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georgiapeach30513 · 1 year

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A Little at a Time, Part 1

Summary: Small town gossip is rarely just that. But when your cousin and best friend catches the culprit in the act, you can no longer ignore it. Small towns rarely let you move on, so instead you move away, and to Boston where you can either wallow in your self pity, or get out…and that’s where you meet Andy Barber.

Pairings: Cole Turner X Reader

Rating: explicit

Warnings: cheating, language, mentions of losing virginity, mentions of phone sex, face riding, mentions of blowjobs, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 2.4

Series Masterlist

*dividers created by @firefly-graphics

“Peach Blossom!” Your Memaw Leona Faye stomps her foot at the bottom of the stairs. “Peach Blossom! It is time for your sorry behind to wake up!” She takes one step up, and hears you groan.

Rubbing the sleep out of your eyes, you bury yourself deeper under the covers, it was too bright and too cold out there. “Peach Blossom!”

“It’s okay for you to say ass, you know!”

“Why I have never! Tip!” She glares back at her husband, who shrugs his shoulders. “You did this. You gave her that vulgar mouth.”

“Lee, let it go. She’s grown.”

“And still lives under my roof,” you bounce down the stairs, giving her a quick kiss on her cheek before walking into the kitchen. Grabbing up a biscuit to pick at. Memaw’s biscuits did not need anything in them. They were perfect. “What are your plans after work today?”

“Well,” you lay the biscuit down, and start twisting your ring around your finger. A constant reminder that the only thing you were getting that you wanted was Cole. Because this ring was not it.

“PB and J, what’s wrong? Ever since he slid that ring on your finger, you’ve acted funny,” you stuff a bite of the biscuit in your mouth, reaching around her to get a cup of coffee. “Has Cole tried anything?”

“No! Oh my god, no. Cole is a gentleman. He’s fine. I just…you know I wanted an emerald engagement ring like yours,” she gives you a headnod, and lifts up your hand. Her finger traces the outline of your ring. “I’m being silly.”

“You are. You got a man. A handsome one. Future as the sheriff.”

“I know. You don’t think I’m making a mistake?”

You look up at your grandmother, hoping she’ll give you an answer. Instead she cups your cheek, “You have to make that decision. What do you have to worry about with Cole?”

Cole stretches, still laying in his bed. His arms going high above him as he hits his alarm. Reaching over to check his phone, hoping that you would give him something explicit to look at, but instead it was the usual, “Good morning. Hope to see you today,” laying his phone back down, he slaps his hand down on an arm beside him.

“Time for you to go,” she whimpers, scooting herself down the covers, and he pulls her back up. “I said, it was time for you to go.”

“Does this mean I get out of my ticket, Officer Turner?”

“It does if you keep your filthy mouth closed, and get out of my house,” sitting up in the bed, he cracks his neck, and looks back at the girl. “What?”

“You act all noble in the morning, when last night you couldn’t wait to bring me here,” she looks over at the picture of you and Cole together, and chuckles, “She can’t be that special. I’m reduced to being your little secret?”

“You’re reduced to fucking a cop to stay out of a ticket. It’s not that big of a deal.”

“What happens when she moves in?”

He spins around, grabbing her chin roughly, before making her look up at him. “I won’t have a need for you then, will I? And if you think you’re special, you’re not.”

She gets out of the bed laughing. Kicking her panties under the bed, “Is that what it is? Your fiancé is holding out her cunt until you’re married? Oh, that’s rich. Does she know you’ve got a community dick? Let any girl fuck or suck your dick if they get pulled over. You think when you get married and she moves in that her cunt is going to be enough? Cole, you’re the type of man where the new wears off quickly. When did she start holding out on you? You met at the campus when you were security. Everyone in town knows this.”

“I said it’s time for you to leave. Grab your panties from under my bed,” he stands getting his clothes, and laughs as the stupid girl angrily gathers her things, and slams his door closed. He knew bringing her home was a mistake, but phone sex with you and your nudes had made him horny, and he knew you wouldn’t be up for a three o’clock in the morning blow job.

You didn’t just start holding out on him, you were a virgin, and had the dream of your first time being your wedding night. Cole presses his hands against the tile of the shower, and lets the water wash away his sins. He knew it was wrong. He didn’t feel anything for those women though. And she was the only one that had ever come home with him. She looked too much like you, and he couldn’t help it.

Hearing your ringtone, he scrambles out of the shower, and grabs a towel. Nearly falling before he reaches the phone, “Hey, Peach Blossom, how did you sleep?”

“It was fine,” you were hesitant to tell him that you missed his breath on your neck, or even the way he held you close when you stayed the night.

“Aw, you miss the way I feel next to you, huh?” He only takes a moment to look at himself in the mirror, before he turns to strip the bed. He didn’t have a late night, and that meant that you would actually stay with him, he couldn’t have you sleeping where that girl was.

“You know I missed you. Was work exciting?”

“Riveting,” Cole tosses his soiled sheets into the washer, before he gives you his undying attention, “I’m not working late. Do you think that…I don’t know maybe…”

“I’d love to stay the night,” he was adorable when he got excited. You could almost see his nose scrunching up in excitement. “About last night. I shouldn’t have done that.”

“What? Why? No, I liked those pictures a lot. They definitely made me cum,” it wasn’t entirely a lie. Those pictures were seared into his brain as he gripped tightly to what’s her name’s hips.

“Cole.”

“Don’t act all shy. Maybe, you could let my fingers play with you, instead of just yours? Maybe I could get a little taste?” You bounce your finger on the steering wheel staring at the daycare, while you sit in the parking lot. You weren’t sure, and honestly this constant waiting had built up too much fear and anxiety concerning sex. “We don’t have to. Don’t have to do anything. I just want to hold you. We’ll see where it goes. Okay?”

“And if it just goes to falling asleep?”

“Peaches, you know I won’t force you to do anything. I think it’s precious and amazing that I will be the only one that has that part of you.”

“Okay,” you smile. You wanted to give him more of you. You were going to marry the guy. You push away any doubts you feel and chalk it up to nerves. “I gotta go to work.”

“I’ll bring you by some lunch later, okay?”

“As long as you wear the uniform.”

“Is that for you or the kids,” you giggle, opening up your door, and getting a gust of wind kissing on your cheeks. It was ridiculously cold for this time of year. “Peach Blossom, who am I wearing it for?”

“Can it be both?”

“Yeah. Can you suck my dick later?”

“I’m walking into the daycare, Cole. I’ll see you around lunch,” you smile heading into your classroom, and get a big hug from one of your cousins and best friends, Anna Kate.

“Where did you sleep last night?”

“At Memaw and Papaw’s, and you are discussing private matters in front of children,” she snorts, starting to walk away. “Not all of us are like you, and I am firm on my decision. There’s nothing to tell you until after my last name is Turner.”

“You realize on your honeymoon, I’m calling you the next day to see if he murdered your,” she winks at you, and turns to set up for the day. “By the way, Poppy is coming down from Boston next week,” You take a deep breath, putting your things up before giving the kids a smile.

“That’ll be nice,” you tell Anna Kate quickly. “I haven’t seen her in a year. How is your sister?”

“Excited to be seeing you, and that giant ring,” you fake a smile. Walking to the center of the room, before you sit down on the rug. Each child slowly makes their way to you. Ready to start the day, and you were ready for whatever today brought. Leaving all your doubts and worries at the door, because these babies needed you.

There were so many things that you wanted to talk to Cole about. Children were one of them. Just assuming that he was going to be like most men in the area that got married. But you not being able to openly talk to your fiancé should have been the first thing that made you question Cole more. But instead, you ignored it, for a chance of blissful, blind, wedded bliss.

“What about this?” You ask, giving Cole a bit of potential wedding cake. He moans a bit, but pulls you closer to him. “Cole, stop. This is the last thing left to do.”

“I didn’t want a wedding,” taking a deep breath, you turn and scowl at him, “I know, you wanted this big beautiful wedding on your Memaw and Papaw’s estate. Have your mom there, and a picture of your daddy on the table. I know.”

“It’s more than that. I like the ceremony of things.”

“We could have just had something quick, and then had a party.”

“Like Memaw would have went for that,” he was being silly, but it always begged the question if maybe the lack of sex really was bothering him. “It’s a few weeks away, Cole. Can you wait just a bit longer?”

“Three years is a long time,” you go to stand up, and he pulls you in his lap. “I didn’t mean it the way you’re thinking.”

“How did you mean it? Because if we’re just getting married for things to be physical, I don’t want this.”

“No, that’s not the only reason why. But I’m a man, your blow jobs are great, but it’s not the same. And I think you’re psyching yourself out, because you’ve built this ideal first time in your head, and it’s never going to be like it.”

“So maybe we should just have sex now? Clearly, you think I’m being ridiculous. Even though you were well aware of my desires when we first started dating. You were okay with it, and now you’re not?”

“We’re getting married. I just don’t see why it’s such a big deal. You live with your grandparents. You won’t even stay more than two nights in a row with your fiancé. I am okay with this. I just figured by the time that we were engaged, and planning the wedding, and it’s okay three weeks away, I would get more than just…never mind. It’s not that big of a deal. I’ll wait the extra three weeks.”

You heard his words, but he slides you off him, and walks away from you. What he was saying, and how he was reacting seemed to contradict as of lately. You walk into his bedroom, and he lays flat on his back. Arms behind his head, and eyes closed. He seriously was a handsome man, and he was almost yours. Surely something more, couldn’t be bad?

You quietly remove your leggings and panties and go to straddle him, “Cole?”

“I told you I was okay with your decision.”

“Cole, look at me,” he opens one eye, but sits up quickly, seeing you were bare on top of him. “You’re right. I should give you more, but,” you push your hand up against his mouth. “It’s time for you to listen. I am not having sex with you. And if these conversations continue to happen, I’ll sleep at home, instead of your bed.”

“I wanna see,” he tries lifting you up, but you cover your core with his shirt. “Peach Blossom!”

“You can see, but I need you to understand. No sex, but,” you gulp, lifting up his shirt. “My…pussy is yours to play with, until then.”

“Anyway I want to?”

“No, I don’t trust that, but…fingers.”

“Mouth?”

“What?” He nods his head, giving you a pout. “Fine, fingers and mouth. That’s it.”

“Come here then,” wrapping his arms around your hips, he starts pushing you up his front. “Want you to sit on my face.”

“What?”

“Don’t act so innocent. Just,” he lifts you up above his face, staring up at your cunt, and try to deny it all you wanted, you were soaked. “Sit down.”

“No, I’ll squish you.”

“No you won’t sit down,” you shake your head no, and look up at the ceiling. “This is normal. You will not squish me. I promise you’ll enjoy it,” your fingers cling to the headboard, and you start lowering yourself over him. Wrapping his arms around your thighs, he finishes your descent. Letting your juicy cunt to drown him.

His tongue licks up and down your slit. Guiding you to start grinding over him. He was moaning more than you were, and you try to relax. Try to enjoy this moment. Closing your eyes just to feel him.

Cole keeps his eyes on you. Sliding his tongue down to your hole, he pushes it into you. You were achingly tight. There was no way that you were lying about being a virgin. Especially the way you were slightly wincing. Oh this was going to be magical. Watching you come undone for the first time. He could already envision you. He was going to have to keep you in his bed for months.

You were responsive. Your body moving over his face, arousal dripping down his cheeks. When you whimper up at the ceiling he snakes his hands up your front. Kneading your pert tits. Rolling your nipples in between his fingers. He could feel you getting close. Your walls start to contract, and you lift up off his face. He was only slightly disappointed, because he knew you could do more.

