#french exit more like french exes
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when you enter the tragic exes competition but rimlaine is already there
x
#(clutches chest) french people#french exit more like french exes#i’m dropping subtle hints that i might be posting something soon#rimlaine#tragic french enjoyers can i get a hell yeah
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La Vie En Rose | Sebastian Wilder x Reader
summery: a new jazz singer, makes her way into Sebastians heart after his last devastating love. can she help him move on?
word count: 695
a/n: i absolutely love La La Land!! ! im happy to report we have a new Ryan Gosling character for the tag list so requests are welcome for him!!!!
You were late. Again. Working at one of the small Jazz clubs in Los Angeles meant that either you could lose your job to another singer or, you were the only one available and had to work twice as hard to stay at your place of employment. This was the fourth time in the past month you had been more than 20 minutes late to work. You were so caught up in the life of your now ex boyfriend that anything outside of his work and his world was deemed not important. This morning was the last time you would ever live under his rules again and kicked him out, including breaking up with him and throwing his shit outside your window onto the plants and sidewalk just underneath it. He was pissed. In all, you were extremely late for work.
Sebastian happened to be at your place of work today. He didn't know you and neither did you to him, but you would. He had been coming to this place for years, and more recently has been dying to listen to your voice for more than the one song you were put on stage for.
As you rushed into your place of employment, the “Jazz Dimond”, you were met with the angry face of your employer. You didn't get any words out before he threw your items from your locator onto the floor of the Jazz club and walked away. Sebastian watched as you picked up all your items, stuffing them the best you could into your giant purse already carrying loads of things.
“Why don't you come work for me?” Sebastian asked you, already standing in front of you. You had seen him at the bar before and you knew he also was opening a new Jazz club. You were stunned he wanted you to work for him. From that day on you worked alongside Sebastian as he readied his Jazz club to open, called “Seb’s”. It was his ex-girlfriends idea and you knew that before you came and got attached he loved another.
The two of you didnt start dating until a year after they opened. The relationship was slow, a nice past for the two of you as both of you had been in previous relationships and didn’t want to get hurt.
That year you found a song you wanted to sing for one of Sebs big nights at the club, a special French themed jazz night. You decided that La vie en Rose would be your song for the night. Sebastian had no idea, and was off in his own world that day trying to get ready for that night. This night would be the night Sebastian realized after a year of dating you, he was so in love with the woman on stage he knew it was worth it.
When you press me to your heart
I'm in a world apart
A world where roses bloom
And when you speak, angels sing from above
Everyday words seem to turn into love songs
Give your heart and soul to me
You sang your heart out, words flowing from your lips, the french song just creating a starry atmosphere. Sebastian was star struck, love struck by you. You wanted to sing this song to show him you loved him, this place you had together, and the life you wanted with him by your side.
Sebastian stared at you and the way your glistening silver dress made you look like an Angel! When you ended the song and exited the stage after the claps and woops from the audience, there he was. A bit sporadic Sebastian scooped you into his yards and kissed you, dipping you as he did.
“I love you Y/N” he spoke, the words were like waves over you. You felt like you were drowning in him and you didn’t want to ever surface! When the waves subsided and you still felt underwater…
“I love you too Sebastian” you spoke. Sebastian smiled, the biggest one you have ever seen. That night, the french love song tied your hearts together
And life will always be
"La vie en rose"
You sang your heart out, words flowing from your lips, the french song just creating a starry atmosphere. Sebastian was star struck, love struck by you. You wanted to sing this song to show him you loved him, this place you had together, and the life you wanted with him by your side.
Sebastian stared at you and the way your glistening silver dress made you look like an Angel! When you ended the song and exited the stage after the claps and woops from the audience, there he was. A bit sporadic Sebastian scooped you into his yards and kissed you, dipping you as he did.
“I love you Y/N” he spoke, the words were like waves over you. You felt like you were drowning in him and you didn’t want to ever surface! When the waves subsided and you still felt underwater…
“I love you too Sebastian” you spoke. Sebastian smiled, the biggest one you have ever seen. That night, the french love song tied your hearts together
#la la land#sebastian x reader#ryan gosling fic#ryan gosling fanfic#ryan gosling sebastian#i love ryan gosling
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SNATCH ME UP | b.chan x latina!reader
implied angst + spanish words + idol!au + making up + cat owner reader + fluff
the air is chilly and your racing heart only makes you acknowledge how nervous you are. which means you feel colder than usual because of the nerves. you can hear the crowd, muffled by your heart beat but you only dwell on it more than usual.
“n/n,” the maknae of your group whispers behind you, the nickname she specifically gave you brings you back to reality.
“hm?” you hum, not trusting your voice.
“are you ready?”
“no,” you whisper, but it sounds more like a whimper.
she hugs you from behind, reassuring you that you got this. “-and chan-sunbaenim will be very proud!”
you relax for a moment but that is exactly why you’re nervous. chan is somewhere in the crowd, definitely waiting for your amazing performance alongside your group but what he doesn’t know is that you and emi have a duo opening act and more importantly you will be singing in spanish (or whatever latin american language you speak). your native tongue.
“we got this, you’re not alone.” emi assures quickly before the backtrack starts to play in your in-ear monitors.
you take a quick deep breath before taking your first stride down the stage. the instrumental is slow, darker than what the original song is but it’s perfect. you’ll sing it just as slow and full of pain, acting has always been your forte. you’ll just have to pretend like always, making your heart calm down sooner than later.
“VE~N,” you scream-sing into the mic, looking darkly at the crowd, you know everyone must be startled at the foreign language. “Y CUENTAME LA VERDAD.”
“TEN PIEDAD,” you takes a shuddering breath, “Y DIME. POR QUE~!? NO. NO, NO~!”
and emi goes in, translating the verse that comes afterwards in korean as you move to back her up in the dance. you manage to get a glimpse of a screen, seeing chan and minho stare intensely at the performance. you make yourself believe that there wasn’t any pain in chan’s face. you didn’t even want to see him, really. what a coincidence that was.
and just when the trumpet’s instrumental dies down, the transition to your group’s latest comeback plays. you and emi move in sync, her voice filling up your in-ear again and soon, your other members join in.
your composure lasts all evening. you feel relieved when you finally get off the stage. emi and the others exclaim how happy they were, that you did amazing. that everything will be alright.
you weren’t sure but hopefully everything did go well. whether chan and you make up or not, whether the two of you break up, you knew you had other things to focus on. you were fine before him, you could be fine aft-
“y/n.”
you freeze, last in line as your group files out to leave the backstage and head to the seats outside.
“y/n we need to talk,” chan whispers loud enough for you to hear.
you peer over your shoulder, “now is not the time, chris.”
he can hear the underlying venom in your voice. he takes a deep breath.
“well look at my messages and you’ll deem what day is fit.” is all he says before walking away, preparing for the stage.
you swallow, rushing your steps to catch up to the girls. you get some praise from idols you pass by, a lot of soft claps and “loved it!” whisper-shouted. your back hurt from all the bowing.
by the time you sit, stray kids’ performance already started. you can only hold back tears as you see your possible ex-boyfriend shine.
“we can leave and let him come here to talk,” your leader says.
“i don’t know…” you say softly, sullen.
“i think it’s best, our dorms aren’t known by the public yet, unlike theirs, and the dorms are safer than a cafe or whatever you two originally had in mind.”
you stare at her, sighing in defeat. “okay, i’ll text him then.”
she pats your shoulder, smiling warmly.
“thank marie,” you say to her, jokingly adding a french accent.
“yah,” she says while ruffling your hair as she exits the kitchen.
you go to chan’s chat, staring at all the messages and all the registered missed calls. your hands tremble and sweat, your mind races. what if he changes his mind and immediately just says the 3 words? what if he gets aggressive when he gets here? what if-
“stop overthinking,” emi’s voice startles you, causing your thumb to send the message you had mindlessly typed.
“ai- mierda!” you groan, whining as you slump over the table.
“if this is about chan you shouldn’t be like this!” she scolds, “you act like he’d hurt you.”
“he already has-“
“on purpose.” she strains, “and physically. he would never hurt you in that way! plus. he wouldn’t have any reason or right to, he’s the one at fault.”
“i know,” you groan as you hear your phone ding.
chan’s reply was a simple “alright”. you weren’t sure how to feel about that. but it didn’t matter, emi made sure you were in decent spirits by the time she and the girls left. all of them gave you words of encouragement and you relaxed just a tiny bit but the nerves returned while meet up time got closer.
you shut yourself in your room, playing with you cat to try to relax once more. yet, you couldn’t. everything frustrated you, everything made you want to cry. especially how cute your cat looked in the white vest chan gave him a few weeks ago.
when the doorbell rings, you jump. your cat scurries away, surprised at how jittery you are. you close the door behind you, locking your baby inside your room.
your heart is racing, you already want to cry.
but you have to be strong. you have to face reality. nothing has been easy up until now, foreigners as trainees never do.
a break up is nothing.
chan us standing on the other side of the door frame, looking charming in his grey sweats and black hoodie. he doesn’t have his beany on, but he looks dashing as ever.
“hi,” he tries a smile, you reflect it as well.
“hi, come in,” you step aside, allowing him to do so.
both of you are quiet and tense as you head to the kitchen. he sets his bag on the table, and quickly strikes conversation.
“i want to apologize.” he starts, you silently sit down on the stool. “for constantly putting you aside, for diminishing you, for taking out my problems on you and treating you like that’s all i have you for. y/n,” you manage to make eye contact and you see the tears brimming in his eyes.
it makes you reflect that same expression.
“i love you. i truly mean it. i know me having problems these past few months aren’t an excuse, i know better than to treat you like that and still did it and i hurt you and that makes me feel horrible. because the moment i let you in my life, i’ve never been happier. you’ve been nothing but supportive and loving and i’ve tried my best to return it but i’ve failed you so horribly these last few months. i’m really sorry, for doing that. for making you cry.”
you wipe your tears, realizing that you indeed were crying at that very moment. you sniffle, looking down at the ends of chan’s bag’s straps that you’ve been messing with these past few minutes.
“i’m tired, chan,” you say.
his shoulders sag, “i know, and i know i caused that. you’re so patient… i actually hit your limit.”
you swallows thickly, “but even so, i still want to give it another try,” you look at him again, “because i love you too. we’ve been together for a year and a half, chan. i don’t want to throw that away. and if we ever do then i don’t want to end on bad terms. that would hurt me more.”
“i know,” he says softly, “i know. baby.” he leans over the table, reaching out and placing his hands over yours. “will you forgive me?”
you nod.
“and will you give me another chance?”
“yeah,” you sniffle.
“good, because i brought this.” chan grins, sniffling a bit as well. he removes his hands from yours and pulls out a box from his bag.
“and what’s this for?” you question as you take the box.
“a present,” he simply says, biting his bottom lip as he watches you set it on the table to open it.
you gasp as you see the custom made cat collar that you had made a few days ago. you didn’t really have money for it, most of your check went into the trainee debt you’ve earned and are close to paying off. you found a beautiful site with expensive but pretty customizable options. with every collar purchase, the seller would send a matching ring or bracelet (to obviously match with the kitty).
you couldn’t help but grin as chan put the bracelet on. especially when he said he purchased the ring so the three of you have family jewelry.
“cosita linda mia,” you squeal, swooping up the fluffy orange cat that comfortably laid on your bed in a loaf position. “look what daddy brought you!”
chan grins, adoring how you cradle and kiss your cat. he hugs you from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder.
“i’m serious,” he says softly. “i love you, i always want to see you happy.”
you sigh softly, melting into his arms as your cat jumps out of your arms. the two of you watch the feline walk away to the bed, to resume its previous position.
“always?”
he nods, “always,” he kisses your neck, “and i’ll make sure to achieve that. i don’t want to lose a talented, beautiful person because of my stupidity.”
“yeah,” you grin, “cus like lilly says, i don’t like stupid people.”
hearing his laugh in your ears makes you feel warm and fuzzy again. and thats how you know, you’re back in his hold for sure.
#stray kids x female reader#stray kids oneshot#stray kids drabbles#bang chan#bang chan drabbles#bang chan x you#bang chan x reader#bang chan x female reader#skz x reader#skz x female reader#skz scenarios#skz x latin reader#stray kids x latin reader#bang chan x y/n#skz x y/n#skz x you#kpop x latina reader#kpop drabbles
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Could u do an angst t x reader in which like yn n him broke up months ago but like they kinda run into eachother n talk if that makes sense
HI oh my god this was buried embarrassingly deep in my reqs but if you're still around i hope you like it my love 💗
cw: swearing, angst, one guy being a creep on the street but other than that we good fam
“could i have that to go?”
your head snaps up from returning your wallet to your bag, ears piqued as you wait for more conversation, for the french undercurrent, for the way he – and only he – will thank the barista a thousand times before exiting.
“thank you, thanks so much, man,” timothée says, and it’s too late to bow out gracefully.
scanning the coffee shop quickly, it’s a damning conclusion: either you make a break for it out the front door and pray he doesn’t notice, or you hide behind that particularly leafy fern in the corner. either option is mortifying, but wouldn’t it be just as mortifying for you to make small talk with your ex that steers clear of oh timothée you broke my heart by the way there’s still a ton of your shit at my place which definitely doesn’t still hurt to look at.
timothée takes his coffee and croissant and turns for the door and there it is, that unmistakable walk, and you’re eyeing up the fern when all of a sudden he’s standing right in front of you.
his green eyes are clouded with emotion as he looks at you, eyes flitting across your face. as if he could ever forget your features.
you duck your head quickly, but the damage is done. the feelings come rushing back, and you’ve no choice but to steady yourself against the counter of wooden stirrers and sugar dispensers.
you hand him the sugar instinctually. he’s in you. every detail lives on, even one month later, right down to how he takes his coffee.
he takes a breath, nodding his thanks as he quietly takes it from you, fingers brushing against yours and it hurts, it hurts so much, this thing that you used to do together.
“thank you,” he mutters, stirring the sugar into his cup. “and i’m sorry. i’ll find a different coffee shop.”
“that’s not gonna help,” you laugh bitterly, handing him the creamer. you’d give anything to forget.
timothée nods knowingly, laughing brokenly, and swirls the creamer into his coffee with another thank you. too polite, too stilted, too painful.
“it doesn’t help that you’re everywhere,” you force yourself to say it, heart aching at the pain in his eyes. but if the universe isn’t sending you some sign for closure, then why are you both standing in this coffee shop at 2pm on a random tuesday?
he stirs his drink once clockwise, then twice anti-clockwise, and you wait for him to tap the stirrer against the rim like he always does, but he doesn’t and it’s new and why is it suddenly blurry in here?
you blink rapidly.
it’s been a month. he’s making new habits now. he’s made new habits now. probably with somebody new. definitely not with you.
you move abruptly, snatching up your coffee and pushing the exit door when it’s screaming at you to pull, but timothée’s faster and he yanks it open for you.
“i thought i could do this but i can’t,” your words smush into his shoulder as you brush past him. you’re already halfway down the street when he catches up, his long strides doubling yours.
you stop suddenly with sudden intent to rip the bandaid off and he skids to a halt, nearly colliding with a stop sign.
sheltered under a scaffolding, you wrap your arms protectively over your chest in an attempt to hold together your broken heart.
“timothée, i can’t do this,” you repeat tearfully, looking up at him. he swims in front of you and you blink back tears only for them to splash onto the concrete. traitors. you knew you should have hid behind the plant.
at your tears, the weight on his chest doubles, a desperation so impossibly heavy he’s certain he won’t breathe right ever again.
“i’m sorry,” he croaks around the lump in his throat, and you can tell he means it. really means it. he’s aching with it, earnest eyes baring his entire soul as they blink back their own tears. “i know this is selfish and just a really shitty thing to do but i can’t see you again and not tell you – i have to tell you—”
“you mind not taking up half the sidewalk?” a stranger shouts, shoving his way past timothée but not before scanning your body sickeningly.
you shudder, tightening your arms around yourself, but when timothée goes to call him out, you grasp his arm. electricity pulses through you as if you touched a livewire, lighting every cell of your body. you flinch as if shocked, clasping the hot coffee cup in your hands as if it could somehow ground you.
“i have to tell you how unbelievably fucking stupid i am,” timothée tries again. you watch the way his hands shake around his own coffee cup, how the bag containing his croissant rustles against his nervous fingers. it takes everything in you not to reach out, to stop the shaking.
but that would mean one month of hard work down the drain.
“look, i really can’t do this,” you sniffle, looking just over his shoulder. you can’t meet his eyes. he’s standing right here, looking at you so tenderly. “we broke up. you broke up with me.”
timothée shifts his weight from foot to foot. his hands long to reach out, so he slides them into his pockets, anxious fingers twisting those rings around and around.
“i just wanna talk,” he says over the city noise.
shaking your head, you push yourself forwards.
he follows. of course he follows. he was the one who taught you this neighbourhood.
“i…” timothée falters, worrying his lip between his teeth. “i really miss you.”
you meet his eyes and it’s a mistake.
“you’re making it worse,” you wince, wiping under your eyes. you turn away and he lets you, and that really hurts.
“i’m sorry, i’m a dick, i know this is impossible,” timothée speaks so gently it almost shatters you.
you look back.
“i can’t go anywhere,” you choke, desperate for him, desperate for reprieve. “i can’t walk down the street, i can’t watch tv, i can’t go get a damn coffee without you being there.”
he deflates as your words sink in.
“and even if you’re not actually there, you’re still there,” you rant, gesturing to the buildings around you, the backdrops to the first time he showed you the best place to get bagels, and the best shutter to make out against, and the best street to dance in the rain on.
“you say shit like you miss me and i can’t move on,” you sniff, scrubbing furiously at your cheeks as more tears fall.
“i can’t move on,” he stresses, laying his heart bare right there on the dirty, messy street. “you think i wanted to end this?”
eyebrows furrowed, you stare at him in confusion. “you’re the one that did!”
“because i was hurting you, not because i stopped loving you!”
“what, timmy—” you balk, incredulous. “you never hurt me!”
he steps closer. “all those times i had to leave you, months at a time, with shitty phone signal, when all i could give you was a fucking hoodie to sleep with.”
you step closer. “that’s why you ended it? man, didn’t you see it? i was so close to loving you. the only time you’ve ever hurt me was when you ended it, you asshole.”
timothée can’t help it. he grins. smug bastard.
closer, toe to toe, you’re convinced he can hear your heart thumping inside your chest. desperate to fight the smile playing on your lips, you shake your head, stubborn to the very end.
“wait, wait,” his voice drops, serious again. “yn, i need to tell you how sorry i am, truly, i never intended to end it, i just thought that would be the least painful thing moving forward—”
“screw you, timmy,” you laugh happily, still shaking your head even when he closes the gap, and, oh, his hands still cup your face. guess some habits die hard.
“say it will be different this time,” you whisper against his lips. “say you’ll give me every damn hoodie you own.”
“and the best phone signal in the world, i’m talking all the fucking bars,” he adds, thumbs stroking over your jaw.
you’re still laughing against his lips when they find yours.
#timothee chalamet#timothée chalamet#timothee imagine#timothee chalamet fanfic#timothee fanfic#timothee chalamet x reader#timothee chalamet imagine#timothee chalamet blurb#timothee chalamet x y/n#timothee chalamet fic#timothee chalamet x you#timothee chalamet angst
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The stages so far of me binging the entirety of Miss Fisher’s Murder Mysteries (spoilers if you haven’t watched it before):
1. “Yeah, the 1920s hasn’t ever really been your preferred vibe, but so many of your friends like this show, and you love ‘Clue’ which seems similar, so just bite the bullet and go.”
2. “Wait, they’re Australian? What? Did I know this before and forgot?”
3. “Ohhhh right, Miranda Otto was in this! I did know that. And she’s a cocaine lord?! Nice. Don’t get to see her in many villain roles.”
4. *first scene with Phryne & Jack* “Oh, he has a very nice deep voice, okay I see I see mmmhm okay. … Why is so he so sulky, though? Big ‘who hurt you’ vibes. Intriiiiigue… “
5. “OH dEaR oh mY, there is banter and cheeky looks, this is bad, coDE RED, pretty sure this is your LAST chance to exit before this becomes a #problem.”
