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#ex!chris evans
evansbby · 2 years
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bestie pls feed us spanking blurb, the immediate urge and need to be over daddy mafia ari’s lap whilst he just ignores ur pleas and cries and pulls down ur panties and spanks u 🥺😌
I’m literally at an airport so this’ll have to be brief but here goes… 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫
Pairing: mafia!Ari Levinson x naive!reader
Warnings: dark!Ari, dd/lg, smut, spanking, daddy kink, voyeurism, dry-humping
Summary: Your daddy punishes you after you accidentally say a bad word.
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“Daddy, please!” You cry, desperately wiggling around in Ari’s strong arms. He’s got a death grip on you, however, and he’s barely using even a quarter of his strength. “Please, didn’t mean to say it! Please!”
You hate punishments — especially spankings because they hurt and make you cry like a baby — even when you try your hardest to be brave. Even right now, you look at Ari with the biggest puppy-dog expression, eyes welling with tears.
“Honey, you know daddy has to punish you. Else you’ll never learn.” Ari’s got his stern voice on, which lets you know that there’ll be no worming out of this one. He easily manoeuvres your flailing body across his lap, pinching the flesh of your ass in warning, “and stop moving or else I’ll use my belt.”
You still immediately. He’s never used his belt on you but you don’t want today to be the day he does.
Sniffling, you look over your shoulder at him dejectedly, “Said I was sorry, daddy. It’s just— the oven was so hot and I forgot I’m not allowed to use big girl words— it just came out, I swear.”
Ari sighs, methodically flipping your skirt up and pushing your panties down, and he can’t help but squeeze the bare flesh of your ass. “Well, that’s another strike, because you shouldn’t be using the oven without supervision anyways.”
You pout, “b-but I’m your wife— how else am I supposed to cook for you? Ow!”
Ari gives your ass a firm slap, admiring how it jiggles, “Don’t get sassy with me, honey. You’re my wife but you’re also my baby. And what have I told you about babies?”
You hang your head dejectedly and recite: “babies like me aren’t allowed to do big girl things without daddy’s permission.”
“Good girl.” Ari strokes your hair back, petting your head like you’re his puppy, and you can’t help but lean up into his touch. “Now, baby. I want you to count every spank, and thank daddy after each one. Got it?”
Your lower lip quivers but you try to be brave, “Y-Yes, daddy.”
SMACK.
“O-One. Thank you, daddy.”
You grimace, biting your lip to keep from crying out loud. And Ari’s really enjoying himself, squeezing and groping at your sizzling flesh after every few spanks, as if he can’t help himself. He even presses his lips down on the sensitive flesh of your ass cheek, kissing you softly before landing another harsh smack.
“Look at your little baby ass, practically begging for a good old-fashioned spanking.” Ari murmurs, jiggling your cheek lewdly and making you wince because it hurts so much. “Baby wives like you need their daddies to keep them in check like this every once in a while, don’t you agree, honey?”
SMACK.
“T-Ten, thank you, daddy! I agree!” You cry, silently begging for mercy yet at the same time wiggling downwards, unable to keep still because the rough denim of his jeans feels so good against your throbbing pussy.
“Now look at you, wet from a spanking and humping your baby pussy on daddy’s leg like a little bunny in heat.” Another spank, and another one, and now you’ve lost count. “And in front of all your little stuffed animals too? You must feel so ashamed.”
You tearfully glance at all your stuffies, longing to have your stuffed rabbit, Floppy, in your arms to comfort you. Instead, you receive another series of hard slaps, the lewd sound of the smacks echoing around the room.
“Apologise to them too.” Ari orders you, voice dripping with authority and sick lust. “C’mon, honey. Apologise to your little stuffies for being such a naughty baby with a potty mouth.” He slaps your upper thigh and you hiss in pain, “Tell your little friends what a bad girl you are.”
“I’m a bad girl!” You cry desperately, unable to lock eyes with the toys, feeling silly and ashamed and humiliated all at once. “I’m sorry, stuffies and I’m sorry, daddy! Won’t ever swear again, please!”
A final slap and then Ari’s pulling you upright, gathering you in his arms while you sob into his chest. “There, there, baby.” He coos, kissing the top of your head and stroking your hair back, “Daddy had to do it. How else will little babies like you ever learn the rules?”
More kisses, more fondling, and he even licks up the stray tears falling down your cheeks.
“I know you’re just a baby and it’s confusing for you to remember all our rules— but that’s why you need daddy. I don’t want to hear another swear word come out of your mouth, you got that, honey? And no going near the oven, either. It’s dangerous for babies.”
You sniffle and nod, feeling especially small — as if you truly are his baby — as Ari cuddles you. Readily, you accept his thumb when he pushes it against your lips, sucking on it noisily to calm yourself down from the whole ordeal you’ve just gone through. Your ass feels like it’s on fire but you know that your daddy knows best.