“How was that?” You breathlessly ask. Nervous to hear his response.

“That was amazing, sweetheart. Perfect. How do you feel?”

“It was a little weird. I’m sitting on your face.”

“Yes, but my face loved it.”

Cole lazily brushes over your hair with his hand. You were exhausted, fast asleep and laying on his chest. He had shown you there was several ways to stay close without sex. Giving you a quick kiss on your forehead. It was almost time for the two of you to become one, and he was looking forward to it.

He picks his phone up when it lights up, giving a quick glance at the text before responding, “Maybe tomorrow night. I’m busy right now,” all of them would have to wait. And would have to realize that you came before any of those girls. You were always his number one.

Masterlist

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#a little at a time #cole turner #cole turner x reader #cole turner x fem!reader #cole turner x y/n #cole turner x you #cole turner fics #cole turner fic #cole turner fanfiction #ghosted #ghosted movie #chris evans #cole turner smut #tw cheating #cheating

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daylightdreamscape · 2 years

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#chris evans #ana de armas #regé jean page #gifs #not him trying to cheat on a Buzzfeed quiz #I can't judge because I do the same

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tonysslut · 2 years

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Second Chances. Chapter 4

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Mentions of a panic attack

W/C: 1.3k

*6 months later*

Entering your apartment, you instantly collapse on the floor. You accidentally pushed yourself too hard on this morning's run. In the moment, you felt good, so another mile seemed fine. Big mistake. You take deep breaths with your hand on your chest, trying to calm your racing heartbeat.

Glancing at the clock, you notice you only had a few hours before your audition. You'd spent the last few months avoiding contact with the outside world, not wanting to be seen or hear what others thought of your previous relationship. But the desire to return to work began to gnaw at you, and you realized you couldn't hide forever.

It was a big role, an awaited romance action movie, and every part of your body was hoping you'd get it. It'd been a while since you acted, having put your job on hold near the end of your relationship, so you'd be lying if you said you weren't nervous, but it was also exciting to know you could potentially be a part of something so big.

You got into the shower after peeling yourself off the floor and spent the next few hours getting ready. You attempted to keep the outfit as professional as possible while remaining comfortable. Checking your hair one last time in the mirror before grabbing the script and reading it a few times as you left your apartment.

You repeated your lines during the drive to the audition to make sure you knew them by heart. You couldn't possibly risk forgetting them. Nervousness took over when you put your car in park, looking over at the building as your stomach churned. You weren’t usually this anxious when it came to auditions, but this felt huge, especially since it had been so long.

Checking into the building, you made your way down the halls until you reached the audition room. You felt relieved to see familiar faces, one of which was Joe Russo. He smiled at you and gave you a quick rundown of the scene you needed to perform.

As you perform the scene, your nervousness fades, almost as if your mind and body were relieved that you decided to do it again. It was brief, lasting only a few minutes. You thank everyone before leaving the room with a huge smile on your lips. You felt good.

“Y/N?” You hear someone say from behind you. Turning around, you see Lizzie smiling at you. She instantly wraps her arms around you, giving you a tight squeeze. It had been months since you last saw her.

“How are you? It’s been so long!” You ask

“I’ve been good! working a lot.” She laughs, making you smile. “There’s a little cafe on the second floor. Did you want to get some coffee and catch up?”

As you made your way to the cafe, the two of you began to catch up, telling Lizzie your order as you searched for a table for the two of you. Too distracted staring out the window, you weren’t paying attention when you turned out, running right into someone and stumbling back.

You feel someone grab your arms to keep you from falling further, pulling you back up to your feet. You instinctively grab them back, not paying attention to who caught you.

“I’m so sorry! I wasn’t paying attenti-”

All the air in your body leaves the moment you make eye contact with Chris. While you are in a state of panic, his cologne envelops you like a warm embrace and assaults your senses. Tears well up in the corners of your eyes as he scans your face, as if trying to memorize your features. Words seem impossible to get out in that moment, looking at your hands to notice you’re still holding on to him.

You open your eyes wider as you realize what's happening, and as you try to get away, you feel his grip getting a little tighter. When he finally lets you go, you immediately dash to the nearest bathroom and lock yourself in the first available stall. Putting your back against the wall, you slide down until you reach the floor.

You find it difficult to catch your breath, the walls appear to be closing in on you, and everything feels as though it is too close. You feel the salty tears roll down your cheeks as you press your hands against the stall walls, a desperate attempt at grounding yourself. You’re too far gone to hear the bathroom door open, barely hearing the soft footsteps making their way towards you.

“Y/N? It’s Lizzie. Can you let me in?”

She waits for your response but notices that you aren't moving, so she decides to simply slide under the stall instead of waiting for you to respond. You watch as she struggles, mumbling curses under her breath when she gets stuck. Once inside, she sits in front of you, grabbing your hands as she rubs her thumb over the tops of them.

“You’re okay. Just breathe. ” She whispers.

You take in her words and take a deep breath, slowly regaining control of your senses. Focusing on bathroom tiles as you feel yourself relaxing. In an effort to get your attention, she gives both of your hands a light squeeze.

“Better?” She asks, and you nod.

“Sorry,” you say sheepishly. “I don’t know what happened. I saw him and then everything spiraled.”

“When was the last time you saw him?”

“Um, a few months ago. I didn’t think I’d run into him here, of all places. ” You reply, pressing your hand against your head when you feel it pulse. A headache was the last thing you needed right now.

"It's a little difficult not to see him when he works here, babe." She says, noticing the confusion on your face. “He’s one of the leads.”

You feel your heart drop. The audition you just had was to be cast as the female lead. It would be impossible to work with Chris, given how you reacted to just seeing him. You needed to let them know you no longer wanted the role, to skip over your audition. Almost as if on cue, you hear your phone go off. Sliding it out of your pocket, you see an email notification. You open the email and see that you got the part. You were going to be the lead.

“Did you get the part?” Lizzie asks. You nod, feeling as if you’re about to throw up. “That’s amazing!”

“Lizzie, I can’t do this. I can’t work with Chris, especially not in a movie like this!” The bile in your throat rises at the mere thought.

"I know what happened between the two of you was horrible, but you shouldn't let that prevent you from taking advantage of this opportunity." She leans forward and puts her hand on your shoulder. "If you really don't want to do this, then give up the role. However, I think you should take it. It's all temporary."

“I really want this.” You pick at your cuticles while you talk. You hate feeling this way.

“6 weeks. That’s how long the movie is going to take to film. You just need to get through 6 weeks with Chris and you won’t need to see him again. ”

You contemplate whether it’s worth it or not. This role was a big deal to you, but being with Chris for that long felt like a death wish. Lizzie gives you a warm smile as you think. You just needed to pretend like none of this bothered you, like you were unphased.

“Okay, I’ll do it.”

Lizzie gives you a bear hug and calms your nerves by rubbing her hand up and down your back in a soothing motion. You couldn’t shake the anxious feeling you had, but you couldn’t give Chris the satisfaction of knowing you were still suffering. You simply had to put on an act until all of this was over, and that's exactly what you did.

#chris evans #fanfic #cheating #angst #breakup #cevans #chris evans x you #chris evans x reader #chris evans fic #chris evans x female reader #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans angst #chris evans and reader #chris evans imagine #chris evans series #chris evans oneshot #chris evans drabble #actress!reader

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sweater-daddiesdumbdork · 2 years

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This Time Around

Summary- 1.7k Ransom Drysdale x Kitten. Ransom and You are moving forward, in a very real relationship kind of way. Maybe, finally, you and Ransom figured out how this works.

Warnings- Smut. This is a cheating series. If that content bothers you, please don't read. This is an 18+ Only Blog.

A/N- The conclusion of Ransom and Kitten! SURPRISE. Yes, it is short but it feels right for these two after the turbulence they went through. I hope you all enjoy. Thank you so much to everyone who has shared this series. Dividers made by @firefly-graphics

And thank you @sagechanoafterdark and @drabblewithfrannybarnes for all the times you guys have dropped in my inbox about these two. All those convos screaming at each other about them really helped get them where they are.

Masterlist

“It’s perfect.” Your gaze lifted around the midcentury modern home with its abundance of open space and glass windows. Ransom followed in behind you, brown leather shoes a soft thump on the hardwood floors, his gaze also looking around.

The windows, you knew they would be a big selling point for Ransom when he first mentioned this house to you and you agreed to come see it.

“I know it’s perfect. Why I already bought it for us.” He said, a knowing smug look on his face as you twirled around with a gasp.

“You already bought it?!”

“Had to, piece of property like this Kitten will be gone like that.” He snapped his fingers.

“What about your apartment?” Your arms folded over your chest, looking around the wide open space. It was warm and welcoming for you while still being all crisp and clean like Ransom preferred. “You going to sell that?”

“Nope, that is also too good to let go with a location like that. I thought we could move in here, try it out. If we like it, I will lease out the apartment. Or we can just keep it as is Kitten, a place for us to crash when we wanna be in the city.” Ransom mimicked you teasing, his arms folding across his chest.

“Well, it’s good that I’m liking it so far.” You wandered into the house a little further, tutting under your breath. “Although, I don’t know about those kitchen counters.”

“What the fuck is wrong with those kitchen counters?” Ransom strided in after you. You were sure to duck around the kitchen island to put space between you two.

“I mean… look at this.” You planted your hands against the beautiful marble kitchen island, leaning against it enough so you knew Ransom could see down your shirt. “Is it really the right style for us?”

His blue eyes darkened at you across the kitchen island. “No, your right. The right style is me bending you over this counter and making you scream. I bet you would sound so pretty crying my name, making it echo off all this glass.”

You snapped up, smirking back at him as you shifted a bit, watching, waiting for it. “You bought this house because of all these windows, didn’t you?”

“Might have been a selling point for me. I like to have you on display.” He slammed his hand down on the island counter and you bolted, knowing that Ransom would be right behind you, you laughed as you raced through the downstairs, going straight for the stairs.

You reached the landing and took your chances, darting into a huge bedroom facing the front of the house, overlooking the most beautiful stretch of Boston’s outskirts. The city in view but still far enough away that it was like it couldn’t touch them. “You found our bedroom.” His hands were in his pockets as he came in, every bit of relaxed, not like he was just chasing you through the new house. “And no place to run off to Kitten.”

You backed up as he advanced forward, unable to hide your grin as your hands reached for his chest, a weak attempt to hold him back. “Oh no, I’m so scared.” You bit your lip, still trying to contain your happy grin.

“Yeah, you look scared.” Ransom continued pressing into your space till he had you right against the bedroom glass. Your hands fell to his slacks, working them open while you arched to kiss him, distracting him long enough to wrap your hands around his cock, feeling him thicken as you stroked him. It caused him to grunt in your kiss, tilting his head back with closed eyes to savor the moment. You nipped at his bobbing adams apple, kissing along the column of his neck.

“Terrified, you gonna let me get a dog? For protection?” Another twist of your hands around him had him gasping out.

“Why the fuck we want a dog Kitten? You already got the fish.”

You could feel him getting closer, his breathing rapid and his hips rutting into your hands. “I told you to keep me safe.” Large hands forced you to let go, whipping you around till you were pressed to the glass and Ransom was working your skirt up around your waist and making your legs spread.

“You can go visit Harlan’s dogs. He has two huge slobbering mutts.” Ransom hissed near the back of your head, his cock slipping between your folds till he filled you, making you gasp in shock against the cool glass and slam your palms against the hard surface. Your moan was muffled under his palm that clasped around your mouth as his hips slammed into you.