6. *does not exit* *becomes a #problem*
7. “Oh, so she’s gonna be banging lots of men with no emotional attachment (when there is clearly some tragic past hiding under the surface as to why that might be)? So an emotionally damaged woman who copes with her traumas by deflecting said emotions through sex and other various reckless behaviors? Babe… *cups face gently* babe, babe, babe. You’ve made this beyond a problem now. Because every little glimpse of vulnerability among your extremely out-of-hand savior complex is gonna make me fall in love with you more and more… just like the tall, broody inspector man over there (who still has a very nice voice and sad, kind eyes and who you seem to be afraid of being smitten with for ~*some reason*~). Anyway, Jack and I, we’re both fucked.”
8. Wdym they both have traumas from the war & from past relationships, that they both witnessed an unimaginable amount of loss, and that both are broken so deeply that they built fortresses of ice around their hearts to protect themselves AND YET BOTH OF THEM THAW JUST A LITTLE BIT MORE WITH THEIR EVERY INTERACTION? Fuck OFF! This is not FAIR!
9. “Miss Fisher was actually on her way home.” He said that with a fully clenched jaw and a step forward. Fuuuuccckk, there’s gonna be smoldering jealousy, too? Just slap me in the face, the amount of longing I’m about to witness… Jack, it’s okay buddy, we’re in this together. There’s something special about you and she’s gonna figure it out… after what appears to be several seasons and perhaps a feature film. But she’ll figure it out! Stay strong, soldier! I’m rooting for you!
10. “Oh God, her little sister was murdered. As someone who loves my own sister dearly, that’s fucking awful, this is hurting me deeply, and I really do not like it. 🥺 … AND THE MURDERER IS DUE TO BE RELEASED? AbSoLUTELY not! … WDYM THERE’S ALSO AN ABUSIVE EX?! And he’s come back to MURDER HER over a naked painting of her younger self like a fucking CREEP?!*”
(*not a correct summarization of what happened, but not not correct)
Anyway, I found the tragic past!
11. “Abusive ex is played by Peter O’Brien? With a ‘French’ accent? *snort* I mean, okay, it’s a choice. Anyway… what a douche… moving on… “
12. Aw, they kissed! *claps* And so soon! I mean, it was under horrible circumstances, but it happened… and with lingering looks to boot? You know what, I’ll take it. ‘Cause, I mean, look at them… and like let’s not talk about the juxtaposition of Phryne’s panic over seeing someone who once hurt her being redirected by a kiss from someone who would never hurt her… and Jack subsequently lunging for an armed René to stop him from taking Phryne… we’ll just ignore that for now
13. Felt the “I am not afraid of you” in my bones. Good shit.
14. “You kissed me. … You kissed me back!” Children, please. This is a Wendy’s.
This is as far as I’ve gotten, but omg what a fun ride so far. Friends who tried to recommend this to me for YEARS, I am SO sorry I slept on it. I understand now and your taste is impeccable. *muah*
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"Stretch" (2014) review
Aka ✨ why this movie is one of the most underrated ones I've ever seen and why it is some of Patrick Wilson's best work ✨
"If you like stories about chance and coincidence, here's one you've never heard" gives me the chills every time 😮💨
Patrick Wilson is one of the most underappreciated actors of his time, like, not only do his other projects demonstrate that he has drama, romance, instruments, and singing down ✨, but here he is finally given a chance to flaunt his impeccable comedic timing, vocalizations, and expressions
Idk maybe I just love movies with narration (ex., "Heathers," "Jerry Maguire," "Amelie," "Eloise at Christmastime," "Megamind," "American Made," "The Outsiders," etc.)
But jokes aside, I will defend Patrick Wilson's narration throughout the movie no matter whAT ANYONE SAYS YOU CAN PRY IT FROM MY COLD DEAD FINGIES; IT IS AT TURNS FUNNY AND RELATABLE AND PROFOUND AND WE GET TO KNOW THE MAIN CHARACTER BETTER 😤😤
It does start a bit slow, especially if you aren't as invested in Patrick Wilson as I am 🙃🫠 but if you stick with it and pay attention to the subtle comedic elements in the meantime 👌🏻
This movie is not afraid to be a bit irreverent, which is a modern and mainstream rarity
Stretch and Charlie are so cute together; I wish more of their interactions had been kept in the final cut because when I think of the quality content that we missed 😩💖
"Who gains weight in their neck?" "Sexy people." "Three months of Rosetta Stone- I HATE THE FUCKING FRENCH." "We was gettin' all romantic, watching Titan-tic..." and so, so many more
Honestly, Karl is an integral part of this film as well- he may seem overtly cartoonish to some, but again, we get to know the main character better through him, as his presence gives us a visual of Stretch's inner struggle; he contributes to the dark humor vibe, and Ed Helms was clearly having the time of his life (as was the entire cast)
Speaking of which, stellar casting all around, especially those who were cast against type; love when directors give that stuff a chance. Everyone was made for their role
Dark humor, satire of Hollywood, homage to 80s films
The Navstar scene. If you know you know
Same goes for the post-Candace club exit scene with the valet, the wannabe rapper, and the sex club exit scene (there's a man wearing only balloons. need I say more). I mean, the whole movie is basically the best part and I'm trying not to make this review me just naming every scene and going "yes. this is good" but these are some of the most standout parts
The soundtrack may be atrocious overall, but the exception is the song at the end (although I was disappointed when I read that it was originally supposed to be "Telephone Line" by ELO but they didn't have enough in the budget because that would have gone so hard) 😩💕
Speaking of the ending, why is it so incredibly pure and sweet to me that it would almost make me cry if I weren't medicated? 🥺 Something about the setting of the diner, exuding vintage charm and glowing in the sun the quiet morning after the previous night of chaos, and the serendipity of how Stretch and Charlie finally reveal how much they've obviously liked each other for a while, and after all of the danger and depravity, everything ends soft and gentle and alright 😊💖
This film is somehow so sleazy and wholesome at the same time- against the backdrop of drugs, sex clubs, threats of violence, and constant swearing, it's ultimately a story about overcoming cynicism and self-destruction, getting your "mojo" back, taking control of your life, and allowing for the possibility that things happen for a reason ✨ Honestly? 10/10
#patrick wilson#stretch 2014#joe carnahan#chris pine#ed helms#jessica alba#brooklyn decker#action film#action movies#cult classic#cult film#cult movies#underrated movies#underrated#underappreciated
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Visit went really well, L is very nice with solid sense of self and determination. She's a carer on the local hospital alzheimers/dementia ward and has a refreshing positive approach that's neither infantilising nor pitying. I straight up told her how rare and special that is, psych carers who don't see their patients as full people piss me off so someone who actually enjoys their job and likes the patients? Yeah, gonna celebrate that.
She hates paperwork, keeps close ties to home though daily video chat but lockdown was rough until they found a place that had a garden, smaller space but less confining. Her husband's doing great, he's found a niche hooking up local restaurants and businesses with local produce. His psychosis was high level cannabis induced and waned as he detoxed in long mental hospital stay to make sure it wasn't the beginnings of something else. He was going through a depression found weed and got groomed by extremists in his paranoia. He's very lucky to be white, well spoken and have a mother who went to bat for him to not be criminalized but get mental help instead. I can't help but wonder how many second chances he got that my ex neighbours his age and less messed up didn't get for being poor and half north african though nearly passing physically, they never nailed that proper 'respectability' tone and body language.
Elisa, 4, was utterly adorable, whip smart, self assured and very at ease. She spends a lot of time with her grandma our friend J and is thriving. Baby Jack fell asleep a few minutes in, he's huge for 5 months and both kids have the most gorgeous big dark brown eyes. Elisa had insisted on the visit so she could meet the doggies and another Elisa(beth). This was Talia the chihuahua's first encounter with a child on home turf in close quarters and it went well until things got a little loud and Talia snapped just the once at Lily the dog as a way of releasing stress so I lifted Talia out of the little girl's way so she could refocus and come back if she wanted to engage. Within 10 seconds the wild fearful look was gone and she gradually returned to look at Elisa and let herself be petted but keeping an eye on an exit. Lily is the most chill dog I've ever had so she just lay next to the little girl and had a fisher price phone put to her ear and her back lump palpated just completely unbothered.
With L we were able to talk about culture shock and switching languages (mostly because i was thinking in English again and having to mentally translate which is the stupid way instead of brain switching to full french), island culture... though her island is considerably larger and more complex than the UK obviously. Then her and sis bonded over being little sisters and the joys of annoying big sisters. She's considerably younger so we're not really the right peers, I do hope she meets some nicer folks her age, maybe at kiddos preschool.
It's hard to tell if it was a pity visit or curiosity or if she made a new point of contact in town. Kiddo had a great time and our full attention. It's hard to tell when you're disabled until people follow up.
Talia passed the "multiple people including an inquisitive child" test without having a freak out so that's an excellent sign, it's odd seeing her wrestle with her very strong protective and fearful instincts. I've had dogs fight their prey drive, Lily is food obsessed to the point she'll forget everything else which is why I still have to test her on food theft regularly but Talia's natural state is like fight or flight and you can see her little brain whirring about all she's missing out on by being fearful.
We decided to unmask since we were all vaxxed and the windows were open and I'm really glad to have been able to lip read as L's french was dialectical (dialectic?) Keeping an eye on dogs and listening to lil Elisa chat away made it very hard to tune in properly to her mum. It helps the plague anxiety that her work took PPE and distancing very seriously from the start. I felt less uncomfortable than I have with most neighbours who have a "qué séra, séra" approach to illness (except for the three months after Granny M got covid and realised it was as nasty as her former husbands emphysema... then forgot) . I don't want to live in fear but I can't shake the memories of putting sis on the cpap 24/7 for a week and the first time I looked at myself and was yellow. Oh I had fructose sugar and real sugar today, we made low sugar gluten free chocolate cake - we'll see how well that went tomorrow.
#saf#Visitors#My_dogs#Training a teenage unsocialized chihuahua#Somebody get netflix to do french dubs that actually line up with mouth movements so i can reset my brain to french mode#I heard futurama in English for the first time today that was wierd anf uncanny.#Long post
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165
Saturday and I’m apologising to A for crying on FaceTime once again, this time over my feeling inferior for using backing tracks in my live show. There is, apparently, no blow to the ego too niche. If the previous chapter of my Zoloft withdrawal journey was dizziness and mild nausea, this chapter will forever be the one in which I chose to find anything wrong with anything I do or have done or plan to do and feel immense shame about it, and make A pay for that shame. We spend Friday night talking about a band he works with performing The Daily Show and how, since finding a choir and a sitar player for the show seems far fetched, they will have to resort to using a track. I tell A I use track for all of my songs except one, because of the vocal harmonies. “Yeah actually the last album cycle I did for my ex-girlfriend’s band we didn’t use any track. They’re more of a real rock band, you know?” And I spiral. And spiral and spiral. Don’t ask me why, I just do. I remember an older NPR interviewer once asking a young musician why she uses a click track and pre-recorded sounds in her live show, “surely you lose some of the magic, and it’s not a real performance”, he said, dramatically straining his voice to drive his sadness home. And of course this is a generational difference, and A is of a different generation. Gen X and up want rhythmic purism, everything played by hand. But as the musician fighting off the NPR veteran said, “look, I play every instrument on the recording, and I arrange it myself. So when I get a click, I deserve it”
I go to bed after we hang up and I cry over Love On The Spectrum, when two Australian autists get married and they are both so impatient to spend the rest of their lives together they are stimming at the altar. I sleep like a dead Victorian child. I wake at 9am to the sound of a man attacking a woman just outside my front door, her screaming and him begging her to “make a deal”. I consider calling the police, rubbing my eyes to loosen the crust that built up overnight. I hear another woman, a different woman, yell “CUT”, and I realise they are shooting an independent film on my terrace. After I meditate through the sounds of the same violent scene being performed again and again, I leave the house to find a 20 person crew huddled around a woman lying on my doorstep with makeup applied to her neck to look like bruises. “Hello”, says the director. I remember seeing a letter put through my door the day before telling me there would be a film shoot happening. I just didn’t imagine it blocking my exit to the studio. I scowl at every single member of the cast and crew, and ride away. What’s the point in home ownership if you can’t say “get off my lawn” with your eyes?
I paint as much as I can before C arrives for the catch-up session of the century. The last time we saw each other we were at The Book Of Mormon, walking through central London singing Turn It Off. He was dumped the following day, and spent the 5 weeks we were apart in an introverted depression. But depression for grown ups, which means still going to work and ironing one’s shirts despite the malaise. Different from young person depression, which is moving back home and eating Monster Munch from a bag balanced on one’s chest seeing no way forward. He shows me a video of a white woman with an Indian man talking on Tik Tok about all the crazy sex they had and then the Indian man with his hand on the Quran letting his family know the video was a deepfake and that he’s going to the police. I tell him the things about LA that are too impure for this blog, and my many ailments. “Egg freezing is just cryptocurrency for women”, I say, after a long conversation about having kids and not having kids. A woman at dinner will later tell me she can “see a glint in my eyes” that I am going to “bear children soon”. C went to Marseille and brought back stories about the people we grew up with and their tragic lives. One is living on French unemployment because it’s a better deal than actually working at bars. Another, who went to art school and got chlamydia, has run out of women to pretend he loves enough to live with them rent-free, and thus bought a giant van to call home. He plans to make its windows stained-glass, depicting fire, and with lettering that says “HOUSING CRISIS”. He will break into a lot and park the van there illegally, then weld the gate shut so nobody notices. Everybody else we know is a little better off, but they all still skateboard or rollerblade
I go home, shower, meditate, walk to dinner hosted by P. I am the only attendee not in journalism. We eat Israeli food and the restaurant owner checks on us and I feel momentarily star struck because I own all of his cookbooks and his are the only email blasts I don’t plan to banish from my inbox. Talk turns to the heyday of journalists’ expenses, everybody citing an article in Slate from the 1990s detailing the lavish lifestyles of Condé Nast editors. Apparently journalists kept New York restaurants afloat back then. Journalists are now poor. Very poor, when you take into consideration the important work they do. Some pieces are more important than others, of course, but far lazier and more immoral people in this world get better plane seats and nicer lunches for far less work. I know this is how the world works, but it shouldn’t. The way public libraries close down at weekends now but there is ample funding for police department dance teams. Everybody at the table sighs a long sigh. One guy is chasing a story about the owner of Sotheby’s auction house, says he finds the art world so fascinating. “You sit in these beautiful offices with amazing coffee while you talk to the most duplicitous person you’ve ever met”, he explains. I try to work out how much of my life he is describing. Maybe 30%, but only because I’m spectacularly lucky. If I’m going to be betrayed, I would rather it be in a comfortable chair. But I would also trade in every comfortable chair for a buckling spindly one if it meant I could trust everything everyone in the art world tells me. I am asked about the art market, and Larry, and why I don’t find it distracting to listen to podcasts while I paint. “I just don’t”, I say, and silently plead with my table mates not to ask me what podcasts I listen to. They do, of course, because journalists. I explain my love of Shane Gillis for ten minutes, stopping just short of defending Joe Rogan. I place a whole falafel in my mouth to signal that I’m done talking. I make everybody laugh, then P makes everybody laugh. I still have the hots for him, it turns out, perhaps less than before. I find myself looking at his crotch when he can’t see me doing it. I know I’m not at an art dinner because the bill comes and everybody throws their card at it. I scold myself for thinking this would be paid for, for being spoiled enough to assume it. It’s been a minute since I paid for alcohol I didn’t consume. It is raining when we leave the restaurant, and I walk with P in a small group, splitting off to go home. It rains on my phone as I make a dent in the crossword puzzle. I try A but not answer. I don’t blame him, honestly
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The European Union, India, the United States of America, and the United Arab Emirates all have something in common: they are all types of federations. Generally speaking, a federation is an organization in which multiple governments join under a central authority while retaining some degree of autonomy. This type of organization has played a more significant role in modern history than we may realize, especially in the history of Arab peoples in the twentieth century. The historical use of federations in the Middle East is incredibly relevant today as we witness the rise of new blocs and economic associations.
The 1920s was an intriguing decade that shed light on the practices of federalism in the formation of Arab states. Both European occupiers and local activists embraced the idea of federations when establishing new political entities after the collapse of the centuries-old Ottoman Empire. During that time, many activists saw a regional loose political-economic union (ittihad in Arabic) as the way out of the Ottoman Empire, rather than the nation-state model.
To understand the tumultuous Arab landscape of the 1920s, we need to look at the aftermath of World War I. The Allied Powers, primarily the British and French armies, along with their local ally, the Kingdom of the Hijaz (often forgotten today), occupied the Eastern Mediterranean and Red Sea regions that were previously under Ottoman rule. With the exception of the new Republic of Turkey, most of the Ottoman Asian and African provinces remained controlled by European imperial powers. Some regions were classified as Class A mandates of the League of Nations (where now we find Syria, Lebanon, Palestine, Israel, Jordan, and Iraq) and placed under British and French administrations. Other regions were under military occupation (such as the Alexandretta Sandjak, now part of Turkey, Egypt after 1922, the Sudan, Libya), and some were in contractual dependence on the British Empire (like Kuwait). The only fully sovereign entity under the League of Nations’ new law was the small Kingdom of the Hijaz and its holy cities in Arabia (which is now part of Saudi Arabia).
In this complex situation, ex-Ottoman Arab notables and European occupiers clashed over numerous issues while also sharing certain common visions, including the idea of federalism. However, this was not applicable to Palestine due to British policy, League norms, and Zionist settlement, rendering the establishment of a new State of Palestine that could participate in any kind of association impossible. The imperial approach to state-making in other regions involved the adoption of federative ideas, the denial of complete self-determination, the importance of religion as a fundamental norm, and often the establishment of monarchical regimes. Some may refer to this package as the “counterrevolutionary” logic of state-making.
Let us examine as an example what was known as the State of Syria and how its formation in the 1920s can be understood through the lens of imperial-federative logic rather than nationalism.
The roots of Syrian federalism can be traced back to the Ottoman era when plans for decentralizing the Syrian provinces of the empire were proposed in the 1900s and 1910s. Like in other empires, activists argued that the best way to exit the Ottoman Empire was through some form of autonomous government that maintained a looser relationship with the central authority. Modernizing bourgeois Ottoman Syrians were particularly invested in this path of reform.
Following World War I, an actual imperial federation emerged in 1918 when the Allied Powers occupied Ottoman Damascus through the British-affiliated troops of the Kingdom of the Hijaz. The convergence of two late Ottoman initiatives, one influenced by Islam and the other advocating for federalism, led to the creation of a federal Muslim kingdom known as the Kingdom of Syria, sometimes referred to as the “United States of Syria.” In March 1920, Hijazi activists and former Ottoman Arab army officers envisioned a new Muslim super-federation, this Syrian kingdom being in association with the Hijaz and Iraq.
It might seem that when the French army dismantled the emerging kingdom in the summer of 1920, they imposed the European nation-state model on the Arabs. However, the French army took a different approach and created also a federal project often known as the “States of the Levant” (officially, La Fédération des Etats Autonomes de Syrie). This federation consisted of mini-polities, including the State of Damascus, the State of Aleppo, the State of the Alawites. The Government of the Jabal Druze and Greater Lebanon were parts of it only in economic terms. While this federation served the purpose of French military control, it also continued the pre-war Ottoman regional federalism.
Even after the League of Nations’ mandates came into effect in 1923, the imperial-federative logic persisted in the Syrian regions. The League’s mandate only compelled the French administrators to modify their federative organization. As a result, the High Commissioner established the State of Syria in 1925 through an administrative act, uniting the Aleppo and Damascus states and granting some degree of autonomy to the Druze and Alexandretta governments. The eruption of violence, known as the great Syrian revolt, which was brutally suppressed by the French army, had both nationalist motives seeking self-determination and a connection to the reversal of previously granted autonomy.