“That’s my good little baby,” Ari coos, pinching your cheek and holding you close. And it’s crazy how he’s made you so addicted to his babying, to the point where you physically need him to act like this with you — especially after harsh punishments like this.
“Curtis.” Your eyes widen at Ari’s suddenly gruff tone, and your blood runs cold when you see your husband’s right hand man step out of the shadows in the corner of the room.
Had he been there this whole time?
“Cancel my meetings for today. My wife is being particularly needy.” He gestures down at you lying mortified in his lap, trying to push your skirt back down as you desperately continue to suck on your daddy’s thumb.
“Got it, boss.” The buzzcut-haired man nods and leaves, and Ari turns his attention back to you.
“Next time you break one of daddy’s rules, I’ll spank you in front of all my men, you got that?” He shoved his thumb further into your mouth, choking you slightly as your eyes begin to water, but he’s got the same loving look on his face.
“My little baby… soon enough I’ll have you trained to know all of my rules, even if it’s too much for your little baby brain to handle.”
THE END
AHHHH PLEASE LEMME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK!! I wrote majority of this at the airport then finished it just now!!
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imyourbratzdoll · 11 months
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𝐁𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐧 𝐅𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐲
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She was a good mother and a good wife. She always made sure to be there for her husband and son. Yet, he still left her, and the months of adjusting weren’t good. Especially when he treated her like shit, and her son would rather be with his father. Leaving her to slowly drift away, losing herself and hope. Pieces of her slowly dying, as she realises no one would miss her if she were gone.
18+ only please, do not copy, repost or translate our works. You are responsible for your own media consumption. headers are made by me.
೫˚👩‍👦❀ *ૢ💔೫˚👨‍👦
𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
೫˚👩‍👦❀ *ૢ💔೫˚👨‍👦
!warning! This series will include heartbreak, divorce, assumptions of cheating, thoughts of suicide, mentions of drinking, feeling alone and unloved, being treated badly, and maybe smut?
೫˚👩‍👦❀ *ૢ💔೫˚👨‍👦
𝐅𝐢𝐜𝐬:
part 1 - 𝐈 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐚 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐛𝐲𝐞
೫˚👩‍👦❀ *ૢ💔೫˚👨‍👦
part 2 - 𝐈𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤
೫˚👩‍👦❀ *ૢ💔೫˚👨‍👦
part 3 - 𝐧𝐨 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐬 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐧 𝐈 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐦
೫˚👩‍👦❀ *ૢ💔೫˚👨‍👦
part 4 - 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐰𝐞 𝐞𝐧𝐝?
೫˚👩‍👦❀ *ૢ💔೫˚👨‍👦
part 5 - 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐚𝐧
೫˚👩‍👦❀ *ૢ💔೫˚👨‍👦
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680 notes · View notes
onsunnyside · 1 year
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🍁≬ 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐓𝐢𝐦𝐞 (𝟏/𝟐)
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𝗣𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 | photographer!Ari Levinson x reader
𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 | glimpses of fluff, angst, old flames, childhood friends-to-loves aftermath, ex-boyfriend!Ari, size difference: 6’8!Ari.
𝗦𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 | Even the most beautiful love stories are bound to end in tragedy, but you thought you and Ari would be an exception.
𝗪/𝗖 | 3.64K
𝗔/𝗡 | currently in my sad autumn girl era but i know it won’t last long so i wanted to share this with you all. sort of poured my heart into it and wrote most of this in a teary haze last night. Inspired by Taylor Swift’s songs: Sad Beautiful Tragic, Exile, All Too Well, The Last Time. [𝐏𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐁𝐨𝐚𝐫𝐝 | all asks]. All mistakes are my own. 
˗ˏˋ𝐌𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭ˎˊ˗ ⋰˚ 𝐂.𝐄. & 𝐂𝐨. 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
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Don’t look, don’t look, you force your eyes on the television mounted above the table, half listening to the chatter of your friends and the hushed music playing from the speakers. 
A nudge brings your attention to your redheaded friend, “How have you been? You haven’t answered my texts.”
“Sorry, I’ve been working a lot.” The music shop didn’t get very busy, but Natasha didn’t need to know that you spent the past weeks buried in turmoil, revisiting every decision you’ve ever made that brought you here. “I also applied to the dance studio as an instructor, I’m still waiting for them to get back to me.” 
Her green gaze pools with worry. Of course, you’d answer a question about how you were with what you were doing. She hated to pry, but she cared for you like a sister. If you were hurting, she wanted to put a stop to it, or talk about it and try to understand. She couldn’t do that if you refused to open up.
“If you want to leave, that’s fine, I’ll walk you out.”
“I’m okay, Nat. I wouldn’t have come if I couldn’t handle seeing him again.” 
The both of you know that’s a bald-faced lie. Especially because you’ve done everything to not peek in his direction. 