It was quick and hard, making you start to grow desperate feeling him.

“Not the same.” You tried answering behind his palm, moaning out lewdly with your eyes rolling back. Ransom did that tilt of his hips and it made his cock hit you just right.

“Come on Kitten, you gonna keep holding out on me?” He changed the subject on you, hooking his fingers against your jaw and tilting your head sideways enough to sloppily kiss you, making you sink in for more.

“No, no I’m close Ransom.” You managed to push a hand off the glass and dip between your thighs, rubbing quickly at your clit till your pussy started fluttering around his cock, trying to ride that high sensation it gave. “So close…”

“Lemme feel you Kitten, squeeze my cock tight.” He rutted harder against you. Demanding you to break for him. It was easy to do though, you wanted it as bad as him and when you came, you slumped against him while he was sure to hold you up, finishing himself with several demanding pumps into you till warmth spread through you, making you feel full and good. You moaned in satisfaction, feeling weightless, your body floating somewhere that you didn’t want to end. Only Ransom ever made you feel that good, Ransom was the only one who you ever wanted to make you feel this good.

“I love you Ransom.” You muttered against the glass pane until Ransom eased from you, turning you so you could lean into his chest, bury your face in his high priced shirt that smelled just like his favorite cologne.

“I love you too Kitten." His warm breath brushed against your ear momentarily. Then he asked you a question softly, almost hesitant of your answer. "You think you can be happy here with me?”

Ransom’s question sank into you, how tentative his question was, hoping that you both would be in the same place still. You both had struggled for something more then friends with benefits. Ransom worked on not being so selfish with you and you worked on your trust issues, voicing adamantly when Ransom was doing something you weren’t okay with. Months after you showed up on his doorstep with his book clutched to your chest, you moved into the apartment and now life was starting to settle comfortably, must to the disbelief of both of your families. Except Harlan, he continued with his utmost support in you both.

Happy? Yes you could be happy right here with Ransom.

You lifted to look up at him, still dopey sex happiness etched on your features but your words were straight from the heart. “It was always gonna be us Ransom, I will be happy here, even if I can’t have that dog.”

Ransom rolled his eyes at you, laughter bubbling up though. “Fucking hell, if you really want a dog, we will get a dog Kitten. But we are hiring someone to clean up the shit from the yard because I’m not doing it.”

The intercom on Ransom’s desk beeped.

‘You have a visitor Mr.Drysdale.’

He glanced up from his emails to see if he could see you through the frosted glass of his door, knowing that you had planned on stopping in that afternoon. But it was to obscure to see anything. Ransom hit the intercoms respond button.

“Let her in.” He was moving to a stand to greet you after decluttering his desk and straightening his papers when Harlan opened the door with a good natured grin.

“Sorry Hugh, just me for now although I’m sure Y/N will be by soon enough.”

Ransom gave a surprised hello before rushing around his desk to greet his grandfather. “I was actually expeciting her later.” Once Harlan seated himself, Ransom returned to his own seat. “But what are you doing here? We don’t have anything scheduled till next week.”

“Marta and I were in the area and I decided to stop in, see how things were going here. You and Walt getting along?” A bushy brow lifted while he glanced at the clean crisp pages lining Ransom’s desk. “And what you think of my latest?”

Ransom shrugged. “Walt is Walt, a pain in the ass trying to still push for some other media.”

“So a pain in my ass.” Harlan muttered, rubbing at his face which made Ransom give a good natured laugh.

“I’m glad to finally hear you admit it. And your book…” He shook his head. “It’s another Harlan Thrombey best seller, I’m sure. Do you doubt it?”

“No, but I am a writer.” Harlan said, mimicking his gransons shrug of shoulders from earlier. “I live to hear that my work is worthy of the pages it is printed on.”

“Well you don’t have anything to worry about. I already have interviews chomping at the bit to get the exclusive on an interview with you.”

“Good, good.” Harlan hummed a bit to himself, studying Ransom. “How are you and Y/N?”

Ransom balked at the unexpected question, letting himself consider how he was going to answer. He didn’t want to exactly brag, but it was all good. Finally he felt like his life meant something more then being a disappointment to everyone and to himself. Sure it was still a big learning curve for both of them, they have had there epic fights over stupid shit, but now it was about talking it out. No more pushing one another away.

“Things between Y/N and myself…” Ransom gave a real smile, one that reached his eyes. “Better than ever. She makes me a better version of myself and I don’t ever want to let that go and I don’t plan on it. I’m in it for thick and thin as long as she will keep me.”

The look Harlan gave, it was like he already suspected as much. “I have to agree, Son. It's good, seeing you like this.”

#ransom and kitten #precarious agreements #ransom drysdale and reader #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale x you #ransom drysdale and you #ransom drysdale au #ransom drysdale #knives out #knives out fic #knives out au #chris evans characters #tw cheating #tw cheating fic #amber writes #sweater writes

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blue-cheeseinmyoffwhites · 1 year

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I would pay an arm and a leg to see the entirety of Buck & Eddie’s text records between each other

#do y’all think they send each other stupid memes #or pictures of Chris #one of those is already canon #do they play random iMessage games #*you cheated😒*#what emojis do they use #I definitely see 😒😩🤔😳😭😌#& maybe a little 😉🥹😐🤝🤌🤟#oh & they definitely used 👀🕺🎁🤍at least one #911 fox #evan buckley #eddie diaz #buddie #buddie 911

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nowandajenn · 2 years

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Blue Christmas- Eleven (Healing)

Pairing: Chris Evans/OC Kelly

Summary: After almost three years of marriage, everyone would tell you that Chris and his wife Kelly are the most stable, solid couple they know. But behind closed doors, things are tense as they keep trying for a baby, to no avail. When a secret threatens to shake their solid marriage to it’s core, will they be able to pick up the pieces?

I do not consent to have my content, whether it be this story or anything else of my creation, posted by a third party on any other platform other than right here without my permission. This blog is 18+ and is not intended for minors. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Heed the warnings. This is a work of FICTION. I do not claim to know Chris Evans, his family, friends, or anyone on his team personally.

Warnings for this chapter: Heavy, heavy angst. Language. Mentions of adultery. Mentions of miscarriage. Pregnancy. Allusions to abortion but nothing is stated outright.

This beast is clocking in at just over 6.7k words. Probably the single longest chapter I've ever written. The tag list for this story was getting out of control, and more than half the people on it had no interaction with the story at all, so I discontinued it. I'm tagging my nearest and dearest though. I may, MAY, create a google form for a new tag list. We'll see.

January 8th (Six days post accident)

The pain meds they give people in the hospital following surgery pack a wallop, especially when given through an IV. They make me have crazy dreams, turn my attention span paper thin, and have the added bonus of turning my brain/mouth filter virtually non-existent.

I’m trying to pay attention to the conversation that Chris is trying to have with me. I really am. To be fair, he knew when he got here an hour ago that I had just gotten another dose.

“What about this one?”

Chris turns the iPad towards me so I can see yet another picture and resume’ of a home health nurse. It was an idea that he was originally against, but both Lisa and Andi, my main nurse, had both suggested that maybe having someone come in for a few hours a day a couple times a week would be a good thing. As much as he wants to do everything he possibly can for you, he also knows he’s only one person. After not hearing a response, and thinking maybe I had dozed off into a narcotic induced nap, he looks up to see me using my good hand to fiddle with the end of the braid that the nurse had put my hair into earlier after the shower that I’d finally been allowed to have after days of bed baths.

Showers used to be glorious things. Water turned up to near scalding levels, music playing loud with me singing loudly (and badly) along, and nice shampoo and shower gel that smells amazing. This was not that. This was an entire process that took nearly an hour, starting with my casted leg and equally casted arm being wrapped in waterproof plastic and ending with me in tears because washing long hair takes two functional hands, and I only had one. There’s zero dignity in having another person give you a shower when you’re a grown woman who’s been showering and bathing by herself for many years now without issue. The nurse had been amazingly sweet and sympathetic and helped me with whatever I couldn’t do on my own (which was a lot), but the whole experience just left me feeling useless and depressed.

A soft touch to my hand brings me back to the present.

“Where’d you go?” he asks softly.

”My hair smells weird.”

He leans forward a bit so he can get a whiff of my hair. “It smells okay to me.”

“It’s not the same. It’s weird, clinical hospital shampoo. It doesn’t smell good like mine.” I lament. “I couldn’t even wash my own hair today. It’s too long, and I couldn’t do it with one hand. I can’t even-”

My voice starts to waver and I look down at my arm that’s laying useless in a sling across my chest. Even my fingers are so swollen and bruised that I couldn’t even put my rings on if I tried. My ring finger, which hasn’t been naked since Chris slipped my engagement ring on it some four and a half years ago, feels very bare and just wrong. Everything about the accident and my injuries keeps hitting me in different ways.

I look over at Chris and then down at the iPad that he’s still holding. “Hire whoever you want. I honestly don’t care, and it’s not like I have any choice in the matter.”

He sighs softly, knowing that this conversation was never going to go over well. He knows that I know that I’m going to need as much help as I can get when I finally get released to go home, but he also knows that being as stubborn and self sufficient as I am, my worst nightmare is having someone have to help me do something as simple as get out of fucking bed.

“This is the one thing that’s happened lately that you do get to choose. I want to get someone that you’re going to like and be comfortable with. I can’t imagine what this is like for you right now, and I’m just trying to make life as easy as it can get when you’re home.”

“I don’t know if I’m going to like someone from a goddamn resume’. As long as they can do the job without fucking me up more than I already am, great.” My back is starting to ache because of the position that I’m laying in, and when I go to slide further up the bed, I’m rewarded with a searing pain in my stomach from the movement pulling at my still healing splenectomy incisions.

“Fuck, honey-”

I fall back on the pillows, irritated as hell and over this damn conversation, and the words fly out of my mouth before I can even think about stopping them.

“Just pick someone! Maybe you’ll get lucky and you’ll get another girl who’s going to fall for the irresistible Chris Evans charm, who has no moral compass and no compunction about sleeping with married men. Then you can throw a shot into her too.”

I watch as his face falls, his hand pulling back from where it’s been resting on my arm and a lump the size of a golf ball forms in my throat. I didn’t mean to say that. I might as well just be wearing a name tag that says Hi, I’m: Here To Make Things Worse. I cover my mouth with my hand and glance up towards the ceiling, trying to blink the tears away before they can fully form.

“I’m…..I’m sorry. I didn’t mean….” I start, but the words don’t want to come out.

“It’s okay.” he tries to assure me.

“No, it’s not.” I look down at the fluffy blue blanket that Chris brought me from home and I play with the slightly frayed edge, ashamed and unable to look at the broken look on his face. “This is a bad idea.”

He pops a shoulder. “Could always hire a male nurse.” he says, raising his eyebrow.

I let out a small snort, knowing he said it to try and lighten the mood, but all I can feel right now is trepidation at the thought of coming home with Chris to recover and him taking the brunt of all of my frustrations and emotional eruptions.

He turns the iPad off and puts it on the side table and I watch as he stands up and grabs his jacket off the back of the chair, and my eyes widen.

“Don’t leave. Please, I-” I sputter out, trying to push down my panic.

“I’m not. I’m just going to run down and get a coffee and check in with Shanna and see how Dodger’s doing. Are you getting hungry? You want me to grab you something?”

I squint, trying to remember the dinner options on the meal sheet they give me every day and which one I might have picked.