By 1925, a nation-state of Syria had not yet emerged. But now the question arose regarding the political form of this new administrative State of Syria. The first article of the mandate from the League of Nations requested France to submit an organic law in agreement with the “native authorities.” The definition of this organic law led to many debates both among French administrators and between Syrians, for instance, who has the right to declare this law?
Finally, in 1928 an elected assembly of Syrian notables, closely monitored by the French, had the opportunity to discuss their constitution, and with it, the desired regime. Many expressed a preference for a monarchy, with suggestions even made for a Saudi prince to reign over the new Syrian government, forming a new monarchical association with the emerging Saudi state, which itself was a federation at the time. However, a group of bourgeois-nationalists in Damascus, horrified by this idea, pushed for a secular republic. In the end, they compromised and settled for a Muslim president. The territorial issue in the draft constitution led to a standoff with the French. Finally, the High Commissioner modified the points concerning territory in the draft constitution and, in a typical imperial manner, declared it in 1931. Consequently, the State of Syria became a local state, the first Muslim republic in the 1930s.
In 2023, as we enter a new era of blocs and associations, there is much to be learned from this historical momentum a hundred years ago. The federative idea, religion, the imperial military, and the consideration of monarchical candidates and regimes defined the political landscape. As we reflect on these issues, several questions arise: Did the form of nation-state finally take over the new Arab governments from the 1940s? What were the economic dimensions of Arab federalism? Why have some Arab federations failed, and why have others persisted? And what are the potential implications of reimagining federalist models to address contemporary challenges in the Arab world?
Adam Mestyan is associate professor in the History Department at Duke University. He is the author of Arab Patriotism: The Ideology and Culture of Power in Late Ottoman Egypt (Princeton) and Primordial History, Print Capitalism, and Egyptology in Nineteenth-Century Cairo.
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Maribat soulmates AU
I wrote most of it a year ago, but never got around to posting it. It’s probably been done before, but I’m a sucker for soulmate AU, so you people are getting it anyway.
Hope you all like it!
I apologize for any spelling or grammar errors, English is not my first language. I hope it’s still intelligible.
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General headcanons for the AU:
-Soulmates share the same skills set. When one knows how to do something, the other can do it too. They have the same proficiency, but it gets adapted to their body type, their way of life and their personality and behavior. (ex: Marinette and Damian can both use the katana, but they don’t parry the same way or use the same combinations of attacks.)
-They know when the skill they’re currently using come from their soulmate. It’s like a small acknowledgement at the back of their mind.
-When they meet face to face, they recognize each other immediately.
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-When Marinette really starts to talk, Arabic and Mandarin words are as present in her vocabulary as French words.
-Sabine is delighted that her baby girl’s soulmate has roots in her culture too. Tom starts looking up Arabic words to try to understand what she is saying. With only a baby pronunciation to get by, it is slow going.
-When Marinette is old enough to understand that she could speak Arabic and Mandarin thanks to her soulmate, she decides that it’s not a fair trade. She gets two languages from them and they only get one! She settles on learning Italian with Nonna Gina.
-Marinette is very agile and light on her feet.
-She knows that baking is her skill, but cooking is her soulmate’s. Every time she helps her maman with diner, she feels like someone is backing her up at the back of her mind. A warm presence easily overlooks. Like ‘oh yeah, it’s your skill. Thank you for sharing.’
-Arabic, Mandarin and cooking are the only thing she really gets from her soulmate. Or so she thinks. Assassin’s skills aren’t exactly useful in the day to day life of a French bakery.
-When she becomes Ladybug, she thinks that the acrobatics are thanks to the magic suit. Until she finds herself with a sword in her hands and suddenly, she isn’t so sure anymore.
-Ladybug’s suit includes a black utility belt made of little pouches with self-sealing flaps and full of all sort of things: zip ties, a gas mask (perfectly functional despite its small size – don’t question the magic), an infra-red flashlight, a fingerprint kit, skeleton keys, smoke bombs, flash bombs, a rebreathing apparatus, a miniature voice recorder, a basic first-aid kit. Everything is bright red with black polka dots. Even the zip ties.
-After a careful inventory of her utility belt, Marinette acknowledges that probably half of it is the result of soulmate influence. Tikki had told her that generally her Chosens only use their yo-yo and Marinette would never have thought of zip ties on her own.
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-Damian knows that he has a soulmate because he can speak French and Italian like a native when he only ever learnt Arabic and Mandarin.
-He scoffs at the thought of a soulmate. He’s an Al Ghul and his grandfather’s heir, he has no need for such frivolities. When he’ll met his soulmate, he’ll either recruit them for the League or kill them, depending on what his mood will be that day and their level of uselessness.
-He starts learning English when he’s nine following his mother’s orders. If he’s to be his father’s heir, he needs to be able to communicate with him and the various ‘children’ the man adopted over the years. He thinks his soulmate is helping him by learning English words he hasn’t learnt yet. He doesn’t dwell on it.
-It isn’t until he starts living with his father in Gotham that he starts to see soulmates in a new light. Richard Grayson’s soulmate is Starfire. Timothy Drake’s soulmate is Superboy. He can’t win against either of them. Maybe his soulmate won’t be useless after all.
-Damian has a hard time falling asleep in a house full of highly trained strangers at first. He starts exploring the Manor, before ending in the kitchen. Following instincts that aren’t his own, he makes chocolate-chip cookies. While preparing the dough, he can feel a warm almost-there presence at the back of his mind. He starts doing it every night. Sometimes he tries new recipes. They all turn pretty good. No one ever bother him.
(-They have all already checked the camera feed to see what he was up to. And if baking is relaxing him, they aren’t going to comment. He’s enough of a prickly porcupine, no need to put him even more on the defensive.)
-Damian grows to love his family. And maybe his soulmate, whoever they were.
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-Amelia Brody is Marinette’s class interpreter and tour guide for the duration of their school trip in Gotham. She’s cheerful and excited to show her city to those children. She’s a bit weirded-out by the class dynamics but put it down to French people, until it’s time to tour Wayne Enterprise.
-They’re just finishing touring the open-to-visitors part of WE when she realizes that Marinette is rooted to the spot and facing the ‘employees only’ elevators a few meters away.
“Marinette?” she calls, coming closer. “Is everything alright?”
The girl blinks at her, eyes wide, before looking back at the elevators.
“I-I don’t… I’m sorry… I just… Soulmate?”
Some of the other teenagers scoff.
“Quit making a scene, girl.” Alya rolls her eyes.
Amelia has been getting to know those children for days and she saw how Marinette was treated, how everyone believed Lila’s grand tales and it’s not her place to interfere, even less so when she doesn’t have the full picture, but when she sees Marinette force herself to take a step back, shoulders hunched up, she swipes out her phone to call security and informs them of the situation.
A few minutes later, a dark-haired man cheerfully joins them. Amelia is standing like a barrage between Marinette and the things her classmates are murmuring about the girl while Caline Bustier imitates a pot plant. (Amelia is going to write a long report on this class, just watch her). Still, Amelia is very relieved to see Dick Grayson. (She manages to keep the fangirling down to a mental squeal, thank God)
“So, you’re feeling your soulmate is upstairs?” he asks Marinette.
“I’m sorry,” she replies like a reflex, looking down at her shoes.
“Don’t be! Let’s go see if we can find them!”
Everyone piles up in the elevator. There’re so many people working at WE that the elevators are all very spacious.
It’s not quite a skill that make Marinette push the top floor button, but it’s not that different from muscle memory. Her soulmate has pushed this button so many times, that Marinette doesn’t even hesitate. Dick’s eyes lit up at her actions. After all there’s not a lot of people at the top floor who can be her soulmate. He doesn’t quite like the tone of her classmates even if he can’t understand what they’re saying, but the tour guide’s expression is a sign to behold, so he doesn’t think he’s imagining the insults.
-When the elevator’s doors open again, Marinette makes a beeline for the central office just as the door opens and a young man with dark hair and green eyes exits with a puzzled frown.
Their eyes meet.
“Hi,” Marinette blushes, incapable of looking anywhere else.
“Hello,” Damian replies, voice soft.
#yume writes#Maribat#Daminette#marinette dupain cheng#marinette x damian#ml x dc#Damian x Marinette#Maribat au
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one and done Part 3
A/N Hey guys so sorry for a late update but here we are!!!! The last part of the series! I really enjoyed writing this one and I hope you guys enjoyed as well! Let me know what you guys think please and also also also thank you for reading!🥰🥰🥰
Side note: I’ll come back and edit my brain hurts
Harry is engaged and having a baby but Y/N is just his best friend’s little sister.
Today’s warning: We are anticipating some heavy smut in this last part. Please prepare for a spitting, spanking, choking, and hair pulling kink, Male receives oral, unprotected sex and just shit like that y’know? I think there is begging in here too LOL OMG they almost had sex outside again but that’s just so inappropriate but yeah... I think that’s all. Oh yes, Y/N rides and just loves being a horny mess hehehe
Word Count: 11k // Masterlist // one and done PLAYLIST / Part 1 / Part 2
If there was one thing Y/N was excited about… it was her last summer of high school. As she reflected on her junior year, she was happy Harry and her were finally in a place where she could just reach out to him and be comfortable. Although they didn’t have labels, it was the last thing on their minds as they spent most of their free time together away from Ryan and any other nosy classmate of theirs. Harry also spoke about long roadtrips. Despite him staying home for college, he was excited to drive his girl to different campuses and check out new destination sites around the many different cities.
They were optimistic they would stay together in the summer yet here they are spending it apart.
Y/N was in her bedroom sitting on the floor wearing Harry’s sweater as she was staring at the pile of scattered clothes on the floor. It was July 6th and even after a month of grieving for her broken heart, she managed to still wear her ex’s sweater… only because it was the sole object that made her feel like what they had was real.
They were so on and off throughout the year and the one time they managed to stick together, it was all washed away. Too many signs telling them they were not meant to be.
But that’s the truth. Y/N thinks to herself as she wipes away a new coming tear falling down her face. Harry and her are not the cliché plot of dating your brother’s best friend. Their relationship was based on lust and ended with unrequited feelings. They are not soulmates. Y/N rests her head against the back of her bed. No matter how much you try to fight it, if you are not meant to be… that’s it.
“Are you okay?” Ryan stops by her doorway with a plate of late dinner. He was also blatantly oblivious to the fact his little sister was wearing a sweater of his best friend’s.
“Yeah, why do you ask?” She stares at him with an unamused expression on her face. Her room was a mess, her head was in places where it shouldn’t be and her heart just felt broken.
“You’ve been in a pissed off mood since last month.” he genuinely states as he walks into his little sister’s room. Maybe before he wouldn’t bother to ask Y/N how she was but the truth is, he is leaving soon and he’s a bit worried with the way Y/N has been taking care of herself.
“Is it that obvious?” Y/N sarcastically laughs as she throws some clothes away for Ryan to sit on her bed. He places his plate on her desk and takes her offer as he looks around the floor.
“You haven’t left the house nor have I seen Ness around.”
“I haven’t really been speaking to her.”
“Oh so you guys fought?”
“No, we didn’t. I just haven’t really been feeling social.”
“Y/N, you know you can talk to me right?”
“I know.” Y/N bites the inside of her cheek knowing full well that she’s lying.
“Will you be coming to the party tomorrow night?” Oh, that’s right. It’s Harry and Carla’s engagement party.
“That’s why I’m cleaning out my closet.” Ryan laughs a bit as he stands up and pats her head.
“You don’t have to impress anyone. You’re not the one getting married.” Y/N feels her throat tighten a bit as she watches him leave her room with his plate. She lets out a sigh before rubbing her face in frustration. If she had the choice, she wouldn’t go but that would also show Harry that she cares more than he thinks. It’s been a month and she had to prove that she was over him and over the deal.
After a couple hours of sulking on her bedroom floor, she finally stands up and takes off his sweater. In the corner of her room is a cardboard box of clothes that were to be packed away and stored in the attic. Without hesitation, she throws the piece of clothing and carries on with her night.
~
“Y/N, you look beautiful sweetheart.” Her mom waits for her at the bottom of the stairs. The sun was just about to set and it was also time for their family to drive to Carla’s home for the party everyone has been anticipating.
“Thank you.” Y/N musters a smile as she glances at herself in the mirror one more time before heading out to the car. Her mom was honestly surprised her daughter was all dressed up for the party tonight, there was something off about her but today, it felt like she had a piece of her daughter back again. Saying nothing out loud, she locks the front door and walks with the young girl towards the vehicle.
Truth be told last night before Y/N fell asleep, she knew today would be her biggest performance. All she knew is that she couldn’t wait for this day to end so she can go back and hide in her room.
“Hey mate.” Harry smirks as he offers a hug to Ryan. The party had just begun and Harry waited outside the house to wait for his best man to arrive. He was shitting his pants at the moment and the only thing that would make him feel a bit more comfortable at his own party is if Ryan was by his side -like the usual.
“I can’t believe you’re getting married, Haz.” Ryan tries to hide his disappointment in front of his family. Y/N and her parents stood behind him waiting for the duo to greet each other first. “I thought we would enjoy our bachelor era a bit you know… longer.” Harry tries to laugh as he makes eye contact with the pretty girl. Once the two pull away, he awkwardly laughs and greets Ryan’s parents.
“Carla is it for me man.” Harry tucks his hands inside the pockets of his trousers. “We’ve been together since grade school, I guess it’s time I tie her down to me forever.” Y/N’s mom laughs and pats his shoulder. The five began to walk to the backyard as she spoke up.
“Forget Ryan, I think you two make a lovely couple and are honest soulmates.” Harry glances at her and flashes a small smile. He thought having Ryan here would make him feel more comfortable but there was only one thought that was processing in his head as they walked the stoned pathway.
This engagement made him feel ten thousand times much worse knowing his in-law family wouldn’t be Ryan’s because the truth is there wouldn’t be anything much better than to have Y/N and Ryan’s parents as his too.
“Hi.” Carla approaches them with a warm smile on her face. The nude slim dress was impressive on her, especially as it made the diamond on her finger stand out more. She casually wraps her arm around Harry's waist as she takes a sip of the mango smoothie in her other hand. Although the smile on her face seemed genuine, Y/N wanted nothing more than to punch the girl’s face. If Harry was a jealous asshole, Y/N was much worse. Keep it together Y/N, please you don’t care. You don’t care.
That was the whole idea for the night anyway. Y/N has barely spoken a word since her father parked the car on the side of the road. She was even the last one to exit the vehicle because in all honesty, she didn’t want to unbuckle her seatbelt. Now, She stands beside her dad once again, shying away from the hosts of the party. Although her mom made her feel beautiful today, there was nothing more than to stand in front of the prettiest girl who has constantly been chosen over her.
“Thank you guys for coming. I’m so happy to meet you all.” Carla smiles as she turns her attention on Harry. She was happy and excited about their future. This whole night felt like a fever dream. Once more she looks at Ryan’s family and speaks up. “There’s a table for your family and dinner will be served out soon. I hope you guys enjoy” She rests her head on her fiancé but notices Y/N staring at her heels. “Are you okay Y/N? You seem a bit off.” And that statement was coming from a concerned person who was genuinely curious if the acquainted junior she got to know this year was alright. Y/N gulps as she makes eye contact with Carla. She was also very careful not to look at Harry.
“Ignore her. She’s been like that for a couple of weeks.” Ryan laughs as he turns around and glances at his sister. “This is your night but I still am wondering why you guys are getting married next month.”
Carla awkwardly smiles and waits for Harry to respond first yet she notices his eyes stay focused on his best friend’s little sister. “We just thought we should get the wedding out of the way before university starts.” Carla squeezes his palm for him to reply to.
“Don’t worry Ryan. I’m sure we’ll do everything we planned to do.” Harry smirks as he turns his back around to the music that just started to play. “Let’s walk you guys to your table, I believe the party is just about to actually begin.”
/
Throughout the night, Y/N did nothing more than fake a smile and applaud as speakers came to the mic and talked about Carla and Harry’s relationship. Blah blah blah. It was the same old thing really, and if she had the choice deep inside, she would wish she was the one sitting beside Harry talking about other things.
Dessert was finally available and due to the lack of activities and entertainment this party has brought to her, she waited until the line died down before she could carry her plate towards the table. She internally sighed as some of the choices were gone, leaving her to pick up a red velvet cupcake and two french macaroons on the side. Once she arrived back to her seat, her family that stayed back continued to talk about the two lovebirds. Her father and Ryan seemed to be having an amusing conversation as her mother made a new friend from the table beside them. Compliments after compliments was the only topic tonight, she really needed to take a walk around the unfamiliar neighbourhood after this.
“Guys, I’m just going inside to use the bathroom.” Her mom nods and acknowledges Y/N’s statement before turning her back once more to talk to another attendee of the party. Grabbing her purse, she excuses herself from the table and shyly walks around the party and towards the sliding door. Once she’s inside the home however, she ignores all the signs that gesture her towards the bathroom and instead makes her way to the front door. Carla’s home was pretty but not enough for her to stay.
“That’s not the washroom.” Harry speaks out as he walks down the staircase re-adjusting the sleeves of his polo. She realized the navy blue blazer he was wearing earlier today was now resting on the ottoman by the end of the railing.
“I was actually going to go on a walk.” She fixes her gaze on the painting in front of her instead of the boy casually making his way down.
“It’s a bit late, d-don’t you think.” He scratches his nose and picks up the article of clothing on the chair. He couldn’t help but stutter as his eyes followed the pink dress on the pretty girl.
“The neighbourhood seems really nice and I’m sure none of the rich families here are going to kidnap me and lock me in their basement.”
“Here.” She notices him walk towards her offering his blazer. “I would invite myself to walk with you but uh I think people would notice.” He rubs his palm against his neck and looks back at the door where the party is.
“It’s okay.” She shakes her head as she rejects his considerate offer. She continues to unlock the door before looking back at him. “I’ll be back soon. Ryan and my parents think I’m in the washroom. So if they ask, just say you don’t know. Congratulations, by the way.” She gives him a sad smile and walks out the door. He’s left speechless as he finally realizes this might be the last time things will be normal between them. “Fuck it.” He murmurs to himself as he rests the blazer behind his back and walks out the front door as well.
“Why are you following me?’ Y/N turns around carefully as she crosses her arms over her chest to keep herself warm. She was also trying very hard not to fall. Harry’s been distracting her all night, she didn’t realize she was wearing heels despite her goal to go on a night walk.
“Because I can’t let you walk around this neighbourhood by yourself!” Harry raises his voice as he tries to catch up with her. “God, I told you, you would need this.” He thoughtlessly puts the blazers over her shoulders as they walk down the slope.
“I promise you, I am not your responsibility anymore. You don’t have to be concerned about my whereabouts.” Y/N murmurs as she accepts the fabric and hugs it around her frame. Harry couldn’t help but look away from her as he heard that statement. Before everything went crumbling down, he used to pick her up and know every update from her. He used to watch out for her and just be there for her but even now, it was no longer okay.
“Who’s going to watch over you when I’m gone.” His voice is a bit more quieter now as they exit Carla’s neighbourhood.
“I don’t know. I always expected you were going to stay.” She glances at him before walking ahead of him.
“I know you’re mad and I’m sorry I had to put you through a lot.” He pulls her wrist to make her stop walking.
“How can I not be mad, Harry?” She closes her eyes, trying to not let the new formed tears in her eyes show. “You constantly choose Carla and the moment you finally break up with her. I get you and then you what… ghost me, break up with me? I don’t hear from you for 2 months only to find out you’re engaged! Fuck you.” She quickly wipes away a tear from her face. “God, I- You cheated on me! Didn’t you?”
“Y/N.” His heart beat drops as her voice raises. Never in his life has he seen Y/N this upset.
“No. It makes sense. Carla is barely even showing yet. It’s been three months and you…” She steps away from him and looks around. “I don’t know -you didn’t even have the audacity to tell me you don’t like me anymore.”
“I didn’t know how to react when you told me that.”
“Well you did.. You ignored my calls and continued to see Ryan.” She shrugs her shoulders and sarcastically laughs. “It’s fine. Now that I think about it, maybe I said it in the heat of the moment.”