Natasha is drawn away by one of your other close friends, and they fall into an easy conversation with laughs and bright smiles. Their voices fade into each other, a blissful hum filling the loneliness that has clung to you.
I wouldn’t have come if I couldn’t handle seeing him again.
You spoke too soon. 
Ever so slightly, you glance at the bar. Over the heads of the other patrons, his gaze meets yours. Deep blue, unreadable and sharp, piercing heavily through your face. 
Seeing him now, he’s different. His hair is longer, his beard is thicker, and he’s dressed in clothes you’ve never seen before—apart from his signature leather jacket that he wore for most of the year. 
You wonder if the way he carries himself all the same, with quiet grace and self-assurance, too often falling victim to his insecurities. 
You missed him. 
You missed his stupidly loud alarm clock, his cute bedhead and how he never failed to keep you warm on winter nights. You missed his endless rants about society, space and the world, past, present and future. His mind stretched into infinity, and you never always understood what he was saying, but you listened nonetheless. Listening was the best thing someone could do. 
Your eyes fall on the loose and shaggy fabric around his neck. The cream knit was your first little home project, evident with the frayed threads and stubborn coffee stains. That single scarf took you a week because of your lack of experience. You worked on it everywhere, on the train, at work and the park. Your favourite place to knit was next to him as he hunched over his computer desk and went through hundreds of photographs with his glasses on the tip of his nose.
That was the one thing he didn’t mail back. 
He goes around the table, handing out everyone’s selected drinks with greetings. “Sorry, I’m late. I got stuck at the studio with this last-minute family portrait session.” 
“At least it wasn’t another self-proclaimed influencer.” Curtis snorts.
“Fuck no, thank goodness for that.” He laughs, almost too gleeful. When he gets to you, he simply sets the drink on the wooden countertop and flashes a tense smile.
It either took one or ten minutes for you to sip the drink before you rushed out the back door with an excuse about fresh air. 
The cool, November air welcomes you with open arms as if it knew you wouldn’t last very long. You lean on the railing, distracting yourself with the red, orange and yellow trees across the way. The music and chatter fade into whispers, and the crickets and gentle wind take their place. Down below, the water ripples against the rocks, the wooden poles dark and green from the lake, another victim to time, just like everything else.  
The fall season itself was a tale of death. The days got shorter because the sun comes and goes all too quickly and the leaves turn into different shades before falling to the ground. Bidding farewell in warm colour pallets and leave the trees bare, mere skeletons of life, dormant and dull.
Then, they’re reincarnated by spring. Brought back by more sunshine and warmth, blooming hues the world has longed for. 
You wondered when your spring would come, or if you’d be trapped in perpetual autumn. Be forced to feel every part of you change into red, yellow or orange and fall until there is nothing left and you're in a barren comatose. 
You stare down at your dress, the very one he said was his favourite. The soft blue silk is highlighted by the dim fairy lights hung up on the fence. Memories are woven into the fabric and they’re all good because you stopped wearing this dress when things got worse. With a brush of the lace hem, you’re reminded of him.
“I knew you’d look beautiful in this.” 
“You have to stop buying me things, we have bills to pay.”
He scoffs, “bills aren’t going to help my girl realize how beautiful she is.” He takes your hand, pressing his plump lips on your knuckles, “I know it, the world knows it, but she doesn’t. And that isn’t okay with me.” 
The door swings open and slams into the wall, making you jump. 
“Oh shit, sorry!” His voice rings out, “Didn’t mean to scare you, I thought the door was heavier.” 
You quickly wipe your eyes, not caring about your makeup anymore. You tried hard to look your best tonight and embody that healed person you’ve pretended to be for the past few weeks. But he couldn’t say hi or your name. Why couldn’t he say your name?
He tucks away his cigarettes, “You stay, I’ll go out front. You probably want to be alone.”
“No, it’s okay. I’m going to call a cab.” 
“You’re leaving?”
“Natasha knows I have an early morning.” You keep it simple and duck away from his gaze, hugging your purse close as some sort of lifesaver that was keeping you from floating into the sky. Truthfully, you wouldn’t mind that abrupt escape after hearing his next words. 
“Wait—I mean, I’ll wait with you. It’s too late for you to be outside by yourself.” 
Your stride doesn’t slow, you hope he’ll get the hint and just go back inside, but with his mile-long legs, he easily catches up to you. His boots land heavily on the boardwalk and the buckles of his leather jacket chime, filling the strained silence.
“So, did you see that new cinema downtown?”
“Please don’t.”
He raises his arms in defence, a smile audible in his voice, “Sorry, I didn’t realize you hated movies.” 
“Ari.” Your shoulders slump and the sorrow gets heavier. You swear the world could cave under your feet. “Don’t try to—” You cut yourself off, knowing if you didn’t get away now, you’d regret it, “I want to be alone right now.” 
The pine trees sway in the breeze, surrounding you with their natural scent. 