“Uhhhhh….no. I’ll be okay. They should be bringing whatever I picked out soon anyway. I’ll live.”

“Okay. Text me if you change your mind. I’ll be back. No more than half an hour, I promise.” he says, resting his palm on the top of my head gently.

---------------------

When Chris gets back twenty or so minutes later, I’m honestly sort of surprised he came back instead of just going home and getting away from my emotional, broken ass for a while. And even more surprised that his mom is with him, since I didn’t know she was planning on coming by today.

When they walk in, I’m sitting in one of the chairs in the room with my leg propped up, poking at a dish of red jello with a spoon.

“What are you doing out of bed?” Chris asks, surprised.

“I had to pee after you left, and being in bed was making my back hurt, so I asked if they could just park me here for a while. There’s not a ton of options when all you can really do is sit, so…I’ll be ready to get back in bed in a while.”

Lisa starts towards me and I push the wheeled table away from me slightly so she can bend down and give me a hug, which I return with a strength that takes her by surprise a little bit. Knowing how hard the last few days (hell, weeks for that matter) have been and the fact that your mom isn’t around, she just had a feeling today that you could probably use a big dose of love that only a mama can provide, which is why she decided to pop by and surprise both you and Chris.

She tilts my cheek to the side gently as she examines my face. “Your bruises are looking better.”

“Mmm. Still hurts. Airbags will save your life, but you’re going to feel like you went twelve rounds with Mike Tyson after they go off in your face.”

“So, Chris and I were talking downstairs, and I had an idea.” I swallow my mouthful of jello and look towards Chris, really hoping that he didn’t tell her about what I said. He shakes his head almost imperceptibly and the anxiety in my gut loosens up a bit.

“What would you think about me coming to stay with you guys for a bit when you got home?”

“Chris, tell me you didn’t ask your mom to come home with us to be my babysitter.” I groan. Lisa snorts slightly. “He didn’t ask. I’m offering. I know you’re not crazy about someone you don’t know being in your house and….” she searches for the right words “helping you. And it wouldn’t be for too long; just until you guys get yourselves situated at home and get into a routine with things. It’s just to make the transition a little smoother.” she assures me.

I look over at Chris and he shrugs, gesturing to me. “This is your call.”

I sigh, looking over at my mother in law, who I adore more than anyone in the world. “I’m not great to be around lately. I’m still not convinced that coming home after this is the right thing to do, and I’m afraid it’s really just going to make things worse. I don’t want you both to have to deal with my psychotic mood swings.”

“Sweetheart, if your mood was completely stable after everything that’s happened, I’d be terrified. You’re hurt, and you can’t do the things that everyone else takes for granted without help, and everyone knows how frustrating that is. I know you’re angry and sad and frustrated. And that’s okay. We’re-” she gestures between herself and her eldest son “made of tough stuff. Well, I’m tougher than him. We all know he’s a big baby who cries at the drop of a Hallmark movie.” I sputter out a laugh while wiping my eyes.

“We all love you, and we’re all here for you no matter what.”

January 17th (Fifteen days post accident)

“They would release you on the coldest day of the year.” Chris says as he makes a final sweep around the hospital room that I’ve called home for the last two weeks.

I huff out a small laugh. “Let’s just get the hell out of here before they come back here and tell me that they’ve decided to keep me for another week.”

“They should be back any minute with your discharge papers, and then we’ll go. The doc said he was going to call in your prescriptions to Walgreens, so hopefully they’ll be ready by the time we get there. Or I can get you home and settled in and run back out and grab them.”

“We can wait for them. It’s too cold to be running back and forth.”

I look down at my “going home” outfit and can’t help but feel completely ridiculous. A pair of pink flannel pajama pants with penguins on them (they’re the only thing besides sweats that I can get up over the cast on my leg), a long sleeved white shirt, and one of Chris’ hoodies that’s zipped up over my sling, leaving just my good arm in the sleeve. They removed the stitches from my arm yesterday, but I haven’t been able to bring myself to look at it. The compression bandage that I’ve been instructed to wear all the time (with the exception of showers) is a lot more comfortable than the layers of wrapping my arm was encased in, but still annoying. And it itches like the devil. My right foot is encased in fluffy socks and a shoe, and my left leg is of course still in a cast, a sock pulled down over my exposed toes so they don’t freeze off when I go outside.

My eyes go to the small black wheelchair that’s coming home with me and I squeeze my eyes shut. Because I’ve been instructed not to use my damaged arm for ANYTHING more strenuous than moving it gently to maneuver a shirt on and off, I can’t use crutches.

Chris finishes packing up my backpack, and stops when he sees me staring vacantly at the wheelchair. He frowns, and walks over slowly, sitting on his heels in front of me.

“Hey.” he murmurs softly, snapping me out of my reverie.

“Hmm?”

“This isn’t going to be forever. They said the cast is going to come off hopefully in a couple of weeks, and then they’re going to put you in a walking boot. At least then you’ll be able to get up and move around. I know, I know how much you hate this. I do. But it is not forever.”

“I know.” I hate how small my voice is. “I hate how I have to think about every move I make. I can’t reach for anything because I can’t use my arm. I have to be careful when I stretch or it hurts my stomach. I have to cough or sneeze as soft as I can or else my ribs hurt. It’s just….I feel like a prisoner in my own body right now.”

“But you’re going to get the chance to get stronger and recover.” I look up at him and our eyes meet, and I know we’re both thinking about the fact that the driver of the car that hit me died four days ago from his injuries sustained in the crash, and how that could have been me instead.

---------------------------

When the nurse comes in with my discharge papers and the litany of aftercare instructions, Chris takes them and heads downstairs with my stuff so he can bring the car around to the front entrance. The nurse helps me put my coat and hat on before helping me maneuver myself into the wheelchair and we head down to the first floor.

“You excited you’re finally out of here?” she asks me with a smile.

“And nervous. It was kind of comforting knowing that even though I was stuck in here, if anything went wrong, I was in the right place.”

I see Chris pull up at the curb, and the nurse wheels me outside, and I gasp at the biting cold. It’s the first time I’ve felt fresh air on my skin since the day of the accident, and although it’s beyond freezing, it still feels amazing to breathe it in. It isn’t until I get situated in the passenger seat and we’re ready to drive home that the panic sets in.

“The last time I was in a car I almost died.”

Chris takes his hands off the steering wheel and reaches over to hold my right hand.

“I know.”

“You drive like an insane person.”

Despite the seriousness of the conversation, he snorts, because he knows the amount of speeding tickets he’s accumulated since he started driving is ridiculous. But he also knows that since the accident, he’s been almost hyper aware of his speed and everything going on around him, when he usually just goes on autopilot when he’s driving, like anyone else who drives every day.

“I promise I won’t drive like an insane person with you in the car.”

“Don’t drive like an insane person ever. You can’t control the way other idiots drive, but you can control how you do. I need you around.”

Those words make hope bloom in his chest.

“I promise.”

When we get home, relief washes over me. As promised, Chris drove very carefully and obeyed the speed limit, but I was still a nervous wreck the whole 25 minute drive. Plus, being scrunched in the roomy, but limited space of the passenger seat isn’t very comfortable with my injuries. One the car is parked inside the garage and Chris has my door open, he realizes that he didn’t really think this part through very well.

The furniture inside has been arranged and re-arranged about a dozen times in different configurations to accommodate the wheelchair in the house. He purchased a shower chair for me to make showers easier, he got cast wraps to keep the cast on my leg dry, he set up a perfect little nest with pillows and blankets on our sectional so I’d be comfortable, with remotes and chargers and books, and even a little cooler within reach.

I notice the look on his face that he gets when he’s confused about something or trying to find a solution to a problem, and turn to him.

“You’re trying to figure out how you’re going to get me in the house, aren’t you?”

The sheepish, yet slightly guilty look on his face tells me I’m right. “I have guys coming on Monday to put in a temporary ramp over the stairs in front. But I didn’t think about today.”

There’s two steps to get from the garage into the house, and the wheelchair isn’t going to make it up them.

“You’re going to have to carry me in the house.”

“I was thinking that, but I don’t want to hurt you. You’re still really sore.” he says, gesturing to his chest and stomach.

“I’m pretty sure everything I do for a while is going to be somewhat painful, but I think this is our only option. Why don’t you grab the wheelchair and bring it in, put Dodger in the bedroom until we get inside so he doesn’t knock me down when he sees me, and then come back out and grab me?”

He exhales slowly. “Okay. I’ll be right back. Just…..” he trails off, gesturing vaguely at me.

“Trust me, I’m not going anywhere.”

When Chris comes back out, he comes around to the passenger side and opens the door for me. I turn in the seat, angling myself as much as I can to make it easier for him to grab me and carry me inside. I’m slightly nervous about how much this is going to hurt, but I’m determined to not let it show.

“You ready?”

I take a deep breath and nod. He stoops down and slides his left arm around my back, while his right arm loops under my legs and he lifts me gently, my good arm going around his neck. He’s carried me like this about a million times in the years that we’ve been together, but for some reason, all I can think about is how he carried me (both of us slightly tipsy) like this up to our hotel room after our wedding reception, and me laughing and telling him not to drop me or else I’d get our marriage annulled. I squeeze my eyes shut at the memory.

I open them back up when I feel Chris setting me down on the end of the sofa and helping me get comfortable.

“Are you okay? I didn’t hurt you, did I?” he asks nervously.

“I’m okay. Can you just grab a couple pillows so I can put my leg up though?”

He hits the button on the side of the couch for the foot rest to come up and slides a couple throw pillows under my leg.

“Can I get you anything? Are you hungry? Thirsty?”

“I”m okay for right now. Can you go get Dodger though? I missed him like crazy.”

He smiles and goes to the bedroom to let the dog out, and a second later, I hear the sound of his nails clicking rapidly on the hardwood.

“Hi, baby!” I exclaim, holding my arm out.

“Dodge, be gentle, okay? Careful.” Chris warns.

Dodger jumps up on the couch next to me and immediately snuggles into my side. Luckily enough, he’s on my good side so I can give him pets and belly rubs.

“Mom’s going to be over in a few hours. She said she wanted to give us a little bit of time to get settled in and such. I’m gonna go and unpack our stuff and start some laundry. You have the remotes and your phone and charger nearby….if you need anything, just yell. Or tell Dodger to come get me.”

“I will. I think I’m going to try and take a nap though, honestly. The trip home kind of took it out of me.”

“Okay.” He grabs a blanket from the back of the sofa and drapes it over me, dropping a kiss to my head before he leaves to go get started on unpacking our stuff. As he walks away, he stops to look back at me again, thinking to himself how it seems like it’s been a lifetime since the last time the both of us were in this house together, even though it’s only been about three weeks. As much as he wanted you back home, he never in a million years thought this would be how it happened.

January 25th (23 days post accident)

“God, that feels nice.” I moan at the feeling of Chris’ fingers in my hair, massaging the shampoo in.

“Why do you think I always beg you to wash my hair?” he says, smirking. I catch his use of the present tense, and try and think about how long it’s been since the last shower we took together before the accident. I’m damn near positive it was way different than the ones that have happened since I’ve been home, and probably ended in orgasms all around.

“This is infinitely better than the showers in the hospital. The nurse who always used to do mine had long ass nails. I’m pretty sure one of them is still embedded in my brain somewhere.”

He laughs as he rinses my hair with the detachable shower head. After working conditioner through my hair and helping me scrub myself down and even shaving my right leg and under my arms for me, he steps out of the shower and wraps a towel around his waist before grabbing another one to dry me off. I’m sitting on the toilet lid in my underwear while Chris smooths lotion on me, letting me do what I can reach with my good arm when I say his name softly.