“I know I messed up.” He bites his lip and runs his hand through his hair. “I don’t know why I reacted like that. Carla has always been so familiar to me… and with you, I don’t think I’ve ever felt like this before.”
“Like what?” The monotone question rolls off the tip of her tongue.
“The fear I guess. I’m scared of losing Ryan, your family and um, you.” He clears his throat. “It’s just there’s so much on the line when it comes to you and me. Maybe if I tried harder, we wouldn’t be here right now but we are.”
“Well if it makes you feel better,” She takes a pause and stares directly at him. “I didn’t really mean what I said that day. You freaked out on something that was a typical post orgasm statement.” She lies.
“Why are you lying?” He shakes his head in disappointment. “Why are you trying to hurt me? You think this hasn’t been difficult enough.”
“No, I’m not lying. It’s true.” She attempts to walk again but his hand grabs her immediately letting her know, their conversation is not over.
“So you’re saying you don’t love me.”
“No, I don’t love you.”
“Bullshit!”
“Harry, I don’t even owe you an explanation!” and sometimes when you force yourself to lie too much, you begin to cry. “Fuck.” He immediately hugs her as she cries on his shoulder. “I don’t think we should do this.”
“I could never leave you alone, you know that right?” He whispers in her ear as he wraps his arms tighter around her frame.
“You have to. We can’t do this.” Y/N repeats herself as she tries to pull away. His scent is just so fucking intoxicating. It was his scent that made her drastically attached to him and now she knew like from the start, it was time to go.
“If my wishes came true, it would’ve been you.” He tries to keep her in his embrace. He was rambling at this point but he had no idea what his goal was. Is he trying to persuade her to stay or to let her go?
“You made your choices, Harry. All you have to do is lie in it.” She pulls away and wipes away her tears. “We’re just these high schoolers that found a loophole in our deal. Carla though, she has always been the one for you.”
“You’re right though. I- I guess I always choose her in the end.”
“Make her happy H.” She gives a sad smile and shrugs her shoulders. Despite wanting to punch her face, Y/N knew the look in her eyes as she watched Harry. Carla was always madly in love with him and forever will be.
Harry and Y/N were just a glitch in the system.
“I hope I see you again. Maybe Christmas huh?” He looks down at his shoes as the girl gives him back his blazer.
“Maybe Christmas.” And without a word, Y/N walks back to the house leaving Harry to walk around the neighbourhood himself.
-
Harry and Carla had just gotten married and on the night of their reception, they announced their pregnancy. Y/N was there. She witnessed the smile on Ryan’s face, on her parents’ face and on Harry’s. Everyone was happy except for her.
The night left her to play with the food on her plate as it was her only source of entertainment. Broccoli grouped with the carrots suddenly being grouped with the steak. How about we make a snowman? To be honest, moping a bit too much at the event left her clueless to the fact the groom has been watching her all night.
It wasn’t a choice for him. Of course, he looked at other guests and spoke to Carla throughout the night but for some reason as he mindlessly ate his food and restated his vows to his wife, Y/N was the only thing his eyes could focus on. He’s been looking for her face in every room for a year and to be exact, nothing about his feelings has changed -Except tonight was the last day, he would ever feel like this again.
There were only three rules Harry gave himself tonight.
Rule 1: Don’t try and make conversation with Y/N.
Rule 2: Don’t beat the guy who offers her a dance.
Last but not least, Rule 3: Don’t tell her you love her.
And it was a success because he watched her walk out with an unfamiliar guy and come back with a flushed neck and red cheeks. He knew she totally got fucked in the washroom and all he did was take a sip of his glass as the fist on his lap began to form once again.
/
It’s been a week since and her whole house is a mess. She has been currently helping her brother move his things to the moving truck they rented. Her little grieving process was cut short due to the fact, things around her started to change so quickly. Ryan was on his way out of here. Harry and Carla were probably on an island, trying to make another sub baby and Ness started to come by more often.
The thing about her best friend is that Nessa understands space but she won’t let Y/N peacefully sulk for more than a month. To successfully distract her, the duo have been taking road trips around the cities and visiting different campuses together. Although it was an old plan of her and Harry’s, Y/N couldn’t help but feel delighted to have Ness back once again.
She cleaned out her room and removed all her old soccer trophies because for some odd reason, they reminded her of Harry. She even went to the measures of blocking his number and deleting pictures from their past dates off her phone.
She knew she wasn’t ready to let him go but he was now married, living in a new city with his own family. There was no other choice but to forget this shit happened.
Senior year was just about to begin for Y/N and if there was one thing she needed, it was a fresh start. No love interests, no heartbreaks. Just fun experiences before she leaves this hell hole.
After all, if you never bleed, you’re never going to grow.
~
3 years later…
“You’re going to be fucking late.” Ness throws a pillow at her best friend as she enters the room. “You have that plane to catch.”
“Fuck, what time is it.” Y/N murmurs as she could feel some drool on her pillow case.
“10:30.”
“Fuck!” She sits up immediately and grabs her phone. Her flight is leaving in an hour and God knows the traffic in Seattle. “Why didn’t you wake me up sooner!”
“Because your lazy ass wouldn’t wake up.” Ness walks out of the room and drinks her coffee. She was totally unfazed about her best friend panicking. “Relax.” Y/N gives her a death glare in return as she brushes her teeth in the kitchen. The two were very used to each other since they’ve not only been best friends for a long time but also roommates after moving to a new city.
“My brother’s wedding is in two days and I’m not even there yet.”
“Tell Ryan to choke for not inviting me, by the way.” Ness scrolls though the news feed on her phone as she casually bites into her bagel.
“Okay, I think I have everything.” Y/N walks out of her room in tights and an oversized sweater. “I really have to go.”
“You’re going to see him again, you know that right?” Ness really didn’t want to be the one to bring him up again but shit, Y/N looked like a dead zombie.
“It’s fine.” Y/N shrugs her shoulders. She couldn’t care less if she sees Harry again. “The last time I saw him, Carla and him were acting like total love birds at my mom and dad’s thanksgiving party.”
“That was like two years ago.” Ness tries to contain her laugh as she remembers their new pet names. Honey bunny and sweet treat. Oh to be in the honeymoon phase once again.
“Don’t think I forgot what you used to call Tom.” Y/N laughs as she rolls her luggage to the door.
“Shut up.” Nessa’s eyes widen as she throws a crumb at her. “That’s why I broke up with him.”
“Yeah, yeah. You better answer my call okay?”
“Yes babe, I know. I love you, take care!”
“Bye!”
And after the long haul of successfully boarding the plane, Y/N had five hours before she could finally see Ryan and his soon to be bride in Boston.
She was definitely nervous. The last wedding she attended was Harry’s and she knew full well how she badly coped with that. Not to mention how she calculated her schedule so she could “accidently” miss Ryan’s engagement party. Truth is, she doesn’t care about Harry but if there was any way she could try and dodge another awkward encounter...that’s what living in another city is for.
He also wasn’t really an ex but just a person in her life who managed to make her happy and sad at the same time. James had no idea who he was since she believed it was best to make that portion of her adolescence a secret. Just buried along with the other dreams she used to have.
After watching two movies and playing a random phone game, the plane finally landed. Y/N managed to brush her teeth and make herself look a bit more presentable after a heated run out of her apartment. Once she was at the pick up centre to grab her luggage, her heart beat began to increase signaling that she failed to neutralize her anxiety. Beads of sweat began to form on her forehead as she walked past the crowd of people. There was a constant voice in her head screaming at her to tell Ryan her flight just got cancelled. Unfortunately, Ryan was on time as she could picture his figure right outside the window of the airport.
“Hey.” Ryan smiles as he gives his little sister a hug. He saw her a couple months ago but time still makes everything different. He’s happy his sister is finally here.
“Hi.” Y/N tucks a piece of hair behind her ear as the wind blows by them. “I see you got a nice haircut.”
“I did.” Ryan laughs as he carries his sister’s suitcase into his trunk.
“I can’t believe you’re getting married Ry! I swear to god, it was only yesterday you were complaining to Harry about his wedding.” Y/N squints her eyes due to the sun shining directly at her. She uses her hand to cover the side of her face as she lets out a joke,“Are you sure about her?”
“Meghan? Absolutely.” Ryan shuts the door as they stand there. “ I didn’t know what Haz was talking about when he told me he wanted to marry Carla but shit, when I met Meghan… I-”
“You’re whipped more than ever.” She smiles as she notices her brother’s cheeks flush. She tried to change the topic immediately after her brother said his name. “I knew Cassidy wasn’t the one.”
“Sure you did.” Ryan rolls his eyes as they sit in his car. “How about you? Any new updates?”
“No not really.” Y/N shrugs her shoulders as she puts on her seatbelt. “James and I have been together for a year now which is crazy-”
“I wish the guy could have come to the wedding, didn’t know how serious you guys were.”
“Honestly, if he didn’t have that internship at the hospital, I would’ve tried and persuaded him some more.”
“It’s okay.” Ryan laughs as he shakes his head. “Meghan found you a date already and I’m sure you’re going to be okay with it.” Y/N eyes widen.
“I was going to go stag.” She looks out the window in disbelief. It wasn’t her fault, her boyfriend was trying to get into medical school.
“Don’t worry sis. It’s a platonic date -that’s all it is going to be.” Ryan reassures her as he drives out of the parking lot.
“Let me tell James. Just in case, he might get jealous.” She pulls out her phone. “Who is this guy anyway?”
“I’m not telling you but who knows, James might fly over here just so you don’t go with a random guy.” Ryan smirks as he exits the highway.
“Who is he?”
“It’s a surprise.” Ryan tries to hide his laugh.
“Does he know you’re setting me up with him.”
“Please.” Her brother scoffs. “The guy is always too nice, he offered first.”
“Well, shit then.”
“You’ll get to know him before the wedding I promise. At least, you have company other than mom and dad.”
“So you’re going to let a random guy just sit at our table?”
“You have no idea.” And truth be told, Y/N wasn’t worried about the date Ryan and Meghan set up for her. Maybe it was one of Meghan’s family members who thought she was still single. It didn’t matter though because this event was for her brother and that’s all that was important.
“Oh my god!” Ryan and Y/N’s mother stood outside the house waiting at the driveway for them to arrive.
“Hi mom!” Y/N gives her a warm hug. “I missed you, where’s dad?”
“He’s inside with-”
“Y/N.” Y/N’s dad steps through the doorframe and meets Y/N at the steps for a hug as well. She knew her father couldn’t walk that much due to his recent hip surgery. What she didn't expect however, was for Harry to be following right behind him. “I missed you darling.”
“Hi dad I missed you more, I didn’t know Harry was here.” Y/N backs away and turns her back to look at Ryan. He didn’t seem surprised at all as he carried her luggage towards them.
“Hey.” Harry offers a small wave, seeming too quiet. He kept his hands behind his back as he observed the girl in front of him. It’s been two years and a lot has changed. Y/N thought he would still have his long hair yet it is very evident, he had a haircut as well. He also seemed much more muscular as well as the new addition of tattoos on his arm. While she stared at him, she didn’t realize Harry was noticing all the different features she had too. Her hair was longer and darker and she carried a different aura than before. She didn't look like the girl whose bedroom he used to sneak into.
“Hi Harry.” Y/N didn’t know how to start a conversation with him.
“I guess you met your date.” Ryan walks ahead of them and laughs as he continues to bring in the bags.
“Harry's my date?” Y/N asks in shock as she follows him behind. Her mom slaps her arm as Harry and their dad follow.
“Don’t act offended, You’ve known Harry since you were a kid.”
“Aren’t you married though.” Y/N turns her back and looks at Harry before facing the front again as she suddenly became distracted by the house’s decorations.
“I actually got divorced.” Harry bites his tongue right after.
“See, now look what you did. You embarrassed the young boy.” Y/N’s mom rubs his back as she murmurs to him. “I’m sorry, Haz.”
“Oh, it’s okay.” He shakes his head, trying to act as if the topic didn’t make him feel uncomfortable.
“I’m sorry too.” Y/N finally looks at him once more. “I had no idea.”
“It’s been a year. That’s what happens when you marry too young.” He laughed it off but everyone ignored that statement as they all knew there was a deeper cut in his heart.
When Carla was around 5 months, she had a miscarriage and although, they claimed they would try again… there was no new announcement after that.
“Y/N, this is your room.” Ryan tries to change the topic as he scratches his head.
“Thank you.” She steps inside for a bit of privacy after a long flight. Ryan and Harry along with her parents went back to the living room to go and continue their movie.
~
Today is Ryan’s wedding and the house was giving her many little flashbacks of Harry’s. The family was in this foreign home and was still running around getting ready. Her mother was screaming at her dad as he decided last minute to steam his suit. Ryan and Meghan were gone which left Harry and Y/N the only victims to her mother’s loudness. The two kept quiet as her mother ran around the house doing her hair and calling relatives for updates. Y/N managed to be ready on time so it let her sit on the couch looking at the photos in which mehgan has framed around the room.
“Your dad said I should drive you to the venue now. I think they’re definitely running late.” Harry speaks up after two days of ignoring her. The truth is last night when he went to the kitchen he saw Y/N sitting down on one of the counters and maybe if it was three years ago, he would’ve spoken to her but something about now told him to go back to his bedroom. He used to feel comfortable around her but now he’s walking around her as if he was on eggshells. He was so fucking nervous.
“Okay.” She agrees with him. Harry was the best man and she didn’t want him to be late because of her parents. Y/N puts her phone in the purse resting on her shoulder as she follows him out of the house. She would’ve been a bit more calm if she didn’t end her call with James midway through their fight.
“Um A-Are you okay?” He opens the door for her as he tries not to check her out. It was definitely difficult however as the way her long hair was styled and the pretty dress she wore. Luckily for Y/N, while Harry was doing some errands at home, she managed to “observe” him in his suit.
“Yeah, I’m good.” She lets out a small smile as she realizes Harry was still driving his car back from high school. You know the vehicle they had sex i-
“Alright.” The man breaks her out of the thought as he starts the car. “I promise tonight isn’t going to be weird around us.”
“Who said it was?”
“I don’t know I guess I just assumed.” He bites his cheek as he glances at her. That’s when the déjà vu hits and he feels like he’s eighteen years old again. She keeps her eyes on the road yet she had no idea that Harry was picturing her seventeen year old self sitting in the seat beside him. One of his favourite memories to be exact.
Flashback*
“So you’re kidnapping me to go camping in the woods.” Y/N smiles as she watches the unfamiliar road in front of them. Harry takes his shades off and passes it to the girl as he notices the sun is shining much more brighter than before.
“Hey, you got permission from your parents.” He smirks at her as he keeps his hand on the gear stick.
“They think I’m sleeping over at Nessa’s.” Y/N laughs as she puts on the shades and looks at him. His cheeks turn red as he catches the sight of the pretty girl wearing everything of his.
“Is little Y/N scared of the dark?” His hand smoothly travels to her thigh.
“I am not.” Y/N chokes on her breath. It was bad enough Harry looked so hot whilst he was driving.
“I think you are.” He notices her breathing becoming a bit more short. “You and me in a tent alone in the dark.” His hand goes a bit more south, gipping her inner thigh.
“I have a surprise for you.” She blurts out. She was also seconds close to making Harry pull over to the side of the road.
“And what is that?”
“I’ve been wearing a plug and I’m ready.” The speed of the car increases a bit as he mindlessly presses his foot to the sound of her voice. He looks at her one more time before taking over the car in front of them.
“Fuck then. My baby once again proves that she isn’t as innocent as I thought.”
End of flashback*
The venue was beautiful. Ryan and Meghan chose this beautiful garden that had tulips growing everywhere. The white gazebo was obviously where the wedding would take place as the reception was only a stoned pathway ahead. Since Harry was the best man and Y/N was his date, she managed to follow him around the place as he spoke to the event planner and the maid of honour. She had a whole tour of the location as Harry spoke about the party’s process to her. Not only that, but he was an amazing date -he kept his hand on her back and introduced her to people she didn’t know.
Currently, she was sitting on the bench watching Harry talk to some familiar faces. They seemed like a few boys Ryan and he would hang out with back in high school. She was mindlessly watching him laugh and smile throughout the conversation until she didn’t realize he was already staring at her. After excusing himself, he walked back towards her.
“I’m sorry, If I’m boring yeh.” Harry rubs his neck as he sits down beside her. The wedding was about to start in a couple of hours.
“No, you’re not.” Y/N laughs as she keeps her eyes on the lake behind him. She suddenly remembers their camping trip. She shakes her head at the thought and shrugs her shoulders. “How are you feeling?”
“About the wedding?” He pulls down the sleeves of his dark grey suit. She nods her head and waits for him to continue. “I’m happy Ryan is marrying Meghan. It’s funny how he thought he would stay single for long.”
“I remember him telling you that when you were engaged.” She bites the inside of her cheek. She definitely just put her foot in her mouth again. She was definitely known for that but Harry didn’t seem fazed at all about her statement.
“I mean don’t get me wrong, Weddings are a bit difficult to attend at the moment just because I know mine didn’t end well but um…” He clears his throat and faces himself more towards her. “I also got married knowing I wasn’t really in love with the girl.” Y/N finally looks at him as she watches the familiar green eyes say the truth.
“I know.” She nods her head again. “Things are different now and I hope you do find the girl that you are 100% about.”
“Yeah.” He looks at the patch of flowers in front of them. He would tell her what he thinks but he knows she’s dating someone.
“Let’s go check out your brother.” Harry stands up and offers his hand out. “I’m sure he’s wondering where we are.”
And so the event continued. Y/N’s parents arrived and so did the other guests. The beautiful girl in her wedding dress walked down the aisle and Harry couldn’t keep his eyes off the girl sitting in the crowd.
It was simple for him, he knows he’s not over her but he wouldn’t tell her that.
Would he tell her that he started coming home more after Carla’s miscarriage in hope of seeing her? No.
He definitely can’t tell her that he was hurt. He would come over to their house only to find out she wasn’t home or when he found out she was moving to Seattle for college.
After the past two years, Ryan briefly mentions her and James and he felt like he no longer had a chance. At least with her.
So standing beside Ryan as his best man felt like a total shot in the heart because Harry knew he wasted his time and lost the girl as well.
Y/N catches his eyes watching her and just for a moment, she wished things were different too.
~
When the reception started, Harry and Y/N along with her parents sat at one of the tables close to the bride and groom
The hosts were right however, as Harry fit perfectly with the family. Throughout dinner, he made jokes and started conversing with her parents more than she thought. Although he gave her some attention, he didn’t fail to compliment her mother as well.
The two sat together eating dessert as he leaned over to whisper something in her ear. “I’ll let you have a bite out of my brownie if I can steal a bite from your cake.” Harry smirks as he takes a sip of his glass of tequila. He wasn’t trying to get drunk but a little strong (strong) alcohol should cause no harm. Y/N casually steals the glass from his hand and takes a sip as well.
The two were finally much more comfortable with each other after spending the day side by side. Harry laughs as he takes his fork and steals a bite of her cake. The red velvet flavour melting in his mouth as he watches the girl swallow the rest of his drink.
“Sorry, I’m a bit quenched.” Y/N laughs as she puts the glass down and stabs her fork back into her cake. His fork immediately swats hers away.
“I’m not done with my bite.” He teases her as he pulls the small plate towards him. Y/N mouth drops.
“You guys fight like children.” Her dad speaks up and smiles at the scene in front of them.
“He asked to steal a bite but he stole the whole plate.” She laughs as she watches him shove numerous tiny bites in his mouth. Y/N mom laughs as she smiles at the cheeky boy.
“I said you can have some of my brownie but you proceed to finish my drink.”
“You seem a little drunk anyway.” She lies as she leans forward to take the brownie from his plate.
“Want some shots.” Harry blurts out as he finishes the dessert. “You finished my drink so I’m heading back to the bar… you still might be a bit quenched.”
“Okay.” She laughs as the two excuse themselves from the table.