He takes one hesitant step back, nodding slowly. “Right, I’m probably the last person you want to see.”
He couldn’t be more wrong and that only worsened the pain. How could he think that when he was the only person you wanted to see every day for over a decade? 
It stretches far back to when you were children and living down the street from each other. 
How could he think that when you used to wait out on the porch for him to pass by so you could walk to school together? How could he think that when you’ve spent hundreds of hours writing about his face in your diaries, about how his smile could light up a stadium and how his eyes were endless pools of stories and wishes? 
How could he?
“Hey, hey, it’s okay.” Ari’s features grow concerned as the hot tears stream down your cheeks. “It’s okay—” He reaches for you, gently grasping your hand. 
“No, it’s not.” You try to shrug him off, not bothering to wipe your face. He knew you were crying out here anyway. He knew you more than he knew himself, so it wouldn’t surprise you if he also knew what you were thinking right now—where did he find the audacity to say it’s okay? “I’m sad—I’m still so sad. And you aren’t.” 
Ari stiffens and releases your hand as if he’d been burned. His cerulean eyes are shaded by the night, and darkness bleeds onto his solemn face, “You think I’m not sad?”
You tearily blink, waving towards the bar by the lake. “You seemed pretty happy in there—and you acted like you didn’t even know me.” 
Sure, you probably would’ve cried if he spoke to you, but at least he would have acknowledged you. You’d take that glimmer of attention over his silence any day.
“I was—I am heartbroken.” He confesses, his long hair falling over his forehead as he stares down at you, “I didn’t know if you wanted me to talk to you—”
“Yet you followed me out here anyway.” 
Even in the moonlight, you can see his cheeks turn cherry red. 
“Okay, but I was checking on you. I didn’t mean for this to happen and to make you cry.” He protests, “Am I not allowed to worry about you?”
You close your eyes and shake your head, turning on your heel to continue down the boardwalk. The main street mocks you in the distance, beckoning you with yellow streetlights and the chance to escape, but his fingers wrap around your wrist, holding tightly.
“Wait, please. I’m sorry.” 
His touch is warm and familiar, the other end of the double-edged sword. On one end is the busy street, the carefree people living their lives on this fall evening, the cars driving by, and your bittersweet freedom—but also your lonely apartment with your cold, empty bed. The other end, the one entwining with your trembling fingers, is suffocatingly soft and inviting. Enticing you to stay and listen, but at what cost? Would it only bring more suffering draped in so-called closure or more confusion that your heart couldn’t take?
“Muse—”
“Don’t.”
He inhales deeply and you feel his breath on the back of your head. “I’m devastated, I’m alone, I’m stuck in this disordered loop that I don’t know how to get out of.” His grip constricts, once then twice but you force yourself to stay as unresponsive as a corpse. “You were my first for everything, I-I wanted you to be my last.” 
You knew that and you wanted the same thing. You’ve discussed it countless nights in your shared bed, whispering about the possibilities that the great big world offered, from tamed to outlandish. Picking up a strange hobby, or travelling the globe, he even mentioned moving to a new country altogether, “think about it. A fresh start, just the two of us and unlimited options.”
“I wouldn’t say unlimited, unfamiliar sounds more accurate.” 
“Pick a place, any place and I’ll make it happen.” 
“What if I don’t tell you and just take off alone? Soak up all that freshness by myself.” 
“Oh, then I’ll find you. I’ll follow you anywhere.” 
Experiencing things for the first time together was a big part of your relationship. You were both painstakingly sentimental, which only made it harder to pack your things. Everything reminded you of what was or what could’ve been, you eventually decided to keep what you needed and throw out what carried tender nostalgia. 
You never followed through with that, but you do avoid the many boxes stacked in your closet. Full of pictures, gifts, and anything that reminded you of him. That was where you found this dress.
From the seedlings of memorable firsts, it was inevitable that you two gave each other your first heartbreaks too. 
The tears come back with vengeance, spilling down your heated cheeks, “You ended things.”
“You walked out!” He rushes to apologize, swerving in front of you before you could take another step. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Just please, listen to me.” 
Why? He never listened to you in the end. 
Whenever you brought up concerns about weird tension or the growing emptiness, he never listened.  He was all about work and brushed off dates for last-minute gigs. You knew he wanted a greater future for the two of you, something better than your crowded apartment with your roommates (now the close friends in the bar), and something brighter than the stars combined. 
You tried to understand and a part of you did, but the other part couldn’t take it anymore. The part that missed your boyfriend, missed your mindless conversations and quiet nights at home, and when he picked up that camera and photographed you like a piece of art. 
That part of you won. You laid down your weapons and went defenceless into his line of fire, with only your heart in your hands and a rehearsed speech in your head. 
You never made it all the way through because you two started arguing, right in front of your friends, spitting accusations fueled by rage and doubt, making each other into the bigger villain when it was always clear who was the culprit. 