“Thank you.” I watch his eyebrow quirk up in confusion.

“What for?”

“This. The- everything. When we got married, I bet you never imagined you’d have to help me shower and put on clean underwear and take me to go pee.”

He looks down as he continues to rub the lotion into my leg. “No, but I don’t think anyone goes in ever thinking about the worst case scenario where those things would ever come up. But that’s part of the deal, right? For better or worse? That covers everything; not just the good stuff. You don’t have to thank me. It’s my job.”

“You could have just let my mom have her way and let them take me home.” I point out.

He scoffs and shakes his head.

“Absolutely not. For one thing, you and your mom would have ended up killing each other. And for another…..your head is giving you enough grief as it is right now, and being around her would have just made it worse. I couldn’t do that to you.”

I see Chris reach for my shirt and groan, knowing how much it hurts my arm to put a damn shirt on.

“How bad does it look?”

“Your arm?”

I nod slightly and he sighs. “It’s still really raw and red. It’s going to fade, but it’s going to take some time. The doctor recommended some stuff that’s supposed to help with scars. Make them less visible over time.”

“Can I see it?” I ask.

“Are you sure?” he asks. I shrug a bit.

He picks me up off the toilet seat and walks us in front of the bathroom mirror and turns so I can see my arm. I suck in a shuddering breath and close my eyes. It’s ugly. A roughly five inch or so vertical incision straight down my upper arm, red and raw and glaringly obvious. Even when it’s fully healed, it’s going to be ugly.

“If you want, I can always talk to Josh. We can see if he can draw something up so you can cover it up once it’s fully healed.”

I nod as tears leak out of my eyes. Chris tilts my chin up. “It’s just a scar. It doesn’t define you and it’s not the end of the world. It doesn’t make you any less beautiful.” He pivots so my ass is sat on the bathroom vanity and once I’m settled, he pulls the shirt over my head, being gentle with my arm, and then helps me into a clean pair of pajama pants.

“You know, we’re actually getting kind of good at this.” he says as he carries me out of the bathroom and sets me down in our bed.

“I hate that that’s something to brag about.” I tell him, rolling my eyes. “Although, I guess after doing the same thing day after day for a couple weeks, it’s to be expected. You don’t look quite as terrified now as you did the first time we did this.”

February 2nd (one month post accident)

“I’m sorry I didn’t call sooner….I was in a pretty serious car accident a month ago and things have been a little hectic since then. I haven’t been cleared by my doctor to fly yet, so there’s no way we can make it out there. Mmmmhmmm. Yeah, the reservation is under Kelly Evans.”

Chris walks into the kitchen and starts making himself a cup of coffee while I’m on hold with the resort to cancel the Valentines Day reservations I had made back in November. I had a solid plan that I had cooked up with Meghan and his team so he wouldn’t have anything scheduled for the three days I had booked at Post Ranch Inn, but then between finding out about the affair and the accident, my carefully made plan got blown straight to hell, leaving me feeling a little (lot) angry.

“Okay. Thank you again for all your help. I’m sorry again for the late notice.”

I end the call and toss my cell phone onto the island, irritation bubbling up inside me.

“Who was that?”

“Canceling the reservation I made for us for Valentines Day at Post Ranch Inn. I made it before I found out about you fucking someone else. That kind of took the romance out of it a little bit. Well, that and the fact that my body’s still mostly useless.”

My newly (as of two days ago) uncasted leg starts itching to high hell under the walking boot and compression sock I have on, and I start the process of unstrapping the boot one handed so I can enjoy scratching my leg to my heart’s content. I wish I could have gotten a picture of Chris and the doctor’s faces when my cast was finally cut off and a fork, two pens, and a plastic ruler came tumbling out of it, all lost in my attempt to wedge something down there to scratch the itch.

He sighs lightly and turns so his back is to the counter, giving me what I’ve coined his “kicked puppy look.” Most of the time, I feel guilty for whatever I said to make that look appear, but today I’m just too agitated to care.

“Don’t give me that look. You do it every single time I mention the fact that you had sex with someone else. You know what you did. You don’t get to make that face and look like I just told you that Disneyland is closing down forever.”

He walks over to where I’m sitting with a sigh, and reaches to help me with the straps on my boot. “Can we not fight? Please? I know that there’s an ocean of stuff we have to work through, and I know none of this is easy…I just don’t want to fight with you.”

“Just stop. I can do it myself." I tell him, brushing his hand away softly. "You know, just because I still need you to help with most of my basic human functions doesn’t mean that I necessarily like being around you all the time. You’re my husband and for some God forsaken reason, even though you did what you did, I still love you, despite me calling you a cheating shitbag in my head at least once a day. So, just leave me alone for a little while, okay? I was really excited about having this trip happen, and it all got blown to hell in a really magnificent fashion, so let me just sit here and be pissed off and sad about it.”

He holds his hands up and backs away. “Okay. I can do that. Just, we have your doctor’s appointment at 2, so let me know when you need me to come help you get ready.” I look up at him and nod, spinning my phone on the table. He starts to walk away, but then turns back towards me.

“You know, when the accident happened and you were out of surgery, I kind of went into crisis mode. I called my team and canceled everything, because I knew that you were going to need someone to be there for you and help take care of you until you were stronger. And I know that you have a million people that are in our lives that would drop everything and do that for you, because you’re amazing and everyone loves you so much. The parade of people that have come and gone through here since you’ve been home is proof of that. I kind of just took charge, because I didn’t know what else to do….and I don’t think I took the time to stop and ask myself if you even wanted it to be me, given everything that happened.”

“Chris….I did. I wouldn’t have felt comfortable having anyone else do it.”

He nods. “I know that it’s hard for you to be around me sometimes. I know that you’re still angry, and hurt and upset and you have every right to be. I know we’re a mess, but once things settle down a little bit, we’ll get in to go see that therapist that Carly told me about, and we’ll start working through it. That is, if you still want to.”

“I do.”

-------------------------

A few hours later, we’re sitting in the waiting room of my gynecologist’s office, and Chris is just staring around the room at the posters on the wall, and occasionally glancing at the couple of pregnant women that are in the waiting room with us.

“Why did you need to see her?” he asks softly.

“I’m overdue for my annual exam, and since all I do lately is go to the doctor, I figured I should probably just get it out of the way.” It’s a half truth. Well, ⅓ truth. If the doctor was right about my hcG levels when I was in the hospital, I’m about six weeks pregnant, and it’s probably time to get official confirmation in black and white. And if I am, Chris deserves to be there to hear it. But first, he needs to get something done himself.

The nurse comes by and hands us both a clipboard with paperwork on it, and Chris’ eyebrows raise. “Why do I get paperwork?”

The nurse clears her throat nervously and taps a section on the paperwork. STD test, with the works. She walks away to let us fill out the papers, and his eyes shoot to mine.

“I used a condom. I told you that. I'm not an idiot.” he says softly.

“I don’t care. I need to see it for myself, for my own peace of mind.”

He’s called back first, and with a nervous swallow and a look back at me, he follows the nurse. I’m called back shortly after, and after blood work, urine test, and the internal exam, Chris is allowed back into the exam room to wait with me while the results come back.

“You want to grab something to eat after this? You didn’t have much for breakfast earlier.” he asks.

“Uh, yeah, I-” I’m interrupted by a knock on the door followed by Dr. Hartman coming back in. By the look on her face, I just know.

“Congratulations, you guys are pregnant.”

Chris is lucky that there’s a chair right behind him, or he would have been in a world of pain when he landed. When I see him basically collapse into the chair, I get worried.

“Mr. Evans, are you okay?” Dr. Hartman asks, reaching for his wrist to check his pulse. His face is a look of pure shock, like he can’t begin to comprehend what he just heard.

“Chris?” I ask, my own emotions threatening to spill out despite knowing this was coming. I instantly feel bad for not giving him a heads up that this was a very real chance. His eyes find mine and we just stare at each other.

“I’m okay. I just- it’s- are you sure?” he asks, his voice unsteady. The doctor steps away, seemingly convinced that a movie star isn’t going to drop dead of shock in one of her exam rooms. “The tests are extremely accurate, but I’m going to go ahead and do a transvaginal ultrasound so we can take a look. If you’re far enough along, we should be able to hear the heartbeat.”

Since I’m still in the gown and haven’t gotten dressed yet, I lay back on the table and assume the position again as she pulls the ultrasound machine towards her. Chris gets up on unsteady legs and stands next to me, still looking shell shocked.

“Okay, this is going to be a little uncomfortable. Just take a nice deep breath.” she warns. I do as she says, but I still make a face when the probe is inserted. Chris is torn between watching my face and wanting to see what’s happening on the screen. Me, I’m too afraid to look anywhere but his face. For as much trepidation as I’m feeling over this pregnancy, I’m overcome with the sudden fear that she’s going to find the baby and there’s not going to be a heartbeat, just like last time, and I honestly don’t know if I can go through that twice.

“There it is.” I hear from next to me. I watch as his eyes move from mine to the screen, seeing the tiny blob in the middle of my uterus with the little flicker in the middle. A heartbeat. I still can’t bring myself to look though. Dr. Hartman, who was the one who told me that I had miscarried and performed my D&C, senses my fear, and quietly hits a button on the machine. The sound is almost overwhelming as it fills the room. I have a crazy thought that it almost sounds like clothes in the washer as it’s agitating. Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh. It's loud and fast and sounds strong. My eyes snap to the screen, and I immediately bring my hand to my mouth and burst into tears.

“From the size, it looks like you’re about six or seven weeks. Which is going to put the due date at about….” she stops to put some numbers into the computer. September 23rd, give or take.”

After printing off some pictures and leaving the room to let me get cleaned up and get dressed, we leave the office feeling a million different emotions. We’re both quiet on the drive home, both lost in thought. How many times have we wished for this? How many negative pregnancy tests have we seen and tossed angrily into the trash, tears threatening to spill. How many times did we say “It’s okay. It’ll happen. I know it.” only for it to happen during the worst period in our marriage?

-------------------------------

When we get home, I slowly waddle into the house, still enjoying the feeling of being able to (somewhat) walk instead of being chained to that damn wheelchair. I make my way to the back door to let Dodger out, passing Lisa, who’s watching both Chris and I with a curious, careful gaze.

I feel him behind me as I turn on the tap, filling a glass with water and downing it almost all in one gulp.

“How are you feeling?” he asks softly. He can see my hand trembling slightly as I hold the glass, and he knows he has to tread lightly.

“In general? Or about the fact that we found out I’m pregnant in the middle of our personal shit storm?”

“Both.” I drop my head. Truth be told, I’m exhausted. My arm is killing me, the nerve pain making burning pins and needles radiate over my whole arm. My leg is aching from being on it for an extended amount of time.

I’ve been trying to roll it over and around in my head for weeks. What to do if I really did have the shittiest luck in the world, and I did end up actually pregnant in this situation. I keep coming back to the bad joke that my brother made the night I found out about Chris about me not having to deal with all of this while I was pregnant.

“I don’t know if I can do this.” My voice is soft, but he hears it like I’m screaming it. “I don’t know if I can have this baby. I don’t know if my body can handle it, and I don’t know if I can handle it emotionally.”

The words punch through him like a hit from a prize fighter. He knows exactly when it happened; the night that you had come over to get a dress from your closet and we had ended up defling quite a few surfaces in the house. There’s a good chance that our baby was conceived on the dining room table.

