He cared about you to the fullest extent he could at the end of the day

So As Kento was helping you with your jacket, put it in some closet nearby you could see he was clearly serious about studying. There across his coffee table in his living room was filled with worksheets, and even some books on the subject of biology. “Oh you meant actual studying?”, you whispered under your breath not even realizing he heard you.

“What did you think we were doing?”. He questioned taking a quick look over his shoulder as he was bringing you two drinks back over to the coffee table as he made himself comfortable next to you.

“No nothing Nanami”, you laughed softly which coaxed a small smile as well from his previously stern expression. “Well, have some liquids in your system I know we’re gonna be doing a lot of talking”, he jokes back as he hands you your drink.

“Oh shut up”, you teased back but taking the beverage even so.

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

“Nanamiii, can we go on break.”, you whined to him as you dropped your pencil on the coffee table sitting back to give Nanami your best puppy dog eyes. You were sitting beside him on the couch only an hour and a few minutes into the study sesh yet already on your 10th break. But come on it wasn’t your fault when your hot ass boyfriend was right beside you watching you keenly as you worked. Like how the fuck were you supposed to focus when all that fogged your mind was thoughts of him.

From the way his well manicured yet veiny hands ran over your workbook reading over your work. The way he would constantly reassure you as his fingers ran long and languid movements along your spine bringing an ache to your core.

All these actions left you with nothing but scenarios of him fucking you from behind right there on that couch, kissing down your neck as his hands ran along your thighs, anything would make you calmer if it wasn’t for how handsome Nanami was even minding his own business.

“Are you listening?”, he called out as his palm was over your thigh, pinching it softly to catch your attention. You could see on his face he was slightly worried but a bit of annoyance lied in his face as well. “It’s only been an hour since we started and at least 80% was spent on these breaks”, he frowned.

It killed you to see Nanami this way when the last thing you wanted to do was piss him off. “I'm sorry it’s just I can’t focus alright? From the worksheets to the flashcards, do you have any other methods?” You spoke up as you watched a small grin form on his face and even a suspicious bulge peeking from the zipper at his pants.

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

So there it finally was as Nanami’s cock was buried deep within the brim of your walls. “So remind me what the calvin cycle is, hm?”Nanami whispered low as his finger took a casual flick at your aching clit that was begging for his touch as he continued to edge you even so.

“N- Namai?, please you know I-,” you whimper. This had been going on for a third of an hour or so. Nanami would ask you a question from your study sheet he had set up for you and you would answer. simple, right?

And without you even being able to finish your sentence another firm slap landed on your bare ass as he had slipped off your pants from earlier.

“Wrong”, he spoke cockily. You knew your boyfriend was more experienced then he put on, as even during your first time together you never expected all that he had done that night. But what was happening here was nothing compared to the original Nanami you saw in this bedroom. Usually he was such a caring lover as he catered to all your possible needs during your passionate nights.

Now a contrast was brought as Nanami was showing pure dominance not taking any of your whiny pleads as he brought another snap that you had mewling his name like a bitch in heat.

“Don’t act like you don’t like this, either way you better prepare yourself because until you can remember this entire sheet we’re gonna keep at this” he continued on forcing you to look right at him as if tears weren’t rolling right off your pretty little eyes. With his words you nodded as he gladly wiped your tears with a small comforting smile, “Good girl”.

“So tell me what's binary fission?”, he now asked as you tried your best even in your fuzzy thoughts brimmed with the feeling of Nanami’s member throbbing from inside you. “Um, does it have to do with things with a single cell”, you huffed out as you could already feel the way your legs shaked and quivered as you tried to hold yourself up with the firm grip he held at your waist, and you could already feel your eyelids grow heavy just the same.

Yet Nanami notices quickly moves his hands to your hips and pushes you up, so that you're around halfway down on his cock. you let out a small shudder, and you can tell your almost there just is not correct yet. “And, what else”, he spoke as he pulled your face in close with a firm grip on your scalp.

“Reproducing”, you answer immediately and almost just as fast you're rewarded. Nanami allows you to ride him again. you move up and down a little quickly, scared that your boyfriend will rob you of the feeling before it's even begun. And the entire time you watch as he eyes your eager appearance as he pulls you in from that pull he had on the back of your head for a sloppy and heeded kiss.

“Nanami~, I want more-”, you whimpered as you grinded up against him eagerly but the moment was quickly stopped as he grabbed at your hips again and brought a slap down on your ass once more. “Fuck-, just answer the next question and we can finish for tonight”, he groaned close to letting you keep up with your grind on his cock.

Nanami knew this was supposed to be a sort of punishment for your lack of focus but your pretty face ever so ruined by the smear of your runny makeup, your perfect bare body out in the open for him to use as he pleased, at this point fuck the work he wanted you right over this coffee table fuckong your brains out.