Even now, although you know it’s him, you wonder if you were an accomplice. 
Childhood sweethearts turned college lovers, plenty of people have made it all the way—to whatever was their ideal. Many people have also given up, gotten tired, or fallen out of love. 
You thought you and Ari were stronger than that, and you wouldn’t let the pressures of life, work, and school weigh onto your relationship. But in the end, those voices were always right, and your shared dreams were crushed at the hands of breakdowns, lost time, and agonizing lulls. 
It was ironic how you’re haunted by voices while Ari rarely used his.
Ari wasn’t loud or interruptive. He was quiet and timid, and as he grew up, he slowly came out of his shell and matured into the tall, confident, and gentle giant in front of you. 
When you were kids, he wrote adorably misspelled sentences on sticky notes to drop into your lunchbox, and then in high school, he wrote love letters to slip into your locker. The sweetest part was that he never signed them, yet you always suspected it was him. He pretended to be curious about your newest note from your secret admirer and asked about the contents, all the itty bitty details of the proclamation in black pen.
He was after your heart, and he surely got it. 
He showed his love through touch, gestures and gifts, through photographs and love letters that were kept in a special box. 
It was beautiful in a way that only broken poets, starved artists and silenced lovers could understand. And you and Ari were all three. The tragedy was in colours no one else could see, the script in an undiscovered language, but to you and all the rest of the heartbroken, it was so vivid and clear. You dipped your fingers into that magic shade and poured your heart onto the white walls of the lonely tower, mourning your knight who would never return. 
You made the tragedy your home, wallowed in it, and pitied yourself over every missed opportunity—the fleeted moments where things could have changed, leading you somewhere different from where you were. But you tried to get better, to get clean of him and those noisy, unhelpful thoughts. You wanted to save yourself, to gather the guts to leave that tower and climb down to the lush grass and sparkling rivers below. 
In delusions, you are happy and satisfied, sober from the destruction. But right now, that false comfort was cracking beneath your feet. You wished to board up the windows and hide away from the world, from him. 
“Will you please listen to me?” He pleads, his voice thick, “just listen, you don’t have to say anything or even stay afterward.” 
“Why?” You turn to him, gritting your teeth to keep from sobbing. “Why should I listen to you when you never listened to me? When I told you that were growing apart, you just pushed me further away. Does—” Your voice cracks, “Does that not seem unfair to you?” Did you not deserve the same mercy he was begging for?
It was too late if he wanted to listen this time. It was gone, flatlined, buried under the dirt with overgrown weeds and ivy climbing on the gravestone. Your names were etched into the stone, just another miserable end in the cemetery of the heartbroken, the battered and bruised, the forgotten and silenced. 
You’ve been a ghost ever since he mailed back the things you thought he wanted. Transparent and floating through the graveyard, weeping in wonder, and feebly searching for that scarf—the one thing he kept.
“I won’t ask again. This is the last time, Ari. You won’t get another chance.”
He opens and closes his mouth multiple times, rethinking every thought racing in his head, but then he finally settles on shutting his mouth. Those plump lips pressed firmly together, a barrier for everything he should say—and everything you had the right to hear. 
Defeated, you release his hand. You didn’t realize you were holding him too, it was all just automatic at this point, unlike this moment which is only a rerun of a film you’ve already seen. 
Your gaze traces his face one last time, locking everything to memory from the curve of his dark eyebrows, the shade of his blue eyes, the point of his nose, the blush pink of his lips, and every freckle like they were constellations. 
In a flash, you’re staring at him from across the classroom, watching him slowly write on a yellow sticky note, his tongue poking from between his teeth in concentration. 
Another flash, and you’re watching him bolt down the hallway, passing lockers and other students with his azure eyes set on you. In his hand is an old polaroid camera and he’s wearing the widest grin, “Let’s go to the park.” He almost crashes into you but grasps your shoulder in excitement, illuminating the dull hallway with his glow. 
You laugh, “I have class… and so do you.” 
“Yeah, but the weather is so nice today.” He pouts, already tugging you towards one of the exits. “Plus, you look really pretty. Wouldn’t you rather be my model, than sit in some dusty old classroom?”
He kissed you that day, under the biggest willow tree in the park with his hand on your cheek. He blushed a nervous red and asked so sweetly, “Can I—May I please…” He trailed off, profusely blinking at your parted lips, “Will you let me b-be your first kiss? And will you be mine?”
And finally, you’re back in the present. His looming shadow as he towers over your lifeless frame, executed by the quiet and unspoken words. You’d take anything at this point, from shuddering pleas to choked apologies—you’d grovel for a single syllable. 
“That’s it.” You scoff in disbelief, “all you can do is look at me?”
Again, silence. His eyes pool with tears, seconds away from streaming down his cheeks and matching your wet trails and ruined makeup. He doesn’t speak, but he’s breaking, cracking at the surface like delicate porcelain holding back a flood. 