~
“Do you remember the scrunchie on my wrist and you called me out on it.” Harry slowly dances with Y/N as the night continues on. The event was almost over but all the attendees were on the dance floor dancing to Kiss Me by Ed Sheeran. As a proper stellar date, Harry didn’t hesitate to ask the girl for a dance as he knew last time he missed out.
“I know you stole it.” Y/N laughs as she unconsciously rests her head on his shoulder. The truth is when in doubt, Y/N always drinks a bit more than usual. It seems whenever Harry is around, she can’t help but be drunk.
“Oh really?” He pulls away and laughs. “I was going to tell you an old story but you already know.” Y/N rolls her eyes as she looks at the people surrounding them. Nobody was shocked to see how close they were dancing. Everyone was in their own little bubble and maybe if Y/N and Harry didn’t break the ice or drink a bit, they would definitely not be as bold as they are right now.
“No! You have to tell me now.” Her eyes widen as she readjusts her hands on her shoulders. Harry smirked at her anticipation as he willingly rests his hands back on her waist.
“It was the first night we made the deal.” He whispers quietly hoping no one would hear them. “It was on your vanity and I took it after you sleepily threw my clothes at me.” They both laugh at the old memory.
“I saw you wearing it during the game.”
“So did you always watch me back then? Probably just wanted to get into my pants.” Y/N cheeks flush as she hides her face away from him.
“You’re acting as if I never caught you staring right back at me.”
“True.” he twirls her around. “Couldn’t keep my eyes off you after that deal you offered.” Y/N immediately pulls away after he hears the statement roll of his tongue.
“Harry, I know tonight has probably been the most normal conversation we had with each other but… We can’t go back there.” She walks off the dance floor, making him follow her without hesitation. Instead of going back to their table however, she makes a b line to the unlighted pathway of the garden.
“Hey, don’t go. I’m sorry I ruined the moment.” He unbuttons the top of his vest seeing his blazer was still on his chair. “I spoke about fight club-”
“You remember that?” Y/N slows down her speed and turns around. “It’s been three years and you still remember it?”
“Why don’t you?” Harry turns his back around to notice the bushes covering them from the rest of the party.
“Of course I do but you got married and moved away. I just thought that would slip your mind.”
“Well it didn’t.” He musters up a small smile and shrugs his shoulders. “Look, can we go back to the party and pretend I didn’t mess this up.”
“It’s not about you messing up H. It’s the fact that I still get flashbacks of you and I -and seeing you here again is making me feel like the past three years didn’t happen.”
“I didn’t see you during Christmas.” He blurts out as he watches her sigh. “Any holiday except thanksgiving to be exact.”
“Well, I moved to Seattle and couldn’t book a flight home every time of the year.”
“Carla is dating someone new.” Y/N nods her head. “And I’m still not able to get you out of my head.”
“You might just ghost me next time around.” She lets out a sarcastic laugh as she tries her best not to trip over herself as she walks a bit further into the pathway.
“I told you I regret doing that.” He continues to follow her. “It’s been three years and you’re still mad about it.”
“I’m not mad. I’m just saying whenever it’s you and I, you tend to ghost me and run back to Carla.”
“If it makes you feel better, I could give a fuck less what Ryan thinks of us. It’s why I asked him if I could be your date.”
“I have a boyfriend Harry! An actual boyfriend who waits for me after work everyday. A boyfriend who actually replies to my calls-”
“He hasn’t even met Ryan or your parents!”
“And-”
“Look Y/N, all I’m saying is I don’t care about this fucking guy!” Harry sternly walks towards her until he backs her up to a wall of vines.
“Then why are you trying to talk about our old memories and shit like that.”
“Because,” He pauses as he thoughtlessly rests his hands on either side of her head. “I fucking care about you. The moment Carla had a miscarriage and she needed me the most, I needed you! I didn’t realize I let you go the moment I went back to her.”
“Harry…”
“So it’s true, you didn’t love me.” He pulls away but Y/N brings her hands up to his face to keep his eyes on her.
“Of course, I did.” Y/N cries as she shakes her head in disbelief. “Why would you think that would be true? You called me out on it before.”
“I came back every couple of months hoping to see you at home with your parents. You were always gone.”
“Did you actually?”
“Fuck.” He pulls away and runs his hand through his short hair. He swore he would never tell her this. Is this how desperate he is now. “Yeah, of course I did. I knew you would leave for college but I wish I knew from you.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s not even your fault.” He laughs as he hugs her. “I want you back.” His arms wrap around her much more tightly than before. “Please.”
“James-”
“Do you love him?”
“Harry, don’t ask that?”
“No, I want to know.”
“Well I don’t know because after what you did-”
“Then you still love me.” He looks up at her in hope she would say yes. Just admit it, please.
“Okay and if I do -what do I do now? I like James and although it hasn’t been long I’m sure something will change.”
“Can’t you see?” He directs her back to the wall of vines. “You were always mine the same way, I was always yours.”
“The loophole of our deal.” She mumbles out loud as her hands mindlessly hold onto his forearms.
“The deal has always meant more to me than it should’ve.” He whispers as the sound of music and distant chatter is the only thing they can hear.
And I want to tell you everything
The words I never got to say the first time around
And I remember everything
From when we were the children playing in this fairground
Wish I was there with you now
If the whole world was watching I'd still dance with you
Drive highways and byways to be there with you
Over and over the only truth
Everything comes back to you
“Just kiss me already.” Y/N watches him as she lets out one more breath. Without hesitation he kisses her as the grip on her waist tightens. Y/N’s hands immediately play with the curls that reach the nape of his neck.
“Fuck, I missed you.” His soft lips rub on her left cheeks as he rubs himself on her. His hands begin to wonder in disbelief that she’s in his arms again. Her scent clouding his thoughts that they haven’t even noticed they’re still at a party.
“I want you.” Her hips raise itself on him as she rests her back on the cement behind her. “Harry, please.”
“We’re going home.” He bites his lip as his eyes darken. Without even thinking of what others would say, he mindlessly holds her hand as they walk out of the secluded space. The two didn’t bother telling anyone they were leaving the party as he basically dragged the poor girl to his car.
“Do you even know how to get inside Ryan’s house.” She giggles as she keeps herself close to his arm. He takes his blazer and rests it on her shoulders back like a few years ago.
“I have my ways.” He smirks as he helps her inside the vehicle.
This whole event felt like déjà vu. The wedding, the car ride, the quick secret escape from a party just to have sex. If there was one thing Y/N and Harry were good at, it’s probably how good they were at keeping themselves as a secret.
“I’ve missed you more than I thought.” Y/N bites her lip as she rests her head on the seat, watching Harry drive.
Him in his suit too focused on driving them home made her want to fuck his brains out. Truly.
Harry’s cheeks flush as he takes her hand into his. “I’m no longer that frat boy you used to know. I’m much nicer.”
“Oh really, in what ways?” she smirks as she eyes the growing bulge in his pants.
“I promise you won’t be able to leave my room tonight that’s for sure.”
“Then I’m happy.”
/
Moist air, dark night, and bodies clinging to each other as Harry struggled to open the front door. As the groom’s best friend, of course he had keys to his house. Y/N couldn’t help but keep her hands on his slim torso as there was something about just holding them that was driving her crazy.
“Fuck, your parents are going to wonder where we are.”
“I don’t fucking care.” Y/N licks the side of his neck before running inside. She’s trying to laugh quietly as she attempts to take off her heels. Harry being the responsible one, he texts Y/N’s dad they went home. Afterwards, he stops by Y/N’s room to lock it before he follows the girl into his room.
Once he locks the door, he realizes Y/N managed to take all her clothes off as she laid on his bed. “For fuck’s sake.” He mumbles to himself as he forgot how horny and crazy Y/N can be. He rubs the slight stubble on his chin as he watches the girl bite her lip and roll in his sheets. “You’re such a little devil aren’t you?”
“Like I said I missed you.” She fakes her confidence as Harry crawls up to meet her on the mattress. His finger takes the lip out between her teeth as his lips move forward to kiss her once again. His goal was to lay her down and kiss her naked body but it seemed like Y/N had other plans in mind. Her arms push him away as she kneels on the mattress. Keeping her eyes on him, she unbuttons the rest of his vest before spreading her palms over where his heart beat. Harry is speechless but the moment she began to unbuckle his belt he had to say something.
“Oh I see.” He smiles as his hand holds Y/N’s chin to his face. “I thought my girl really did miss me but it seems like she missed my dick a bit more huh? You want it?” He grips her face a bit harder as her hands maintain on his waistline. She nods shyly as she tries to continue her action.
“Fine, do what you want but I’m not done with you yet.” His voice softens as his hand immediately brushes the soft hair away from her face. His green eyes watch her drool over him as she unzips his pants. His hands on the flip side continued to remove the white long sleeve off his body. “Take it in your mouth. I know you’re dying too baby.” Y/N cheeks turn red as her tongue peaks out to kiss his hard cock. The funny thing is, she couldn’t keep her eyes off him despite being a horny mess. Sex was never the same if it wasn’t with harry and that was a fact because the moment she put him in her mouth, he pushed himself harder until he could feel the back of her throat.
The constant humming and gagging sounds wasn’t enough for him because the moment he pulled himself out of her little wet hole. He pulls her hair harder to keep her eyes on him. Without even hesitating, he spits in her mouth and puts his dick back in. From the way Y/N’s eyes rolled back, he knew full well that this was his girl and some things don’t change...especially the way she reacts to him.
“Are you going to let me fuck your mouth baby?” He moans quietly as he softly strokes her scalp. “How many times are you going to make me cum huh?” Y/N chokes a bit as he thrusts himself at a faster rate. “Always so pretty aren’t you dove?” He pulls himself out and slaps her tit. “What do you want me to do?” He whispers as kisses her lips once more. His mouth thoughtlessly kisses down the side of her neck as his hands press and grope on her tits.
“I want you everywhere.” His eyes watch her dilated ones as he slowly pushes her down the mattress.
“Hm, I don’t think you want to as much I thought?” He teases her as one of his fingers pops into his mouth and later into hers.
“You want me to beg?” Her tongue swirls around his digit as she lays helplessly on his pillows. “Never.”
“Never?” Harry laughs as his wet fingers pretended to walk down her body to her heated centre. “When did my baby become such a brat?” The devious smirk plays on his face as his tongue licks the side of his mouth.
“I’ve always been a brat.”
“Oh, so you don’t want me to fuck you is that what you’re saying?” His hands immediately stop teasing her as he begins to jerk himself off -slowly but surely.
“I do.” She tries to sit up but his hand pushes her back down immediately. “Harry, please?”
“Is that you begging me?” He laughs as his thumb wipes a bead of precum on his dick. “I would rate that three out of ten, Extra point because good girls say please.”
“Baby...” Y/N moans out as she tries to reach for him but Harry’s hands immediately grabs them and places them above her head.
“Just beg a bit better and maybe you wouldn’t have to work so hard, love. You said it before so show me you want me.”
“Daddy please fuck me.”
“Like music to my ears.” He spreads her legs open and pushes himself inside her. “Fuck.” It’s always the condom that gets to him.
“No, stay.” She whines as she holds onto his wait. “Please, I’m on birth control and James and I don’t really-”
“What?” His eyes widen as he bites the inside of his cheek. “What did you say?”
“He’s an intern at this hospital so he’s just always been busy.” She whispers in embarrassment. Don’t get her wrong, she has sex just not as much as she thought she should.
“Fucking hell.” He mumbles as he thrusts himself a bit harder into her. “No one has taken care of you in a while huh?” He bends down and kisses her again. The soft wet licks stay longer as he hears the beat of her heart. It was beating fast just like his.
“Mhm. Please Harry just fuck me.” She cries out as she takes his fingers back into her mouth. His thrusts become harder and harder as he watches her face cry in pleasure. “Oh daddy, fuck.”
“So fucking good. You’re such an angel oh shit.” His palm immediately chokes her. He couldn’t help but watch how her tits move up and down due to the force he’s putting into her.
“Let me ride you.” Her hips thrust up and meet him. Her mouth opens wide at the feeling.
“You sure about? Sure you can still take me?” His hand gives her a little slap to the cheek.
“Of course I can.” Y/N smirks. Harry immediately pulls himself off her as he lays down on the mattress himself. “You think I’m going to let you fuck me all night long. I’ve been wanting to fuck your brains out.”
“Y/N,” He smirks as he watches her straddle him. “You think you can fuck my brains out? You seem pretty fucking confident, baby.” He flicks her nipple which makes her press herself deeper onto his dick.
“I can.” She closes her eyes as Harry watches the moonlight shine on her face.
“Yeah, then show me.” He slaps the side of her thigh more harder than before. “Fuck me. Just use me then.”
“Just promise I’ll be a good girl, daddy.” her hands slide down to his waist.
“Promise.” He bites his lip and watches their wet desperate centres meet.
And in that moment, there was nothing but lust in their eyes as they fucked back and forth. Y/N moaning as Harry continued slapping her ass. He couldn’t help but thrust his hips as well due the fact there was nothing better than feeling Y/N’s desperate pussy clenching for more.
“Go on all fours.” He cries out after a few more rounds. Y/N wasn’t lying since she definitely fucked his brain out. There was nothing on their minds other than jumping each other’s bones over and over again.
Once she’s in position, he slaps her ass once again before putting himself back in.
“Oh god, shit baby.” Y/N bites the end of his pillowcase as she keeps her hands on the headboard. “You’re so big, I can’t anymore fuck.”
“I know you have one more in you, come on baby.” He pulls her hair and slaps her ass once more.
“Fuck!” She moans out as she feels his wet spit travel down her pussy. Harry immediately thrusts harder as the sweat on his neck begins to bother him. His thrusts were becoming sloppy but he needed Y/N to cum one more time.
“God, fuck me.” Harry moans out as Y/N finally cums one more time around him. Without even thinking, he releases himself inside of her and pulls her hair harder one more time. She immediately falls down as she can’t feel a thing. Harry felt her clench around him despite his need to pull himself off her.
“Baby, you have to let go.” He kisses the back of her shoulder and grips the side of her waist.
“Please don’t go.” She cries out and wipes her tears on the pillowcase. Harry slowly pulls himself off and lays on the bed beside her. He puts himself back in and wipes her tears away. His arm pulls her closer to him as he whispers one more thing into her ear.
“I love you.”
~
“Glad to see you two are awake.” Y/N’s mom waits in the kitchen as she makes pancakes on the stove. “Ryan and Meghan left last night right after the reception.” She suspiciously keeps her eyes on the two as they walk together to the breakfast table. “Harry, thank you for leaving the door unlocked. We came home around one last night.” Oh shit did they hear us? Y/N looks at Harry who seems bothered as he takes a sip of the coffee in his mug.
“I didn’t hear you two.” She brings the plate to the table. “If you’re wondering Y/N.”
“Mom, it’s not what-” Her cheeks flush in an embarrassment.
“Oh please, don’t bother lying. I already lied, Harry was the one who opened the door for us.” She laughs and rolls her eyes. “And Harry, don’t bother giving me an excuse. It makes sense.” She sits down with the two of them. “You always kept visiting us back home and the way your eyes watched her when she came here after her flight gave it all away.”
“Not to mention, you answering the door shirtless and Y/N not responding when we knocked on her door last night.” Y/N’s dad appears with a newspaper in hand.
“Does Ryan know?” Harry looks at Y/N and puts a pancake on her plate. Does her parents even know she’s wearing his clothes?
“Ryan saw you two leave together.” Y/N’s mom laughs. “Don’t worry, it was him and Meghan’s idea to also try and pair you guys together.”
“Wait so he’s okay with it.” Y/N speaks up after murmuring a thank you to Harry.
“Of course he is, Y/N. You guys are no longer teenagers right? So make your own choices for Christ’s sake.” Her mom states in disbelief.
“Did you know I’ve been seeing her back in high school?”
“Harry.” Y/N’s dad’s tone changed. Sounded a bit like disappointment.
“Oh god, there is more to the story?” Y/N’s mom rolls her eyes. “Alright, eat up everyone, you two have to tell us everything.”
~
“So this is it.” Y/N smiles as she sits in his car. The two were currently at the airport. “I had no idea, you relocated to Boston. It makes sense why you had so many things in your room back at Ryan’s house.”
“Yeah, I transferred last year. I’m hoping to finish here, graduate and then see what else I can do.”
“What do you think this means for us?” She puts her shades on as she pulls on the sleeves of her light sweater that she was wearing over her collared shirt.
“It means that this is when I ask you if you would please be my girlfriend.” Y/N’s cheeks flush and she hides her face in her hands.
“Are you for real?” She laughs.
“Yes.” He smirks as he keeps his hands on the steering wheel.
“I will be your girlfriend, Harry.”
“Good. You’re breaking up with James right.” Y/N rolls her eyes and nods.
“I’m ending it with him, the moment I land back in the city.”
“Make some space, I might move there.” He lightly jokes but there was some truth in it. Meghan and Ryan were married, there was no need for him to take up some space in their house.
“Sure, you’ll love Seattle and Ness is there too.”
“I like that. Will you introduce me to your ex?” Y/N laughs as she opens her door.
“No.” but right before she can get out, his hand pulls her back in for a kiss. Once their lips touch, he looks at her once again.
“I love you.” He genuinely states as he watches her eyes melt in happiness.
“I love you too.” She smiles and kisses him once more. “Bye, Harry.” She hugs him across the platform and kisses his cheek too. “I’ll miss you.”
“I’ll miss you more. Call me later tonight when you land yeh?”
“Okay.” She pouts. She had to catch a flight and be away from him for at least one more year.
“I love you okay, baby.” He kisses her forehead. “Bye.”
“Bye.” And with that, Y/N steps out of the car and watches him drive away. She has a plane to catch and he has some sheets to clean but that doesn't change the fact, they are finally together.
And everyone knows it.
Fini!
---------
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Loving You
Chris Evans
Synopsis: Chris is over the moon, he's met you and life couldn't be better - you're all he's ever dreamed of and there's nothing you could do to ruin that.
Warning: explicit language, sexual content
No one in your industry would ever consider you difficult to work with, neither mean, arrogant, conniving or calculating. Most would go out of their way to praise you, proclaim their adoration for the movie star of dreams. On the other hand, your previous partners would. Ex-boyfriends that would bravely volunteer to be interviewed about your past relationship would recount their experiences with the same look as a shell-shocked soldier. If they could, they would gather in a support group for those left with deeply affecting, unresolved trauma - left by you.
You would deny it, if you could be bothered; or if the media had declared your heartbreaker ways to be of public interest. Which they are, but you’re largely untouchable therefore they're unreported. A Hollywood starlet, philanthropist, trend setter and tastemaker - alongside with being viewed largely as a sweetheart. Your childhood nannies coming in storming with adulations and saccharine recollections of a sweet and shy child. Friends that are more than happy to celebrate you on social media and fans who fill the internet with high production videos of you strutting on the streets and red carpets cement the idea that you are the moment, and you are loved.
To the world outside of the sphere of your ex-boyfriends, you were the most eligible bachelorette. There was no flaw in sight, no illusion to dispel or enchantment to break; you’re the real deal. Until you get bored, and you need to hurt someone. Because hurt people, hurt people. As the saying goes. There’s no need to go into that - just yet.
So, when Christopher saw you at the 2019 Vanity Fair Oscars after party, he fell head over heels. Your eyes cast a spell on him, and the enchantment was cast by the world’s master mage, you. You barely realised what you did, you were in no mood to flirt or truly fraternise. You were attempting to drown your sorrows of missing out on another Oscar win for the second time - in a mojito glass. You looked spectacular, possibly more than how you looked during the ceremony. But to Chris, your face of indignation looked like the angelic expression of a good second place loser with no hard feelings. He attempted to approach you, but too many people go into his way, they came with unprovoked film criticisms and pseudo interview responses that would get them into the academy board. All he wanted was to see your face up close and know how you spoke when you weren’t being regarded by a crowd of enraptured spectators.