“Are you talking about-” he can’t even bring himself to say the words. He KNOWS this the worst timing for this to happen. He KNOWS that no matter what, it’s your choice. But the thought of not having this baby with you almost brings him to his knees.

My breath hitches. “Chris, look at us. Take a good look at me, at my body. I’m broken. I’m still recovering. I’d have to be monitored more closely to make sure that everything is okay. Because we don’t know if it will be.” The thought of finally getting everything I wanted with my husband and then not having it makes my chest hurt.

“I’ve wanted kids with you since the moment you told me you loved me for the first time, and that I was it for you. I knew that you were going to be the father of my kids one day. But now, with everything, I don’t know if that’s the case anymore.”

The tears are burning my eyes, and I can feel the sobs starting to build in my throat, and I know if I don’t get out of this room right now, I’m going to lose it. I’m pretty sure that Lisa heard at least part of our conversation, and I can’t talk about it anymore without losing my mind. I set my glass in the sink and silently make my way upstairs, thinking that two of the worst conversations I’ve had in my life have come within months of each other and have both taken place in the kitchen that I loved. Now I can barely stand to be in it.

#blue christmas #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans #chris evans x wife #chris evans x kelly evans #pregnancy #angst #cheating #jenn writes

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paarthurnax59 · 1 year

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"Searching For Eden"

Pairings: Hugh Jackman x Reader (future), Chris Evans x Ex-wife!Reader

Warnings: major angst, cheating, Chris being a horrible husband, divorce, heartbreak, sad reader, slow burn romance, Hugh being a sweetheart, romance, talks of smut and sexual tension.

Notes: I don’t think Chris act like this and this not to portray anything in a bad light. Don’t like it, then please do not engage.

Introduction: Back in 2004, you married Chris Evans, the love of your life. You both went to the same school sense you were five, grew up together and dated in high school. You two tied the knot after you graduated from college and started your acting career along with him. You two had been married for two years, until Chris started becoming more distant and bitter towards you and you two began fighting more. Things grew worse until one day he admitted to cheating with younger woman. You told him it was over and wanted a divorce. One day when you were getting ready for packing your bags, he comes to you with a contract saying that you have to sign a non-disclosure agreement that you would never be able reveal Chris’s infidelity to the media. He told you that you would never work in Hollywood again. After Chris got you to sign the contract and the divorce, head back home to your parents. Never in your life had you felt more betrayed. You vowed you would never open your heart again to another man.

Six months later in 2007, you got role on a new movie being filmed called “Searching for Eden”. A story about a biblical, post-apocalyptic world where a loving wife and husband fight for survival together in a hellish world taken over by demons. As you get on the movie set, you meet the actor to play your husband. Hugh Jackman, the Australian heart throb, and your life-long celebrity crush. As the movie production moves forward, the two of you grew closer. You were starting to feel happy and whole again after developing a deep, profound friendship with the talented aussie. When filming was done, you head home to Massachusetts, but kept in touch. You asked and talk to one another whenever you could. During Thanksgiving, your younger sisters show you the news of Chris, your ex-husband, was now engaged to the woman who cheated on you with. You break down and run out of the house in extreme distress and heartbreak.

Hugh, hearing this news, called you to see if you were okay. You start to open to him more about your divorce and told him about how he cheated and forced a disclosure contract to keep his public persona intact. Hugh decided that you should come to Australia for a while after Christmas. You arrive and Hugh insisted on you staying at his home. Over the next few months, you and Hugh grow even closer to one another. He tells you more about his home life and opened about his own childhood and his broken marriage. Eventually, your schoolgirl crush develops into something that runs deeper than what you never thought possible since your divorce.

Love.

Whether they are reciprocated? You could not say. The man is almost 13 years older than you. He was far out of your league with him so kind, intelligent, hardworking, funny and one of the most successful actors in Hollywood. No way on this planet he would really want someone like you. A woman who’s first husband cheated on her and shattered her trust in love all together. A person who believed would never be good enough for someone who was so perfect as the X-men star. You feared it would ruin his reputation and image by making him look like a creep for spending time and falling for a much younger woman. So you buried them, hoping that the feeling would go away.

What you didn’t know was that Hugh felt, from the very moment he met you. If it weren’t for your own grief and sorrow, you would have noticed on how Hugh always looked at you. Like you were God’s gift to the world. Never had he met a more beautiful, caring, genuine, intelligent woman in his thirty-nine years of life.

How could that idiot yank cast aside such a perfect human being like that? For another girl that was not nearly as amazing as you? He would think to himself on more than one occasion in regarding to Chris Evans. If he were him, he would be a complete fool to take a woman like you for granted. He would give anything for you to never feel that pain again.

Can You get over your broken marriage and trust for the chance to fall for another and start a new?

#hugh jackman #hughjackman fan fiction #Chris Evans #fluff #angst #cheating #divorce

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dungeonpuppykai · 1 month

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Chris as Syd does things to me 🦋🦋🦋🦋🦋 watch London, bestie (ik he's an ass there but he's so fcking hot words can't explain)

OMG YES YES YES!

I actually have watched the movie (quite recently might I confess) and I agree that he was a problematic mf but he's my guilty pleasure I love that pretty boy so much 🥺🩷

Syd is one of those jerks that trigger my 'I can totes fix this cute asshole with my love uwu' complex 💀🤣🩷

#ill never shut up about how at least he cared enough to chase her #and didnt cheat or something #not all of us can have that #:')#but the lesser of two evils is still evil and thats also true #but we are only human arent we #ask kai #anon ask 🩷#anon love 🩷#syd london #chris evans syd #london 2005 #chris evans #chris evans characters

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oh-my-damn · 2 years

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Sweet Heartache - Part 3

A/N: Third installment in my Andy Barber series, Sweet Heartache.

Series Masterlist

Pairing: DA!Andy Barber x Intern!Reader

Series Summary: You’re an intern at the DA’s office, finishing up your law degree on the side. When Andy Barber, the new DA, needs help to sort out a few overdue cases, it hurls you into his world, filled with conflicted feelings, emotions too deep to process, and heartache.

Chapter Summary: Andy takes you out to lunch after Laurie interrupted your plans. Jason finally reaches out, asking you on a date. Laurie makes a suggestion that makes Andy feel even more conflicted than before.

Chapter warnings: Talk of separation/divorce, talk of cheating, sexual tension, pining, angst, emotions, conflicted feelings. Reader goes on a date with someone else. Andy gets jealous. Laurie is an asshole.

Word Count: 4700

The beautiful divider is by @firefly-graphics

You're sitting across the table from Andy in a small café just down the street from your work.

He brought you here despite you telling him several times that it was very unnecessary, but he wouldn't hear it.

When you sat down, he recommended a few different dishes, but seeing as you'd already eaten a sandwich, you weren't sure if you'd even be able to eat.

"The soup is really great," he says with a smile, "That should be fine if you're not that hungry."

You chuckle and nod, shrugging, "Okay, sure. I like soup."

Andy smiles widely in response. This is the second time you've taken his word for it, allowing him to choose for you, and it's bringing out a lot of strange feelings in him.

Laurie usually never lets him pick for her, she rarely takes his word for it or lets him decide on anything. She's always been the one with the most opinions, leaving Andy to take a step back in most matters. In general he just preferred to hold back, not wanting to create any issues over something that didn't truly matter to him.

But this feeling running through him right now is new. He's not used to that. It's like electricity coursing through his veins, the trust you have in him already intoxicating.

It also makes his cock stiffen in his pants when you let him make decisions on your behalf. He can't explain that one, and he does his best to hide it, not needing another incident like the one in his office earlier.

Even Laurie had noticed after she'd put the take-out bag down on his desk, and she actually tried to initiate something, but he quickly shot her down, using the excuse that he couldn't possibly do that in his office, someone might walk in.

She'd bought it, but she also looked intrigued, figuring he was hard because of her. He's not sure what that'll mean in the long run, but he's just going to have to deal with it.

Truth is, they haven't been intimate in a long time. Once Andy realized she was cheating, he didn't react but he withdrew himself, choosing instead to throw himself into his work. And ever since the separation, they certainly hadn't, even if their couple therapist had recommended it.

But Andy hadn't felt real lust in years. As time passed, the sex had become comfortable, but also boring, and at some point, he just started not really caring about it. Despite the fact that he'd always had a very high sex drive in the past.

But then you walked through the door.

The first time you walked into his office, placing a legal brief on his desk, he felt it instantly. He hadn't acknowledged you, letting you leave without a word after handing him the document, but his eyes had lingered on how your hips swayed as you left his office. He hadn't said anything to you back then because he was so surprised himself, at his own reaction. And he certainly didn't want you to notice.

When you started spending time in his office to help him, it became easier to tame. Not because he didn't still want you, but because he was able to distract himself from the pure desire burning through his veins whenever he looked at you.

You would make a joke, or do something silly, and it would pull his focus away. Which was probably for the best.

If you didn't have that amazing ability to make him forget about everything else than how beautiful your laugh is, he would have probably fucked everything up already.

The night at the bar was a slip up. You'd rejected his advance, and he'd instantly regretted his actions. That was the reason he took on another intern instead; he couldn't bear to look at you, knowing he'd made you uncomfortable like that.

He can't excuse the drunken night where he showed up at your doorstep. That was a mishap. A major one.

He knows why, though he could never tell you. He's never felt as disappointed as when only Katie had walked through the door at the bar, you missing by her side. He drank a lot more that night than usual, and when Katie invited Trey back to her place, he tagged along in the Uber.

He was planning to go home, he really was, but when Katie mentioned that you lived on the floor right below her, he couldn't stop himself. He followed them inside, asking Katie to borrow her bathroom, and as soon as he could, he told them he was going home, only with the intention of sneaking down to your apartment. And once he was inside your apartment, invading the space that was just so inherently you, there was nothing in this world that could have possibly made him leave.

It was stupid, he knows that. It was a fuck up. He shouldn't have done it, it was a terrible idea through and through, but it did eventually lead to the two of you talking that Saturday morning. And now he felt more comfortable around you than ever.

He'd had every intention of buying you lunch today, perhaps even taking you out somewhere fancy to impress you, so to say he was mildly disappointed to see his wife walk through the door would be an understatement.

He knew what he was doing was risky, dangerous even, because he could feel himself slipping, his resolve breaking.

He wanted to be near you all the time, he wanted to see you every time he looked up from his work. And he missed you when you weren't around.

And that is a very dangerous feeling for a married man to have for someone who isn't his wife.

"Thank you for taking me here."

Your voice brings him out of his thoughts, a small smile making its way onto his lips.

"You're welcome, sweetheart. I promised you lunch; it was the least I could do."

He notices how your cheeks heat up a little at the term of endearment, making him smile more. He loves how responsive you are, your face is like an open book to him.

He notices every little expression, every flustered state and even when your breath hitches, despite you doing your best to hide it.

You smile, taking a sip of your water before your face turns more serious, "So, how was lunch?"

Andy sighs inwardly. He would rather not think about Laurie when you're near him, he would rather pretend she isn't an issue. But she is, he knows that, and he knows that you know that, too.

Whatever confusing feelings he has right now, he is still married. He fell in love with a woman, or at least so he thought, and they got married and had a child.

He feels guilty when the thought hits him, he shouldn't be thinking about anyone who isn't his wife. Even if said wife did cheat on him.

"It was good," he replies quietly, glancing away from you, "It was.. lunch."

He shrugs, eyes meeting yours again tentatively.

"Did you have fun?"

He snorts, "Fun?"

"Yeah," you smile, filling your spoon with soup after the waiter brings it over, "Fun."

