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perfectlyvalid49 · 2 months

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On being Jewish, and traumatized (It’s been 5 months and I want to talk):

Judaism is a joyous religion. So much of our daily practice is to focus us on the things that are good. I know that there’s a joke that all our holidays can be summed up as “they tried to kill us. We survived – let’s eat!”, and you might think that holidays focused on attempts at killing us might be somber, but they’re really not. Most are celebrated in the sense of, “we’re still here, let’s have a party!” When I think about practicing Judaism, the things I think about make me happy.

But I think a lot of non-Jews don’t necessarily see Judaism the same way. I think in part it’s because we do like to kvetch, but I think a lot of it is because from the outside it’s harder to see the joy, and very easy to see the long history of suffering that has been enacted on the Jewish people. From the inside, it’s very much, “we’re still here, let’s party” and from the outside it’s, “how many times have they tried to kill you? Why are you celebrating? They tried to KILL YOU!”

And I want to start with that because a lot of the rest of this is going to be negative. And I don’t want people to read it and wonder why I still want to be Jewish. I want to be Jewish because it makes me happy. My problem isn’t with being Jewish, it’s with how Jews are treated.

What I really wanted to write about is being Jewish and the trauma that’s involved with that right now.

First, I want to talk about Israeli Jews. I can’t say much here because I’m not Israeli, nor do I have any close friends or family that are Israeli. But if I’m going to be talking about the trauma Jews are experiencing right now, I can’t not mention the fact that Israeli Jews (and Israelis that aren’t Jewish as well, but that’s not my focus here) are dealing with massive amounts of it right now. It’s a tiny country – virtually everyone has a friend or family member that was killed or kidnapped, or knows someone who does. Thousands of rockets have been fired at Israel in the last few months – think about the fact that the Iron Dome exists and why it needs to. Terror attacks are ongoing; I feel like there’s been at least one every week since October. Thousands of people are displaced from their homes, either because of the rocket fire, or because their homes and communities were physically destroyed in the largest pogrom in recent history – the deadliest single day for Jews since the Holocaust ended. If that’s not trauma inducing, I don’t know what is.

And there is, of course, the generational trauma. And I think Jewish generational trauma is interesting because it’s so layered. Because it’s not just the result of one trauma passed down through the generations. Every 50-100 years, antisemitism intensifies, and so very frequently the people experiencing a traumatic event were already suffering from the generational trauma that their grandparents or great grandparents lived through. And those elders were holding the generational trauma from the time before that. And so on.

And because it happens so regularly, there’s always someone in the community that remembers the last time. We are never allowed the luxury of imagining that we are safe. We know what happened before, and we know that it happened again and again and again. And so we know that it only makes sense to assume it will happen in the future. The trauma response is valid. I live in America because my great grandparents lived in Russia and they knew when it was time to get the hell out in the 1900s. And the reason they knew that is because their grandparents remembered the results of the blood libels in the 1850s. How can we heal when the scar tissue keeps us safe?

I look around now and wonder if we’ll need to run. We have a plan. I repeat, my family has a plan for what to do if we need to flee the country due to religious persecution. How can that possibly be normal? And yet, all the Jewish families I know have similar plans. It is normal if you’re Jewish. Every once in a while I see someone who isn’t Jewish talk about making plans to leave because they’re LGBTQ or some other minority and the question always seems to be, “should I make a plan?” It astounds me every time. The Jewish answer is that you need to have a plan and the only question is, “when should I act?” Sometimes our Jewish friends discuss it at play dates. Where will you go? What are the triggers to leave? No one wants to go any earlier then they have to. Everyone knows what the price of holding off too long might be.

I want to keep my children safe. When do I induct them into the club? When do I let my sweet, innocent kids know that some people will hate them for being Jewish? When do I teach them the skills my parents and grandparents taught me? How to pass as white, how to pass as Christian, knowing when to keep your mouth shut about what you believe. When do I tell them about the Holocaust and teach them the game “would this person hide me?” How hard do I have to work to remind them that while you want to believe that a person would hide you, statistically, most people you know would not have? Who is this more traumatic for? Them, to learn that there is hatred in the world and it is directed at them, or me, to have to drive some of the innocence out of my own children’s eyes in order to make sure they are prepared to meet the reality of the world?

And the reality of the world is that it is FULL of antisemitism. There’s a lot of…I guess I’d call it mild antisemitism that’s always present that you just kinda learn to ignore. It’s the sort of stuff that non-Jews might not even recognize as antisemitic until you explain it to them, just little micro-aggressions that you do your best to ignore because you know that the people doing it don’t necessarily mean it, it’s just the culture we live in. It can still hurt though. I like to compare it to a bruise: you can mostly ignore it, but every once in a while something (more blatant antisemitism) will put a bit to much pressure on it and you remember that you were already hurting this whole time.

On top of the background antisemitism, there’s more intense stuff. And usually the most intense, mask off antisemitism comes from the right. This makes sense, in that a lot of right politics are essentially about hating the “other” and what are Jews if not Western civilizations oldest type of “other”? On the one hand, I’ve always been fortunate enough to live in relatively liberal areas so this sort of antisemitism has felt far away and impersonal – they hate everybody, and I’m just part of everybody. On the other hand, until recently I’ve always considered this the most dangerous source of antisemitism. This is the antisemitism that leads to hate crimes, that leads to synagogue shootings. This is the reason why my synagogue is built so that there is a long driveway before you can even see the building, and that driveway is filled with police on the high holidays. This is the reason why my husband and I were scared to hang a mezuzah in our first apartment (and second, and third). For a long time, this was the antisemitism that made me afraid.

But the left has a problem with antisemitism too. And it has always been there. Where the right hates the “other”, the left hates the “privileged/elite/oppressors.” It’s the exact same thing, just dressed up with different words. They all mean “other” and “other” means “Jew.” It hurts more coming from the left though. A lot of Jewish philosophy leans left. A lot of Jews lean left. So when the left decides to hate us, it isn’t a random stranger, it’s a friend, and it feels like a betrayal.

One of the people I follow works for Yad Vashem, and a few weeks ago she mentioned a video they have with testimonies from people who came to Israel after Kristallnacht, with an unofficial title of “The blow came from within.” The idea is that to non-German Jews, the Holocaust was something done by strangers. It was still terrible, but it is easier to bear the hate of a stranger – it’s not personal. But to German Jews, the Holocaust was a betrayal. It wasn’t done by strangers, it was done by coworkers, and neighbors and people they thought were friends. It was done by people who knew them, and still looked at them and said, “less than human.” And because of this sense of betrayal, German survivors, or Germans who managed to get out before they got rounded up, had a very different experience than other Holocaust victims.

And I feel like a lot of left leaning Jews are having a similar experience now. People that we’ve marched with or organized with, or even just mutuals that we’ve thought of as friends are now going on about how Jews are evil. They repeat antisemitic talking points from the Nazis and from the Protocols of the Elders of Zion, and when we point out that those ideas have only led to Jewish death in the past they don’t care. And if someone you thought of as a friend thinks of you this way, what do you think a stranger might think? Might do?

The Jews are fucking terrified. I’ve seen a post going around that basically wonders if this was what it was like for our ancestors – when things got bad enough to see what was coming but before it was too late to run? And we can see what’s coming. History tells us that they way people are talking and acting only leads to one place. I’m a millennial – when I was a kid the grandparents at my synagogue made sure the kids knew – this is what it looked like before, this is what you need to watch out for, this is when you need to run. I wonder where to run to. It feels like nowhere is safe.

I feel like I’ve been lucky in all this. I don’t live in Israel. I have family and acquaintances who do, but no one I’m particularly close to. Everyone I know in real life has either been sane or at least silent about all of this (the internet has been significantly worse, but when it comes to hate, the internet is always worse). I live in a relatively liberal area – there’s always been antisemitism around anyway, but it’s mostly just been swastikas on flyers, or people advocating for BDS, not anything that’s made me actually worry for my safety. But in the last 5 months there have been bomb threats at my synagogue, and just last week a kid got beat up for being Jewish at our local high school. He doesn’t want to report it. He’s worried it will make it worse.

I bought a Magen David to wear in November. At the time it seemed like the best way to fight antisemitism was to be visibly Jewish, to show that we’re just normal people like everyone else. Plus, I figured that if me being Jewish was going to be a problem for someone, then I would make it a problem right away and not waste time. I’ve worn it almost constantly since, but the one time I took it off was when I burnt my finger in December and had to go to urgent care. I didn’t think about it too much when I did it, but I thought about it for a long time after – I didn’t feel good about having made that choice.

The conclusion I came to is that the training that my elders had been so careful to instill in me kicked in. I was hurt, and scared, and the voice inside my head that sounds like my grandmother said, “don’t give them a reason to be bad to you. Fight when you’re well, but for now – survive.” It still felt cowardly, but it was also a connection to my ancestors who heeded the same voice well enough to survive. And it enrages me that that voice has been necessary in the past. And it enrages me that things are bad enough now that my instinct is that I need to hide who I am to receive appropriate medical care.

I wish I had some sort of final thought to tie this all together other than, “this sucks and I hate it,” but I really don’t. I could call for people to examine their antisemitic biases, but I’m not foolish enough to think that this will reach the people who need to do so. I could wish for a future where everything I’ve talked about here exists only in history books, and the Jewish experience is no longer tied to feeling this pain, but that’s basically wishing for the moshiach, and I’m not going to hold my breath.

I guess I’ll end it with the thought that through all of this hate and pain and fear, we’re still here. And we’re still joyful as well. As much as so many people have tried over literally THOUSANDS of years to eradicate us, I’m still here, I’m still Jewish, and being Jewish still makes me happy.

Am Yisrael Chai.

#antisemitism #judaism #venting #jumblr #long post #I'm not kidding it's like 2300 words #and it's a rambling mess #but i needed to vent #so help me god #if you show up in the notes and are being antisemitic I WILL find you and I WILL bite you

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justauthoring · 8 days

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jerk [2].

because bakugou katsuki is a jerk but he's also unfortunately your soulmate.

a/n: the LARGELY requested part two! honestly, i'd be willing to write more parts if people wanted :) this part ended up being more about the girls and y/ns friendship but i couldn't help myself - if you guys want some fluff with bakugou for future parts, just let me know!

pairing: bakugou katsuki x f!reader

part one.

“You’re hiding something from us.”

There’s a beat of silence, then another, then another and when finally, you realize you should say something, you blink, sputtering out a barely believable; “no i’m not.”

Mina and Jirou glance at each other, then behind them at the rest of the girls, and you feel a layer of sweat build up when you realize all of your female classmates are here, surrounding you, demanding an answer. And you’ve never really been all that good at lying before, it’s how Bakugou was able to figure out the whole “i’m your soulmate thing” rather quickly and it had only taken him as long as it had because, well, it was Bakugou.

So, to put it bluntly, you’re screwed.

“Come on, Y/N,” Mina laughs, “that wasn’t even remotely believable.”

You know it’s written across your face, your eyes wide and your lips parted and you’re sure you look like quite the picture in that moment surrounded by every single female student in your class, a group of girls you considered your friends but were feeling considerably more like your interrogators in that moment.

But you have to at least try.

“I’m not hiding anything,” you repeat, this time taking special care to make sure your voice is even and somewhat believable. “I’m just… tired. It’s been throwing my balance off. Sorry guys.”

You really are because you have been weird recently and you were hiding things (even if you were desperate for them not to know that) so the sincerity was there and it seems to be enough because they all glance at each other, frowning, and you can literally see the determination fade as Momo speaks up first.

“You have been leaving to train a lot,” she agrees with a solemn nod. “It’s no wonder you’re so tired. But you should still try to get some rest, don’t push yourself so hard.”

You let out a breath of relief, trying not to let it show as some of the girls shuffle back to walk away, until—

“Wait, that reminds me!”

It’s Jirou who calls it out and you feel yourself freeze.

“She hasn’t been training!”

Eyes widening, you turn to look at Jirou. She’s grinning your way, her figure pointed in your direction, clearly pleased she’d caught you in your lie.

“Jirou,” Uraraka calls out, confused. “What are you–”

“Two nights ago when she left to go training, I followed her, thinking we could train together… she wasn’t there.”

They gasp. Literally gasp.

“Now that you mention it,” Froppy nods, finger held to her chin in thought. “I haven’t actually seen her in the gym very often… nor does she look particularly like a person who’s just trained when she comes back.”

Their eyes fall on you and you take a step back.

“Y/N—”

And then you just run.

“I can’t believe she just ran!”

“I know!”

“Guys, I’m sure she had her reasons.”

“Who?”

Mina’s lips are left parted at the sound of Kirishima’s voice, all the girls turning to face him in the living room where he’s sat with the rest of the class.

“Y/N,” Mina explains with a huff, falling into the couch dramatically. “She’s been ditching us constantly and always leaving right after we return from class with some excuse. When we tried to ask her about it today, she lied and then when we caught on to her lie, she ran! Literally just bolting down the hallway before we could even blink.”

Kirishima frowns, glancing over to Denki on his left.

“That doesn’t sound like Y/N,” Deku calls out from across the room, head tilted in curiosity. “Especially to lie to you guys.”

“I know!” Mina calls out, throwing her hands up in exasperation.

“Like I said,” Uraraka speaks up, trying to remain calm. “I’m sure she has her reasons. Maybe something’s wrong…”

“You think she could be in danger?” Shoto asks, quirking a brow.

Uraraka shrugs; “I don’t know… I hope not.”

Everyone falls silent, worried expressions plastered on their faces.

“Wait, Kirishima… bro.” Denki calls, reaching to shake Kirishima aggressively, to which the red-haired boy swats his hands away, shaking his head.

“What?”

“Hasn’t Bakubro been disappearing a lot too?”

All the girls straighten out.

Kirishima just shakes his head; “Bakugou is always disappearing. You know he doesn’t like hanging with us a lot.”