He could see that you weren’t being left alone either, you hadn’t won the Oscar, but you are being treated as if you did. Your eyes bounce off of him every once in a while, but he couldn’t capture your attention - and then you left the party. You hardly made the French exit you were seeking. Stars old and young clamoured to say their goodbyes and kisses on your cheeks. You finally managed to escape. If Chris were to attempt to lie and say that he wasn’t disappointed, a blind woman could have seen right through him. His heart dropped, and he couldn’t explain why - he didn’t even know you.
Some other actor friends managed to drag him to a more intimate after party, the setting hardly intimate. A compound nestled in Hidden Hills, twenty-four-hour security circling the property, of one starlet who presented herself at the beginning of the night but chose an early slumber rather than socialising.
You came in half an hour after him, a miniskirt showing off your incredible legs - which were insured for an absurd amount.
His breath caught in his mouth. You were dressed down, but you looked too incredible to even try and claim you didn’t try. Everyone’s head turned and everyone was captured by the beauty at the door, accompanied by a friend. Your demure appearance fooling everyone into thinking that the attention was unwanted. You grabbed yourself a drink and half an hour later you were still enveloped with a group of equally intoxicated friends.
Though, Chris was determined to get your attention. He grabbed a drink off of the barman and slowly and easily made his way to you. The word ‘chill’ being chanted over and over again in his head. He was dead set on not making a fool of himself. Three steps away from you, glass of mojito clutched in his hands, his anxiety being beaten down and desperately suffocated into his stomach and away from his brain. He goes over his words, and before he finishes walking to you, you turn suddenly.
Your eyes pierce into his, a smirk glossing your lips. “Hi.” Your voice is low, characteristically different from your stage voice - your accent just as strong.
“Hey, got this for you.” Chris thrusts the glass into your unexpectant hand, some of the drink splashing out over the frosted rim. “Hope, it’s not too presumptive of me to have gotten it for you?” His eyes have glossed over, he shifts his weight from one foot to another. You shake your head no, a sweet smile playing at your lips. He’s even easier on the eyes much closer up. “Sorry you didn’t win that Oscar, real shame, I was rooting for you!”
You store it in the back of your mind that this man manages to look like a golden retriever even when he’s several drinks down, “It’s nothing, what does it mean anyway, I’ll still get more jobs in the future.” You take a sip of your drink after he takes a sip of his.
He compliments your eyes, your complexion and goes on an eager rant of how much he admires your capacity for acting. You drink in the adoration diluted by alcohol and take his words with a pinch of salt. After twenty minutes of solid, drunken conversation you’ve moved to a nook shadowed by statues. Your legs next to his on the red velvet sofa. You remark on the class of the artistic statues, clearly purchased illegally from a Mediterranean museum. He barely takes in your words, much preferring to intoxicate himself with the sight of you - and his fifth beer.
You’ve decided that you want him. Badly. But you’ve sussed him out. He’s not just going to be a one-night stand - in the animal kingdom he’s a Golden Retriever, and those aren’t dogs to be messed with. Your last fling was essentially a Doberman pinscher - discardable - but this Chris had to reeled in slowly.
You interrupt his musing about the Boston markets with a kiss.
Your lips smoothly capture his, your lipstick smearing over his lips. His hand presses tightly on the small of your back, arm underneath your waist holding you up higher. Stars explode inside your eyelids and his fingers grip tightly onto your shirt as your tongue licks his bottom lip. Your entry is granted, you lips pressing tighter against each other. Your eyelashes dance over his. Your hands rise to his face, your hands imprinting themselves onto his cheekbones. His hand brushes over the bare skin of your leg, his fingertips tracing the insides of your thighs. A small moan rises from the back of his throat.
The hold you have on him is cemented, you part away from him. You untangle yourself from him and stand up from the sofa, your eyes refusing to look at him, you smooth your clothes and slowly strut away from him.
Chris looks at the fire that you’ve set on his limbs in disbelief, he doesn’t grasp what you’ve just done. Did he do something wrong? Does he smell? No. You just didn’t care for the ceremony of the first ‘after-kiss’ moments.
He doesn’t see you for a year.
You truly are elusive - to the media and him.
He couldn’t get you out of his mind, and the fact that you starred in another award-nominated film did little to help him forget you.
You were curious to understand whether you really enticed him or not. You decided to not pursue that line of questioning, and never bothered to reply to his direct messages. It wasn’t done with the intent of hurting him, you just didn’t care. But life has a way of putting things in your way that deep down you didn’t know you wanted.
--
Nevertheless, here you are, with your boyfriend of a year - Christopher, sat across from you telling you story about his nephew. You simper, your eyes flitting between the sight of him and the view of the sea. The coast of Martha’s Vineyard enraptures you, you drink your wine, eyes steadily moving to the coastal view.
You grew up coming here. Your family often choosing the quiet island to rest in during the late spring holidays. You brought Chris back here to stay at your family holiday home as it’s not too far from his own family home, a perfect last stop after spending the week with his family.
He watches you curiously, his blue irises begging you to let him in to your thoughts. You refuse silently and beckon the waiter. You ask for the bill, it’s quickly on the table and you pay - ignoring Chris’ refusals. You smile at him, for the second time during dinner. He responds in kind, remarking on your bad mood and how he’s glad you’ve cheered up after having some food. He muses on the lovely weekend you’ve had together as you leave the restaurant. Candlelight following you as you make your exit with your hands holding each other tightly, his other hand in his preppy shorts.
You walk slowly, watching the sunset. His arm finding its way around your shoulders. His sweet and intimate embrace enveloping you in warmth. Your heart beats quickly against his bicep as you near your home. Your hands tremble for some reason and you practically sprint up the porch steps after you’ve crossed the gate and walkway, leaving Chris five steps behind you.
You open the door and make a quick beeline for the kitchen in the far back of the house. You enter the pantry, ignoring Chris’ questions of what is wrong. You take a bottle of Rosé out of the wine fridge and forgo pouring it into a glass and drink it straight from the bottle. It tastes incredibly sweet, and Chris finds you eventually in the pantry. He looks at you in surprise as you gulp the drink.
“Everything okay, baby?” He walks to you, his hands failing onto your hips, his adoring eyes almost boring into your soul. You refuse him entry into the pits of your emotions. Steeling yourself against the onslaught of therapy-like talk.
You don’t want him to know that hurt people, hurt people. And that you’re one of them.
You kiss him, silencing his calming words.
His fingers tighten on your sundress. The colour melding with the colour of his fingers. Your lips become one.
You go through the steps of getting out of the pantry in a seemingly choreographed dance, your dance ends in the smaller reception room; your bodies tangling themselves on the rug. Neither of you giving a care to fact that you’re undressing in front of the window overlooking the pool and coast.
The flickers of the setting sun’s rays highlight his now bare chest. He returns his lips to yours in a hypnotising kiss. Your hands dance with the muscles of his back as you caress his skin, his torso vibrating in between your legs with the fervour of his movements. Your dress is ripped off your body. He directs his attention to your right breast, his soft lips caressing your skin. His tongue lashes slowly against your nipple, you fight to hold back your moans as his hand lowers to your pussy. His fingers pushing aside your pants, his fingers sink into you like it’s their second nature. Your head rolls back as he makes love to you with his fingers and his lips lower down to where his fingers are. He licks you where you need him most, his love for you being written inside you with his tongue.
You orgasm. Slowly.
And all that runs through your mind is how much you’ll miss him.
You pull him up to you, you turn over and straddle him. Tasting yourself on his lips as the sun sets even lower. The waves crash against the shore violently as the wind picks up. You lower yourself onto him and start riding him, your hips bucking in an impassioned manner against his. He doesn’t hold back his moans as he caresses your breasts and stomach.
You realised you loved him four months ago, but every time you catch sight of his loving eyes when you’re fucking, it makes you fall in love all over again.
Chris switches and puts you on all fours, he grips your hair in his hands, the rising intensity making him grip you harder. His thrusts are merciless, his spare hand spanking you and stroking, you’re on the cusp of a sensory overload when he turns you over. On your back you have the most beautiful view. A strong ray of sunlight brightening his eyes as he makes love to you. His kisses are tender but intense. His hand grips onto yours, your fingers intertwined and his other hand griping onto your face.
A tear slips out of your eye, you wipe it away quickly. Your increased sensitivity makes the second orgasm come, Chris fucks you through your breathy moans and you throw your head back. Momentarily blinded by the bliss; the pink sky wakes up from the saccharine, cloudy state. Chris orgasms into you with four thrusts.
You push away from him and stand up; you pull on your silky pants. You sigh and leave Chris on laying breathless on the rug. You walk upstairs and enter your room. You use the toilet, wash your hands, have a glass of water and throw on a short black dress. As you pull on your boots Chris enters the room, a smile gracing his lips.
He pulls on some shorts, “Want to tell me what all that was about?” He gives you a confused expression as he lies back against the bed, taking one of the fluffed pillows from behind him and tucking it between his chest and arms.
Hurt people, hurt people.
You turn towards him, facing away from your walk-in closet. “When we fuck, I have to think about other men to get through it.”
His eyes widen alarmingly, he turns to you, the light of the tv making him blue. “Say that again?” The disbelief is almost tangible in his words.
“I feel embarrassed about being seen with you now. I feel I’m just too good for you.” You walk into the closet and you hear him stomp off the bed.
“No, rewind to what you first said.” His voice is louder, his features twisted with confusion and hurt.
“I have to think of other guys to get off,” your eyes connect with his, you don’t look away, you fight the smirk biting at your lips. “I can’t stand the thought of being with you any longer. I’m sick of it.” You grab the suitcase that was packed for you when you were at the restaurant. “Also, you’re not as ripped as you were when we met, there’s other guys that can provide that image for me.”
“Take it back.” The hurt he’s feeling is completely tangible now. “Take it back right now. Right. Now.” His eyes are pleading with you to have mercy.
You've decided that you've gone past the point of no return. “I’d be happy never have to see you or have to hear from you - ever again.” You scan his eyes, your heart swelling with an eerie feeling of pride as his eyes flood with held back tears.
“This must be some elaborate prank— “he chokes on his words, his hands reach for yours, but you step back.
“This year has been tedious, completely boring and I’ve gotten nothing but only ten decent fucks from you.” Not true, and both of you can attest to that, you've had the best sex, your mutual adoration is clear when you make love. So, Chris is at a loss to understand how this is all being said and happening. “I’m off to New York, stay as long as you like or don’t. I don’t care. Have a nice life.” You slip past him.
Taking his heart and soul with you.
He can’t stop the tears from ballooning in his eyes and then trickling down his cheeks.
He must be stuck in a nightmare. He doesn’t know how long he’s been pacing in this closet filled with your clothes, your smell haunting him.
He rushes downstairs and there’s no sign of you. He stumbles outside and there’s no sign of you or your driver. He rushes in to get his phone and calls you. Five times. The sixth time it goes straight to voicemail.
He feels his heart break.
He falls right in the spot he’s in. He vomits his heart out, the pieces being spat out onto the wooden floors. The blood shinning underneath the soft lights of the lamps.
He wants death. Slow and steady death.
——
Part Deux -
#chris evans imagine#chris evans#chris evans blurb#chris evans fanfiction#chris evans x reader#marvel fanfiction#marvel imagine#marvel#captain america#steve x reader#steve rogers#steve rogers x you#chris evans fluff#chris evans smut#andy barber#andy barber imagine#andy barber fluff#Chris Evans angst
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Sure Shot - Part 2: New Day Rising
Pairing: Clint Barton x BlackWidow!Reader, Yelena Belova x Kate Bishop
*Reader is ethnicity neutral and can originally come from anywhere in the world, but she does have hair long enough to braid/twist/dread, and she has an athletic body type considering the physicality Widows need to have
Fic Summary: Yelena frees you from your bonds and takes you to the best safehouse she knows. But there’s this Avenger...
Chapter Summary: You and Clint get to know each other better
A03
Inspo Playlist
Word Count: 3100
Rating: M for language
Warnings: Reader is an ex from the Red Room, so expect anything to deal with that. age gap, hand to hand combat, cussing, fluff
A/N: My brain wanted me to write chapter two of this. I hope you like it! Thank you to @musings-of-a-rose for help with Red Room knowledge, Clint’s personality, and being an overall awesome person and sounding board. This story is dedicated to her. As I said before, Laura and the kids do not exist in this universe, but everything else happened the same. I do what I want.
Suggested Song: Times Like These by Foo Fighters
You slept like the dead.
When you wake, you could tell it’s late. The sun is high and streams through the French country curtains in blotches on the quilt you’d thrown half off you in the middle of the night. It takes several minutes for your brain to catch up with your eyes, you forgot where you were and who you were with and why, your body moving just as slowly as you ungracefully stumble around the bed to the door.
The hallway is empty, the soft sunlight from open guestrooms leaking into the hallway making it unnecessary for you to turn on any lights as you pad down the creaking wooden staircase. The bottom floor is empty too, but you can hear a faint melody from beyond the back door, so you follow it.
When you get closer to the French doors at the back of the house you can see the source. Clint is sitting on the back porch stairs, an acoustic guitar in his lap with his back to you, the fabric of the white undershirt tank he’s wearing pulled across his broad shoulders as he strums absently, not focusing on any specific tune.
The door is ajar and you push it open more to exit and join him on the porch, settling quietly in a cushioned chair to observe him as he continues to play. His hooded eyes are closed and turned away from you, but you can still tell from his furrowed brow he’s lost in whatever song he’s creating in his head. The tendons of his craggy fingers twitch as they slide from string to string, muscles flexing up his deliciously veiny forearms up to the biceps covered in patches of dirt or dust, and a fine layer of sweat gathers at the nape of his neck in the curled strands at the base of his slightly flopped mohawk.
You sigh and close your eyes too, taking in the sounds of him playing, the chirps of various birds, the wind, the distant chatter of Yelena and Kate from somewhere you can’t see from this vantage point. It’s been four days of scattered thoughts and rattled nerves, so you revel in the fact that everything is at peace. At least for now.
“Morning.”
His raspy voice catches your attention, and when you look towards him he’s turned towards you with an easy smile, leaning against a railing column, his legs crossed at the ankle and hanging off the steps.
You huff out a laugh. “Afternoon, you mean.”
He smiles again, looking back down at his guitar and absently strumming a few chords here and there. “No judgment here. You probably needed it. There’s a plate of pancakes and some coffee left for you inside if you want it.”
“Oh, thanks.”
You were starving, like you hadn’t eaten at all last night. You head back into the house and to the kitchen, finding a plate of sausage and pancakes in the microwave. You heat it up a bit and grab a mug to fix your coffee. The pot must have been recently made because it’s still warm, even though there’s just over a cup of it left. You consider sitting at the island and eating alone, but the resumed music being played outside draws you back out, and you settle back into the chair you were in before.
You roll your eyes as you take a bite. Even re-heated, the pancakes are delicious. You wait for him to take a pause again, catching the way he tries to sneakily check you out. It’s more admiration than lechery, so you say nothing and don’t acknowledge the harmless glance, considering you’d seen him almost naked just last night. He notices you caught him and looks away again, twitching his lips as he instead stares out into the sky, his ice blue eyes squinting from the sun’s glare.
“Where’s Yelena? I should thank her for the food.” You break the silence.
“She’s round front showing Kate some hand to hand. I made the pancakes.”
“Oh! Well thank you. It was really good.”
“Thanks.”
The silence returns, you sigh and lean back in your chair, not noticing as he turns to look at you again, at how beautiful you look in the midday sun on his porch in a vintage AC/DC tee that had belonged to Stark, large enough to almost completely cover the tiny little sleep shorts you had on underneath it. He meets your gaze as you open your eyes again.
“I didn’t know you played anything. You sound good.” He looks down and chuffs softly at the praise, you can tell he is weird about taking compliments and you find it incredibly endearing. Do you sing too?”
“On special occasions.”
You take the last sip of coffee and stand, gathering your dishes to take them back to the kitchen. “Well then, I can’t wait for one of those.”
You turn without another glance and slip through the back door.
Clint sighs, setting aside his guitar and stands, stretching his shoulders and back. It had been a nice break, but he really wanted to try and finish up this repair. He circles round to the front of the house, a rare happy feeling blossoming in his chest as he notices Lucky on the front porch lying on his back basking in the sun. He gives Kate and Yelena a small wave on his way to the post light in front of the house, noting how much Kate has already improved in one hour.
He’d been struggling with the damn lantern all morning, his frustration building as he couldn’t get the electrical connections to spark, allowing the lantern to light up. There was seemingly no reason for it, and the concept that he couldn’t fix it was driving him crazy.
He watches Kate and Yelena as he pulls the pieces apart again to inspect the wiring, smiling to himself at Yelena’s tone, both warm and cold at the same time. Kate is an impulsive fighter. Spastic, a little ungraceful, and he was pleased Yelena had taken over hand-to-hand combat training. There was no one he’d trust more for Kate’s improvement. He was good, but not as good as a Widow.
There were flickers of something else in Kate’s expression as Yelena would make her pause and hold a position, adjusting her form with her hands or grabbing her close to show her how to break a hold. Clint suspected Kate’s nervous energy might have more to do with who was around her rather than lack of skill. He’d have to tease her about it later.
His attention switches to the front of the house as you exit and jog down the porch stairs, and he almost snaps his neck in half when he gives you a second look, your frame hugged by a tight strappy red sports bra and a pair of incredibly tight, high waisted black leggings.
You don’t notice, continuing as you meet up with the others and join in, taking some time to stretch out your muscles while Clint does his best not to openly gawk at you, fixing his attention back on his work. He doesn’t even notice when you’re right in front of him until he sees your feet stop.
“What’re you doing?”
He looks up, squinting up at your face in the sun, straining slightly as he tries not to let his gaze dip down to the curves of your breasts visible over the bra, the shape of your waist, the skin of your exposed stomach, the strength of your hips and thighs. “Trying to figure out why this piece of crap isn’t lighting up. I re-wired the entire thing underground and I’m pretty much done but for some reason the connections aren’t lighting. It’s pissing me off.” He huffs a breath with impatience, his incredibly toned forearm wiping the sweat off his brow.
“Mmmhmmm. Come on.” You reach your hand down to him. “Come spar with us. You can do this later. Get some of that frustration out.”
He sighs dramatically as he allows you to pull him up, tugging him towards Kate and Yelena. The four of you spar and goof off with each other, you’re surprised to find that both Yelena and Clint have a dry and sarcastic sense of humor that bounce off each other well. Yelena performs a dramatic reenactment of her first fight with Clint, then you switch partners for a bit until you are paired up with Clint.
He’s impressed with your skill, once again. You know all the standard styles a Widow should, but you have your own acrobatic flair to it that reminds Clint of capoeira. You rely more on your legs than your arms, the reason for your thick thighs evident in the sheer power you deal him when you hit him with a queixada spin kick to the shoulder. Your hand movements are similar to tai-chi, except sped up, the skill you have in deflecting and rolling off blows is better than Clint has ever seen. It’s like you turn your body into the very shuriken you specialize in, sharp jabs, powerful kicks, push hands, and disorienting spins.
It’s an even match, he’s not a bad fighter himself, and he meets you blow to blow until he finds one weak spot that shoves you back with a gasp as the air explodes out of your chest. The momentum carries him through, leaving his back vulnerable for long enough that you can get up and charge towards him, catapulting yourself from a handspring up and wrapping your legs around his neck just as he turns to you, the momentum allowing you to drag him to the ground with an ‘oof’.
But you aren’t as good at it as Natasha, you land unsteady and with his remaining energy he kicks your legs out from under you, pouncing on top of your thighs as he holds your wrists to the ground.
He’s panting hard, his warm breath fanning out above you. “Yield?” You wriggle under him with a growl but it’s fruitless, he’s too heavy and and too strong, and he’s using all his weight to keep you pinned to the soft grass below you.
“Fine. Yea.”
He releases your arms with a triumphant smile, sitting up on his knees, legs still firmly straddling your thighs. You hate how much you like that smile, the way his eyes sparkle before crinkling into little half moons. He is annoyingly cute. And annoyingly hot you remind yourself, as you take in his heaving chest, slightly softened tummy, biceps bulging with a sheen of sweat, the cords of his neck bobbing as he pants.