“You deserve better than me.”
No, he doesn’t get to decide that. He doesn’t get to use that stale statement to dig his own grave, right alongside yours before the final self-deprecating eulogy. It didn’t matter if he thought you deserved better than him, all that should matter was that you wanted him, that you still wanted him even after all of this. 
“So, you’re just gonna let me go? After all we’ve been through?” After you’ve given him everything, and showed him every part of you and let him in.
The first tear falls, dripping down his beard and onto the worn knit. Then another, and another until they’re streaming down his cheeks and soaked up by the scarf. “You’re already gone.” 
There it is, the last nail in the coffin.
Ari has never been aggressive or forceful, but you wished he’d be brave. You wished he’d fight for you, step into the battlefield with an unrelenting resolve to make things right—to get you back. But he doesn’t, he just looks down at you, chewing on his lip with clenched fists. 
He’s surrendered to the war, abandoning you in the tower of tragedy, but joining you in the cemetery of the heartbroken. He’s signing his name on the death certificate and damning you and your wistful dreams, erasing every ‘what if’ that has plagued the both of you since you were children.
“You couldn’t be more wrong.” 
You swallow the lump in your throat and fight the weakness in your knees, but you refuse to do this to yourself again, to give him a chance he won’t take. You turn around and continue down the dock, your arms wrapped tightly around yourself in a form of self-soothing. 
Autumn was a story of demise, but it had to be better than the earsplitting silence. You’d take the cruel cold and neverending abyss over the lack of effort. Right now, there was no spring in sight, no rebirth to raise you from the dead but you’d find your own life someday and somehow without him. You had to save yourself, be your own hero and come out victorious—alone, but triumphant.
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𝐄𝐧𝐝𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬:  i’ve already started a part two for those of us who want a happy ending, so if you’re an angsty person, feel free to just leave it at this part. i’ll let you all know when i have a date. this is also my second time writing angst on here, and i had a few good cry sessions. i know this isn't the usual filth but i hope you all enjoyed this nonetheless.
𝐒𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞! i love you all very much. pls take this kith 😚🫶
As always, I hope you all enjoyed this and I’d love to hear your thoughts/feedback !! [my inbox] <3 — ☼ 𝐃𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐊𝐨-𝐟𝐢 ☼
I don’t do taglists anymore. ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 𝐅𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 & 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐨𝐧 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲: @𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲
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kiki-bridges · 1 year
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Okay. This is my first fic. It just came over me (no pun intended) and I started typing. I am very new to writing fanfic and smut so any likes, feedback, etc. is appreciated. Just please don't be mean because I will cry. Title is inspired by a Daniel Johnston song
True Love will Find you in the End Part 1
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Chris Evans x ex!female reader, Pedro Pascal x female reader
Summary: Chris ended your relationship 2 years ago and you are now co-parenting your 4 year-old daughter, Isabella. For the last 6 months, you've been quietly dating Pedro Pascal. Unbeknownst to you, Chris is still in love with you. When the media exposes your relationship and Chris learns about Pedro, will he succeed at winning you back? Or is the past too painful to forget?
Warnings: Separation, angst, possible infidelity, smut, anxiety, coparenting
18+ only
Saturday Chris POV
7am and the notifications were nonstop. News broke out that Y/N was seeing someone for 6 months. Chris' eyes furrowed as he read the headline: "From Captain America to The Mandalorian, Y/N is off the market once again!" Chris hated when the media mocked your life. Chris also hated when the media brought out unfavorable news.
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You found someone new. The love of his life. The mother of his Isabella, his only daughter. His only child. The two of you were his entire world.
How could you know how he feels? 2 years ago, you were crying and begging Chris to stay and work on your relationship. You didn't care if there was someone else, you wanted to keep your family together. 2 years ago, Chris ignored your cries and left.
Chris squeezed his phone and he closed his eyes so tight he hoped for an aneurysm, if that's how one can occur. Anything to distract him from his growing anxiety.
He desperately wanted to call you and beg for an explanation but it was his weekend with Isa and she was napping. If she stayed on schedule, that naptime was about to end. He cherished his time with his daughter. When would he talk to you? He quickly remembered tomorrow is Sunday, the day he drops off Isa at your house for the weeks. This was your arrangement since the breakup, alternating weeks with your daughter. Tomorrow was settled. It was the perfect opportunity to talk to you.
Saturday Y/N POV
"Oh! Fuck! Oh my god! Uhhh...fuck baby! Your cock feels so good! Please baby don't stop!" You screamed. Pedro had a tight grasp on your hips as he inserted his swollen cock in and out of your drenched pussy. Pedro grunted heavily as he kissed and nibbled your neck and shoulder. He lifted his breathy mouth to your ear and whispered "Oh baby, I love this pussy so much. I love the way it wraps around and pulls on my cock. Give me another one baby. Three is not enough for mi amor. Cum for me baby. Please cum for me".