“No, Denki’s right,” Sero nods, “even if he isn’t hanging with us, he’s usually in his room or in the gym. Recently, he just completely disappears.”

“I guess you’re right…” Kirishima frowns.

“Wait,” Jirou calls out, “what are you saying? That Bakugou is disappearing with Y/N?”

“That’s crazy,” Mina brushes off. “I’ve never even seen the two talk to each other unless they’re forced to–wait.”

Everyone's eyes snap to hers, wide.

“What?”

“You don’t think… no. It’s not possible.”

“Oh my god,” Denki cries out suddenly, leaning forward with a manic look in his eyes. “Bakubro is hurting Y/N!”

“Wait–”

“No way!” Kirishima calls out, turning to Denki. “Bakugou is a lot of things, but he would never hurt somebody intentionally. Especially not a girl. That’s not manly. Right, Midoriya?”

“Right,” Deku nods confidently, before pausing; “I think?”

“Hey!”

“Guys, no!” Mina cuts in, shaking her hands widely before her. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Okay…” Momo nods, “then what?”

She leans in, pausing for dramatic effect. “He could be… her soulmate!”

There’s silence, then, “no way.”

Mina’s face falls; “why not?”

“Bakugou? Having a soulmate?” Jirou snorts, “I doubt that.”

“Everybody has one!”

“Okay, the odds of him actually caring about his soulmate are slim to none,” Froppy offers in response.

“Yeah,” Deku nods, “I've never once seen Kacchan show interest in his soulmate like… ever.”

Kirishima shakes his head; “even I have to admit that’s so not manly.”

Everyone shuffles around agreements but Mina is quick to argue; “have any of you guys ever seen Bakugou’s soulmate mark?” Slowly, one by one, all glancing at each other, the guys shake their heads. Mina then turns to the girls. “Okay, have any of you ever seen Y/N’s? Cause she’s never shown or told me.”

The girls all shake their heads.

“So how can you really know?” Mina raises a brow, “I mean, Y/N is always so secretive about her mark. She refuses to tell me.”

“Bakugou, we have—”

“Katsuki.”

Coming to a sharp halt, lips left parted, you blink up at Bakugou.

With a grin, Bakugou gently shuts your mouth with a hand to your jaw, laughing lightly; “say Katsuki. That’s my name.”

You can feel your cheeks warm, profusely, and a burst of heat flood through you as you pull yourself from his touch, avoiding his gaze. “Katsuki,” you oblige with a huff and a pout. “We have a problem.”

“Yes?” Bakugou asks, raising a brow your way as he lowers the weight’s he’d been lifting.

“The girls are onto us!”

Bakugou just stares down at you. “What does that mean?”

Exasperated at his obliviousness, you huff, stretching your hands out before you for emphasis as you stare up at him, wide-eyed. “They know I’ve been disappearing after class a lot. I tried to tell them I was training, which I guess we usually are but Jirou caught on to that being a lie too and now they’re onto us!”

Bakugou just blinks. “But what do you mean onto us?”

You let out a cry; “Katsuki! They’re gonna know we’re soulmates!”

“So?”

Pressing a hand to your face, you can’t believe your situation. Not only were the girls onto you, they knew you were lying, which made you feel awful and if they found out that you’d been spending all your time with Bakugou… well that was bound to bring up more questions. Questions you wouldn’t be able to avoid. Questions that would ultimately lead to them finding out Bakugou was your soulmate.

A hand gently reaches for your wrists, pulling your hands away from your face as Bakugou crouches to meet your eyes directly.

“Why is it such a big deal?” He asks gently, an odd tone that you’re still not used to hearing from Bakugou yet. His face remains neutral but there’s patience lingering in his eyes as he waits for you to explain why you’re so upset.

And you do. Your lips part and the words are at the tip of your tongue until, suddenly, you can’t say anything.

Nothing leaves your lips.

“Y/N?”

“I…—”

“You don’t want them to know?”

Blinking, you bite your lip. “It’s not that, it’s just…” But again, you can’t find the words.

“You don’t trust them?”

“Of course I do,” you argue instantly, “they’re my best friends.”

“Okay…” he says slowly, and then his face twists, “are you… embarrassed of me?”

Meeting his gaze, you frown. “...No,” you whisper, and you mean the words.

“Then what’s the problem?”

“I…” Shoulders falling, you frown. “Nothing… I guess.”

“So,” he says, “let them find out!”

Sputtering, you lean back; “it’s not like you’ve told Kirishima or any of the other guys!”

“It’s none of their business,” Bakugou shrugs, letting go of your wrists to set his hand on your head. “But if it makes you feel better, I'll tell them.”

You find yourself silent with disbelief once again, Bakugou’s words echoing in your mind paired with the look in his eyes. Just staring down at you.

Looking at you.

Like you’re his whole world.

“I’m sorry.”

They blink at you.

“I’m sorry about running away yesterday.”

Another blink.

“And I'm sorry I’ve been lying to you guys for the past few weeks.”

Slowly, all the girls glance at each other, trying to gauge the situation, before Uraraka is the first to speak up.

“It’s okay,” she assures with a smile, setting her hand on your shoulder and giving it a gentle squeeze. “We appreciate you apologizing. We were just worried.”

“We wanna make sure you’re okay,” Jirou adds, smiling shyly at you.

You take a look at all of their faces, seeing the sincerity staring back at you, before settling on Mina who still has a hint of hurt in her eyes but there’s also hope.

Well, here goes nothing.

“Bakugou’s my soulmate.”

Silence echoes, once again, before.

“What?”

“I knew it!”

“Bakugou!?”

There’s a mix of words, gasps of disbelief and shouts of question thrown out at you as all the girls rush towards you, swarming you, desperate for answers.

You laugh a little at their reaction, and that catches their attention.

“Y/N?” Mina asks, confused.

“I’ve been sneaking off to see him,” you explain to her, meeting her gaze, before letting your gaze drift. “I didn’t say anything because I’m still adjusting to it myself and I still don’t know how to feel about it. But I realized it isn’t fair to lie to you guys like that and that I want you guys to know because you matter so much to me.”

“Y/N…” Uraraka mumbles, tears welling in her eyes.

Her expression mimics many of the other girls before suddenly there’s a body slamming against your own, arms wrapping tightly around your waist as you stumble back, trying to catch your footing.

“Oh. My. God!” Mina screams, you wincing at the sheer volume, as she pulls back, grinning brightly at you. “You have to tell us everything!”

The next morning, you’re sitting at the island in the kitchen eating breakfast, chatting to Mina, Jirou and Kirishima. The rest of the students trickle by, some making breakfast, some in the living room, all in their own conversations, until suddenly it all stops.

It takes you a moment to realize Kirishima, Mina and Jirou are no longer listening to you, head turned to their right and following their gaze, curious, you blink when you realize it’s Bakugou they’re staring at. It’s not like he’s doing anything particularly odd, nothing except for the fact that his gaze is directed on you and he’s heading straight for you and then suddenly, he’s right in front of you.

His gaze drifts from you, to your plate, back to you; “who made you that?”

“Nobody,” you say slowly, still stunned. “I made it.”

He’s grabbing the plate before you can say anything else, pressing a kiss to your forehead that has your cheeks burning before turning and making his way to the fridge.

“I’ll make you something better,” is all he says in explanation.

Your gaze slowly drifts from him to Mina and Jirou who are grinning widely at you, before there’s the shout of;

“Did Bakubro just kiss Y/N?!”

“And offer to make her breakfast!”

“Wait,” Kirishima suddenly calls after Sero and Denki, turning to Mina and Jirou, “why are two grinning!?”

“All the girls are!” Deku exclaims, pointing at Uraraka and Froppy in front of him.

“You guys knew?”

“Of course,” Mina grins, sending a wink Kirishima’s way before shrugging. “Isn’t that right, Bakugou? You and Y/N are soulmates!”

Everyone expects him to ignore her or tell her to shut up, but instead, he pauses in what he’d been doing (cracking an egg for you), turning his head over his shoulders to meet your gaze before smirking.

“That’s right.”

And chaos follows.

Utter and complete chaos.

#mha #mha x reader #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #bakugou katsuki #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou x reader

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fromgoy2joy · 4 months

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I have been… biting my tongue from saying things.

Partially because I’m not “really Jewish” (on the way to it via conversion), and because I didn’t want this blog to be political.

But I realize I want this page to be a safe space. If anyone takes issue with what I’m about to say, I don’t want them on this page.

I joined the college jewish community very shortly after 10/7 and was immediately welcomed in. There was no separation between me and the girl who had gone to orthodox shul all her life and was the head of the state youth group. I was told explicitly “you are one of us. And together, we are mourning. We have lost our people and so have you.”

Still I felt no authority to speak on things as insidious as antisemitism until recently. But how many times do you have to experience an antisemitic incident until you get to stand up?

Six. The answer is six.

Since explicitly aligning myself with Jewishness, I have lost friends who told me I have “dual loyalties” in so many words. I’ve been ostracized in events because we were singled out . I’ve been followed back to my dorm room from events by people hurling genocide accusations at me- white girls wearing keffiyahs who don't know anything about the Nakba when I try to connect with them about how awful it was.

My face was used in a local “fight jew hate” campaign” where I’m in a group of people with clearly middle eastern descent. But what circulated around my campus was my blonde hair and blue eyes, with people using laughing emojis.

“This is who we’re supposed to be defending!? Bitch please! 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣”

(Which is perfectly ironic because they singled out the person who wasn't ethnically Jewish and focused on her. )

Campus security and the disciplinary office knows me quite well from all the reports I've filed whether for me or other people.

I leave campus for breaks. Even though I’m returning to my highly Catholic conservative family, I breathe a sigh of relief. I don't have to look over my shoulder constantly or check myself in the surroundings I'm in. I already feel the dread about returning in January.

What hurts is the blindness- the lack of nuance- that is being given. Every single Jewish person at my school is not a self described zionist, other than that they acknowledge Jewish indignity to the land, and that there was a reason for the creation of Israel- not even justification in the current state or the matter it came about.

But they- and we- shouldn't have to prove ourselves. We shouldn't be debating if we should fundraise for Gazans (we are) in case someone accuses us of "lying about our intentions" or if we'd be pointed out as "the good jews!" They shouldn't have to have a tab open on their computer for Israeli passports, even though they desperately don't want to leave the United States. I shouldn't have to wonder whenever I'm at a synagogue "If I get killed here in a terrorist attack before being immersed in the mikvah, will I get a Catholic or Jewish funeral?"

But that never mattered. Our voices never did. Unless the antisemitism came from a high school dropout neo-nazi with a shaved head and swastika jacket, it's never going to matter.

I will never forget- even as I advocate for Palestinians, call for a ceasefire, and donate. Or any other cause where I'll be marching besides these activists I can never call well meaning.

I could go on and on about it. But I won't be able to write it out in this post.

All I know is when the counsel of rabbis ask me if I'm ready to be apart of an unpopular group, I'm going to have to fight myself from laughing at the question

#jumblr #jewish #antisemitism #tw antisemtism #jewblr #jewish convert #jewish culture #fromgoy2joy thoughts

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munariplans · 4 months

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Hiii thank you for updating on your recent story! I enjoyed it!!💓 could I request Natasha x reader in a situationship & there’s a avengers wedding and they both get invited separately only for reader to see Nat in a different way and suddenly realised they had feelings all this time for her 🥹

the arrangement | natasha romanoff

synopsis: based on the request above!

natasha romanoff x reader

word count: 5.6k words

a/n: i really do have a fondness for writing pining and angst, enjoy hehehehe

masterlist

in a rare instance in the years you’ve known natasha, it was her that awoke first that morning, shaking you awake as yelena pounded on the door to her room.

“hey, hey,” natasha whispered-yelled, prompting you to get up while opening your eyes blearily, “you have to go. yelena’s here.”

yawning, you gave her an “OK” signal as you gathered your surroundings. you had once again fallen asleep in her room after last night. gathering your clothes and fixing your hair then, you spared a look at her mirror first before leaving, and what you saw almost made you want to laugh out loud.

“how the fuck did you manage to cover me in this many hickeys?”

natasha turned to you, halfway through freshening herself up as well. the redness in her cheeks grew prominent as she saw the many purple and red bruises littering all around your neck. cursing, she threw you a turtleneck from her wardrobe and pointed at the window. yelena was asking her why she was taking so long now.

but just before you climbed out, she thought about it, and risked it for a few more seconds, before pulling you in to press a kiss to your lips. “that girl that was hitting you up at the party last night was being annoying. had to show her you weren’t interested.”

you grinned, shaking your head at her ridiculousness.

and right as you shut the window and slipped out, yelena barged in and threw her several wedding dress options onto natasha’s bed, demanding for her sister to decide which one looked best. but natasha hated to admit she was still distracted from the way your ass swayed right as you sultrily sneaked out of her window.

–

later that same afternoon, you were walking with your friend, accompanying him ring-shopping, when the question first came up.

“aren’t you ever interested in marriage? or, at the very least, finding a partner?” he half-joked. everyone knew you had been single for a while now. “we’re not so young anymore, you know.”

in response, you shrugged. “i don’t see a point.”

“in loving someone?”

“in being with someone, at all. the domesticity, the mundaneness, it’s all so…boring, after a while. i don’t see why you, and so many others, would want to be tied down by all of that, forever.”

“...so you don’t see a forever?”

“right now, with just one person, i don’t,” you said, your eyes drifting off to the street across, where a girl in braids of red hair reminded you of a certain someone you had begun sleeping with in the past few months.