At least you’d given him a run for his money. And you always have to have the last word. Or move. You smile up at him sweetly before sitting up and slamming both palms to his chest. He falls back over your legs and onto his ass with a grunt as you swivel and land back on your knees in a low lunge pose.
“Very good, Lisichka, I was going to be disappointed.” Yelena teases, smirking at Clint as he sits up. “Do not let this old one win.”
“She yielded.” Clint observes.
Yelena shrugs, turning back to Kate and complimenting her on her work. You stand and reach for Clint once more, he takes your hand as you pull him back up. He’s close enough you can smell the tang of his perspiration, and you feel yourself responding as it swirls around you, jamming up your thoughts. You don’t even realize he’s asking you a question until he just barely pinches your waist to gain your attention. You were too busy staring at him.
“You okay?”
You swallow. “Yea, I’m good. Just…went somewhere else. What did you say?”
“Where’d you learn your form?”
“Oh. My first mission was in Brazil and in my spare time I learned capoeira.”
“I’ve never seen anyone do that before.” He marvels, and you can feel your cheeks burn under the praise.
It pissed you off. You nodded shortly and turned away.
After another round of coaching Kate altogether, Yelena was satisfied enough to release her, and the four of you head back to the house. Clint had taken your advice, putting the post light back together to try again tomorrow, and you angle yourself towards it as you follow everyone to the house.
Certain no one can see you, you place your hand against the lantern post and close your eyes, feeling the energy softly burn through you. When you enter the house the lantern is lit.
Exhausted from the vigorous workout, the four of you collapse onto the living room couches, arguing over what to get for dinner. You’re content to just sink into the couch with your legs stretched out. You tilt your head up, observing Yelena slightly leaning against Kate’s bent legs on the other couch. Kate looks absolutely smitten with her.
It makes you think about yourself and your own attachments. Romantic affection had never been a consideration for you, there was never time or opportunity for it and you questioned whether or not you were even capable of it. A familial type of love, yes. Yelena, like all the others, was your sister, and you loved them deeply. And Natasha…you loved her even though you hadn’t known her well. She’d saved all of you. Your eyes flick back to Yelena and hope that maybe it’s a possibility for her, especially after losing someone who had meant everything to her. As for you, you didn’t even know anymore. You’d been outside of your own body for so long it felt like you didn’t even know your feelings worked.
A light slap on your feet regains your attention, and you sit up to jokingly glare at Clint.
“What kind of pizza do you want?”
You blink. “What?”
“Do you know what kind of pizza you want?”
“Um, what is everyone else having?”
“We got a pepperoni, a veggie supreme, and a request for a Hawaiian.”
“Um…” Your voice trails off as your brain becomes completely blank, quickly shifting to panic as you realize everyone is staring at you. You can feel tears starting to form and you pinch the bridge of your nose to stop it, once again cursing how haywire your emotions have been since coming back to yourself.
“Lisichka.” Yelena murmurs, and you turn to her as she comes to sit next to you with her phone displaying the menu. “It is okay. Come, let us look and see. Just read one by one and pick one that sounds the most exciting.” You nod and lean over her, scrolling through the menu slowly. She lifts her head and looks at Kate, then Clint. “We never get asked to make choices before. It is a lot at first.” She explains. “This happened to me too. It will get better. Ah, have you found something?”
You hum, leaning against her shoulder, grateful for the support and comfort she gives you. “Yea, I think I want to try this white pizza. It looks interesting, and I remember seeing people eating a white pizza before and wanting to try it, but I never did.”
Order placed, everyone relaxes into the cushy furniture to watch some true crime. You excuse yourself, stepping outside to get some air. It’s a beautiful evening, stars bright and just cool enough. You focus on your breathing as you look from star to star like a connect the dots.
“You alright?”
Clint’s voice is soft and doesn’t startle you. You turn to him, leaning against a porch column. “Yes, thank you. I just…got a little overwhelmed.” You look away as you feel the tears prickling back in your eyes and you huff out in annoyance as they crest over your lids and down your cheeks. You cover your face with your hands.
“Hey. Don’t do that. C’mere.” He steps into your space cautiously, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you in for a casual hug. You heave a shuddering sigh and fold into him fully, wrapping your arms around the small of his back. He tightens his grip on you, cupping the back of your head with one large palm.
When he hears your voice vibrating against his chest, it’s so faint he can barely hear it. “You’re gonna have to speak up.” You look up at him and he taps a tiny hearing aid in his left ear.
“Oh. I just said I’m not usually like this.” You speak louder against his chest.
“It’ll get easier. Don’t worry about it.”
“I just feel…confused and my emotions are all out of sync or something…”
He takes you by the shoulders and steps back from you, your hands don’t leave their position on his waist and they slide forward to gather around his pelvis. He taps you under the chin so you look at him from beneath your watery lashes. “I get it. It’s not easy to have something else in your head, and then suddenly it’s not there. And you had it longer than me.”
“What happened?”
“Loki was in my head for a little bit. Made me turn on my friends. But Nat got me out of it. She bonked me on the head pretty good, then I had to go fight a horde of aliens almost immediately. It was insanity.”
You hum, backing up and wiping your face. “Well not many people can say they got mind controlled by the god of mischief.” He laughs at that and you can’t help but start giggling in between your sniffles too. “And the hearing aid? Is it okay if I ask about that?”
He taps his finger to his left temple. “I can’t hear mostly out of this ear. No idea how it happened, though I have some ideas.”
“Maybe you need to stop being around so much exploding shit.”
“Well that’s what I’m trying to do here.” He gripes. “Hey…what’s that name Yelena calls you?”
“‘Lisichka’? I think it’s like a Russian pet name. It means ‘little fox.’ She was only a little ahead of me in training, so I was with her a lot. She just started calling me that, I’m not really sure why.”
He nods, you see the flash of something cross his face like he wants to ask something else but changed his mind, interrupted by the reflection of the headlights of a car pulling up to the front of the house. He pats your shoulder and steps off the porch. “Pizza’s here. I’ll meet you inside.”
He heads to the front of the house and pays the delivery kid and is almost back in the house when he halts and turns back around.
The post light was on.
It’s late when you wake up, the fluorescent glare of the TV is the only light in the living room. You tilt your head to the other couch and smile when you see Yelena and Kate passed out on the same couch, legs intertwined and Lucky at the foot of the couch.
You close your eyes and consider for a moment heading up to bed, but the couch is so comfy, and you are so tired, you can’t find the motivation to get up. Just as you are about to slip back into sleep you hear the faintest rustle and the weight of something soft and warm covering your body. By the time you open your eyes, he’s gone.
Clint had tucked you in with a blanket.
Post A/N: Reader is lightly inspired by an actual Marvel character. Do you know who it is?
Let me know if you want to be on this taglist!
#clint barton#clint barton x reader#clint barton x you#hawkeye x reader#hawkeye x you#clint barton fanfic#marvel fanfic#mcu fanfic
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It's not easy having yourself a good time
we're on a double-date with other people... why are we kissing? you're not my date
Credit for prompt to
Hypnos x reader (modern!College!au)
Word count: 2.7
Warning: some dating violence on OC's side. Wrist grabbing, slurs and controlling behavior.
Summary: this was the worst date of your life. Thankfully it's also Hypnos' worst date ever.
A/N: here have this fic. I had yandere! Hypnos I was working on but it's giving me issues (it was supposed be under 1k but it keeps growing).
Also, I am open to requests but will rejected any I don't feel comfortable doing.
No beta.
Thank and I hope you enjoy.
💤☁️💤
You regret everything.
You stared at the plate of food you didn't order, some sad little salad that somehow smelled greasy.
Why did you let yourself get talked into a group date? You know why, you thought your friend was going to try to set up with your lab partner, Hypnos.
You looked at the bubbles in your sparkling water, another thing you didn't order and wondered if the person you were with would ever stop talking.
You glanced up at the group at the table. Across from you with his own date next to him, was Hypnos who was frowning at your date.
At least you had one sane classmate with you. Hypnos had been your lab partner since the first day in senior year and honestly you had thought at first your friend was setting you up with Hypnos. If you had known it was with someone else, you would have bail.
Charlie was a nice person you told yourself and your friends thought they would be great for you. Charlie was just… maybe they didn't know you don't order people's food for them.
"Look what I'm saying, Hypnos, is that maybe that YouTuber guy shouldn't be called out as much. Not his fault people can't take jokes anymore." Your date, Charlie, said loudly across the table to Hypnos who just raised a brow.
You rolled your eyes, You weren't going to let your friends pick a date for you ever again.
"Alright buddy. Whatever you say." Hypnos shrugged.
Hypnos' date and fellow classmate leaned across Hypnos, her breasts pressed against his arm. You looked away, poking at your food. You certainly were not jealous, you told yourself.
"Come on, guys. Let's talk about something else." she whined. The other two couples that came along echoed their agreement.
Hypnos grimaced and sat up taller, making the girl sit up as well. You felt kinda bad for both you and Hypnos. Clearly neither one of you guys were getting on with your dates.
You looked toward your friend, hoping she would notice how poorly everything was going. You rolled your eyes when she was clearly lost in her own world, feeding her partner french fries.
Too bad your date wasn't with Hypnos. You thought he was actually cute back when You first saw him, if not a little odd looking with white curls and heavy lidded eyes. Now, you couldn't imagine a more handsome person.
You found your eyes kept going back to him throughout dinner. Especially when he pushed his hoodie sleeves up, showing off his forearms.
The table moved on to some marvel movie or something but you were drifting in and out. You kept checking your watch in hopes that you could end the night soon without being rude.
You could feel someone was watching you and you looked up to Hypnos' golden eyes looking at you. He glanced at the group, back at you and rolled his eyes. You smiled in agreement but quickly covered it up with your hand.
Hypnos pointed toward your plate with the uneaten food, eyebrows rised in a questioning way.
You tilted your head toward your date who was loudly having another argument over some tv show with one of the guys there.
Hypnos looked at your date for a second before he sneaked you his untouched plate of pancakes.
You mouthed, 'Are you sure?' and he nodded, pointing at a plate of mostly eaten omelet.
You mouthed a quick thank you and dug in. You were half though the plate of pancakes when your date noticed.
"Wait, where did you get the pancakes?" Charlie asked, "You know how fattening all that carbs and sugar are? I like my dates to be healthy."
"What?" You asked flatly. Did you really hear what you just did? Hypnos and his date were both staring at Charlie. Hypnos looked furious and You saw the girl send you a pitying look.
"Oh. come on, you know I don't mean it like that."
You suddenly lost any appetite you had and pushed the plate of food away. You looked toward your friend who remained blissfully unaware of your pain.
Your date swung an arm on your shoulders, you sighed annoyed at the causal possiveness. You only knew them for like two hours but they were already acting like you were going steady.
"Ready to hit the club, Y/N?" Your date asked.
You almost groaned, you had forgotten about the stupid club.
"Uh, sure. Yeah." You tried to wiggle your date's arm off but no dice. You thought you saw Hypnos send a disapproving look at your date but you weren't sure. No point getting your hopes up.
As you exited the diner, Hypnos tripped; knocking into your date and their arms off your shoulders.
Grateful for the excuse, you took a few steps out of their reach.
"Oops, my bad." Hypnos smiled widely, and gave a shoulder pat to your date who glared at him. "Just watch it alright?" Your date snapped as they made it to the carpool.
In the car, you peeked at Hypnos who just winked at you. You didn't hide your smile this time.
The club did nothing to improve your date or your mood. The loud bassy music was almost too loud to hear anyone and your date kept trying to get you to stay on the dance floor.
You were able to duck out of their hold and pointed to the table. They tried to tell you something but You didn't stick around.
You almost fell into the booth, your feet were throbbing and you just wanted to go home. You could just see your homework growing by the hour.
"Need water?" Hypnos asked. You looked up, "Oh I didn't know you were at the table. Yes please."
He handed you an icy cold bottle and you moaned at how good it tasted. He laughed and you blushed, feeling foolish.
"Sorry, thank you." You took a slip, without moaning this time thankfully.
Hypnos went back to his phone, fingers moving quickly. "No problem."
"Where is… um what was her name?" You asked, trying not to look at Hypnos too much. How dare he look this good in the club' dim lighting.
"Oh I forgot her name. But she is doing fine. Told me she was going home with her ex." He pointed to the dance floor where the girl was dancing against another guy, their mouths glued together.
You looked back at him, but he already was back to texting on his phone. He didn't seem upset at all.
"I'm sorry, Hypnos." You said awkwardly, not sure of what to make of this whole night.
"Don't be. I'm not." He shrugged. You couldn't help but notice how nicely the red hoodie fit him.
"I will admit though I don't think I will be trusting our friend's matchmaking skills after tonight." Hypnos looked at you, his amused smile made you smile in return.
"You and I both." You murmured your agreement.
You finished off your drink, eyeing him.
After a few more minutes, your willpower broke.
"Okay I gotta know. It has been months since I met you and it is bugging the crap out of me." You leaned forward to him.
He looked up from his phone, a white eyebrow raised.
"Is Hypnos your real name?" You asked him, not quite able to look away from him. You were being a silly school girl and you knew it.
He laughed, "Yeah, it is." He moved closer, his eyes bright. "Wanna know why?"
At your nod, he spoke. "When my mom was pregnant with me and my brother. She got kinda crunchy, got into healing crystals and tarot cards, stuff like that."
Hypnos waved a hand. "So when she couldn't pick names for us, she went to a psychic, who told her that she was a reincarnation of the goddess Nyx. And apparently she was pregnant again with the reincarnated gods of sleep and death."
You couldn't help the small laugh and Hypnos chuckled as he took a sip of his beer.
"Mom believed the guy." He pointed to himself, " So ta-da I got named Hypnos. And my brother is Thanatos."
"Your mom sounds like a fun lady." You played with your hair, enjoying the warmth in your stomach. You couldn't remember the last time someone made you feel such things.
"Oh definitely. I never know what I'm going to get when I see her." Hypnos said fondly.
When You shifted your seat, your leg brushed against his. You almost pulled away but Hypnos pressed his leg against yours. You could feel the heat of his body and it just made you want more.
His golden eyes searched yours, silently asking if he could do this. You returned the gentle pressure and flushed at his soft smile.
"How does your brother handle the whole Thanos name thing?" You asked, desperately trying to calm your racing heart.
A devious glint lit Hypnos' eyes, "Oh he hates it so much. He already hated the whole super hero thing. Last year for his birthday, I got him a cardboard cutout of the big guy. I thought he was going to shove it down my throat. I got his boyfriend Zagreus and their girlfriend Meg in on it this year, we going to -"
"Hey Y/N. Are you coming back to the floor?" Charlie's eyes narrowed, "Hypnos, I think your actual date is looking for you."
You pulled away, you had forgotten about Charlie and you couldn't help but feel some guilt, even if you didn't like them that much or at all.
Hypnos stayed in place, amusement on his face. You saw Charlie's fists clenched and knew they were about to start a fight and stood up.
You were definitely going to block Charlie's number after tonight was over.
"Come on, let's get some drinks for everyone. They should be coming back soon." You motioned for Charlie to follow you. They glared at Hypnos before following you.
You couldn't resist a quick glance back to Hypnos, who raised his beer at you in a 'cheers' motion.
💤☁️💤
Charlie was sullen and quiet as you ordered more drinks for the group. You couldn't blame them really, anyone would be put out when their dates are clearly having a better time with someone else.
Well, not Hypnos but Hypnos wasn't exactly normal, you thought fondly.
You tapped the bar, guilt gnawed at your guts as your thoughts went back to Hypnos.
"So what were you guys talking about?" Charlie slurred, his tone icy.
You took a breath, just a few more hours you reminded yourself. "Nothing much. Just about his brothers and stuff."
Charlie crowded into your space. You can smell the booze and sweat on them.
"You guys seemed like you were sitting pretty close considering you were talking about 'brothers'." They did a finger quote.
You rolled your eyes, unable to stand being near them any longer. You stepped away to head back to let your friends you were bailing for the night.
"Tell me what he said to you." Charlie demanded as they grabbed your wrist harshly.
"Ow, let go of me! You are hurting me, Charlie." You hissed, trying not to draw any attention.
"Tell me." They hisses back.
"I did. Buy your own drink, I'm going home." You tried to yank your hand away but they didn't let go.
"Look I've been nothing but nice to you and you're cuddling up to another guy on our date like some slut." They changed their tone, trying to sound more upset than controlling but it just made your stomach twisted in disgust.
You opened your mouth to defend yourself but after a moment you shut it, "You're right. Clearly this isn't going to work out so let me go."
"No, you own me something, Y/N." Charlie leaned toward you. "And I'm not leaving empty handed."
"Fuck off." You snapped, fear rising in your chest.
"Hey, man." Hypnos grabbed Charlie's wrist and squeezed tightly enough that they were forced to let go of your wrist. His normal light-hearted tone was hard. "I think Y/N had enough of your company tonight."
You took some steps back, shaking a little. Without looking at you, Hypnos asked. "Y/N, do you need to go get anything?"
"N-no. I have everything. I want to leave." You hated how weak you sounded and you wished that you never came out at all.
Hypnos held on to Charlie's wrist and yanked them toward him. You heard Hypnos murmur something to them.
Fear flashed over Charlie's face and they stumbled backward. "Fine. Whatever asshole."
Hypnos turned to you, his eyes darkened by his anger. "Come on, I can get you a ride home."
You just nodded, feeling very exhausted and close to tears.
💤☁️💤
The cold wind felt like heaven after the heat of the overflowing club. At least for the first two minutes.
You just walked, not quite sure where to go. Hypnos walked next to you, easily keeping up with your pace.
Neither one of you said anything as you tried to process the horrible night.
After walking for ten more minutes, Hypnos spoke up. "There is a park nearby, we should be able to find a park bench."
You just nodded, Hypnos offered an arm and after a moment you took it. You pressed your cheek against his shoulder, soaking in his body heat.
The park was empty, lit by warm path lights.
"Thank you." You said. "You didn't have to do anything for me."
"It's all good. How about the wrist?" Hypnos asked softly.
"It doesn't hurt. Thank you since you stepped in." You patted his forearm.
Hypnos sighed, "No. Not thanks to me actually. Its kinda my fault, I've been pushing their buttons for most of the night."
You looked up at Hypnos, your brow furrowed. "What? No, they have been pretty rude since the start of the date. I mean, you heard the salad thing. They ordered it for me!"
Hypnos shook his head. His breath coming out in white puffs. "Yeah and because I was jealous, I made a bad date into a nightmare. I knew I was making them feel all threatened, it wasn't hard honestly. I didn't think they would grab you like that. I just thought they would be a bad date you could laugh about later."
It took you a moment to process his words. You stopped on the park path, staring off at the lake.
"You were jealous?" You asked, not quite believing what you were hearing.
"Very." Hypnos chuckled bitterly.
"Hypnos, you are an idiot." You said blankly.
He opened his mouth to say something but you pulled him down by his collar to kiss him.
At first, Hypnos doesn't return your kiss and you pull away, an apology already on your lips.
But he cupped your face and met you again in a sweet, slow kiss. He kept pulling away to press chaste kisses against your lips and cheeks.
"Damnit, I was planning on asking out you after our last class assignment. I had a plan for everything. I was going to take you to your favorite coffee shop and buy you that dumb drink you like. Take you the park by our dorms and ask you by the duck pond." Hypnos said between kisses and pressing one last long kiss against your lips.
You hummed, unable to think straight. "Our friend ruined that, huh." You laughed when you could feel him growled against your lips. "You have no idea, I had a speech and everything."
After another long and soft kiss, both of you pulled away only to met again in a forehead press. Your white puffs of breath mingled together and your heart felt so full.
"You could still do the coffee and the speech. And the ducks." You whispered.
"Yeah?" Hypnos asked softly, his thumb caressed your cheek.
"I have to do a lab with a very cute classmate tomorrow but I'm free after that." You flushed, pleased at the fond smile Hypnos had.
"That's funny, so am I." Hypnos replied.
Unable to hold off any longer, you pulled him into another kiss, one of the many yet to come.