“Tell me what a cell is.”, he asked, simply giving you a confused look. “But, Nanami, that's not on the-”. Quietly your words are shut down with another smack as you whimper at the slam against your rear.

“Just answer the fuckin question”, he practically begged you, so once you dumbly stutter, genuinely unsure of the answer Nanami can’t even care if its right.

From there you’re bent over the coffee table as your eyes are drooping, body aching and face hot as you stutter out your dumbfounded words of pleasure.

“We should study like this more often”, he chuckles as you curled up against his chest as you were watching some stupid movie on the tv in front of you two.

“I bet you remember way more now.”

#anime #fanfic #jjk x reader #jjk x reader smut #jjk smut #jujutsu sorcerer #jjk fanfic #nanami kento #nanami x reader #nanami smut #nanami x y/n #nanami kento x you #jjk nanami #jujutsu kaisen x reader

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bradshawsbaby · 7 months

Text

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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amisonist · 2 months

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fuck it transition timeline

I was originally gonna wait until July to do this because that'll mark 3 years on E but I feel like now's a good time all things considered

With that out of the way lets start from the beginning AKA freshman year (AKA 2018)

This was on my way to band camp which is why you can see my trombone in the background (random fact: that was the only year I got to do marching band and our show was "the music of harry potter". yeah irony's a bitch ain't she?)

Graduation picture featuring the bestest boi Jinn :3

This pic is from 2020 because I switched to online and finished high school early out of spite (I was 16 here if you were wondering)

Now then this is from 2021 and was taken only about a week before I started hrt when I was 17

The lake in the background is Lake Superior in case you were wondering. Me and my mother were all the way up on the Keweenaw Peninsula for my family's 4th of July party held at the family farm

Moving on from that I started HRT on July 22 2021 (the appointment was at 9:30 am and I took my first dose at 7:42 pm yes I kept track)

This was taken like a half hour after my first dose (I actually don't really like this pic that much but I'm including it because it is important)

Fast forward from that a year to 2022 when I was 18 and here are a few pics of me around then one of which again featuring best boi Jinn

(it was windy out that day and he tried to bite me immediately after this lmao)

I've never been particularly good at taking selfies lmao

That brings us to now. I've been on hrt for about 2.5 years now if my math is correct. I'm pretty much living full time as a woman, started laser hair removal a couple months ago (next apt is actually tomorrow lol), and I'm working on getting my legal name and gender changed. It's been a long ride thus far and I don't really plan on stopping anytime soon so yeah here ya go

So that's it! At least thus far lol

also fuck photomatt 🚗🔨💥

#Trans #Transgender #transition timeline #queer #lesbian #long post #I might have gotten a little bit carried away there lol #🚗🔨💥#idgaf if this is cheesy or whatever #I kinda like how it turned out #took too long to gather all these together #I like never take pics of myself #my camera roll is just 4000 memes

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daxerian · 9 months

Text

Mama y Papa

Carlos Sainz x Reader x Lando Norris

Warnings: my grammar😻, sickness and fluff

Words: around 4k I think

A/n: I am so sorry I was gone for a month but girlie was sick and wanted to spend time with her friends and family🤞🏼

Y/N was talking to Carmen about life you know? Work, their relationships, family, etc.

It was a pretty deep conversation until they heard "Y/nnnnn?"

Of course, it was Lando asking his 'grid mum' for something to help him with, which was no problem from her side but when she saw Lando holding a bottle of water and looking a bit annoyed, she couldn't help but chuckle.

"Oh, Lando what's wrong?" Carmen asked smiling knowing that the 2 had a mother/son bond that will never be broken.

"I can't open the bottle and I couldn't find Carlos" Lando answered Carmen. "Hand me the bottle darling" Y/N said while waiting for Lando to give her the bottle. She opened it like nothing and handed it back to him, "There you go" Lando just looked at the bottle for a few seconds and then took it, "Thank you Y/N" "No problem Lando"

----

It was around 1 am when Y/N found herself looking at the wall cursing herself out for drinking coffee at 7 pm. At least Carlos is having the time of his life sleeping and clinging to her body.

She was snapped out of her thoughts when somebody decided to call her. She only wondered, who the hell would want to call at this hour? Surprisingly it was Lando, she went into an instant worry in seconds and picked up almost immediately.

"Lando, are you okay?" The worry in her voice was incredible because people wouldn't worry like that when their friends called at night, well that was not the case for Y/N and Carlos Sainz.

"Can you pick me up? I'm near the coffee shop you like and it's freezing and I don't have a jacket or a sweatshirt" Lando answered her, "I'll be there" She hung up the phone a started to wake Carlos up. "Carlos, wake up! Carlos!" once he did wake up he asked his wife "What's wrong mi amor?"