Andy chuckles dryly, "I don't know if I would call it fun."

"Why not?" you ask curiously, carefully blowing on your soup before bringing it to your lips, humming at the taste when you swallow.

Andy's brows furrow, "Well, it's not usually fun. It just.. is. I don't know how to explain it, but I wouldn't exactly call our time together fun."

That makes you frown. You tilt your head as you say, "That's kinda sad."

Andy nods, shrugging as he looks down at the silver cutlery placed on the table, "I guess so."

"Did you ever have fun?"

His smile is strained when he speaks, "Yeah, back when we were younger, I suppose. But it's been years since it's been actually fun."

"So you never have fun?" You ask quietly, eyes searching his face.

He looks up at you, offering you a soft smile, "I didn't say that. I said I didn't have fun, with her."

Your eyes widen slightly, a shy smile playing at your lips before you nod, eating another spoonful of soup.

He does have fun, although he's been having a surprisingly larger amount of it ever since you started grazing him with your presence.

He loves the little jokes you like to make, or when you blurt out your thoughts randomly. It's endlessly entertaining.

"Well, I'm glad you have some fun, at least," You say with a teasing smile.

Andy chuckles, taking a sip of the water next to him, "I do, sweetheart. I definitely do."

"How's your soup?" He asks, jutting his chin in your direction, "You like it?"

You hum, eating another spoonful before you nod, "Absolutely. It's delicious. Thank you for recommending it."

"Anytime, sweetheart."

You smile softly at his words, your eyes moving back to your soup as you continue eating.

Andy watches you for a moment, letting the warm feeling inside him overtake his mind.

Sometimes, he thinks about what would have happened if he hadn't met Laurie. He wouldn't have Jacob, and he hates that thought, but even with that in mind, he still wonders.

He wonders what would have happened if he hadn't ever married, or if he'd gotten divorced ten years ago when their marriage first started falling apart.

He would be single, free to explore these foreign feelings that are now fluttering inside him.

He would be free to ask you on a date, free to get to know you without restrictions. He would be free to kiss you, once you'd told him you wanted him to.

Andy wasn't arrogant, but he knew for certain you must wonder the same. He knows you think about him, clearly realizing that you shouldn't.

The pull he feels towards you is too strong for you not to feel it.

He shakes his head, pulling himself out of his thoughts before he says, "Once we're done here, we'll go back to my office to work."

You look up at him, your brows furrowed in concern, "Andy, are you sure that's a good idea?"

"Yes," he replies firmly, "If my wife has an issue, she can take it up with me. You shouldn't have to worry about any of this."

You nod slowly, offering him a small smile before finishing your soup.

The next three days flew by in a blur. Andy got a bunch of new cases dropped onto his desk and it deflated you a little.

You were doing great, almost having worked through the pile, before another stack was added to it.

This job was exhausting, and it wasn't even yours.

The constant pressure he's always under must be terrible, and you could understand why he spends so much time at work when he should probably have spent it with his family.

Jason messaged you on Tuesday and asked, very politely, if you'd be interested in joining him for lunch on Thursday.

You accepted his offer immediately, figuring you should do any and everything to distract yourself from your conflicting feelings for Andy, and the next day he sent you an address to a restaurant not too far away from the office.

You cleared it with your actual boss, Evelyn, who's in charge of the interns, and she said you were fine to take an hour for lunch that day.

She was very nice, an older lady who's clearly worked there since forever, but she reminds you a little bit of your grandmother, which means you spoke to her the same way. She seemed to appreciate that, and perhaps she also liked you a little better than the rest because you were the only intern who wasn't 18 and floundering around like a deer in headlights.

You're sitting on Andy's couch, just about to gather your things before you need to leave for your lunch date with Jason, when Andy speaks.

"Does sandwiches for lunch work for you? I have to go to the courthouse this afternoon so I don't have a lot of time."

You look up at him with a smile, "Oh, I won't be around for lunch, so feel free to order whatever you want."

His eyes snap up from his computer, immediately meeting yours, "Why won't you be here for lunch?"

"I'm going out," you reply with a shrug, getting up from the couch as you start collecting your things.

"Where are you going?"

His stern tone makes you glance at him, noticing his furrowed brows.

You smile again, in an effort to appease him, "Just some restaurant. I'm going out to lunch with a friend."

"What friend?"

The question makes you frown. Why is he asking? It's technically none of his business.

You blink a few times before you lift the files off the table and pull them against your chest, "Oh, uh, I'm going to lunch with Jason, actually."

His jaw tenses immediately.

His eyes are boring into yours intensely as he asks, "Jason? Why are you going to lunch with Jason?"

"He asked me if I wanted to go out for lunch and I said yes," you reply with a shrug.

You lift your bag onto your shoulder with your free hand, not noticing the fire burning behind his eyes.

"How did he ask you?"

"He got my number when we met at the bar," you reply casually, adjusting the shoulder strap before you look up at him, "He texted me the other day and asked me out to lunch."

Your brows furrow again when you look at Andy, noticing his jaw clenching and the tense expression on his face.

You tilt your head as you ask, "Uhm, do you mind? I know he's your friend, but I figured-"

"No," Andy interrupts, eyes moving to his computer, "It's fine."

You nod once, straightening up a little before you say, "Alright, well, I'll be back in about an hour."

"I'll be in court by then," he replies sternly, not looking at you.

"Okay," you nod, "Well, I'll see you tomorrow, then. Good luck in court!"

You turn, walking out of his office as you faintly hear him mumbling out a thanks.

The lunch with Jason went pretty well. He's nice, and not bad looking at all, and the conversation was pleasant. It flowed easily, no awkward silences, so overall it was a good experience.

Normally that would make you happy, you might even have considered starting to date him, but you knew there was no point.

Because despite conversation flowing easily, despite enjoying his company, despite having no awkward silences between you.. Something was missing.

And it is that same something that makes your heart race and your skin prickle whenever you are in the same room as Andy Barber.

Rationally, you knew that focusing too much on whatever you felt for your boss was a bad idea, but it had also shown you what you were supposed to feel for someone else. And it now meant you weren't willing to settle for anything less.

You kept the lunch friendly and casual, and when you parted ways, you gave him a hug. Subtly indicating that, despite finding him quite nice and sweet, your lunch shouldn't be considered an actual date.

Unfortunately, Andy didn't realize the same.

After you left his office, he spent the next ten minutes grinding his teeth, willing the unpleasant feeling swirling inside him to go away.

When he left to go to court, the feeling was still there, triggered by the fact that he knew what you were currently doing. He had no doubt in his mind that you were laughing at those stupid jokes Jason always makes, and he knew for a fact that Jason would be flirting with you openly.

He loved Jason, he was a good friend, but it was hard to remember that fact when his mind kept drifting to what exactly you two might be doing.

It even took part of his focus, his mind drifting as he sat in the courtroom, listening to the opposing councils opening statement.

Andy already knew he had a problem, he already knew what was happening was a bad idea, but now he realized that he was also completely, utterly fucked.

After court, he didn't go back to his office despite having time to do so. The only thing he wanted to do was go home. He didn't want to risk going to work only to run into you and have you tell him how great your date with Jason had been.

Andy just wanted to go home and sulk in peace, perhaps watch a movie with Jacob. He loved watching those old black and white movies, and it was a tradition between them that Andy cherished. Perhaps spending time with his son, his family, would help get his mind right.

After driving home, the afternoon sun hanging low in the sky, Andy drops down on the large couch in their living room with an audible sigh, the emotional whirlwind of today taking a toll on him. He didn't know how to feel or how to dismantle his thoughts, he didn't know how to sift through them.

And it didn't exactly help when his wife walked through the door, only reminding him that despite everything already being pretty shitty, it could always get worse.

"A date? What do you mean?"

"I mean; a date night," Laurie says with a smile, "You know, like we used to."

Andy frowns, "But.. We aren't what we used to.. So why do you want to have date night?"

"Andy," Laurie sighs, "If we don't at least try, then what's the point of this?"

He had a hard time arguing with that. What exactly was the point of being separated, but still living in the same house, if you weren't at least going to actively try to work things out?

"Okay," he nods, the frown still creating a deep wrinkle between his brows, "I guess you're right. But we haven't been doing that so far, what made you change your mind?"

Laurie shrugs nonchalantly as she unpacks the grocery bags sitting on the kitchen island, "I just figured it was time we actually did at least some of the things Kristen recommended."

Kristen. Their couples therapist. She had given them a list of things they should do, stuff they should do together, to try and work their way back to where they once were. On there had been date nights, even specified to explain that they should be without Jacob, and they should leave the house. Go to a restaurant, watch a movie, whatever you can think of that breaks your routine, she had said.

Initially, Andy had believed it was a good idea. He could understand how spending more alone time together might be good for them, but now it just made the anxious knot in his stomach bigger. Because on that list had also been intimacy. And he wasn't ready to explore that with her now, at this point he wasn't sure if he ever would be.

He didn't necessarily want to spend alone time with Laurie, and after the day he's had, he was really looking forward to watching a movie with Jacob.

When did that happen? When exactly did it change for him, when did he go from wanting to fix his marriage, work on things, to not even wanting to have dinner with her?

Andy knows exactly when it changed. But he can't allow himself to think about it.

Instead, he nods swiftly as he says, "Alright, let's have date night."

Andy is doing... fine. The steak he got is fine, the wine he's drinking is fine, and being out to dinner with Laurie is.. fine.

Everything is fine. But none of it is great. He wishes for the life of him he could create that sparkling electricity between the two of them, between him and his wife, the woman he vowed to love.

But he can't.

It's just not there.

Laurie is telling him about this history podcast she's been listening to, and Andy is listening, pretending to be interested, just like he always does.

But his mind is elsewhere.

He knows this is a good idea; trying to rekindle their relationship is smart, it's the right choice. Especially considering you just went on a date earlier today.

So he's doing his very best to try and find that tension between the two of them, the one he feels whenever you're near. He's trying so hard to find everything she says interesting, mesmerizing, just like he does whenever you speak.

But it's simply not there.

No, the interest isn't there, until the very moment Laurie's phone vibrates on the table.

Laurie immediately flips her phone over, hiding the screen from him, but Andy saw what it said. He saw the name flashing across the screen.

And suddenly he's very interested.

"So," he says with a sigh, eating a bite of his steak, "You're still seeing him."

Laurie sends him a pointed look, "Who?"

He puts down his utensils, the silverware clashing against his plate as he looks at her, "You know exactly who."

"I'm not seeing him anymore," she replies casually, eating a piece of broccoli off her plate, "I already told you that."

"Then why is he calling?"

"It wasn't him calling."

That does it.

Andy releases a heavy sigh before he leans closer to where she's sitting across the table, his voice a harsh whisper, "Laurie, if you're still seeing him, if you still want to see him, then do that. But don't fucking lie to me and tell me you want to try and fix this, only for you to go back and do the same thing you did before. If you're not going to be fateful to this marriage, to me, then say that. Let me go, release me from this fucking mess and we can both move on. You can be with him if you want, if that's who you truly want. But don't fucking sit there and lie to my face, pretending I'm the one you want to be with when I'm not."

Andy knows part of the words he just spoke could be thrown right back in his face. Because he himself don't know what he truly wants, who he truly wants. But getting Laurie to admit that their marriage is over would make everything easier, that way he wouldn't be the bad guy for wanting you. If she left him, he wouldn't feel guilty for pursuing you.

She stays silent for a moment before slowly raising a brow, "That intern I met is very cute."