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While pleading for your orgasm, Pedro used two fingers to slowly rub your sensitive clit. With one hand focused on your clit, Pedro used his other hand to grab your breasts and pinch your nipples until they came to a point. He kept this routine and continued to thrust deep inside you. After two more thrusts you unraveled before your man's lustful eyes. "Ooohhh fuuuuuck!!! I'm cumming baby!!! Ohhmygod Pedro!!" His undoing soon followed as you moaned his name and smiled when you felt his warm cum fill you up.
Waking up from your post-fuckfest nap, your bodies remained intertwined on your king size bed. Looking down at you as you rested on his chest, Pedro smiled and gently caressed your arm. "What should we do tonight, Y/N? Your baby girl comes home tomorrow. Which means we have one more night to play" Pedro says with a sweet yet devilish grin.
With a soft chuckle, you look up to your beautiful man and smile. "Well, you are my favorite playmate but I need some energy. Let's have dinner first". Pedro smiled and kissed your forehead. He already ordered for delivery while you dosed off after your fourth orgasm.
Sunday: Morning of Drop off
Chris POV
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Chris was anxious all morning but made sure to compose himself in front of Isa. At nearly 4 years-old, Isa could pick up on the emotions of her parents. What Isa could not notice was her daddy internally spiraling with a myriad of things he might say to her mama.
Where the hell did you meet him? Was Isabella with you? Does he know about her? Does he even like kids? He's not going to be around our daughter. I need you. You need me. Isa needs us together. Please give me another chance. I still love you Y/N
Yup. Chris was spiraling.
He stepped just outside the kitchen to take deep breaths as Isa ate her chocolate chip pancakes. "Are you running, Daddy? You are breathing a lot".
Chris chuckled at his daughter's inquisitive personality. "Daddy just needed to take a deep breath sweet heart. Deep breaths help you relax". Isa simply respond, "Okay, daddy" and continued eating her breakfast.
Relieved Isa didn't continue the conversation, Chris focused on relaxing. He knew he had to reveal his feelings for you even though it may drive you further from him. He also realized you both had Isa. No matter what you would still be in his life. This comforting fact motivated him to be vulnerable with you. He was willing to accept any outcome. He had to give himself a chance to earn your love again.
Y/N POV
You and Pedro ate breakfast together as both of your notifications went off with a blaze. "Oh well guess what little harlot is yet again with another gentleman caller?" Pedro asked amusingly. You roll your eyes "Oh just take what I can get baby like a rundown motel". Pedro's playful smile changed when he noticed your sarcastic tone was more self-deprecating. He gently grabbed your hand and caressed your cheek. "Baby. Fuck these journalists and their bullshit headlines! You know it's all bullshit right?" His expression seamlessly shifted from concern to frustration. He cared about you deeply. You were so talented and kind. It angered him when media outlets disrespected you.
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Until recent events, you and Pedro were quietly dating for 6 months. While partying at an exclusive club, patrons captured you giving Pedro a lap dance followed by a steamy make out session. Although you both don't regret your PDA, you couldn't help but feel violated. Especially since the club you attended was invite only and exclusive to A-list celebrities. There were rules about recording other members without their consent. You both had no choice but to put your trust in your PR team to take care of the situation.
"Aye, Pedro. I know it's bullshit. It's still annoying. Ugh! This is why I avoid social media. Just leave me with NPR. They don't give a shit about my love life."
Soon after breakfast, Pedro kissed you goodbye. Fortunately the only area in your home that was a mess was your bedroom so you were ready for Chris to bring Isa any time soon.
Drop Off Time
Chris POV
Chris managed to feel relaxed during the drive to your house. Big thanks to Isa who is so full of love and happiness. Her presence is like a cooling salve for yours and Chris's wounded hearts.
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Y/N POV
You heard Chris' car enter your driveway. You jumped off the couch and ran to greet them. Pedro was a wonderful distraction but you missed your Bella Ella as you liked to call her. Although your excitement was at the forefront of your mind, you breath hitched at the thought of talking to Chris about Pedro. Nevertheless, you opened the front door.
"My sweet Bel.."whispers" oh she fell asleep?" You opened the door wide enough for Chris to walk through as he carried a sleepy Isa in his arms. "Yeah. She was up a little early. She ate chocolate chip pancakes so a carb nap was the next logical step for this little turkey". You chuckled at Chris' nickname for Isabella. He always came up with good ones on the spot.
Unaware of Chris lovingly gazing at your face and perfect curves, you caressed your Bella Ella's hair. "Sleepy mamas. I'll open her bedroom door and you can tuck her in". Chris nodded and followed you upstairs trying to look anywhere but your curvaceous body as it swayed side to side.
After opening Bella's bedroom door, you return downstairs. You walked back and forth in your kitchen, rubbing your hands together. Why were you so nervous? Chris left you. He didn't want to work on your relationship. He most likely cheated on you too. That is also an assumption but who cares? You were happy with Pedro. You deserve happiness.