"It's Lando" and that sentence was all it took for Carlos to fully wake up. "Well, why are you still laying in bed? Let's go" Carlos hurried his wife out of bed because if something would happen to Lando he wouldn't survive it. He promised himself that he would take care of him the second he met him.

---

It was the day after the British GP and Lando wasn’t feeling well, was it because he went out clubbing to celebrate? Probably yes.

He tried calling Carlos and Y/N but they weren't picking up, that was the moment Lando accepted his fate. He had to go through the pain alone. Until a miracle happened. Carlos called back.

"Lando, are you okay?" Carlos asked curious, "No, I feel horrible and I've been throwing up" Lando admitted, "You've been what?" it was Y/N's time to ask Lando questions, "Have you taken any sort of medication? You know what, we'll go to the pharmacy and grocery shop so I can make you soup okay?"

Y/N told Lando the plan she created in seconds because there was no way she would let Lando deal with it by himself. Carlos hung up the phone and followed his wife asking her more questions like 'What do we need?' type of questions.

20 minutes later the couple was in Lando's apartment. Y/N made some soup while Carlos had Lando laying in his lap talking to him on the couch. "Lando you will take this after you eat okay?" Y/N showed him the medicine, "Mhm" he answered with this tired tone to his voice which Carlos or Y/N didn't like.

Lando fell asleep on Carlos' lap, and the couple was now having this genuine conversation. "He's like a few years younger than us but acts like a teenager" Y/N couldn't help but chuckle at the last part, "Oy mi amor, he's our son at this point no?" and Carlos was right "Our firstborn!" Y/N added.

---

Carlos, Y/N decided to take Lando with them for their vacation. They decided to visit New Zealand first, and after that, Carlos and Y/N will be going on a big family vacation to Ibiza.

They went to a restaurant because they got hungry and when they arrived Y/N was ready for this;

"Y/N can you please order for me?" Lando asked politely, "Tell me what you want to eat then". "This pasta and this mixed drink please" Lando pointed at the menu while telling Y/N his order, Carlos just sat back and quietly enjoyed the moment because even though Lando is old enough to be enjoying life on his own, he would rather spend it with the people he idolizes. Carlos and Y/N Sainz.

#f1 x reader #formula one x reader #formula 1 x reader #lando norris x female reader #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #lando norris x reader #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz x you #carlos sainz x female reader #carlos sainz x y/n #f1 x female reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n

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flawless-peach · 1 month

Text

change your life ✨️

feel free to join me in this. I'm going to try to post every day about how I did <3

- get at least 7 consecutive hours of sleep. I've found if I go to sleep and then wake up back for a couple hours and then finish the 8 hours I feel I incredibly unrested. I keep myself accountable by using pokemon sleep which has a great alarm, so I'm looking forward to trying this instead

- read or listen to an audiobook for 30 minutes. literacy is a muscle, and using it is important, but sometimes I can't just sit down and read a book, and audiobooks are great for when I'm cleaning or cooking or folding laundry

- get sun daily. humans are a lot more like plants than you would think and so it is important to get some sun, even when it's a wintery sun that's cold or when it's a blazing furnace. Since I have some mental health issues and am unable to go outside im going to at least open my curtains, and if possible, crack a window to get some fresh air

- start a hobby you can enjoy. this one can be difficult because a lot of things require some sort of financial investment. for me, my hobbies for these six months is going to be writing and annotating books. but being creative is great for the human mind.

- learn to be comfortable alone. honestly this one will be difficult. personally, I live in a studio. privacy is nothing i experience, butthe little moments where you find yourself escaping with TV playing or music pause it and sit with yourself, how else can you learn to love someone if you avoid them 🥰

- meditate daily. this will be something I struggle with so much, but I'm going to try in the mornings since that's my peak time <3 and that's when I plan on doing a yoga flow during the sunrise

- eat healthy nutritious food. I hate cooking and I hate eating. having autism can make these really difficult for me to do, but I'm really really trying. I started the week before last to work on figuring out what snack foods I can prep, and now i just need to work on planning out some meals.

- positive affirmations everyday. I really struggle to have positive self talk because it feels so awkward and uncomfortable because I've been pessimistic for so long, but I want to change that ^^

- reduce screen time. this is going to be specifically targetting mindless scrolling for me. I have a tiktok account that I use for motivation, same with my tumblr account, and I also read on my phone and use my sleep app that I need to keep open at night.

- practice gratitude. my goal is to at night reflect on the day to try and find the good. I already reflect on my days and pick a mood, but I want to create lists of things i am grateful for, especially while I'm in between jobs.