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Hi!! I was wondering if maybe you could write a Wade x plus size reader? Maybe she’s an ex pro thief and gets put with him for a mission or smth?? I got no idea man just have fun with it aye
Thank you for the request!!!!! Sorry for the wait!
I wasn't sure if you wanted it to be dirty or not so I sectioned that part off in case it's not what you're looking for :)
You are my first ever request! So, thank you, thank you, thank you, and I hope you enjoy it <3
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Thieving, being exceptionally attractive while doing it. Wade on his best behaviour, Smut is sectioned off.
You haven't accepted a mission in 4 years.
You got out of the business and left those “friends” and “friend circles” behind you after you scored your dream internship. 4 years and you were running your own team and writing a semi successful blog. It was a quiet life, and you enjoyed it immensely. You liked your team members, and you felt they found you a fair and caring boss. Your cat Mr. Sparkles was a healthy weight and had finally committed to using the litter box.
You don't know why you answered when he called you, you don’t know why you agreed to such fuckery. But here you were pulling out a familiar black box out of the bottom of your cluttered closet. You picked it up and placed it on your bed. The dark colour contrasted with your bright and colourful décor. Something you found oddly reflective, once you moved on from that part of your life nothing was dark. Everything in your apartment was covered by color and patterns that made you happy.
You opened the box. You and Mr. Sparkles looked at the contents like there was a wild octopus about to come flying out of it.
“It was the right thing to do.” You said out loud. “And it's going to pay well.”
Pulling the tight outfit over your curves felt better than you thought it would. You figured that it would cause you panic or anxiety. Instead you felt a wave of confidence looking yourself over in the mirror that hung on the back of your bedroom door. Normally you were covered in bright flowy clothes, that's what you liked. Your whole life was built upon being invisible since you were little. Now that you were in charge every day was a celebration in its own way. However this made you feel sexy, the outfit was sleek and left nothing to the imagination. Pulling your long hair into a tight french braid you were ready to get out there and do some thieving.
You kissed Mr. Sparkles and gave your aloe vera plant a light touch on your way out the window. It was a hot summer night and the air was muggy. These were your favorite kinds of nights to sit out on the fire escape, have some drinks, read books, and watch the city. It was lonely, but enjoyable nonetheless.
You got up to the roof and plotted your course to the impossible house. You misstepped a couple of times before falling into your usual rhythm. You contemplated whether you were doing this because the small piece of art should be with the family it belongs too. Or if you were doing this because you had some kind of Ocean’s 11 complex that kept you hungry for such challenges. It was an impossible place to break into, the floor of the old house containing the art work was covered with laser security. A piece of knowledge that should make your stomach flip, but only makes your heart feel funny.
You got yourself into position on the roof of the low building that was across the street, you took a few minutes to survey and eventually came to the conclusion that conditions were perfect. You made your way to the 3rd floor balcony. You knew of the owner’s, an awfully cruel man and his lover. They were asleep on the 5th floor of the house. Well, city mansion? Whatever, the point is it didn't feel like a home, it felt like something a royal family would keep when they came to visit. Lots of expensive art and velvet curtains. Massive gold and crystal chandeliers hung from mirrored ceilings framed with fancy crown molding. You did your research in the few hours you had after the job request had come in, there was a - *insert super fancy techno security laser system name here.* And it was said to be unbeatable. No gymnast or other cat-like thief had been able to tango with it. You had been challenged by its precursors but had got out of the game by the time this puppy had made it out on the market.
You picked the lock on the double doors, and slid past the heavy curtains and disabled the basic alarm system for the floor. Surveying the area you saw the lasers slowly dancing like it was a Pink Floyd tribute at the local planetarium. (something you attend regularly) You took a deep breath and got ready to disco your way across the floor to the small framed painting of a sun set. You put a headphone in and set the song *put on a song you would rob a bank to*. You began the journey. People often felt that your size and shape made you incompetent or ungraceful. You learned early on in life not to listen to stupid people say stupid things. You were the best, perhaps because you weren't afraid to look stupid or ridiculous. You bended and snapped, ducked and dodged, twirled and flipped. And just like that you reached your target. The second you lifted it off the wall, the lasers stopped. You pulled your knife and twirled around ready for a fight. What you saw was not what you expected, across the room none other than Wade freaking Wilson was looking at you.. Normally you hated being stared at like that, but he was a “friend” you found particularly challenging to leave behind. The whites of his mask were wide. After making a whole bunch of strange gestures with his hands, he held up a finger motioning you to be quiet. He disappeared towards what you figured would be the staircase going up to the next floor. If he gave you a clear shot at an exit you knew he had trouble with him. So you took your out.
You got back up on the rooftop across the street, you grabbed the bag you left there and secured the painting. You pulled out a large black piece of cotton and tossed it around your shoulders like a shall. This made your outfit look less stealth and more passion for leather/night out on the town. Making your way down the fire escape on the side of the building you saw the target house explode.
I guess Wade hasn't changed any.
You picked up the pace feeling anxious to get to Sister Margrets. Making your way through the city unnoticed, you went into the shitty establishment through the alleyway door. You wasted no time moving through the hallway into the servers entrance spitting you out behind the bar. You kept by the entrance which kept you out of sight, you didn't want to see any more friends tonight. Weasel jumped when he turned around and saw you there looming in the shadows, spilling the drink he had just made.
“Fuck” He quickly remade the drink then moved back to where you were standing. He had a large envelope of cash for which you handed him the back pack. You felt slightly relieved.
“Hey I know you moved on, but thanks for this.”
“No problem”
You turned around and went out the way you came in. Opening the door that leads back to the alley way, you notice a very large and slightly singed body blocking your exit.
“Stay for a drink?” His voice caused something in you to stir. Something you were not going to explore.
“Sorry Wade but no can do” You pushed past him and began walking down the street.
“Pretty pleaseeeee” he said with a sing song voice. You tried not to smile. He caught up to you so he was walking beside you. “If your not a big drinker anymore we could go for diner, tacos!, Sushi, chicken nuggets, you always loved a good chicken nugget” You tuned him out as he kept chattering a list of every food he could remember eating together. You had to figure out somewhere to go as you weren't leading him back to your apartment. Going in random directions, he spoke up.
“I know you live on *Insert cute street name here*”
“What the fuck Wilson?”
“Well you disappeared and I wanted to make sure you weren't being unalived. This means if we head back to yours we can do take out and homemade drinks, which in my opinion is much better anyway. I make the best margaritas in the city.”
You started the walk back towards your apartment. Trying desperately to come up with a way to leave him at the front of the building. The thought of him in your very personal, very colourful, even bordering on childish apartment made you unbelievably anxious. Every time you looked over at his slightly charred body you couldn't help a strange feeling welling up inside you. You got to the front door to the building and turned to look up at him. There was a long pause as you struggled for words.
“It's alright. It was a nice walk.” You could hear the layers of sadness underneath his tone. You were going to tell him that it was a nice walk and that maybe one day when things were better for you they could get that drink. Then you were going to threaten him into keeping everything a secret.
“I don't have stuff for margaritas.” The wrong words left your mouth but for a fleeting moment you actually didn't want him to leave.
“Are you sure?” Hey sounded very serious which caught you off guard and confused you a little.
“Yeah, normally I just drink stuff out of a can” You were terrible at mixing drinks, they were always way too sweet and strong and lead to trouble. Wade gave a big laugh. “Are you okay to pick up the stuff if I get changed?”
“You betcha.” He did a twirl, blew you a kiss, then headed down the street.
You dashed up to your apartment and started to hide your more personal stuff. Grabbing an armful of clean laundry off the couch, tossing it into an empty bin in the closet. You were so busy trying to hide your stuffed animals and random fan art, that you didn't notice him standing in the fire escape landing looking at you from the large open window.
“Damn. This was not what I was expecting.” He said, sounding surprised. “This isn't what your old place looked like at all”
“Uh” Your face got hot and you refused to look at him. “I ah don't have people over so um yeah. You can go now.”
“Nonononononono. This is a huge bit of progress from everything being varying shades of grey and uncomfortable.” Wade took the place in as he made his way to your kitchen. Placing the big brown bags on the counter top, and sliding the blender out from against the bright backsplash.
"Uh I'm going to get cleaned up. Help yourself to everything." You ran into the bathroom and freshened up and were very grateful to be out of the leather and into your summer pj's. They were more on the revealing side but you never found Wade the type to care or be creepy.
Coming out you found him very comfortable whirling around the kitchen. It looked like he had made a giant frying pan of pad thai and the blender was full. Turning around to see you he picked you up and sat you on the counter top like you were nothing more than a bottle of the many sauces he currently had out. He handed you one of your favorite rainbow glasses filled with margarita. Your brain was still trying to calm down from him picking you up like that.
"Thanks" you said with an even redder face.
"No problem, hot stuff" he divided the food into two plates, you led him out to sit on the fire escape with you. It was a sacred space, it felt weird to be there with a real live person. After the most delicious plate of food ever, many drinks, and laughs about the good old days things quieted down leaving a thick tension between the two of you. You realized you owed him an apology of sorts.
"Wade, I'm sorry I didn't give you a proper goodbye. I just had a life of running and I couldn't risk anyone fucking me over again."
"It's alright babe. I understand why you did it." His voice was low and sad and it made your heart hurt. You didn't want the night to end.
"Thanks for keeping my place here a secret."
"No problem. Do you think mayyybe now that I know about your situation we could do this again sometime?"
"You have no idea how nice that would be." You really meant it having him around was the most fun you'd had in a very long time. You didn't have to pretend or beat around the bush about anything with Wade. Nothing was too dark or silly or messed up.
"Well I guess this is my cue." He made to stand up but you grabbed his knee without thinking.
"Uh if you want to. You could also stay for a while." He turned his head to the side, bright eyes looking you over. "You could take a shower and I've definitely got a shirt and some boxers I could lend you." His eyes got wider. "They're mine. They're really…. comfy…" you would never understand how he made you so embarrassed.
"Uh, not sure about that… it just…" he motioned to the rest of his body.
"I've seen your face. It won't bother me" you looked up at him with empathetic eyes, part of you hoping that maybe they came across as bedroom eyes. You gave yourself a mental slap.
"If you're uncomfortable, that's okay too." You said, giving him a kind smile. You could tell there was an internal battle. So you gave him a minute.
"Alright that sounds nice. It's a fucking mess under here tho."
You went into your bathroom and found your gentlest scent free soap and a soft towel. Then into your room to find a giant t-shirt and your biggest pair of boxer shorts.
You put it into a nice pile in the bathroom.
"Okay there's some nice soap, it's natural scent free, made of angel's tears or some shit and a clean towel and clothes in there for you."
Wade shifted around you into the bathroom. "Thanks"
You flopped onto your bed and looked up at your glow star collection that littered the ceiling. You heard the water start running and you closed your eyes. Until your herd some very loud and off key Britney Spears. You couldn't help but laugh. Soon enough he was out and flopped onto the bed next to you.
"Man this is the best sleepover ever."
"If this has been your best sleepover with a chick I feel sorry for you. And her." You joked.
"Sorry enough for a pity cuddle." You know what the look he gave you meant. He was testing the waters to see what kind of night this was gonna be. You couldn't help but feel the need to challenge it.
"We could cuddle… or we could do other stuff then cuddle." You'd thought of all the reasons this was a bad idea. But voices weren't loud enough over the sound of your heart beating. He leaned in closer, fingers brushing your cheek.
"You sure that's not a margaritas talking?"
"Very sure." You said eyes locked with his.
"Why now?" It was a good question. One you had to think about.
"I don't think I ever was really myself. Like I was as much of myself as I could be while hurting that much. Now I'm happy and I enjoy things differently"
"Hmmm I noticed that. I think I got to know you more in the past few hours than I had when we were friends. You actually laugh now. At jokes and not just crazy like when things are exploding" he moved his hand to run through your hair and you couldn't hold back a soft moan. It had been so very long since someone had touched you.
You felt his lips press into your forehead. You'd thought about Wade before but he was in a relationship, then she died, and Wade wasn't himself for a long time. You'd figured if you were something he wanted he'd make it clear considering the dude flirted with everyone. You'd always had a secret fear that maybe you went his type. Vanessa was short and very tiny, other than her you were only sure of one other and that was Cable, who was serious, fit, tall, and massive. You were a good height and curvy as all hell. Suddenly you felt self conscious. But then he put his hands on either side of your face tilting your head up to meet his. You opened your eyes and they focused in on his lips. They were so close it caused the air in your lungs to get stuck.
"You're pretty quiet. You sure you wanna try to do other things. We can jump right to cuddling if that's better for right now?"
You looked up to meet his eyes.
"Is that what you want?" You tried your best to have it come out casually.
"Not really."
Your eyes migrated back down to his lips and you shuffled closer. You wanted to kiss him so badly you felt like your body was on fire.
"You can take whatever you want baby"
******************PSA: Dirty stuff below ;)*********************
That's all the permission you needed. You moved in and softly pressed your lips into his, then took things deeper. It didn’t take much for your breathing to become ragged, you were trying desperately to take the kiss further.
Eventually you bit his bottom lip and whimpered, finally he agreed, his hands tightened on your face and your tongues started to battle it out. You wanted to win, so you moved to straddle him. Finally accomplishing some friction between the two of you, you could feel your panties sliding against your wet folds. This only lasted for a few glorious seconds, before he flipped you on to your back quickly moving to pin your arms above your head.
He started moving south leaving a red hot trail of destruction behind him. There was only so much your tank top would allow, Wade seemed very content palming your right breast while biting on the flesh beneath your left collar bone. You on the other hand wanted your goddamn clothes off.
You tried to break his grip and moaned when you realized such a task would only be accomplished by hurting him. He really had you trapped there, a piece of knowledge that only made you want your clothes off more. His grip on your breast tightened and his smirking lips took a long pull on the hardened nub that was poking up benthe the cotton of your top. You couldn't help your back arching. Finally, after paying respects to your other breast, he pulled back to look at you. He squeezed your wrists.
“Stay”
God he was so bossy. Something that divided you internally. A part of you wanted to push it, see how hard he would dig into you, and the other part was desperate to behave and be good. You decided you would be good, for now. He sat up, leaning back on his knees in between your legs. Slowly his fingers brushed across the soft skin of your stomach, then his hands ran up along your torso taking your shirt with them. Feeling his scarred hands trail lightly across you sent shivers through your body. You felt him cup and knead your breasts for a moment before pulling your top over your head. He took a long look at you which made you feel delicious. No one had ever pulled out this side of you before. Kissing down your stomach he stopped at the waistband of your shorts. He took your left leg and used it to flip you over, somehow taking your shorts off at the same time. There you were ass up naked and loving every second of it. His big hands came down to smack your ass, a loud noise of please ran out of your mouth along with most of the air in your lungs. Enjoying the response he did it again then started kneading the flesh.
“Fuck you are so fucking sexy.” You felt his hands slide down to grip the tops of your thighs. You arched your back further resting your head on the bed. “Good girl.” The words hit you like a bullet but before you had time to find your footing his hot mouth was all over you wet folds.
His skilled tongue painting some kind of masterpiece, he was touching you everywhere but where you really desperately wanted it. But this seemed to be the way he operated, and you weren't complaining. After feeling like he had been everywhere, he started to circle that tight ball of nerves and you couldn't help but let out a shout. Pleasure was ripping through your body, things were starting to get hot and tight inside you, when all of a sudden those glorious lips closed in and created some heavenly suction. You couldn't stop your hips from bucking, this earned a heavy slap on your right ass cheek.
“Fuck fuck fuckf cukkkk ah” It quickly became too much, your orgasm hit you like a train, whole body tensing up then finally crashing down. Wade kept up the rhythm letting you ride it out. Finally pulling away when it became too much. He snaked his arm up your front to grab the front of your neck pulling you up on to your knees, angling your face so he could kiss you deeply. Putting on a show of how good you tasted. After a long moment of heated kissing, he positioned you so you were laying on your back again. Giving you a few moments to catch your breath.
“You wanna keep going?” he asked softly.
“Yes please.” you answered politely.
“Alright but, it's everywhere. All over me. So doggy style is generally best for this next part. If you wanna do it that way, I'm also just happy making you scream like this too.”
“Wade, we can stop if you need to. But I would much rather you fuck me like this. Or let me choke on you for a while then fuck me like this. On my back where I can kiss you and love you back. Ya feel me?”
He looked at you with searching eyes. You realized what you said probably sounded a bit off. Love you back probably wasn't the right thing to say, but you were operating with limited brain function at this point.
“This normally doesn't end well for me.”
“Hmmm. What part, how do you like to uh finish?” You asked slightly confused. Wade only laughed.
“That's not the problem, I almost got off just from you screaming like that. No, I just want to make sure you actually enjoy it. It's hard to enjoy things when you are looking up at someone who looks like they lost a fight with an industrial paper shredder that happened to be on fire.”
You snorted.
“Wade I never knew you before, but I’ve wanted you since I met you. Okay? There's no spooky feelings here.” Your words seemed enough to convince him. He leaned in for a soft kiss, one that made you want to misbehave. You pulled the shirt up, running your hands across the well defined muscles of his torso, then broke the kiss to pull it up over his head. You didn't give him a chance to be chatty, you resumed the heavy kiss, palming his erection. He moaned into your mouth. Feeling accomplished, you pulled the boxers off letting his heavy cock slap up against his stomach. You couldn't help but break the kiss, looking down you watched your hand slide over his impressive, throbbing length. You wanted to take him in your mouth, but before you could push him back onto the bed, he was already pinning you in place beneath him.
You felt him slide himself through your heat. Finally lining himself up with your entrance, his thumb set a steady pace on your clit as he pushed into you slowly. You were grateful he took his time opening you up. You let out a strangled sound when he bottomed out, you felt so full. He set a slow pace giving you lots of time to adjust, this only made you more desperate and needy. When he finally decided you’d had enough, you felt his hand squeeze the back of your neck as he set into a ruthless pace.
“FUCK” He was too much, his heavy body keeping you in place as your hips rose to meet every single thrust. you wanted to feel him as deeply as you possibly could. His hot mouth was biting into the flesh at the bottom of your neck. The heat inside you started to build and you were near your breaking point.
‘Wade” You breathed in a high, desperate tone.
“Cum for me baby” And just like that you felt it take over, your hips snapped up and your feet cramped up. You could feel your walls clench around him tightly, and you choked when he pushed through them even rougher than before. That thumb on your clit never gave up, keeping you trapped riding out the waves of pleasure. You felt it take him over, letting out a deep growl you felt him fill you. He held himself deep inside you, moving both his hands so his forearms were on either side of you trying to keep his weight from crushing you.
His forehead pressed against yours as you both tried to catch your breath. Eventually he moved out of you and he flopped onto his back. You got up and quickly went pee and cleaned yourself up. You grabbed another washcloth and went back to clean him up. You realised that getting up might have been a mistake. Wade was on his side with his eyes screwed shut.
“Hey, you okay?” You asked softly and grabbed the sides of his face and kissed his forehead.
“Better now.” He whispered.
“Sorry for getting up, I should have said something. Can I clean you up?” He gave you a strange look, like he was waiting for you to suddenly disappear. He took the washcloth and wiped himself down, you took it back throwing it into the bathroom. You looked down at him hoping that the voices weren't giving him a hard time. You sat next to him holding his hand, giving him some time.
**********************************************************************
“So about those cuddles?” He asked softly, and you wondered how many times people had hurt him or thrown him out.
You got under the light quilt on your bed motioning for him to do the same. He followed you, laying on his back, you tucked yourself into his side, enjoying his big arms wrapping around you. You gave his neck a light kiss.
“I missed you.” you said softly
“You have no idea how bad I missed being around you.”
“I won't leave again, if you wanted to make this either a regular thing… or a proper thing… if you're into that?” You felt a tight ball of nerves in your stomach.
“I’d really like that.” He kissed your forehead. You thought about all the things you would have to do to make this relationship compatible with your new life. But that was a later you problem, right now you were the best kind of exhausted. You both drifted off into a peaceful sleep.
Thank you again for the request!!!! <3
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