–

you called natasha on the way home, asking if she had company for the night, and if not, whether she wanted yours.

she replied that she was frustrated, and that yelena was being a bitch about her wedding planning. natasha had insisted that a band would have been a better musical accompaniment, yelena had wanted to allow tony and clint to get drunk enough to sing for her.

you came to yelena’s rescue, apparently. because right as you arrived right back at natasha’s apartment, where the two women were clearly at each other’s throats and yelena had literally picked up a butter knife to threaten her sister, you caught natasha from lunging at her and wiping the stupid smirk off her face entirely. she thrashed in your arms, but with a few reassuring words and a promise to let yelena have a taste of her own medicine later, she relented.

“can you believe how stupid she is sounding? wanting the drunkards to sing for her?!” natasha pointed out then, to which yelena took offence once more.

“i’m sorry i want my wedding to be fun!” she screamed, “you can’t help it if god made your sister boring!”

“why, you–”

you held natasha firmer by your side, at the feeling of her nearly jumping to strangle her sister. “–natasha, enough. let it go.”

“she was being–”

“–it’s her choice, her wedding. let it go, will you? we can discuss this another time, when you two are less…riled up,” then, you leaned in closer, and whispered, “if you behave now, i’ll let you try fucking me against the glass of that window you like seeing me escape out of so much later.”

her breath hitched, you knew you had struck a deal with natasha. she backed off, and even stopped herself from retaliating at yelena’s middle finger and stuck-out tongue.

but when yelena had left for the day and the two of you were alone, natasha found herself being strapped to the passenger seat of your car, as you drove her to her favourite ice cream parlour nearby.

a pout on her face, natasha asked as you parked, “i thought we were going to have sex after she left.”

you nodded understandingly. “we are, but i think i need to cool you down with ice cream first. i don’t want to get myself injured from your wrath with yelena earlier.”

the truth had been because you thought natasha needed a space to calm down and process her feelings first, and not to bottle it up and shove it away from sex. plus, you thought that the treat would cheer her up a little as well, putting aside how hot you found angry sex was with natasha.

of course, with your little quip, you could only expect natasha elbowing you as hard as she could, as you laughed and opened the door for her to the parlour.

–

“they have a new flavour here,” natasha pointed against the display, “apple pie.”

“you won’t like it.” you thought about natasha’s preferences for ice cream, and while they were boring, they were safe. “they have your usual today.”

but she took it as a challenge, apparently. “i’m going to try it.”

and as the cashier took both your orders, natasha noticed you place an order for her usual flavour. while it was odd that you would deviate from anything even remotely far from cookies and cream, she chose not to speak of it.

you watched as natasha took her seat in front of you, then taking one bite of her apple pie scoop, before her face morphed into one of doubt, then slight discomfort, and finally, disgust. still, she tried to hide it from you, putting on a straight face as you asked her how it tasted.

“fine,” she said, but her disdain said otherwise.

in response, you smirked, offering her a bite of your own scoop. she was persistent in not wanting to at first, but as you offered her again, she took a bite, then another, and another, and oh well by that point you had given her your entire scoop and taken hers away from her.

you tasted the apple pie scoop. it had cinnamon, something natasha clearly disliked. there was no wonder, you thought, smiling to yourself as you watched her finish the last of her usual order of vanilla with chocolate sprinkles.

–

you were at the bachelor’s party of yelena’s fiancé when natasha’s call came in. she had dropped you a string of drunk texts that night, a product of her own consequences from attending yelena’s bachelorette party.

“hello, natty?” you answered, moving away from the noisy atmosphere of the club to a secluded side. you caught the groom giving you a confused look, you gestured that it was natasha on the line, and he gave you a weird smirk.

“hellooo,” she drunkenly slurred. in the background, you could hear yelena asking for more shots. “my lovely, lovely, friend. where–are–you? i want to go home nowww…”

you moved further away from the club, bringing your phone closer to your ear. “i’ll come pick you up. are you sober enough to text me the address?”

just then, the phone was brought to maria’s side, and you could hear her shrieking for natasha to let you enjoy the party, and that there were designated drivers to bring her home if she needed to. natasha yelled back that she wanted you to come pick her up.

you got the address from the groom, as he and the other people in the party boo-ed you for leaving so soon. you still had a line of shots to finish and a karaoke match that you would be missing, but you had already picked up your jacket and began finding your car keys to pick up natasha then.

when you found her, she was slumped over the bar counter, in a conversation with the bartender, who was clearly wanting to serve the other customers to earn his keep. you approached, and natasha immediately went to your side as she hung off of you, smiling from ear to ear. her smile made your own lips turn up in amusement.

“are you the one she’s been talking my head off all night?” the bartender asked, and you chuckled.

“i guess so,” you thanked him for taking care of her, and left the bar after saying a round of goodbyes to the people in yelena’s party as well.

–

you helped natasha to the passenger seat of the car, but right as you reached over her body to help fasten her seatbelt, her hand caught your wrist, forcing you to look up at her.

her eyes met yours, and in a clear split second of momentary sobriety, you saw sincerity in them. she whispered, “you’re so pretty, i think i might be in love with you.”

you couldn’t help the laughter that bubbled in your throat, as your first reaction was to snicker, then look away from her. then, when you heard her groan behind you, the snickers became full-blown chuckles as you laughed in her face at the drunken confession. “oh, i have so much blackmail material against you when you’re drunk.”

natasha hit you frustratedly as you returned to the driver’s seat, but you caught her hand as you continued, “you’re drunk, natasha. you’re saying things you don’t mean.”

you helped her out of the car again as you reached her apartment, her leaning her body on yours as she stumbled finding her way through the building. using the extra set of keys she had given you, you unlocked the door and set her down on her sofa.

guiding her to her bedroom, you felt natasha’s hands then start travelling up and down your body, and while in any normal circumstance you would have indulged her, and perhaps initiated more, you knew she was drunk. you weren’t going to be the asshole who took advantage of their friend, with benefits, when it was unclear even to her what she was doing.

you removed her hands, and let her lie down on the bed. she pouted. “do you not want me?”

she saw you disappear into her bathroom for a minute, before returning with her toiletries. “i do. you know i always do. just not when you’re drunk.”

“but i want youuu,” she slurred, “and i’m so horny nowww.”

you smirked, but still refused. instead, you rested on top of her, slowly removing her false eyelashes, then wiping off her makeup, and finally helping her carefully wash her face. she sighed at the gentle massage and warm water. “you know, anyone else would have said yes. anyone else would have been dying for natasha romanoff, me, to sleep with them like this.”

“but i’m not anyone else, aren’t i?” you quipped, taking off her clothes and rejecting yet another advancement for her to take yours off as well. you went to her dresser to find her pyjamas.

natasha rolled her eyes, turning her body away from you as you dressed her up again in protest. you smiled to yourself at her cuteness, tucking her in and pressing a kiss on her forehead. “tomorrow, when you’re sober and still up for it, call me. i’ll be here right away.”

she watched you place a strip of advil and a glass of water for her hangover tomorrow, before gathering your things again. “...you’re not going to stay? where are you going?”

drunk natasha really was clingy natasha, you thought. “i have another hookup i need to get to. need to make the most of my nights, you know?”

in truth, you didn’t want to overstep any boundaries you and natasha had set up for yourselves when you first got into this…arrangement. she was clear on not wanting any feelings to be involved, and with how things were turning out tonight, you were afraid that if you stayed, there would be a blurring of some lines from her end on her feelings; lines that she would reenforce the morning after even more strictly. and while you didn’t generally have a problem with that, you had felt that you had gotten natasha to lower her walls down enough to enjoy your company beyond your flings; you didn’t want to risk all that just for a night where she could possibly tell you her drunken feelings about you. you treasured your friendship too much for that.

and so you left, leaving natasha slightly stung and hurt with the implication that you had someone else, or a lot of someone elses, waiting for you if she wasn’t sleeping with you, and strangely, it affected her more than she thought it would, even drunk as she was. watching you leave, she thought selfishly about how she hadn’t slept with anyone since she began sleeping with you, so was it only fair that you had the decency not to as well?

but you and her were just friends, she had to remind herself. it was not like she had power to dictate who you were seeing, and who you slept with, anyway. it was not like you two were exclusive, or in a relationship at all, which was precisely what natasha hadn’t wanted at the start. now, she was wondering why she even uttered those words at all.

little did she know, you were doing nothing of the sort. instead, you had gone straight home, put up a romantic comedy on the TV, heated yourself some leftovers, and sighed as you pondered over your own early end to the night.

–

everyone who knew you and natasha, knew however, that whatever relationship you two had, was more than just friends. that the two of you had crossed the line of just friends about twenty late-night hookups and rendezvouses ago, no matter what either of you claimed about the other.

it was clear in the way you cared for natasha more than any other friend you had, it was clear in the way natasha sought out for you more than she even initiated a conversation with anyone else.

which was what made it so incredulous; that you would allow anyone else try to court natasha before you did.

everyone had warned bucky that what you and natasha shared was more than just a surface friendship, and relations ran deeper than what he thought was possible. but still, it didn’t stop him from taking your own words against yourself, and confronting you about it one day.

“you’re just friends, right?” he asked haughtily, interrupting you as you were helping yelena sort out the final touches to her wedding venue arrangement. you dismissed him with a quick grunt and agreement.

but he followed you. “then you wouldn’t mind helping me get to know her, would you? or better, helping her fall for me?”

you paused in that moment, yelena, overhearing the conversation, consequently giving him a weird look as well. surely not, she thought, turning her attention to you, but you seemed to contemplate his request.

and she nearly choked in disbelief, when surprisingly, you agreed to help him out in chasing natasha.

you shared with him that natasha’s birthday was approaching, and when he asked what kind of gifts she would like, you wanted to say something small, heartfelt. but then you realised it was probably only in your case she would like it so. from anyone else, you thought she deserved the world.

“something big, extravagant,” you told bucky, “natasha deserves only the best, you see.”

he happily lapped up any information you gave him about natasha, the person who knew her best.

and when her birthday did arrive, you watched by the sidelines as bucky shyly presented his gift to her, an outlandish, extravagant display of just his infatuation for the woman. everyone had thought it was well-thought out, very well suited to what she liked, and you patted yourself on the back at the comments. it was you, after all, who had accompanied bucky to get her gift.

natasha looked flustered, admittedly, at the surprise of someone knowing what she wanted so well. it wasn’t everyday that she told the people around her what she wanted for her birthday, after all. and to think about it, she had only told you, of her wishlist upon her birthday.

when she found a moment with you alone that night, as the party winded down and everyone began to leave, she was interrupted by bucky hanging around foolishly, almost as if he was waiting for something to happen between them. she kindly gave him a kiss on the cheek, and promised him she would call him the next day. she needed to get to you first.

you were by the bar as you watched their interaction, the giddy look on bucky’s face as he left and gave you a thumbs-up making you chuckle.

then, natasha appeared by your side, asking you what was so funny. you didn’t have the heart to tell her.

“i didn’t forget to get you a gift, by the way,” you told her when she had coaxed you up to her bedroom, “i just…didn’t want the others to see. saved you the embarrassment of the teases and accusations in front of everyone.”

“oh god,” natasha replied, “you’re going to gift me a sex toy, aren’t you? i just know it.”

“you are such an addict,” you snickered, “what do you take me for?!”

then, you pulled out a small box from your jacket, tied in a tiffany blue ribbon with her name written in an accompanying card alongside the box. natasha’s fingers trembled as she received your gift.

to my natasha, my bestest friend.

she didn’t know why her heart dropped a little in disappointment at the note. but she kept up her unwavering smile, and pulled on the ribbon.

it was a silver necklace, with a flower pendant right in front. it was neither tacky, nor extravagant and luxurious, like bucky’s gift had been. and while his gift was definitely something natasha liked, and was surprised by, your gift had been the one that almost sent her to tears.

“because you’re beautiful like the flowers,” you said, a little uncertain as you watched tears well up in her eyes, “natty, are you okay?”

she tried to reel in the tears, but to no avail. worried, you said, “if you don’t like it, i can return it, it’s okay. i can probably get back a half-refund for it, and get you the voucher to spend on something else. oh god, you’re crying because of me, is it that bad…?”

but then, suddenly she was throwing herself onto you, arms wrapped around your neck as she sobbed hysterically. she had never known someone who knew her so well. you wrapped your arms around her body, still confused, when she choked out, “i-it’s perfect. thank you.”

she asked you to help her put it on, and when the clasp was tightened and natasha felt the pendant rest on the base of her collarbones, she held it as if she was holding it close to her heart. it was the best birthday gift she had ever gotten.

“i’m sorry it’s a little small, and kind of lame,” you professed later, as she laid on top of you, spending the last few moments of her birthday together. it was also the rare few times the both of you were fully clothed while laying on that bed. “i know you deserve so much better, but i…i saw the pendant, and it reminded me of you.”

natasha listened to your heartbeat quicken as she reached out for your hand, interlacing her fingers with yours. “i loved it. you don’t have to apologise. thank you, for today as well. steve told me you planned the party from start to finish. called the caterers to make sure they had what i liked, arranged the drinks from the bar, even nearly having a fight over the cake decorations with the bakery. it must’ve been so much trouble.”

your laugh this time was warm, rumbling from your diaphragm. “not at all. not if it’s for you.”

your eyes met hers, and when natasha readjusted her face just so that she could be closer, to give you a perfect opportunity to lean down and kiss her, to give her the perfect end to her birthday night, you stupidly looked away, and told her you couldn’t stay.

as you left, you reminded her to call bucky again, and natasha nearly threw her own phone at you in frustration.

–

natasha had unwillingly agreed to a lunch date with bucky, upon your suggestion that he was a nice guy, and that she was the only one left to go to yelena’s wedding without a date. she made you promise to pick her up right after, and while you feigned that she was so troublesome for asking for such, you were happy to do it for her.

“well, how was it?” you asked. you had been driving for a good fifteen minutes after picking her up, and natasha still had not said one word about him. she had only been talking to you about your day up until then.

she shrugged, almost as if not giving a care for it. “it was okay. he paid for the lunch. we talked about yelena’s wedding.”