#aesthetic #clean girl #motivation #vanilla girl #photo collection #routine #self care aesthetic #self healing #self improvement #self impowerment #self love #peachy days #that girl

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reiderwriter · 7 months

Text

Let Me Love You, Baby

Chapter 7 of That's What You Get Prev Chap // Next Chap

Warnings: Oral (M and F receiving), nipple play, handcuffing, BDSM themes, dom! Spencer, sub! Reader, breeding kink, creampie, handcuffing, a variety of PinV sex positions, multiple orgasms, squirting mention, mentions of different types of orgasms involving penetrative sex and anal sex. 18+ MINORS DNI Summary: Your memories of your wedding night come back. Not all of them, just the interesting ones.

A/N: If you're enjoying this series please PLEASE let me know in the comments! I've really been loving the theories about who the other witness is and I've changed my mind like three times on who it is eventually going to be BUT I've made up my mind now and I think it's going to be a great reveal lmao. This chapter has been on my mind since I started the series and I'm so happy you can all finally read it, but it is also A Lot of sex because every time I had a thought, I wrote it down and then didn't self-edit lmao. You can find my masterlist here, the series masterlist in the link above, and if you enjoy my smut, think about checking out my kinktober masterlist or my AO3 account for daily spicy content next month! <3

You stumbled, drunk, into the room, not sure in the haze if it was yours or his. The card had passed between you in many hushed giggles through the hall as you eagerly pulled each other forward. Falling onto the bed, you let out a contented sigh as Spencer fell next to you, face first into the sheets with a small laugh.

“I can’t believe we did that!” You grinned, meeting his eyes as he turned his head towards you. “We’re married!”

“We are.” He smiles, and you can’t help but let your eyes fall to his lips, swollen and pink from your earlier enjoyment of one another. You start to laugh, not fully understanding why, but thinking it probably had a lot to do with the alcohol you’d consumed. Bringing a hand up to his face, you let a finger run over the corner of his mouth, wiping away a tiny splash of red you’d deposited earlier.

“Your lips are swollen.”

“Whose fault is that?” He leans in and catches your lips again in his and you squeal at the sudden contact, excited to feel him against you again. He’s soft and gentle at first, but as you gasp underneath him your breaths get shorter, stopping just shy of moans as you let your hands trail up and down his body. But the edge of the bed is uncomfortable, so you push him off, following his lips still as he pushes himself further up, straddling his waist as you let yourself melt into him.

“How did this happen again?” You ask, memory already feeling a little fuzzy, as you think back on the stressful few weeks you’ve had and how much better this feels. How nice it is to have someone underneath you, pressed against you, holding you.

“Is that important right now?” He asks, lips seeking yours again as you turn your head just as he tries to connect, giggling at his pout.

“You know, I always thought getting married would be this whole huge thing. Hundreds of guests, 18 months of stress while planning, you never really know on the day if the man you’re attempting to lock down is actually going to be on the other end of that aisle or if he’s bolted somewhere.” His lips are carving a path down your throat as you talk, memorizing the peaks and falls of every inch of your skin, committing you to memory like a prayer.

“A man would have to be absolutely stupid to leave you at the alter, Y/N.” He says those words that prick your heart so easily, worming his way in, without even breaking his lips away from their spot on your collarbone.

“Then if he didn’t leave, he’d be too drunk to perform on the wedding night, and so the entire day would end up just being a bust anyway.” He smiles into his final kiss, letting it linger against your skin as he pulls away and looks into your eyes.

“How drunk are you, Spencer?” Your voice falls to a hush as you shift your weight in his lap, opening your legs just a smidge wider, shifting forward so more of you is falling over his clothed member, pressing up against him as close as possible.

“You’re talking too much,” he growled out, and, grabbing you by the neck, pulled you into another heated kiss. This one isn’t giggles and soft sighs, it’s a clash of teeth and tongue and desperation, and you suddenly have the answer to your question as you feel him stiffen beneath you. Grinding down into him, you let him take control of your actions, letting him tell you when you can come up for air.

When he finally pulls away from you, you stay connected through a line of saliva stretching from your lolling tongue to his mouth. He breaks it with his thumb, forcing the digit into your mouth as you suck your shared mess from him.

“Definitely not too drunk.”

You couldn’t help yourself then, as you pulled his thumb from your mouth and shifted your body down the bed until your face was parallel to his crotch, beginning to palm him in his trousers.

“If we’re married,” you say, popping the button on his pants open. “We should probably get to know each other's… preferences early on. Stop any future arguments from occurring, right?” You looked up at him through hooded eyes, plastering the most sinful smile you could muster on your face. He stayed quiet, but you felt him twitch underneath your hand, and decided that was response enough.