Andy scoffs, leaning back in his chair, "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

Laurie shrugs, taking a sip of her wine before she replies, "Maybe you should just do the same. Get it out of your system. I saw the way you were looking at her, and you clearly weren't excited about me the other day. Maybe you should just follow your urges, give in to them. That way we're both cheating, we're both doing a bad thing, and we can move forward. Try to mend this with a clean slate."

Andy's brows pull into a deep frown, disbelief etched across his face.

How dare she fucking say that? And how dare she think he would ever do that, not just in general, but to you?

He shakes his head, looking at her sternly, "You're fucking insane."

"No, I'm not," she replies with a small smile. She leans closer to him across the table, placing her hand on top of his own, "Think about it, Andy. We would both be doing it to each other, we would be equal in that sense. No one would be the bad guy. And we could work on our marriage, stay together for Jacob, just like we always said we would. You know it would break him if we divorced. Do you really want to hurt him like that?"

Andy's eyes widen slowly as he listens to her speak. Of course he doesn't want to hurt Jacob, she knows that, that's the exact reason she's saying this. But staying together for Jacob, solely for Jacob, while seeing other people on the side.. What's the point of that?

"So you think it would fix our marriage if we both saw other people? Slept with other people?"

"It might," she replies, looking at him sincerely, "We're not happy together, like that, anymore. Other people could make us happy. And we could bring that happiness home, use it to our advantage."

"Why would we stay together if we don't make each other happy?"

"I already told you, Andy. For Jacob. We'd do it for Jacob."

You spent a few hours after lunch working at the office but it really wasn't as fun without Andy there to distract you from your work.

You went home at 5pm, mentally exhausted, a giddy excitement running through you at the thought of spending the night on the couch, watching movies.

By the time 10.30pm rolls around, you've happily watched two very silly rom-coms, and start to get ready for bed.

Just as you've shrugged on your oversized night shirt, however, you're startled by a knock at the door.

You check your phone for the time, a slight unease running through at the realization that it's almost 11pm. Normally you wouldn't answer, solely from feeling uncomfortable, worried that it might be someone trying to break in or wanting to hurt you on the other side, but when there's another impatient knock, you relent.

You take slow steps toward the door, hesitantly peeking through the peephole.

What the hell is this, fucking groundhog day?

You roll your eyes in amusement as you pull the door open, chuckling as you speak, "What, got too drunk again? I think you have a problem, Mr. Barber."

You grin up at him once the door is open, but your smile immediately falters when you notice the look on his face.

He looks sad, hurt, like he's in pain, and you instantly regret your words.

"Andy, are you okay?"

You tilt your head, taking a step closer to where he's standing on the other side of the threshold, the blue eyes meeting yours filled with sadness.

"Can I come in?"

You nod immediately, stepping back inside your apartment before he follows you. You close the door behind him, watching him hesitantly as he stands in your hallway, his wool coat hanging heavy on his shoulders.

Your words are a quiet whisper, worried if you speak any louder, he might break like a piece of glass, "Andy, what's wrong? Are you okay?"

He holds your gaze for a moment and the look that meets you almost makes you feel physical pain, before his eyes dart to the ground.

His voice is deep and hoarse as he speaks, wavering slightly, "No I.. I'm not okay.. Could I.. I'm sorry, I know I shouldn't even ask this, but I don't know where else to go. Can I stay here? Just for a few days, just until I find a place.."

He looks back up at you, his eyes sad but hopeful, and your heart breaks at the sight.

Until he finds a place? Did he finally leave her? You don't want to think about it too much, ignoring the way your heart thuds excitedly at his words.

You take a step closer, reaching your hand out to touch his arm, "Yeah, of course. Anything you need. Of course."

"Thank you," he whispers, eyes scanning yours warily, "Really. I appreciate it."

You watch him for another moment before the urge takes over. You quickly take another step before you wrap your arms around him, pulling him into a tight hug.

He reciprocates, his strong arms wrapping around your waist as his head drops to your shoulder.

You rub his back soothingly as you whisper, "It'll be alright, don't worry. You can stay here for as long as you need."

His arms tighten around you, holding you so close it makes you feel breathless as he whispers a solemn, "Thank you."

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pinkcloudsummer187 · 1 year

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Rumor is Alba is cheating on Chris....

#chris evans #chris and alba pr #is the end near #idk how this chick ended up on my fyp i don't go looking for celeb gossip #her blind items end up being right...#On another tik tok shes cheating on him with some dude name Lucas #¯\_(ツ)_/¯#I want chisme but I don't want chisme

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tonysslut · 2 years

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Second Chances. Chapter 3

Warnings: Slight angst, mentions of negative self-talk

W/C: 1.5k

Series Masterlist

Previous Chapter

A/N: I rewrote chapter 3 (working on chapter 4) to fit the story line better. Hopefully I'll have new chapters up soon!

You woke up the next morning with a pulsating headache, groaning as you stretched out your stiff muscles. Reluctantly, you get yourself out of bed and into the shower. Setting the temperature as hot as it would go, letting the water burn down your back, trying to wash away the heavy feeling you woke up with. To get rid of the heavy feeling you woke up with, you turned the water heater up as high as it would go, letting the water burn down your back.

You were sick of crying, that seemed to be the only thing you did lately. The pain just felt unbearable. You could physically feel it, deep in your stomach, like someone was repeatedly stabbing a wound that was never given the chance to heal.

Stepping out of the shower, you wrapped a towel around your body and stood in front of the mirror, wiping away the fog and taking a look at yourself. Your eyes were puffy and red, and your under eye circles were darker than usual, but you couldn't bring yourself to care. Throwing your hair into a bun and putting your clothes on as quickly as you could.

After your hot shower, you decided to phone Ivry, your best friend, to see if she could help you move into your apartment. She was the only person you kept in contact with after finding out Chris cheated. She never pushed or forced you to talk about it and you appreciated that. Sending her the address of the hotel and finished packing the small suitcase you had while waiting for her to arrive.

Three knocks on your door let you know she was here. Opening the door, you're greeted with a warm smile from your best friend. She walks in with two coffees, handing you one and pulling you in for a hug. She kisses the top of your head as you hug her back, instantly realizing how badly you needed the comfort.

“How are you holding up?” She asks when you pull away.

“I think I’m okay. I had to see Chris yesterday.” You sigh

“And how did that go?” She sits on the bed and helps you fold the pile of clothes that sits next to your suitcase.

“Not good. Before I left, I handed him the ring,” looking down at the tan line that wraps around your finger. “He didn’t want to take it, saying we could just work things out. We argued for a bit before I decided to just leave,” you say, picking at your cuticles, that heavy feeling from earlier starting to creep its way back.

“I’m so sorry, honey.” She places a hand on your thigh to try to comfort you.

“It’s okay, I just wanna get out of this hotel and start working on myself. I need to move on. Moping around isn’t going to do me any good.” you say as you take a sip of the warm beverage.

“Is everything in your car?” She asks and you respond with a small nod. “Then let’s get going, I can’t wait to see your new place!” She grabs your suitcase and makes her way out the door. You smile to yourself and follow her out.

One of the greeters helped you bring your boxes up to your apartment, making the trips back and forth go by a lot quicker. Carrying in the last box in, you shut the door and gaze around the empty space.

It’d been a while since you lived alone. You pretty much moved in with Chris when your acting career took off, not really having time to find a place of your own. A sinking feeling takes over as you think about when you first moved into his house.

“Welcome home, baby!” He says with a huge smile plastered on his face. Placing his hands under your thighs, he lifts you up, your legs instantly wrapping around his waist as you laugh. Chris walks over to the kitchen counter and gently sits you down.

He places a gentle kiss on your lips, thumbs rubbing circles into your thighs. You both grin as you kiss one another, resting your forehead against his when you break the kiss. “Are you sure you’re ready to spend every day with me?” You tease, heart fluttering when he wraps his arms around your waist.

“It’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

You distract yourself by sorting the boxes, putting everything in its corresponding room before ordering some groceries. Hearing Ivry setting up your laptop to play music as you set up the few things you had in the living room, breaking down the empty boxes and moving into the bathroom.

Halfway through finishing up the bathroom, your doorbell rings, letting you know your groceries had arrived. You put everything away and grab the bottle of wine with two glasses before making your way to your bedroom. Ivry sat in the middle of the room, folding your clothes into piles.

“Leave that. I can do it later.” You said, handing her a glass of wine.

“When is your furniture coming?” She takes a sip of the red liquid, looking around the empty room. You do the same, taking a seat on the opposite wall and leaning back against it.

“Some things come tomorrow. The rest comes next week.” You both sit there in silence for a bit, just enjoying each other's company. You slightly swirl the wine in your glass, mindlessly thinking about the whole situation.

“Chris said I threw away our relationship by not trying to fix what happened.” You say, staring at the floor. “But I just don’t understand how he can expect me to forgive him so easily? He spent three months lying to me, three fucking months.” Your eyes fill with angry tears.

“You have every right to not want to fix it. What he did is wrong, in every aspect. Forgiving him would probably just make him feel better about himself.” She watches you, noticing your tears.

“She’s really pretty.”

“Y/n..” she’s quick to interrupt

“No, but she is. She has this beautiful head of hair and long legs. Her smile is pretty, too. I can see why he chose her.” You let out a dry laugh. “The first few days after I left, I would spend all day comparing myself to her. I tore myself apart making the comparisons, and I think that hurts the most. The one thing I was most insecure about was my looks. I never thought I was good enough for him. And I was right.” You shrug, downing the rest of the wine in your glass. Ivry just sits there while you rant, knowing how badly you need to get these feelings off your chest.

“I know I can’t just blame him. She obviously knew we were together, so she isn’t innocent. But the way Chris didn’t even bother keeping it out of the public eye makes me so angry. Everyone knows, it’s everywhere. All over those stupid celebrity tea websites, on every headline, all over Twitter, everywhere! It’s so humiliating.” You groan and throw your head into your hands.

“I know, but you can’t let what other people think get to you. You’re beautiful, Y/N, believe it or not.” She shuffles closer to you, grabbing your face so you can look at her. “You did nothing wrong. You can be mad, or sad, or whatever you want to feel, but at the end of the day, this isn’t your fault.”

You just nod, letting her words sink in. She doesn’t push on the topic any longer, just places a kiss on your forehead and helps you sort out the rest of your clothes.

The two of you spend the next few hours drinking and unpacking. You even went as far as cracking a few jokes, laughing until your stomachs hurt. It felt good to have Ivry around. She felt like a breath of fresh air after the last few weeks.

It was dark by the time she left, repeating the words she told you earlier before telling you she’d stop by again in a few days. You cleaned up the empty boxes and spotted an extra box in the corner of your bedroom. Kneeling in front of it, you opened it up and saw more clothing, pulling them out and putting them into the closet. The last piece was a hoodie, but your heart dropped when you realized it belonged to Chris.

His cologne invaded your senses. You ran your hand over the worn down Patriots logo. Hesitantly, you pull it over your head, letting it drape over your body. Hot tears filled your eyes as you wrapped your arms around yourself. All the heartbreak you felt when you first confronted him was crashing down on you like a mountain of bricks.

You missed Chris more than you wanted to admit. You yearned for the carefree days, when you were happy, when he seemed like the perfect partner. Part of you wished you never found out, that he would’ve just ended it before you had the chance to piece everything together. You gave your all to him, and that wasn’t enough. You’d never be enough for him.

Taglist - @happinessinthebeing @martinaityte @maylaysia109 @raajali3 @rookiemartin @strangeions

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