“okay enough for a second date?”

she looked away to the window. you thought you said something wrong, when she replied, “what do you think about him?”

“well, i don’t know,” you said, “when he came to me, asking for help to get you to like him, i thought he seemed genuine enough. so…i helped him.”

“wait,” natasha suddenly sat up, shooting you a glare, “you were helping him? to get to me?”

your gaze met hers for a brief moment, before returning to the road. “...yes? is there anything wrong with that?”

she stayed quiet for a moment, but you knew she was seething. you offered to explain yourself, to tell her that you just wanted the best for her, that’s all, and that bucky seemed like a good partner for her, when natasha held up a hand to stop you.

then, she demanded for you to stop the car and let her out.

“what?” you asked, puzzled. “it’s still half an hour to your apartment, natty. and it’s about five degrees out, you’ll freeze to death if you get out.”

“i said, stop the car!” she argued back defiantly, “stop the car or i’m opening the door right now and throwing myself out!”

you knew not to take natasha’s words lightly, as you stopped finally. then, you watched with even more disbelief, as she unbuckled her seatbelt, got out, and slammed the door shut again.

when she began walking her route home, you followed her with your car and pleaded, “come on, natty, are you mad at me?”

she refused to make eye contact or acknowledge you.

“fine, i was wrong. i never should’ve helped him, and i won’t help him anymore. i just…i wanted what was best for you, you know? come on, get back in the car, it’s cold outside, and you still have so far to go if you walk.”

“what’s best for me…” she said under her breath, “...how do you know what’s best for me?”

“natty, i said i’m sorry!” you begged this time, but natasha suddenly took a turn to the right, leading up to a row of shops where the roads didn’t allow for cars in, and you knew it was your sign to leave her alone. she still didn’t acknowledge you when you said you were sorry for the third time.

–

the next time bucky came up in a conversation between you both (you had been very careful not to tread upon it since that day), natasha told you that she had let him down and told him to try again when she was more ready for a relationship.

you were afraid of asking why, in fear that she would ignore you and get upset all over again, but she invited you to do so. so you asked, and she said that she had her eye on someone else the whole time, so it was unwelcomed at the thought of you trying to set her up with bucky.

you had wanted to ask who it was, your curiosity piqued, when you were interrupted by wanda asking you for a dance. it had been at another friend’s wedding, after all.

natasha found herself digging her fingernails into her palms when you took wanda’s hand and danced with her.

–

the woman showed you just how jealous she had been of wanda hours later in your bedroom. with the knowledge that her and bucky were no longer a thing, you no longer had to respect your boundaries with her as a friend, and the both of you returned to sleeping together again. to say that you missed natasha’s touch had been an understatement.

“you look so pretty with my hands around your neck,” natasha whispered harshly. there it was again. the last time she called you so pretty, she was drunk. now, she was sober, and you were still finding it hard to believe her words. perhaps it was just something she said in the heat of the moment.

you moaned as her fingers plunged harder, and deeper, within you, letting your eyes roll to the back of your head as natasha ravaged you for the night. in the morning you would wake in her bed again, and it would be okay, because you had her back, finally. the red, raw trails on your back from her fingers wouldn’t feel so sore, the hickeys around your neck and jaw no longer a nuisance. because you had her back, and it was all that mattered.

–

leading up to yelena’s wedding, the two of you returned to a shared normalcy that was similar to before the bucky incident; something both you and natasha were grateful for.

you would pick her up for lunch at her favourite restaurants most days, and on more than one occasion, you would catch natasha taking pictures of you when the both of you were alone. she thought you looked too good, in the natural sunlight of the restaurant window, and in the scarf that she had bought for you for your birthday.

when you would ask to see the photos later on, you found it hard to disagree that the world did look better in natasha’s eyes.

away from your prying eyes later, natasha would set the photos she took of you as her phone wallpaper.

–

with natasha as the maid of honour and you being one of the grooms (wo)men, natasha was the one who insisted that you at least knew how to dance properly when the slow songs came about. you had whined that you wouldn’t be dancing anyway, since you didn’t have a date, and you weren’t looking to find a date, but the woman was insistent, and you could never really say no to her.

“it’s easy, just follow me, and try not to step on my feet,” she reminded you, fixing the turntable to an elvis record. you watched in adoration at the warm lighting of the room, and how, even in her pyjamas and her hair tied in a messy bun, natasha still managed to look beautiful even in her apartment’s living room.

she took your hands in hers, placing it on her waist, as she laid her head on your shoulder. “breathe. and follow me.”

the music played. it was easy enough keeping up with natasha, following her footsteps and swaying to the music. but what was not easy, was having her breath fanning out against your neck, the smell of wine in her mouth, and the music, oh the music. it was a huge mistake to dance with natasha when elvis’ can’t help falling in love was playing in the background.

the both of you softly, slowly danced, natasha taking comfort in your touch, while the music accompanied all that you were feeling for the night.

shall i stay? would it be, would it be a sin? if i can't help falling in love with you

would it be a sin if you fell for natasha? you could only hold her closer, relishing in the fact that in that brief moment, where the two of you were dancing, no one else mattered, and nothing else was there, except for your two souls, beating as one. once the song was over, it would be back to being just friends for you both, but in that moment, you were infinite, and you were natasha’s.

when she felt you let go first as the song ended, natasha resisted the urge to hold on tighter and ask for a second song.

–

on the morning of the wedding, you woke natasha up first, pressing kisses all over her cheeks and face as she giggled and wrestled you off. then, she tried sneaking her hand past the band of your panties, to which you reluctantly pulled her out of, mentioning how you couldn’t be late to yelena’s wedding, of all events. she groaned and kissed you for a consolation prize.

the both of you got ready together. in the bathroom mirror, when the two of you were brushing your teeth, you made eye contact with natasha and she did with you. she smiled shyly, and you realised you didn’t mind spending the rest of your mornings brushing your teeth beside her for a lifetime.

she sat on your lap as she did your makeup, and you did the same doing hers. the both of you must have had a silent agreement to not look into the other’s eyes for too long in those moments, because you knew natasha wanted to kiss you just as much as you wanted to kiss her when she got too close.

and when the both of you arrived and separated into your respective sides of the venue, you wished natasha the best of luck with a kiss to her cheek. she hugged you back in reassurance, telling you would do well in the slowdance later.

when the guests were seated and ready, and natasha and you standing in the opposite sides of the bride and groom, you caught her eye again, watching yelena walk in. she looked absolutely radiating, and you knew she was thanking natasha secretly for convincing her that a band was a better musical accompaniment than whatever she had planned for herself.

you look beautiful, you mouthed to natasha. she hid her blush in the bridesmaid beside her, as she mouthed the same back to you.

but when elvis’ song came on again, as yelena walked down the aisle, your eyes were still transfixed on each other. it didn’t matter, because everyone else’s eyes were on the bride then. only you and natasha had each other.

and suddenly, you realised that forever with someone, didn’t seem so bad at all. not if it’s with her. not if it’s natasha.

the domesticity, the mundaneness, it wasn’t all so boring if it was with her. you realised you would relive the thousands of days of doing nothing, if it was spent by her side.

you realised you would do anything for her, even go out to get a ring for her right then, propose and then marry her in a chapel, if that was what she wanted. if it meant forever with her.

you realised that maybe you loved her, more than just friends. and loving her meant realising that you didn’t have to make a wish ever again because you already had everything you could ever want with her.

–

you wanted to ask for her hand when it was time to slow dance. you wanted to ask her to be yours. you wanted to ask her if it hurt to breathe while you loved her as much as she loved you.

but when you found her, and went to her side to ask her, you were interrupted by bucky once again, who patted you on the back and diverted his attention to natasha.

he asked her to dance first. and the smile on your face fell, natasha noticed. she halted him, turning to you to ask what was wrong, but then you shook your head, telling her you were fine. she asked again, but you insisted that she dance with him. you would tell her later.

you didn’t know if you were too late. you didn’t know if there were good reasons natasha had established boundaries between the two of you, and whether breaking them meant losing her forever. what were you thinking, that just because you caught feelings, meant she would catch them too?

you wouldn’t risk what you have with her just because of your feelings. you treasured natasha too much for that.

and so when she slow danced with the man on the dance floor and tried catching your eye to dance with her instead, you only gave her a small smile and left the ballroom first.

because you weren’t hers and she wasn’t yours. that had been the arrangement from the start.

#natasha romanoff x reader #black widow x reader #natasha romanoff #black widow #marvel cinematic universe

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aprilthearcher · 3 months

Text

me and you... were meant to be.

[remus lupin x f!reader] [platonic james potter x f!reader]

slytherin!reader (because i myself am one). use of (y/n) (though i tried my best to not overuse it)

angst, but happy ending. remus' insecurities get in the way of your fresh relationship. 3k words.

i haven't written for remus for a long, long time so i tried to do my best because i love him to pieces and recently i've been experiencing a remus lupin era so... here it is. also, that spell she uses to protect her home... i've no idea if it exists, i just liked it.

english is not my first language, so there could be some mistakes. pictures are not mine.

thank you for reading!

i wrote this while listening to "Don't Delete the Kisses" by Wolf Alice and "What if I Love You" by Gatlin.

“What if you and I… What if we were never meant to be?”

“What are you saying, Remus?”

“I'm saying that I don't think we… I don't think it’s good for us to keep seeing each other.”

“But, but why? We are so good right now, we… I’m trying here, Remus, but I don't get it. Why would you do this?”

“I've just told you, we are not meant for each other. You… you des…” He stopped mid sentence. “I don't see you like that anymore, I'm sorry if I made you think otherwise.”

Now, on top of a bus that would drop her off a couple of blocks from her flat, she couldn’t recall a single moment in their short relationship that could’ve propelled something like this. They were good, really good. After dancing around each other for so long during their Hogwarts years, they had finally admitted their feelings one summer afternoon while looking at the sun go down and the moon rise up. Four months later, he was ending it. Salazar, could he have been high? She knew sometimes the boys would smoke those muggle herbs Marlene would bring them, overcharging them of course, but he had never said something so… heartbreaking under their influence. No, he couldn’t have been high, he would become even touchier when he’d smoke some, ignoring his friend’s presence and delighting in the passionate, even primal, effect they’d produce; the lightheaded feeling that allowed him to relax and run his fingers through her arms, her hands, her neck and jaw…

She pressed the palm of her hands against her eyes when they started to water for the fifth time that evening after leaving Dorcas’ apartment complex. Was he so desperate to get rid of her that he couldn’t even wait to do it at home? What would her great-grandmother think of her if she saw her like this? “Crying over a half-blood, a HALF-BREED, you are nothing but a blood traitor. You’ve tainted our legacy, you and your good-for-nothing parents, you are no more worthy than those mudbloods you hang round, affiliating yourself with muggles, living a life surrounded by them." Why did she keep caring about what she would think? She had never shared her views on blood purity and how any wizard or witch that wasn’t part of the Sacred Families would be undeserving of its magic. She hated people like her grandmother. She hated that the old hag had tried to drill these thoughts into her head since a very young age. She was glad she had died and she was glad her parents were nothing like their parents, so why was she remembering her now? Perhaps it was the fear of losing her entire friend group that made her sick mind resort to conjuring the old witch’s voice in her head.

She truly hoped for her great grandmother to be rolling in her grave at the sight of one of her descendants crying over a werewolf and the possibility of losing her entire friend group made up of blood traitors, half-bloods, and muggleborns.

She knew they weren’t like that, that they wouldn’t isolate her for something like this. Merlin, they didn’t even know, at least until tonight, of their relationship! Though she was sure it wouldn’t take long for them to figure it out after how she had left in such an abrupt manner, without saying goodbye and barely making it to the door without the tears falling down her cheeks. She had left the task of explaining everything to Remus.

“Lady, this is the last stop!” The bus driver called out from the front of the vehicle.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Fuck Remus Lupin for breaking her heart, for making her cry and making her miss her bus stop. Fuck him for making her feel so in love she left her guard down, fuck him for assuring her that he could trust him.

Although she had planned to take the muggle bus to get her mind off things and not get home immediately — for she was sure her lonely flat would make her feel worse, for she was sure there was one of Remus’ sweater idle placed on the back of an armchair she was hoping to return tonight after he’d accompanied her home —, she had not anticipated missing her stop and having to walk ten or so blocks home. It was not that she felt unsafe wandering through London this late, but she just felt emotionally exhausted.

She almost jogged all the way home, not wanting to encounter any trouble on her way home for she was not in the right state of mind for fighting anyone, muggle or not. Though, perhaps, the rush of adrenaline that would come from a brawl would bring her back to life, a little at least.

She’d taken two steps into the hallway when she saw the light coming from her flat. Stopping on her tracks, she got her wand out of her leather holster strapped in her left shoulder and approached her door. Good thing she had opted to climb the stairs instead of apparating inside; if she were to be ambushed, she wouldn’t have had any time to prepare.

With the whisper of an incantation the door opened slowly. For a moment, she forgot about Remus and the only thing on her mind was to find out who was inside her home. Her mind was reeling with ideas. Death eaters.

Death eaters. Death eaters. Death eaters.

But how? She had secured the place with some, if not all, of the best protective spells. Dorcas had helped her set them up. The locks were unbreachable, as well as the magical barriers protecting the walls from all sides, there were only two people that could apparate inside, her and…

“Prongs?”

She had chosen James as the only other person to be able to apparate inside her home. The spell was infallible and it had taken them several months of hard work, but it was worth it since not even someone who had induced the polyjuice potion, impersonating James, could get in.

She saw him pacing round her living room, his fingers twirling his wand in the air, a trick she had seen muggle musicians do when playing the drums. He stopped once he saw her, quickly coming to wrap one arm around her frame while the other pushed the door closed. The hiss of the invisible sigils increased for a second.