“You can bite me and scratch me if you want. I like it. Pull my hair, spank me, choke me until I’m begging to cum. I like all of it. You’re in control now, Spencer. You can do whatever you want with me, so long as it ends with your cum down my throat or stuffed inside me.” Finishing your speech, confidence fueled by alcohol and the buzz of your wedding vows, you slip his cock from its cloth prison and take it directly into your mouth.

It’s thicker than you expected, and you just sit with the tip of it in your mouth for a second, trying to find a comfortable position. When you finally do, you push slowly down on it, letting your tongue tease and trace a path down. You don’t make it to the base before you’re pulling off, reaching what you expect to be your max about halfway down. You set a rhythm for yourself, hands pumping the rest of him as you coax the cum from him.

He gives you three minutes of fun before he decides that you need a little help reaching your full potential. Fisting a hand into your hair, and cradling the back of your neck in his other, he stills your motions before pushing you further down his cock, bypassing your gag reflex as your throat battles against the position he’s put you in, your nose tickled against his soft curls.

“Okay, let’s talk preferences. I’d prefer it if you ask permission before you touch something, whether that be me or yourself. I’d prefer if you used a safe word if this all gets a bit much for you. And I’d prefer you to relax that little throat of yours so I can fuck a load of my seed down it baby, okay?” He pulls you up by the hair and you nod, rasping out a yes as you gasp for air.

“Safeword is profile, tap twice if you need air.” And with that, he’s fucking your face again, pushing and pulling you by your hair as your mouth leaks spit. This was going to be a moment you’d never forget, the taste of his precum at the back of your throat, burning its way down.

Shrugging off his pants completely, he keeps at his movements, your head still working over him like you’re simply a fleshlight for his personal use. He grunts and twitches into you, signaling his impending release, and you try to ready yourself for the sting of the liquid hitting the back of your throat. He cums hot and fast, and you swallow around him, but there’s so much, it spills out of your mouth quickly, dripping down your chin and neck.

“Good girl. You listen to instructions well.” He pulls you up to his lap again as he begins undressing you, not bothering to wipe his cum from your mouth.

In a matter of seconds, he has you completely bare for him. Pulling your legs further up, he lets your torso fall back into the bed before shimmying himself down, coming face-to-face with your core.

“You remember the rules?” He asks, and you nod, answering his question.

“No touching, safe word is profile. Is that it?”

“One more thing. You’re not allowed to cum until I say so, okay?” You let out a moan of discontent then, but he shuts you up with a light slap to your face, coming up to press a kiss to your lips before traveling south again.

“Relax for me, baby,” he says as he spreads your legs and stretches out his tongue to finally come in contact with your needy core. His tongue is skilled, and you almost immediately break one of his rules as you arch off the bed, trying your best not to suffocate him between your thighs as you search for ways to heighten this pleasure.

He wastes no time being gentle, just fully eating you out like it was his job to make you cum on his face. His tongue stretched from your clit to your hole, flattening out and writhing in equal amounts as your pleasure built to a frenzy. Your hands gripped into the sheets and you clung to the single thought that maybe a punishment from your new husband wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.

Your hands drift to his hair, gripping tightly as you begin bucking into his mouth, completely lost in your base desires. He quickly grips your hands and pins them to the bed again though, pulling away just before you even think about climaxing against his face.

“Spencer,” you beg, your moans sounding like the sobs of a spoiled child.

“You broke a rule, princess. I can’t just let you get away with that.” You moan at the loss of contact, your voice whinier than you'd ever heard it.

He left the bed entirely then, and you lifted your head up to follow his path to the drawers by the side of the bed. Opening it, he picked up the wedding license you'd discarded on the floor, placing it nearly inside and slowly pulling out a pair of handcuffs. Your standard FBI set, not something light, flimsy, and cushioned with fluff, these were hard and cold against your skin as he returned to the bed.

"Wait, S-Spencer…. Really?" You panicked as he pulled one arm over your head placing it parallel with the headboard, trapped between the slats. He tightened the cuff around your hand, leaving one free as he started kissing down your arm, down to your shoulder and into the hollow of your neck.

"Yes, really. Now since you want to use that other hand so badly, why don't you use it to get yourself off." You swallowed the spit in your mouth, and nodded at him, before doing just as he asked, picking up where his hands had gotten off.

He shifted to sitting just by your side, lifting your body half on top of him, your back pressed up against his chest as he watched over your shoulder as your hand-worked you into a frenzy. Bringing both of his hands around your body, he started playing with your nipples, rolling them between his fingers, pulling and fondling your breasts as your breathing became more labored.

"There are seven different female orgasms, you know. The clitoral orgasm, the G-spot orgasm, the blended orgasm, the anal orgasm, the A-spot orgasm, a purely psychological orgasm, and," he leaned down closer to your ear to finish his sentence. "The nipple orgasm." You struggled against the handcuff as you felt the tightness build in your chest, but he grabbed and held your other hand close to him as he pushed up on top of you again.

"How many do you think you'll get tonight, Y/N?" He asked, lowering his head back to your chest as you bucked your hips wildly, trying to feel him in between your legs.

He pushed down your hips and kept his attention on your chest, your brain going fuzzy with the contact as the orgasm that had been imminent kept growing until you couldn't stop it from rushing over you, chumming with his attention solely on your chest.

"You didn't answer my question?" He brought his head up, frowning slightly as you blinked your eyes open and focused on his shape above you.

"Did you read some kind of sex book, Spencer? Jesus Christ that was…" You couldn't say anything else and he chuckled from above you.

"I didn't read one, I've read multiple, and it's less reading and more committing to absolute memory." He swooped back down to your lips. "Answer the question, how many do you think you'll get tonight?"

"Two?" You ask vaguely, immediately opening your mouth back up to keep rambling. "But Spencer I've never really had more than one with another person and I'm not sure if I even can-"

"You can. You will. You promised to listen to me, remember?" You flushed at his words, choosing simply to just nod for him instead of trusting your tongue to spit out the right words.

"Good girl," he says, wrapping your legs around him, and running his cock through your folds, holding it there as he teased you.

"I don't have to use a condom, right? You want me to drop my load directly into you, right? We're married now, so I can just fuck my seed into you, hmm?" You moaned out, begging for him to just push into you, to keep his promises and pleasure you again and again.

"Hands in the sheets baby, come on, no touching remember?" You did as you were told, and with another kiss to your lips, tongues locking in your battle, he thrust his entire length into you in one movement.

A scream of pleasure ripped out of you, just as quick and fast as you were sure you ripped the sheets of the bed, your sharp nails digging in for dear life as you struggled against the desire to hold him against you.

"That's it, princess. That's it." He starts thrusting, snapping his hips up, and slowly pulling himself out again. For a moment, it was like you weren't breathing at all, his body feeding you everything you needed to sustain yourself. Lungs burning, you gulped in large breaths of him. His tongue swallowed each and every complaint, as he shared in your pleasure.

He wasn't afraid to be vocal, like some men you'd been with in the past, and the sounds of his pleasure echoed out louder than your own. He was moaning in your ear, telling you how beautiful you looked on him as he pounded into you relentlessly. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead as he slapped into you again and again.

His hand came up to your face as he grew closer to his climax, pushing his fingers back into your mouth as he turned your face further against the pillow. Your spit dribbled out of your mouth as you moaned around his fingers, pussy clenching on his dick as you felt your embarrassment rise.

"So pretty and messy," he mumbled, hips keeping his pace up.

"Did you make sure to swallow all of my cum earlier baby? Because if there was any of it left on my cock, I'm fucking it into you. Going to drop another load next to it so you can feel me knock you up."

Unlike your first orgasm, you don't feel this one coming, you just know that he's hitting a spot so deep that it's never been reached before and saying the exact words that are pulling it closer to you, and then you're ecstasy has you squirting around his dick.

"That's right. There you go, baby, lay nice and calm there, I need to keep going."

You were overstimulated, already feeling your desire burn a path through you again. He pulled out though, but made it clear that his intention was just to switch the positions of your bodies.

Making sure not to twist your locked-up arm uncomfortably, he laid on the bed and pulled your fucked out body on top of him. You shivered at his touch and he pulled you further into his embrace warming you up.

Your chest was pressed against his back, your head rolled back on his shoulder as he gently coaxed your legs apart one more time.

"That's it, baby, you're listening so well. Just push your legs apart for me, okay?" You did as he asked, and he pressed your legs further up and apart, grabbing into the flesh of your thighs as he aligned his dick with your aching pussy and pressed into you one more time.

The new angle had you moaning around you, as he encouraged you to start lifting your hips up and down, as he trusted up into you, your eyes rolling back into your head as he hit an electric point inside of you. He grabbed your hand to steady you as you moved to a seated position, letting your heels dig into the bed as you began riding him.

You were so tired that it didn't last long though, your hips stuttering awkwardly.

"It's okay, Y/N, I'll do the rest, you just stay right there." From his place underneath you, he kept your thighs from above him as he thrust into you just as quickly as before, somehow maintaining his stamina despite the edging, the alcohol, and the energy you'd already exerted.

Just as you were really about to lose your mind, he pulled out again, escaping from beneath you and gently laying you back on the bed.

"One more position, princess, and then we can rest. You've been so good for me, you can do this, right? Can let me drop all of my cum inside you?" You nodded another sleepy yes, eyes somewhere between closed and open. There was no strength left in your body to stiffen up as he began moving your now malleable body into position, but that doesn't mean you didn't let out a moan at the way he'd stretched you out.