“I thought something had happened to you on the way home, you took so long. Why did you take so long? I was worried sick.”

“Merlin, James, the baby is making you act just like your mother.”

“Shut up, I was genuinely worried. Was about to go searching for you.”

“I took the bus but missed my stop, so I had to walk.”

He nodded, relaxing a bit now that he saw his best friend was okay. Physically, at least. Her emotions were still all over the place, her heart had calmed down and decided to break again after realising there were no intruders in her home.

“What happened back then, dove? With Remus? You, you just run away.”

“I think you know what happened, James.” She said, while hanging her coat in the rack and taking out her boots. She knew he knew, he wouldn’t have left Dorcas’ flat without an explanation from Remus after seeing her so distressed.

James sighed. Even though her own feelings were messed up, she could still realise this was a difficult position for James, and the rest of them, to be in. (Y/N) and James had been friends since they were young, younger than now at least, knowing each other because their parents introduced them the summer before beginning their third year at Hogwarts. She was a Slytherin thus making it hard for the boy to trust her, even at that age, but one stern look from his mother Euphemia had the boy overcoming his prejudice against her in a heartbeat. It had been quite impossible to separate them since then, which meant introducing her to the rest of his friends. Sirius had been apprehensive, Peter quite terrified… Remus… Remus had been intrigued, you could say. All of his previous interactions with Slytherins hadn’t been pleasing, but this was the girl he had Transfiguration with, who would raise her hand faster than anyone and answer correctly, getting all the spells right on her first try. This was the girl he had glanced at maybe once — he definitely did more than glance — at the library, carrying way too many books for her on one hand while the other, holding her wand, pointed to the floating pile of heavier tomes behind her.

Remus is also one of his best friends, the four of them are like brothers. She couldn’t deny she was quite surprised to see James here, attempting to comfort her instead of him.

He still had his arm around her shoulders when they started to walk towards the kitchen. If James intended to stay then she was in dire need of some tea to pass the bad taste the fight had left in her mouth. He would want to hear her side of the story. Turning to light up the room, she saw pints of red covering James’ knuckles. She disengaged from his hug, positioning her body in front of his then grabbed his hand, harshly. She heard him wince. His eyes scrunched and his lips closed in a thin line, she knew. He knew that she knew.

“Did any of his teeth fall out?” She pressed her fingers to his bloodied knuckles.

“No, but… Ow! Would you stop that?” He tried to release his hand from his grasp, she tightened her hold.

“I don’t need you defending me, James.”

“You’re my best friend, of course I’ll…”

“He’s your best friend too!” She yelled. Salazar, she was pathetic. Defending the boy who crushed her heart no more than two hours ago. “I don’t want you fighting my battles for me, James, especially when it’s against one of your friends.”

“I’m sorry, dove, you are like a sister to me. I couldn’t help it.”

“It’s not like he did anything wrong though. He… he is allowed to change his mind. I - I was the one to get too caught up. I shouldn’t have, I shouldn’t have…”

“I didn’t punch him because he ‘changed his mind’, dove. I punched him because he was lying about that.”

“James…”

“No, no, listen. Listen to me.” He grabbed her face, wiping the new set of tears that had begun to cascade down her face. “I know Remus and I know that he loves you, that he’s loved you since you jinxed one of the fourth years after bad mouthing Peter, perhaps even before that. He’s not telling the truth and he’s pushing you away because he’s terrified of how much he loves you. That’s why I hit him, thought it’d make him realise he cannot lose you.”

“Salazar, you really are your mother.” James laughs at your comment, heart soaring with desperation at the new turn of events. He knew something more was going on with Remus and (Y/N) as of the last couple of months because James Potter was observant and this new bond didn’t look like the shy glances they’d throw from across the Hall during their Hogwarts’ years. These were slow, delicate touches; soft smiles and bodies that would look to be close to each other every chance they got. So he wanted nothing more than for his friends to be happy; although he should’ve seen Remus’ self-sabotaging tendencies coming because he knew all of his friends like the back of his hand, he didn’t. He blamed the uprising war for that. He blamed it for everything, from clouding Remus’ judgement more than ever to forcing him and Lily, and consequently the rest of the Order, to be constantly on the lookout for danger. None of them had had a good night’s sleep for months now.

“You should still apologise, you’ve been friends for years and I…”

Rapid, loud knocks against her front door interrupted (Y/N). She and James looked at each other, he had a hunch of who it might be but getting his wand at the ready didn’t hurt. (Y/N) had the same idea, she started to move towards the entrance with her arm up, wand always pointing at the door.

“Who is it?” The banging stopped.

“It’s … It’s me, Rem - Remus. I - I.” She could hear him shuffling outside, as if he were moving round the place, jumping from one foot to another; he probably was. “It's really me, I - I got you that black leather holster for your wand as a gift. You bought the rug on your bedroom floor in a flea market last month, you said it reminded you of the one you had back home. Your favourite colour is red and you hated yourself for it because James always joked how you should’ve been in…”

“Gryffindor.” By the time Remus had been at the end of his ranting, she had unlocked the door and opened it all the way, hitting the rag on the way.

“Yeah, but green always looked better on you.” Remus looked at her face, he could see the trail of black makeup going from her eyes to her chin. She must’ve felt his stare because in a swift movement she got rid of the marks, or at least she tried to. It smudged a bit more than he knew she would’ve preferred.

“You’ve got blood on your face.” She said.

“I know, I - I tripped down the…” Remus tried to explain while cleaning the blood with the back of his sweater. She could’ve told him she’ll clean it up for him with the touch of a finger. She didn’t.

“You don’t have to cover for him, I know James punched you.”

“Damn right I did.” She heard from inside the flat. James was leaning against the arch that separated the living room from the kitchen, arms crossed over his chest and a look that must’ve frightened Remus because of how he bent his head down and then looked up again, nodding as to show he’d understood his lesson. (Y/N) stared at James with an eyebrow raised, he sighed and then said: “I’m going to get Lily back at Dorcas’. See you, dove.” With a crack in the air, James disappeared.

“What I said, earlier, it - it wasn’t true.” Remus began once they had settled on her velvet green sofa. She had found it on the street, a bit tattered but nothing magic couldn’t repair. “I’m an idiot but I’m just so scared. So frightened that.. that what I - what I am will put a higher target behind your back. I’m a half-breed, a monster, and people like me … No, no let me finish. People like me don’t deserve someone as pure as you so I thought…”

“You thought pushing me away, breaking my heart, would solve any of that?”

“Well, yes! If I’m not putting you in danger during the full moon, then I’m putting you in danger because they - they won’t hesitate to come after you if you are with me.”

“You bloody git. They are after all of us, even if we aren’t together, they’ll still come after me…”

“You don’t know that.”

“What are you saying, Remus? I’m a blood traitor in their eyes, my best friend is a muggleborn. My own great-grandmother would put me on the ground if she could see me right now so don’t try to make me understand you with this bullshit. You may be scared of love, of loving me, but I’m not. I love you and I’ve loved you for so long that I’m not going to give you up, not at times like this. I don’t care that you’re a werewolf, I’ve never cared. And I get that it’s hard for you, that you feel guilty when we try to alleviate your pain, but I’m fucking exhausted that you think I won’t be able to handle it, to handle you and your transformations.” She inched her face closer to his, a hand moving up to cradle his jaw while the other grabbed his hand. “I chose to be with you, knowing full well that it wouldn’t be easy and not because you’re a werewolf but because you are an insufferable arsehole who doesn’t let people in, who is afraid of hurting others while not realising that he’s still hurting them when he pushes them away.”

He didn’t respond, he just leaned further on the touch of her hand. It grounded him. How was he able to think, even for a second, that he would survive without her light-feathered touch, without her hands running through his hair or his arms that would give him goosebumps?

“I thought that you had grown tired of me or that you had never loved me the way I loved you. That you’d thought I wasn’t loyal to the Order, that somehow I would…”

“No, no, no. I’d never, (Y/N), truly, I’d never. I got lost, I- I thought someday you would realise how you had ruined your life by spending it alongside… me. You could do so much better, and yet…”

“I’m sure there are men out there, wizards or not, that are less frightened at the idea of love than you are, Remus. But they’re surely not you, because they’re not as funny, or smart, or witty, or sensible, or great as you. I’d probably get bored of them within the hour and then I’d be lost because you wouldn’t be beside me. The only man I want is you. No one else. You drill that into your head or next time you try to pull a stunt like this I’ll kill you.”

“Got it.” He whispered before leaning in even closer, his lips barely brushing hers. He wanted to be sure she was okay with this; he wanted to be absolutely sure he hadn’t completely messed up their relationship but for that he needed her to confirm it; to accept his apology. She did, sealing their lips desperately, trying to transmit everything she had just said but with a kiss. She had been so terrified that the only way to have him in her life would be through meetings to discuss missions and war plans; that she would never get to touch him, to kiss him, to hold him after a rough full moon again. “You wouldn’t actually kill me, right?”

“No, but I would tell James to punch ten times harder.”

“Please don’t, he’s got a sick hook.”

“Then you better behave.”

She kissed him again, deeper this time. Their lips moved synchronised, familiar with each other; her hands travelled all the way up to his hair while his circled around her waist, bringing her closer. Chest against chest, with her legs propped up into his lap, they stayed like that for a long time before Remus laid her down on the sofa.

#remus lupin #remus lupin fanfiction #remus lupin angst #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x fem!reader #remus lupin x f!reader #remus lupin x slytherin!reader #slytherin!reader #marauders #marauders x reader #marauders x you #marauders fanfiction

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sugarcoated-lame · 9 months

Text

Lost and Found | Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

Single Dad!Bradley x Reader

Part One of my Single dad!Bradley miniseries | part two | library blog

*all my works are 18+, minors DNI

Summary: When Bradley’s four-year old daughter goes missing during a trip to the mall, he doesn’t expect to find himself so taken with the pretty stranger who helps her find her way back to him.

WC: 3.6K

Warnings: I suck at titling my stories and summaries :), a bit of angst, mentions of pregnancy and abandonment, (briefly) missing child, mentions of anxiety/panic attack, but then so much fluff, Bradley’s kid being too cute for her own good, implied age gap, I feel like dilf Bradley needs his own warning

a/n: I wrote this months ago and I’m a bit nervous to share, but the response to the teaser was so amazing (thank you <3) and dilf Bradley lives in my head rent-free, so I’m excited about this one! Also the picture on the right just screams dad Bradley to me! Thank you for reading, as always I’d love to hear your feedback, so please leave a comment/reblog <3

• • •

Bradley directs his gaze away from the rack of little girls’ clothes he’d been perusing, injecting enthusiasm into his voice as he holds up a hanger with a small, baby pink t-shirt dress hanging on it. “Hey, Bug. What do you think of this–?”

He cuts himself off before the end of his question when he realizes that he’s talking to no one. “Where did she…?”

He trails off, brows furrowed. Still holding up the child-sized dress that looks especially tiny next to his large frame, Bradley spins around, perplexed. She was just here.

- - -

Bradley’s daughter, Caroline, who’d just recently turned four— and was growing up way too fast for his liking— was set to begin preschool next week. His little girl was growing right before his eyes and she needed a new wardrobe to accommodate that. So, Bradley had taken her to the mall to buy some new clothes for school. He didn’t know the first thing about little girls’ fashion, but he was sure he could manage.

He’d spent the last hour searching through clothing rack after clothing rack in the girl’s section of a department store, Caroline at his side, lips in a pout and shaking her little head ‘no’ at all of his choices, sandy brown curls bobbing along with her every movement. Bradley could tell the four-year old was getting bored, and he was becoming frustrated.

The buzzing of his phone with a text from Maverick granted him a brief reprieve from his predicament.

“One second, honey.” Bradley sighed, affectionately patting the top of his daughter’s head before looking toward his phone to answer some question Mav had about work.

He was happy for a moment’s distraction from getting ready to tear his hair out wondering if he was going to have to send his daughter to her first day of preschool wearing a trash bag because he didn’t know what the hell kind of clothes he’s supposed to buy for a picky four-year old girl.

Bradley had been a single parent for most of his daughter’s life. He and Caroline’s mother, Amber, had only been seeing each other for the better half of a year when they found out the news that they were expecting. And even then, their relationship was never really official.

The two met not long after the Uranium Mission, while Bradley was still on North Island taking some time to relax and awaiting another assignment. He’d gone to the little diner Amber was waitressing at, he thought she was cute and they’d hit it off straight away. Bradley got her number and the rest was history.

The Navy kept Bradley busy. He was always traveling for some assignment or deployments – sometimes gone for months at a time, so they only saw each other on the rare occasions he was in town.

They’d hang out and hook up, maybe go on a date here and there, a sort of friends-with-benefits situation. There was definitely a sense of care between Bradley and Amber, but the lack of time they were able to spend together meant it never went beyond that.

When they learned that Amber was pregnant, they both knew it wouldn’t be easy. But they thought that, together, they could make it work.

A few months after Caroline was born though, Amber admitted that she couldn’t handle things.

Bradley took to being a father so easily. From the moment their baby was born and she looked up at him with those big, honey brown eyes that matched his own, he knew that he’d do absolutely anything for her. Caroline instantly became his world.

Amber, on the other hand, really struggled. She loved her baby of course, but deep down she wasn’t sure she was ready to be a mother. If she’d ever be.

She figured it was better if she’d gone while Caroline was still young enough that she wouldn’t remember her, and knew that their daughter would be just fine in Bradley’s loving hands. And just like that, she left the both of them.

Bradley resented Amber for a while, but in time he came to understand. Not everyone was meant to be a parent. Besides that, he knew that there was no time for resentment.

He was on his own with a four-month old baby and he needed to put all of his energy into taking care of her. So, he requested a more permanent position at Top Gun so that he could stay in one place to raise his daughter, and it’s been just the two of them ever since.