Pushing your legs apart again, he's settled between them, but instead of letting them wrap around him, he'd kept hold of them, pushing your knees up still until they were on either side of your chest. He kissed away complaints and approvals that didn't come and slowly pushed into you again.

He was evidently close, by the way he was drawing this out now. His fingers found your clit as his cock slowly worked in and out of you, the snap of his hips completely controlled and even in tempo.

"Just keep doing that, Spence, oh my god," you begged, words suddenly returning to you. His fingers on your clit increased in pressure, but his pace otherwise didn't change, and you soon felt that third orgasm ripple through you, finally leaving you with no more to give.

Your last fall from grace had him following you swiftly after, his lips finding yours as he crashed back down on top of you, hips stuttering as he drank you in like wine.

The rest was a blur, really, sleep having claimed you so swiftly that you barely remember the words he had definitely whispered to you as soon as he caught his breath again.

"I love you. It's always been you."

Other than a vague recollection of him rearranging your legs so you wouldn't struggle to walk the next day, and the sensation of a cold, damp cloth on your skin, nothing besides remained.

–X–

It's unfortunate, really, that the memory came to you when you did, his lips on yours heating you up in a way that made you absolutely want to relive every experience he had given you. But paralyzed with shock, you'd had only one recon to choose a reaction, and out of fight, flight, fawn, or freeze, you'd gone for slam the door in his fucking face.

Not your finest moment.

Which is why after two minutes of listening to his confusion on the other side of the hall, your brain kicked back into gear and you started weighing your options.

It would be wrong to open the apartment doors and pull him back in, right? It would certainly be wrong to pull him in and demand a re-do of the first time you'd forgotten. Would he even want to redo doing it with you? And what did he mean when he said "I love you."

It was those words more specifically that scared you. You'd both been absolutely intoxicated when you'd fallen into the wedding chapel together and still remarkably unstable afterward presumably. There was a high likelihood that he hadn't known what he was saying, and taking a risk on a friendship for half a memory and wishful thinking wasn't a great calculation.

But gripping the door handle, you realized your body had made the decision for you, completely overwhelmed by the need to see him again.

When you opened the door, no one was there. Your phone pinged with a text as you looked around disappointedly, not finding him anywhere. Looking down at your phone, you cursed your own stupidity as you read his message.

"Sorry. I won't do that again."

You typed out explanations and deleted them over and over for what seemed like an hour, guilt eating you up.

Eventually, you threw your phone down in resignation, and, grabbing your groceries, started frantically planning your next steps.

Step one: wallow in your own misery.

Step two: crack open the single bottle of red wine in your pantry.

Step three: beg for heavenly guidance.

After the wine was opened, you picked up the phone again and shot off a quick emergency message to Penelope.

"Pen, need help, may have just ruined EVERYTHING with Reid because I remembered our wedding night mid-kiss - long story. Mine, now? Xx"

You couldn't stand to look at your phone after that, putting it on silent and assuming the single time it flashed was confirmation that Penelope was on her way. After half an hour, you sprang from your seat at the sound of the door, making your way back to the scene of your most recent number one embarrassing memory.

Only opening the door to Emily Prentiss, you were sure you'd just dethroned yourself.

"You're going to have to start from the beginning or explain to me that that message had multiple typing errors, because just when did you and Reid get married, and why is it suddenly over now?"

--X--

🏷️ Pt 1 @w-windy @multifandom-on-the-side @reidandhotchsgirl @babybluecakes @hugyourlungs @prentissesredtanktop @reidscaffeine @bethanyhaas01 @average-sunflower @academiareid @sailortongue @daddy-dotcom @high-functioning-cosplayer @anniewhalelover @abbyshmaby @isabel-ffl-xoxo @sujan39 @frxcless @bluestuesday @busy-buzzing @breadbrobin @maxinehufflepuffprincess @l0v3cam @booksandwonderlands @myescapefromthislife @ferrjulie @scoobydoopoo @aelinismyqueen @littlesingingbean @jamiemuscatosslut @xohoneybun @anchovy89freya @dysphoricsanity @ghostheartbeat @casss2111 @rebloggiest-reblogger @wishyoudaskme @imawhoreforu @academiacoffeelover @softservepunk @andiebeaword @r-3dlips @wakaladjarin @ratbastardchild @mcira

@danika1994 @stargurl99 @whovianwholikesgirls @its-not-too-late-for-coffee @doriantomybasil

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid smut #mgg #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid criminal minds #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x oc #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds smut #maturereiding

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the-music-maniac · 4 months

Text

Not that I read mpreg all that often (not really my thing generally speaking) but I came across some "Sanji is pregnant" fics in the sanzo/zosan tag, and not nearly the same amount for Zoro. It got me thinking about the trope. I think the lack of Zoro fics here is a tragic oversight. I think we as a fandom are absolutely and tragically ignoring the potential comedy gold of Zoro being the one to be pregnant instead.