- - -

Bradley couldn’t have been turned around for more than thirty seconds before he pocketed his phone and reached back out to grab the little pink dress off the rack to show his daughter. But, when he turned back, Caroline was nowhere to be seen.

Ok, don’t panic, Bradley tells himself. She can’t have gone far.

“Caroline?” He calls out calmly, eyes darting around the surrounding area as he spins to look in every direction.

When he doesn’t receive a response, Bradley puts down the dress he was holding and begins to walk among the sea of clothing racks, still calling out his daughter’s name.

He searches the entire girl’s section of the store without success and decides to broaden his search, his heart beginning to speed up in his chest. Ok, he’s starting to panic.

Bradley picks up his pace, maneuvering from one section of the store to another, asking the other customers and few employees that mill about if they’ve seen his daughter.

He knows he must look crazed, practically sprinting, his sneakers squeaking as he moves across the shiny floors as his repeated calls of Caroline’s name become increasingly more frantic — panting and on the verge of tears by the time he’s finished searching the entirety of the large department store to no avail.

Bradley stands frozen in the middle of the store, tears pricking his eyes, chest rising and falling rapidly on the brink of hyperventilating. He’s at a loss for what to do. His mind racing through all of the worst scenarios. What if she’s hurt? What if someone took her?

It’s his job to protect his little girl and make sure that she’s always safe, and he failed her. He’s all that Caroline has, and he feels like a failure of a father.

- - -

You’re walking through the busy mall with a couple of bags in hand, all finished with your shopping and ready to head home when you see her.

A little girl — tiny really, she can’t be older than five — with curls a golden shade bordering between both blonde and brown, standing by the bottom of the escalator, alone.

Playing with her little fingers as she looks around the crowd aimlessly with unshed tears in her big, brown eyes. The scared look on her adorable little face breaks your heart, and you know you can’t leave without making sure she’s okay.

You approach her slowly, as if she were a frightened animal that might bolt at any moment, speaking softly so as not to scare her any further. “Hey, honey. Are you alright?”

The look she gives you is a shy one, eyes widening before she looks down at her light-up sneakers and shakes her head.

You can tell the little girl is apprehensive about talking to a stranger — smart.

Kneeling down to be at her eye-level before speaking again, and setting your shopping bags down at your sides, you tell her your name and ask for hers.

“I’m Caroline.” Her voice is sweet and shy, a near-whisper as she chances a glance up at you, eyes still shining with tears when she lifts her head.

“Are you here alone, Caroline? Are you with your mommy and daddy?” You ask her gently.

She shakes her head again, curls swaying along with the motion. “I was with my daddy, but I lost him.”

The adorable pout on her lips might’ve made you smile, if it weren’t for the tears that follow, finally spilling from her eyes and trailing down onto her rosy cheeks.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. I can help you find him!” You soothe as your thumb moves to brush her tears away. “Where did you last see him?”

Caroline sniffles and thinks for a moment before speaking, a little bit louder this time.

“We were buying me clothes for preschool in one of the big stores, and my daddy had to answer the phone so I was looking all by myself. And then I got lost and I couldn’t find him.”

You continue to wipe at Caroline’s tears as she talks in that rambling sort of way that all little kids do.

“Preschool, wow. That sounds fun!” You try to take her mind off of the scary situation for a second and she nods excitedly at that, still sniffling. “What’s your daddy’s name?”

Her tears finally begin to slow as she talks about her dad.

“His name’s Bradley, but everybody calls him Rooster! He flies planes!” Caroline explains excitedly.

You can’t help but chuckle as you tell her that her dad has a funny nickname, and that his job sounds fun. You’re happy to see Caroline give you a small smile back.

“Do you remember what store you and your daddy were shopping in?”

She has to think for a long moment, the most adorable, pensive pout you’ve ever seen on her face as she tries to remember.

She doesn’t know the name of the store, but she is able to describe it for you, and you’re able to make a distinction from there.

Standing back to your full height, you readjust your bags on one arm and extend your free hand out towards Caroline, offering her a reassuring smile.

“I know exactly where that is! Ready to go find him?” Caroline grins as she takes your hand with an excited nod, tears no longer visible in her big brown eyes.

The two of you walk on in search of her dad — Bradley, and Caroline talks your ear off the whole way. She is absolutely adorable, telling you more about herself and asking you questions about yourself too, and you find yourself falling more in love with her sweet disposition by the minute.

Within five minutes, you make it to the store that Caroline had been in last, hopeful to reunite her with her father who you figure must be worried sick.

- - -

Bradley isn’t quite sure how long he’s been scouring the massive department store looking for his four-year old daughter— though it feels like forever, time seeming to move in slow motion— on the brink of a panic attack and just about ready to phone the police when he hears a familiar high-pitched shriek of, “DADDY!”

He turns around at lightning speed — and practically gives himself whiplash — to see Caroline approaching him, holding a woman’s hand.

When she lets go and bounds right towards him, Bradley lets out a massive sigh of relief. Kneeling down to catch his little girl in his arms, he feels like he might cry all over again, overcome with a flurry of emotions now that his daughter is safe in his embrace once again.

“Caroline, baby, you scared me half to death!” Bradley can’t keep the emotion out of his voice as he lifts his daughter into his arms and stands back up to his full height, lying his head atop of hers and squeezing her tight. “You can’t just wander off like that, you could’ve gotten hurt.”

He tries his best not to sound angry — she is only four after all, and he’s just thankful that she’s okay. Caroline’s arms wrap around his neck as he holds her tight, her face burrowing into the crook of Bradley’s neck.

“Daddy, I’m fine!” She insists. “And I made a new friend!”

It’s only then that Bradley looks up at the woman who had reunited him with his little girl, standing a few feet away and watching them with a sweet smile.

Oh. It’s only then that he realizes, you are beautiful.

Bradley’s honestly convinced you might be an angel. Pretty, bright eyes and a glowing sweet smile that nearly takes his breath away. And, you’d been kind enough to help his daughter safely find her way back to him.

Bradley just stares for a moment, lips parted and still holding Caroline in his arms, and he hopes that you’ll chalk it up to the overwhelming nature of the situation.

“Uh– thank you so much for bringing Caroline back to me. I don’t know how I could ever repay you.” He rushes out, hand cradling the back of his baby’s hair. “I-I’m…” Fuck, why is he so nervous all of a sudden?

“…Bradley,” You finish for him. “Or, Rooster. Right?”

His brows furrow, a pensive look on his very handsome face, a look that you realize matches the one you had seen on his daughter’s face earlier. Cute.

“How did you-” He begins to question how you know his name — and call-sign — but is promptly cut off by his four-year old practically screaming in his ear.

“I told her, Daddy!” Caroline exclaims proudly.

For a man called ‘Rooster’, you sure were not expecting Caroline’s dad to be this good looking. But, fuck, is he hot.

Though he’s clearly got a few years on you, Bradley’s all tall and sun-kissed, tan skin. Broad shoulders and big, muscular arms on display in his fitted black t-shirt while he holds up his little girl, sandy curls a shade or two darker than hers. Whiskey-colored eyes that match his daughter’s, that you can only describe as puppy dog eyes.

His deep, husky voice that sends tingles down your spine and beautifully shaped pink lips framed by a mustache that you’re surprised you find so attractive.

“Well, I’m glad I could be of help.” You hope that he can’t see the flush you can feel blooming on your cheeks as you speak. “And, Caroline was great company!”

You wink at the little girl who giggles against his shoulder, and when Bradley smiles at you graciously, you can’t help but smile back. God, his smile is pretty.

Up in his arms, Caroline gets distracted playing with her dad's curls. There are a few moments of silence between you, though not uncomfortable, before Bradley speaks up again.

“Well, thank you again. I–uh,” Bradley clears his throat.

“I guess we should let you go. We’ve gotta find some clothes for this little troublemaker, otherwise she’ll have to go to school wearing a garbage bag.” Bradley jokes in a playful tone, bouncing his daughter around in his arms as she giggles, and you can’t help but laugh too at the infectious sound.

“Daddy, wait!” Caroline shouts out before you can answer him.

“What is it, little bug?” Bradley murmurs as he strokes a hand lovingly over her curls. Caroline turns in his hold, directing her next question toward you.

“Can you come with us?” Oh, her puppy dog eyes are even cuter than Bradley’s, and you imagine he probably has a hard time ever saying no to her. “Daddy has no idea what he’s doing when it comes to girl clothes.”

You can’t contain the giggle that escapes your lips as Caroline dramatically rolls her eyes and Bradley lets out an offended huff, the two of them staring at each other with matching, petulant pouts. Adorable.

“That is not true!” Bradley practically shrieks at his daughter and it only makes you laugh more.

“And, honey, she probably doesn’t want–” Bradley begins to protest before you interject.

“I’d love to.” You chime in with a coy grin and Bradley looks back at you, bewildered.

Sure, you figure he probably has a beautiful wife waiting for him at home, but what’s the harm in spending just a little more time with a handsome pilot and his adorable daughter? So far, you’re having a lot of fun.

Bradley’s brows furrow skeptically. “Are you…sure?”

You purse your lips, staring up toward the ceiling for a moment as if you really need to think about it before you grin and offer him a one-shouldered shrug. “Yeah, I’ve got nowhere to be.”

You hope you don’t seem too eager, but the matching smiles you receive from both Bradley and Caroline tell you they don’t mind.

Bradley’s honestly a bit shocked that you— a pretty, young, complete stranger, want to stick around to hang out with him and his kid, but he isn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth.

So, once you assure him again that you’re happy to stay, he sets Caroline back on her feet and offers — more like insists — that he holds your shopping bags, and the three of you set off to peruse the oh-so daunting girl’s clothing section of the store once again.

Bradley watches in awe as Caroline grabs your hand, tugging you along as you help her pick out some articles of clothing.

The two of you chatter the whole time, bringing him into the conversations too, holding up articles of clothing and asking what he thinks, and Bradley is delighted to see how good you are with his daughter.

“This would look pretty on you!” Caroline holds out a little girl’s purple sweater dress in your direction. “Wouldn’t it, Daddy?”

You’re biting back a grin as Bradley looks to you and then back to his daughter and chuckles.

“I don’t think it comes in her size, Bug.” Bradley’s gaze returns to you, mirth in his eyes when he continues, “But yeah, it would look very pretty.”

You know he can see the obvious flush to your cheeks this time as his lips pull up into a smirk.

Shaking your head, you look back down to Caroline with a grin. “I think it’d look even prettier on your dad.” That pulls a giggle out of both of them.

Things go on like that as the three of you continue to shop, Bradley admiring how sweet and funny you are, how patient you are with his daughter.

The two of you discreetly sharing amused looks at some of the obscure things Caroline says that could only come out of a little kid’s mouth, banter coming easily between the three of you.

After a short while, Caroline has an array of new outfits for school— and a new stuffed animal after some begging and very convincing puppy dog eyes from his four-year old while you stood by and tried not to giggle, and Bradley knows that he wants to get to know you more.

He hasn’t done much in the way of dating since becoming a single father. Aside from the simple lack of time, Bradley’s always been afraid that most women won’t want to stick around when they find out he has a kid.

That they might not get along with his daughter or worse, be upset when they realize that Caroline will always be his number one priority.

Too scared to let his daughter get attached to someone only for them to leave, Caroline is his world and he’s been content with that.

But now, after seeing the way you are with his little girl — and in such a short time, he can’t help but think that he already likes you being a part of it.

With the clothing shopping done, the sun is setting by the time you're all ready leave the mall. Bradley and Caroline walk you out to your car, and both are reluctant to say goodbye to you just yet. You can't say you’re too happy to part with them either.

As he helps you put your bags in the trunk of your car, Bradley knows he needs to take his shot now — or as Hangman likes to tell him, he needs to get off his perch.

“Hey, could I possibly get your number?” Bradley asks, trying to sound as confident as his voice can possibly muster. “I’d love to see you again.”

Caroline pipes up from next to you, jumping up and down while she still holds your hand. “Me too!”

Is he asking you out? The breathless laugh you let out is one of shock, and you’re sure the look on your face matches as you glance between the adorable father-daughter duo.

You’re also sure that you’re blushing again.

For a moment, you can only stand frozen, lips parted, and when you realize you’ve yet to answer his question, you promptly close your mouth and attempt to school your features, quickly nodding your head.

“Yeah, I’d like that.” You tell him shyly, and Bradley can’t help but smirk at the color that’s begun to paint your cheeks.

He hands over his phone and tries not to smile too hard as you type in your number, glancing up at him and biting back your own grin while you send yourself a text so that you’d have his too.

You kneel down to squeeze Caroline into a hug, the little girl happily wrapping her arms around your neck. You leave her with a promise that you’ll see them again soon, though the way you look up at her father over her shoulder lets Bradley know that that promise is directed at the both of them.

When you stand, Bradley gazes at you with a thoughtful smile before bringing you into a hug too.

“Have a good night, sweetheart.” The deep rumble of his voice so close to your ear, as well as the heat of his touch, leave your body feeling warm all over. That warmth never fading even as you watch Bradley and Caroline cross the parking lot, hand-in-hand, to get to their car.

Yeah, you definitely wouldn’t mind seeing him again soon.

- - -

Thank you for reading! Leave a comment/reblog if you enjoyed, feedback is always appreciated! x

Part 2 will be up next Wednesday! <3

UPDATE: you can read part two here ! ❤️

tag list: @wkndwlff @sebsxphia @chaoticassidy @dempy @ohgodnotagainn @shanimallina87 @mavrellover91 @memoriesat30 @that-bitch-bri @classyunknownlover @hisredheadedgoddess28 @foreverrandomwritings @lt-spork @princess76179 @gigisimsonmars @kidd3ath @averyhotchner @sammyrenae68 @tv-fanatic18 @one-sweet-gubler @simonscumsock

also tagging some people who reblogged/replied to the sneak peek : @fanficfandomlove @hangmanssunnies @milestomaverick @maverick-wingman @teacupsandtopgun @katiemcrae @colourfulsuitwonderland @becks-things @bradshawsbaddie @bradshawsbitch @valhallaas @roger-that-cap @woodkiller

. . .