Because when people write Sanji, the general trend I'm seeing (upon scanning through some of the fics quickly) is that he's cautious about it. Conscientious, careful to make sure things are okay. Which - arguably I could see, Sanji is probably the more practical of the two (not by a whole lot but still)and he didn't have a good childhood. Sanji being pregnant is usually a fic about his heaps of parental issues, childhood trauma and angst - which is fun to read. It's good. It's amazing, even.

Zoro being pregnant is ONE HUNDRED PERCENT gonna be a COMEDY. We're talking about a man who once tried to fight Kuina holding like 20 bokkens. We're talking about a man who got stuck in wax and thought the reasonable solution was to cut off his legs.

The entire crew spends the next 9 months tearing their hair out, preventing Zoro from doing stupid shit (exhibit A: cutting off his own limbs). They spend the same amount of time trying to stop Luffy from gum-gum-grabbing Zoro and yeeting him anytime he needs to get them out of a sticky situation.

The crew (mostly Sanji) is on 24/7 prevent-zoro-from-drinking-alcohol duty (impossible). Chopper is constantly stressed in the later months cause no one puts it past Zoro to get lost somewhere, give birth out in the woods and come strolling back with a baby tucked under his arm. They have to start hiding Zoro's dumbbells.

Franky and Usopp design and build a nursery and spends the entire time suspiciously teary eyed. Sanji tries to pretend he's unaffected but spends an entire night creating a 9 month meal plan of all the nutrients Zoro and the baby are gonna need. Not even a day later, one of the crew finds him up at 2 am making a mountain of food because Zoro made the mistake of offhandedly mentioning he had particular pregnancy craving within earshot of Sanji. In the end Zoro has to sit on him to stop Sanji from running himself ragged.

Robin keeps spouting morbid childbirth facts and quotes from parental advice books in equal measure. Nami keeps going on shopping sprees for cute baby clothes and adding the cost of them to Zoro's debt. Brook keeps writing lullabies and trying to sing them to Zoro's stomach. Zoro 100% uses his pregnancy belly as an excuse to walk around without a shirt 24/7 without getting nagged.

Somehow word gets out that the famous pirate hunter Zoro is pregnant, and at the next big fight with the Marines, half the soldiers refuse to fight him and instead start telling him to sit down, take it easy, shouting advice at him etc. Etc. Zoro loses his shit a little bit and cuts their boat in half.

Mihawk, upon finding out, tells Zoro in no uncertain terms that that is his grandchild and he's expecting them to visit so he can meet the baby when they're born. Zoro vehemently denies that Mihawk is his father (he is). Zeff upon finding out, is almost as bad as Sanji when it comes to being a mother hen. Perona buys even more baby clothes for the baby. She buys one singular shirt for Zoro as a joke, and it coincidentally happens to be the exact same brand of "mama" crop top he was forced to wear in that one filler episode. Zoro tries to chuck it into the ocean (he fails).

I'm essentially saying it would be absolute chaos, and it would be the funniest thing I've ever read. 9 months of Marimo wrangling. Can you imagine the look on Zoro's face if one of the opponents he was fighting were to tell him that he's "glowing"?

PLEASE, I would actually wheeze myself to death. The best part is you can still have plenty of Sanji angst. He still has parental issues except now they're flavoured with "I'm not ready to be a father" and "I'm terrified I'm gonna become my biological sperm donor" and "please don't die because of childbirth complications, that happened to my mother(sort of, I know she died after but it kinda counts), and I can't handle that happening again to you". Lots of cute/tender moments of Zoro comforting and reassuring Sanji. We can even have Zoro angst. He probably views protecting his crew as the one and only job he's good for (not true but that's probably what he thinks). Not being able to fulfill that is probably not helping his self esteem, and that sense of uselessness warring with his need to protect the baby - but the contradictory thing here is that to protect the baby he HAS to sit back and let other people do that FOR him. That plus all the other restrictions, people treating him differently, but him at the same time refusing to view his own child as a weakness. Imagine the havoc that would wreak. Oh my god.

Y'all don't understand, I don't even read mpreg that often and yet this is literally my ideal fic HAHAAAAA

#we already know Zoro would be a good parent considering how he is with kids but pregnancy? different matter entirely #i don't know much about jimbei yet so sadly i can't write much about him feel free to comment any headcanons y'all come up with though #zosan #sanzo #zoro x sanji #roronoa zoro #black leg sanji #cat burglar nami #monkey d luffy #nico robin #op franky #op brook #god ussop #tony tony chopper #mpreg

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