#bradley bradshaw #rooster bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x female reader #top gun maverick #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw x y/n #rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw fluff #top gun fic #miles teller #dad bradley #single dad bradley #my writing

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bunnylovesani · 5 months

Text

Daddy Issues

(This is what I imagine him looking like in this fic)

Content warnings: MDNI, reader has daddy issues, 20 year age gap, Anakin is your best friend’s dad, drinking, fingering, dirty talk, general smut with a bit of fluff

WC: 2.6k

You and Leia met in your first year of college and your friendship quickly blossomed. Despite being from the same town, you’d never bumped into each other. If you had, you’re sure you would’ve remembered him. The first time you’d met him was Christmas, 4 years ago; it was your first time coming round to the Skywalker residence and all you knew was that Leia was raised by a single dad, who was now in his 40s. The moment you laid eyes on him, you were fascinated. He had dark blonde hair which curled into golden ringlets at the ends and a mysterious quality about him you were sure made the women weak at the knees- how he’d managed to stay single for most of his life was beyond you.

Despite your fervent initial attraction to him, you tried your best to put all of it aside. Besides the obvious reasons to restrain yourself, he was also the first positive male figure you’d had in your life. He was a damn good father; always present in Leia’s life and, since you two were joined at the hip, by extension yours too. You ignored every sign, every impulse, every sizzling moment of tension that came between you two- tension you naturally assumed was one sided- he’s a decent, respectable man after all.

You had it all under control- until you received a call confirming the graduate program you’d applied for months ago had been accepted. The subsequent week was spent getting daydrunk while hesitantly packing your entire life into a van full of brown boxes- or rather, directing Leia to do it for you since you were too inebriated. It all boiled down to your final night; one last night in the suburbs you’d felt suffocated by your entire life before you moved to the big city to start your shiny new life.

So why did you feel sad? You suspected you knew the reason but spent the better half of an evening denying it and battling the growing urge to pay him a visit. Eventually, when the reality that you were about to leave him forever sunk in, you found your feet taking you out the door of their own volition. Preparing to ambush him with the help of some liquid courage you’d choked down prior to leaving, you rung the doorbell of his house for what you thought may be the last time.

“Oh, hey honey. Leia just left to spend the night at her boyfriend’s house, you just missed her. I thought you’d already said your goodbyes?”. He innocently questions as he opens the door and lets you in.

“I know, it’s you I came to say goodbye to.” You say anxiously, staring at him intensely through your lashes.

“I see, I’m honoured.” He smiles and approaches you, pulling you into a hug. “Good luck with everything sweetheart, stay safe and above all- remember to have fun! Life passes you by in an instant and one day you’ll wake up as old as I am and kick yourself for not grabbing every opportunity you had.”

“Funny you say that, Sir. That’s the exact mantra I’ve adopted recently. Fuck it, right?” You help yourself to the glass of whiskey he was holding out of his hand and take a sip.

“Can I sit with you for a little while?” You plop onto his cushioned couch before he can reply.

“Erm, yeah of course, make yourself at home.” He says welcomingly, though with a perplexed expression on his slightly wrinkled face. “Are you okay?” He wonders if there’s a reason you’re acting so strange. You don’t usually drink.

“I’m great, thank you Sir.” You bat your lashes. “Just feeling sentimental with the circumstances and all.”

“How many times have I said, call me Anakin. I know I’m old but after so many years I’d say we’re on a first name basis.” He chuckles, taking a seat beside you on the sofa, keeping a respectable distance. “I know I’m nothing much to you but I really do think of you and Leia as my girls. I’m so proud of everything you’ve accomplished.” He says endearingly, smiling at you kindly.

That’s when you’re reminded of the reason you came here tonight. You had every intention of telling him how you truly felt, how you’d had a raging crush on him from the moment you met him- and now that you might never see him again, you saw no reason why you shouldn’t act on those feelings.

But hearing him compare you to his daughter filled a hole you felt inside you ever since your father abandoned you- while simultaneously making you feel sick to your stomach.

You stared into his warm eyes, encased with crows feet and accompanied by two prominent creases on his forehead. You shouldn’t find a man of his age so attractive but you do.

“You know, I don’t think you’re old.” You state simply.

“What?” He asks somewhat confused by your meaning.

“You said one day I’ll wake up as old as you. I don’t think you’re old at all. If anything, you’re in your prime.” You look away. “You’re not nothing to me either.”

He looks visibly stunned, though he tries to mask it by refilling a glass of whiskey, the brown liquid almost spilling everywhere.

“Right back at you, kid. Well I’m sure you’ve got a lot of packing to do so I won’t keep you. You need a ride?” He shuffles in his seat.

“No. Not the kind of ride you’re thinking of anyway.” A wave of boldness overcomes you and you feel the alcohol burning through your veins as you shuffle closer to him.

“Uh, I think that whiskey’s gone straight to your head. Why don’t I get you some water?” He’s about to get up but you grab him by the hand and force him to stay seated, holding onto it longer than necessary.

“You know how I feel about you Anakin. I know you know.” You stare deep into his mature blue eyes as his Adam’s apple bobs up and down with an apprehensive gulp.

“Now that’s enough young lady. You absolutely should not be thinking about me in that way. I’m almost twice your age.” He sternly warns you and you can’t help but wince. The way he’s scolding you is triggering some deep rooted daddy issues. You knew you always had them to some extent but you never knew just how bad they were until you met Anakin.

“I dont mean to make you uncomfortable, I just couldn’t hold it back anymore. I’ll leave right now if you want me to, you’ll never see me again. Just tell me you don’t feel anything towards me and I’ll be on my way.” You’re huddled over him with your legs on the sofa, hand slowly inching its way towards his thigh.

A flash of conflicting emotions run through his eyes- he’s obviously embarrassed, perhaps shocked - though you find it hard to believe he had no clue at all- but there’s something else. He’s debating with himself, you can see the cogs whirring in his mind.

“I can’t say that.” He meets your gaze. “I care about you a lot, you know that. Which is why you need to leave. You’re not in the right state of mind.” He gets up again but you pull him down and climb onto his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“I have been in love with you for 4 years, Anakin. You are my every waking thought. I know it’s wrong and you’d never be with me but I can’t control myself. If I can’t have you forever, let me have just this one night- please.” You wait for him to object to the way you’re sitting on him but to your surprise, he doesn’t.

“Alright, honey.” He grumbles softly after a little while, looking at you with a subdued expression that conveyed both concern and understanding. “Alright, if that’s what you want, I’ll give you what you want. I’m yours for the night.”

You sit there, stunned. You were fully expecting him to kick you out of the house and tell Leia everything. You were expecting anything other than him giving in. Is he just taking pity on you and thinks this will help you get over your daddy issues? He knows you have them. Or is he as sick and twisted as you are?

“Can…can I…” You lean in, pressing your fingertips against his lips.

“Leave it all to me sweetheart. Daddy will make it all better.” He wastes no time taking your hands into his own and kissing your fingertips softly, before pressing his lips against yours.

You’re too stunned to react so you allow him to kiss your motionless lips, your eyes still wide open in disbelief. You’d never been so grateful to someone for taking the lead.

“Close those pretty eyes for me baby, you’re safe now.” He kisses your eyelids softly and his gentle caresses awaken a deep urge within you.

You grab at his collared shirt, loosening his tie and unbuttoning it. “Been working more late nights at the office?” You mumble into his lips as you push the crisp white shirt off his shoulders, leaving his muscles exposed.

“That’s because I have two women in my life who bleed me dry.” He chuckles and you smile at the memory; he’s shelled out for you on more than one occasion- from plane tickets and birthday gifts to a new MacBook for college because your one broke and you couldn’t afford another since you’d been fired from your waitressing job- he even agreed that that guy deserved to get a drink thrown in his face for grabbing you. He said that if he were there, he would’ve done worse.

Before you freefall into a psychoanalytical hole, Anakin rips your skirt off - it’s as if he can hear your mind working overtime. You gasp a little as he kneads the fat of your ass cheeks roughly, guiding you until you’re grinding against him. You can feel him getting hard, and oh did it feel big. You’d stolen subtle glances at his crotch on numerous occasions, contemplating what it might look like, what colour the tip might be, what it might taste like. You couldn’t bare to be left in the dark any longer so you reached for his belt and impatiently started undoing it- but you were stopped by his large hands cupping yours.

“Not just yet princess. I wanna take my time with you.” He whispered coarsely and the feeling of his warm breath on your neck sent shivers down your spine. Before you knew it, he had spun you around so that you were sitting on his lap with your back facing his front. He traced his tongue in big open kisses along your neck while his hands trailed up and down your thighs, before he hooked his fingers around your panties.

“Lets get these off shall we?” He purred and his words sent sparks straight down to your core. He lowered your underwear only down to your knees, before spreading your legs a little, his hand placed under one of your thighs to keep it up. You felt the cold air hit you and knew instantly that you were soaked.

You breathing was reduced to short little pants as his fingers reached the inner folds of your pussy, and it felt like every caress touched your soul. You started squirming about in his lap as two of his fingers slid into you.

“Goddamn… oh baby, I didnt even mean for that to happen but you’re just so wet they slipped right in.” You mewled at his lustful words as he curled his fingers inside you, rubbing your clit with the base of his thumb.

“Oh Ani…ah fuck!.” You cried. “Anakin!”

“Yes sweetheart, what is it?” Gaining speed, he grabbed your cheeks with his free hand and turned your head to force you to look at him but you were too stimulated to respond.

“Do you hear how wet you are? And here I thought you were a good girl.” He maintains eye contact and your cheeks flush at the lewd sounds coming from your core. You take a glance and see his hand is glistening with your arousal, wetness squelching as it pours down to the Rolex on his wrist.

“Aah…I, I’m sorry daddy! Mm can’t help it” You manage to squeal out, embarassed by how wet and helpless he made you.

“Don’t you dare apologise sweetheart. Daddy loves how wet this pussy gets. Is this all for me?”

“Yes, yes Sir it’s all for you- mm all yours!” You moan as you feel your climax fast approaching. “Please can I cum? Pleasee daddy!”

“Yes princess, cum for me.” He pumps his fingers in and out of you at such a tempo you have to hold onto his arms for stability.

As if someone opened a dam, your orgasm washes over you and you let out a stupified scream- you wanted to say his name but your brain is so scrambled all you can manage is a mumbled moan of incoherent syllables.

“Such a good girl baby, well done honey.” He plants kisses all over your cheek and neck as your heart rate climbs down.

As you come down from your high, the realisation of what you’re doing dawns on you. As if he could read your mind, he takes your face into his hands.

“What’s going on in that beautiful mind of yours? If you think you’ll regret it, tell me now. I don’t think I could handle it if we made love and you woke up regretting it.” He speaks softly, as if being too harsh might scare you away.

“No, no it’s not you.” You quickly respond. “I just feel a little cheap. I don’t ever have one night stands so I’m kinda out of my depth here… and the guilty thoughts about Leia creeping up on me don’t help either.”

“Hey, you’re not cheap.” You scoff at his attempt to reassure you. “Stop that, I mean it. I have nothing but the utmost respect for you regardless of the outcome of this. But…I mean I’m out of my depth here too. If we’re being honest, I haven’t had sex in years.” Anakin admits and your jaw drops. How could a man this damn fine not get laid for that long?

“It’s a personal choice.” He corrects before you jump to any conclusions about what might be wrong with him. “I don’t like one night stands either and if I’m not in love, I have no real interest in sex.” Your heart leaps at the insinuation- if he’s willing to sleep with you, that must mean…right?

“So let’s not have a one night stand then.” He continues and your heart drops. I guess you thought wrong.

“Let’s keep seeing each other. I ache all over at the thought of this being the last time I see you. I need you in my life. I don’t care if it’s wrong, I don’t care what people say. Leia will come round to the idea eventually, she has to.��

“I love you.” You reply a little too quickly, staring at him with so much admiration you think your heart might burst.

“I love you too, my sweet girl.”

Part 2

#anakin x reader #hayden christensen #star wars fanfiction #anakin skywalker fanfiction #star wars smut #sam monroe #anakin fanfiction #anakin skywalker smut #anakin x you #hayden christensen fluff #hayden christensen x reader #life as a house

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rs-hawk · 2 months

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Another version of Bestie’s Werewolf Brother where you two have fallen out of contact for years and when he finds out you’re having a baby with someone else because you start being friends with his sister again and he gets really possessive and starts stalking you again. He finds out you’re a single mom and suddenly he realizes he just wants a baby with you even if it’s not his pup 🥺❣️Mostly fluff plz but I’d love some smut too

Not you bringing out this trope when I literally posted it’s my fave. Lol. No smut all fluff but I might do more with this if y’all like it 🥰

When you got pregnant your boyfriend acted like he was happy. He lavished you in compliments and told everyone how excited he was to be starting a family with you. Your childhood bestie and you even reconnected, her excited about baby names and planning your baby shower. It’s like you picked up right where you left off.

When you ask about her brother, she’s obviously uncomfortable. She comes up with all kinds of excuses about why he doesn’t want to talk to you, or why he seemed to have just vanished off social media recently. You can’t help but feeling hurt but you keep it to yourself.

When you catch your boyfriend cheating on you, you end up packing up all your stuff in a night and moving back in with your parents. It sucks. You can’t help but feel like a failure. You start going for walks more at the local park, just trying anything to keep your mind off your predicament.

“Hey,” you heard a familiar voice say from behind you.

You didn’t know that he had already been stalking you for months. Ever since he found out you were pregnant. He thought he could get past it, get past you, but hearing that you had been with someone else drove him crazy. He wanted to be angry with you. To hate you, even, and that other man’s baby, but the longer he stalked you, the more he realized how much he missed you. How he just wanted to be around you again.

“Hi,” you said as you turned around, awkwardly holding your arms in front of your stomach. You knew he knew, but you couldn’t help but wish this wasn’t the first time he was seeing you after all these years.

“It looks like you’re doing well.”

You shrugged, moving your arms and shoving your hands in your pockets. “I guess.”

“My sister said you’re… getting engaged,” he managed to get out without growling.

“We were, but some stuff happened. I’m living back at home until I can find a place.”

He knew he shouldn’t be happy, but he was. After that, he started offering to help you with everything. Need someone to drive you to an OBGYN appointment? Needed help putting the bassinet together? Couldn’t figure out which kind of car seat to get? He was always there and offering to help.

You were surprised, pleasantly so. You’d never thought much about it, but you didn’t think that he would be so involved in your pregnancy when 1) you weren’t dating and 2) it wasn’t his baby. As the weeks passed, he started asking to touch your stomach when he saw movement. He came to your parents’ house all hours of the day if you even hinted that you wanted to see him or if you wanted something.

When you went into labor, your mother took you, much to his disappointment. He came to visit you of course, but he seemed a little off when he came in. His head was down, and he wasn’t nearly as imposing as he normally was, especially considering he was mostly shifted. Then a nurse came back in with the baby after giving a bath.

“Oh! Here’s Dad,” she smiled as she placed the small bundle in his arms, though she did admittedly look a little uneasy.

You started to correct her, but he just started at the little one in his arms with wide eyes. You’d never seen him be so gentle. His ears were perked up, and you couldn’t help but notice his tail started to wag. He shushed you mid-sentence as you tried telling the nurse he wasn’t the dad.

“Human babies are so tiny,” he whispered, rocking the baby in his arms.

The nurse looked between you before slipping out. He stayed almost the entire time you were in the hospital. Even your parents left more often than him. While he was attentive to you, he was even more attentive to the baby. Asking the nurses to show him how to swaddle. Reading up on when human babies can eat solid food (because it’s just a couple months for pups).

He’s the one that took you home. Your parents are excited when they see his car pull up and you’re admittedly a little confused. When you get inside, you see that he took it upon himself to baby proof everything. He put together an entire nursery when you were just going to have the baby sleep in your room in the bassinet. He even sprung to get a crib since he had read online that infants can only be in bassinets for a few months.

That’s when you realize that he really is the best for you. He’s always been the best for you, and he’s the best for your baby too. The baby fell asleep in his arms before he settled the tiny bundle into the crib. Tears pricked your eyes as you wrapped your arms around his back, burying your face in his shoulder.

“You’ll stay, right?”

A low rumble in his chest vibrated your body when he spun around, grabbing you up in his arms. “I’ll never leave again.”

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inuyashaluver · 5 months

Note

hi hi!! can i request a mlt one where she meets single parent reader, they fall in love and then reader + kid go to her games to support her!!!

my girls - maya le tissier

maya le tissier x reader

description: in which maya practices at a park and your daughter steals her ball, when you go to apologise, the both of you are star struck

warnings: so. long. swearing

a/n: ITS MAYA BABY!!! thanks so much for the request, hope you enjoy, got a little carried away, whoopppss❤️

⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆

you and your girlfriend, maya have to thank your daughter, ellie for your introduction to each other.

you always knew you wanted to be a mother, and so, at 20, you decided to go to a clinic and become one alone.

sure it was hard to balance the baby and work as a physio, but the continual support of your friends and family made it worthwhile. and your daughter, was one of the best things that happened to you, and you couldn’t help but say maya was one of the best things that happened to you as well, maya feeling exactly the same.

ellie, was in her ‘terrible-twos’ stage, all round meaning she was a little shit at the moment. she was a mini you, your attitudes and mannerisms completely passing onto her, she was definitely your daughter, something that your clients loved to tease you about as she sat in on their appointments.

you had recently discovered that your daughter had quite a fascination with balls, specifically, soccer balls. everytime you put on a football game, your daughter stares at the screen in front of her, completely entranced and copying their every move. you can’t help but think maybe you’ve got a future, famous footballer on your hands.

—

one day, you had taken ellie to the park on an early, sunday morning. the air was crisp, you and your daughter were completely bundled up amongst the cold, matching red noses and cheeks prominent on your features. walking hand and hand, you take her towards the equipment, watching her every move.

“mummy, look!” ellie giggles, going down the small slide, dressed like a small snowman. “wow, baby!” you exclaim, lifting her in the air and pecking her pink cheeks repeatedly, her little giggles bringing a big smile to your face. you hold her hand around the equipment, pushing her on the swing, playing on the playground with her, whatever she wants.

you watch her play, a bright smile evident on her face, until you see her face light up and she bolts away from you. your eyes widen, she’s running towards a girl on the field next to the equipment. she’s wearing a hoodie and shorts, her hair tied into a loose ponytail, she dribbles the football up and down the field, doing her own drills.

all you kept thinking as you ran was: “when did my child become this fast? i need to put her in football” you chase after her, “ellie, no!”, she continues to sprint towards the mysterious girl, finally stopping in front of her and pointing at the ball. the girl looks down at her surprised, “oh! hello, little one, is your mummy around?”, ellie looks up at her with awestruck eyes, nodding her head slowly at the girl's words. she continued to point at the ball that was stopped under the girl’s foot, “do you want this?”, ellie didn’t speak, just nodded her head.

at this point, you were lightly jogging, carefully watching the interaction between the two. the girl lightly kicks the ball towards ellie, ellie grabs it with her hands and sits on the ground, the older girl quickly sitting down cross legged in front of her. “what’s your name?” the girl questions softly, “ellie” she gives her a toothy grin, “hi, ellie, i’m maya” she returns the grin. “ellie!” you finally reach them, absolutely breathless. you stand with your hands resting on your thighs, breathing laboured and difficult, staring at the ground.

“i’m so sorry about her, she really loves football and-” you look up from the ground, looking at one of the prettiest girls you had ever seen. “hi” maya breathes out, she thought you were absolutely breathtaking. “hi” you reply shyly, kneeling in front of her, hands on ellie’s small shoulders. “what did mummy say about strangers?” you quirk your brow at the small girl in front of you, she just looks at you with a guilty smile.

“stranger danger!” she exclaims, you nod your head in response, “yes, good girl!”, you weren’t too caught up in the interaction, the girl in front of you seeming trustworthy. “but mummy, she’s pretty” she pouts up at you, your cheeks go slightly pink, “yes she is pretty, but still a stranger” maya in front of you stared on with wide eyes and pink cheeks. “oh, sorry! i’m maya” she cautiously sticks her hand out, you immediately take it and gently shake her hand, “(y/n), and ellie, obviously” maya nods her head with a smile.

“now, ellie, we’re not strangers, so it’s okay” ellie makes a small noise of understandment before focusing her attention back on the ball in front of her. “not to be rude or anything, but how old are you? you seem very young to be a mum” she asks, scared she may have offended you, “no, you’re not being rude at all, i’m 22, young but worth it, i think” you shrug with a giggle, maya smiles at you brightly, “ah, i see”, “and how old are you, maya?” you question, “i’m 21” you nod your head, both of you just softly smiling at each other.

the attraction you felt for each other was obvious, both of you wanted to get to know each other better. “sorry if this is weird, but um” she scratches her neck sheepishly, “would you like to, maybe go for a coffee, only if you have time of course!” she rushes her words, not even stopping for a breath. you can’t help but smile at her shyly, “i’d like that”, she returns your shy smile, it only grew when your daughter rolls the ball over to maya expectantly, all of you could sense a special connection forming.

all of you had walked to a nearby coffee shop, ellie holding onto your hand tightly as you walked. you engaged in small talk with maya, conversation flowing so smoothly, you felt as though you’d known each other your whole lives. when you’d found a table, ellie insisted that she sat next to maya, tightly gripping her hand. maya smiles at her so brightly, your heart soared.

“so what do you do?” maya questions, slowly stirring the sugar into her coffee cup. “i’m a physiotherapist” you say cheekily, grinning at her brightly. “wow! that’s awesome!” you giggle at her words, “nah, not really” you wave your hand at her, “and what do you do?” you lean forward, resting your head on your clasped hands.

she gets slightly nervous at your closeness, “um, i’m a football player” you widen your eyes, “no way!” you exclaim, she winces at your volume, putting her hand over your mouth. “mummy, shhhhhh!” ellie holds her finger up to her mouth, the two of you look down at her, giggling profusely.

“sorry, that’s amazing, maya! for what club?” she smiles shyly, “manchester united” ellie whips her head from her colouring page, “mummy!” she grunts, opening her mouth but she can’t get her words out, but you know what she’s saying. “her favourite club” you grin, maya looks down at her with a bright smile, “you’re a smart girl, ellie” she laughs when your daughter nods her head, she gently pats the top of it before turning her attention back on you.

the rest of the day went exceptionally well, you’d spent at least 4 hours with maya and only wanted more, but your daughter fast asleep in her arms meant it was time to go home. maya walks you to your car, placing ellie into her car seat and doing her seatbelt up. “you’ve done this before” you give her a surprised grin, “cousins” she shrugs cheekily, standing in front of you. she’s slightly taller than you, so you look up at her slightly with a smile.

“i’d love to see you again” you say, lightly squeezing her arm before letting go. her breath hitches at your action, “me too,” she breathes out, your smile brightens, you grab your phone from your pocket, she does the same and you exchange numbers. “you know, you a physio, me a footballer, match made in heaven, don’t you think?” you give her a light slap on her arm, your smile never ceasing, “you know, i think you’re right” you match her energy. she pulls you into a tight hug, lasting for a couple before she reluctantly pulls away.

“see you around?” maya questions, lightly gripping your hand, you give it a gentle squeeze, “absolutely.”

—

and you did see her again, you started dating after about 4 dates. your relationship was pure, loving and genuine. you’d been dating for about a year and a half, it couldn’t have been any better. you and maya absolutely loved each other, positively head over heels. it also helped that ellie was absolutely obsessed with the girl, her face lighting up everytime she walks through the door. she eventually moved in, it might have seemed quick but it just felt right.

you’d managed to get a job at manchester united as one of their physios. maya always made an excuse to come and see you.

“baby, my hamstring is playing up” you look up to see your girlfriend leaning on the doorframe with crossed arms. you shake your head at her gently, gesturing for her to lie down. you get up to examine her, lightly helping her stretch, maya always sending you smirks when your hands roamed over her body, clearly different from your regular client consultations.

“okay, baby, you’re good” you grab her hands to pull her up but she just pulls you down on top of her, “baby, no” she whines out, “it hurts” she pouts at you. you laugh at her expression, giving her a quick kiss on her lips, maya’s hand immediately going to the back if your neck and holding you there, deepening the kiss. you hum into her when her hands move up your shirt before you pull away, you knew you’d get walked in on knowing your luck.

“sorry, baby, i don’t want you getting in trouble” you breathe against her lips, quickly pecking them one more time before moving off her and going back to your desk.

“you’re no fun” she huffs out, a scowl evident on her face before she gives you a quick kiss on your lips, going to walk out of the room back to training. “i love you” you sing out, she shakes her head at you, “yeah, yeah, i love you too” she sticks her tongue out at you and you return the gesture.

—

it was game day for manchester united, a grand final in fact. you and ellie had been hyping maya up, telling her that she would do amazing. the girl was convinced you weren’t watching the match, you told her you’d be working in the back in case anything happened, in reality, you had a little surprise up your sleeve for your special girl.

you and ellie sat in the friends and family section, wearing your ‘le tissier’ jerseys, matching grins plastered on your face. “you excited, ells?” you remark at your daughter's bright face, her eyes focusing on the pitch in front of her. she nods her head enthusiastically, “where’s may may?” (a nickname she loved to call maya), she sits on your lap, looking around in search of your girlfriend. “she’s coming, lovey, we need to be patient” you coo, gently hugging the small girl on your lap. she nods in understanding, playing with your fingers and rings.

surely enough, the girls started coming out, you and ellie cheering loudly when you see your favourite girl. maya hadn’t seen you both yet, she was so focused you watch maya with a proud smile, watching her stern expression as she high fives the opposition, taking her position. ellie was so focused, you couldn’t believe how stimulated she was. the game was intense, but manchester united managed to secure the win.

the girls and the crowd cheer loudly, ellie screaming and jumping on the chair, you hoist her up on your waist so she can get a better look. ella sees you first, her eyes widening and immediately rushing to get maya. the girl drags her over to your direction, maya immediately perks up and sprints over to you, bundling the both of you up into a tight embrace. “my girls!” she exclaims, “le tissier jerseys, huh?” she smirks, giving ellie a loving kiss on her head until she turns to you, pupils wide and kissing you passionately, pulling away when she feels a little hand on her cheek.

“my mummy, may may” she frowns, “ellie, we share mummy, darling” she explains, giving the girl another kiss on her cheek. she lets out a little squeal, you laugh at the interaction. kissing both of them on the cheek. she takes ellie from you, holding her on her hip and talking to you until she gets called to receive her medal.

“can i take her?” maya looks at you cheekily, you laugh and nod, watching them both walk over to the podium, maya puts the medal on ellie’s neck, taking her quickly to the rest of the team, all of them excited to see her. you have access to the pitch, you walk on and take numerous photos.

they hoist up the trophy, celebrating with one another. maya runs over to you with ellie hand in hand, both of them with matching grins. maya lifts her up again, you gently take the medal off ellie and drape it over maya’s neck, “congratulations, beautiful” giving her a quick kiss on her and ellie’s cheek, ellie seems to doze off in the girls arms, maya finally gets to kiss you the way she wanted, leaving you absolutely breathless. she loved her girls. and you definitely loved yours.

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