As you calmed yourself down on a confident note, Chris made his way downstairs.
Chris stood at the kitchen entrance, staring at you with hurt and confusion in his eyes.
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"Y/N we need to talk. I found out about Pedro. You're dating him. You've been dating him for 6 months. 6 months! You didn't think to tell the father of your daughter that you're seeing someone?"
Chris immediately realized he was not off to a great start.
You were taken aback by his approach. "Who I choose to have a relationship with is none of your business, Chris!"
Chris scoffed, "So it's a relationship? From the looks of that video I knew you were at least fucking each other. Didn't realize you were getting serious with that asshole".
You were on fire. "Fucking and not in a relationship or fucking and in a relationship, it is still none of your business! It will be your business when Isabella finally meets Pedro. That hasn't happened yet". You were livid and wished you lied and said they did meet just to set Chris off.
Lips pressed together, Chris took a deep breath. As he exhaled, Chris looked down at the floor with a feeling of defeat. What was he doing? He was pushing you further away from him. How on earth could he convince you to give him another chance when he is behaving like a total dick.
"Y/N look, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have approached you this way. You're right. Your dating life is none of my business. I just want yo...Isabella to be happy and safe and loved by everyone around her."
You stayed silent and tried to avoid direct eye contact with Chris as you figured out your next move. You hated admitting this but he still had a hold on you and you feared he was well aware of his power. After all, you weren't the one that wanted the relationship to end.
You stood up straight and faced him with forced confidence. " Chris, do you think I don't want the same for our daughter? Do you think I am neglecting her because I am seeing a man who is not you?" Chris knew he hurt you even more, "Y/N of course not. I know you would die and kill for Isabella. I'm sorry for making you feel that way." You took a deep breath. "Thank-you for your apology, Chris. I can definitely relate to feeling angry when someone you thought you knew has been hiding parts of themselves from you."
Chris looked at you with shame and embarrassment. He absolutely failed this conversation and he needed to leave your house as soon as possible.
"Great talk, Y/N. I hope you're happy. Honestly. I will see you next Sunday. Tell Isa I love her."
You watched Chris bolt through your front door and jog to his car never looking back at you.
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cevansbrat0007 · 2 months
Note
No pressure, you can totally ignore this. It’s almost Valentine’s Day again… do you think you’ll finish Lonely Hearts Club? I love all your work though so I’m definitely not choosing to what you write. I just get so invested I have to see it through. ❤️
No pressure at all! It makes me feel good to know that people haven't forgotten about my Growing Pains Series or The Lonely Hearts Club Mini-Series.
Part One
Part Two
Part Three - Teaser
I do have plans to return to the series. I actually meant to start that process early this month, but got bogged down by the flu literally on New Year's Day and haven't even fully recovered yet.
But it's on my mind and I often find myself exploring plot points while I fold sweaters during my shifts at Target.
Thank you!
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earth616variant · 1 year
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mama, it's cap | steve rogers
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summary | Your daughter only knows one Captain America and it's definitely not Steve Rogers.
words | 2k
genres | angst, fluff, parents au, exes au, second chance au
pairing | steve rogers x reader
warnings | -
notes | i'll give the uncles their own drabble later. for now, this is mostly steve's perspective. let me know your thoughts! reblogs and comments are very much appreciated :)
main masterlist | series masterlist
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“Steve, man, you need to relax.” 
Sam tapped on Steve’s shoulder, noticing how stiff his posture is in front of the mirror. After years of being Steve’s teammate and close friend, Sam already witnessed how fearless he is. But now, for the first time, he can actually see their former leader being tensed. Not because of another outer space purple alien or battle to face, but because he is going to meet someone special today.
“What if she’ll hates me?” Steve asked, looking back to Sam with worry written all over his face.
“Are we talking about Sandy or Y/N?”  Sam quipped. But the reaction on his friend’s face didn’t change at all. He crossed his arms, “Look, Steve. They won’t hate you. Sandy is the nicest kid I know. Bucky even calls her sunshine. She’s friendly and kind to everyone. She rarely showed any dislike for anyone or anything. I’m sure everything will go smoothly later.”
“How about–”
“Yeah, I know she ran away the moment she saw you.”  Sam rolled his eyes. “But can you blame her?”
Steve didn’t answer. He remembered that rainy night he saw you for the first time after coming back. He already anticipated anger from you since he was the one who asked for a break-up after their time-travel mission and battle with Thanos. But what was unexpected was the little girl, who was hiding behind your leg, that you referred to as your daughter before pausing in shock. Before he can even say anything more, you immediately left with the kid as you blink away the tears he noticed.
Alone, confused, and drenched in the rain. He stood there as your bus left. He didn’t understand everything that happened. Just like how Bruce explained to him a day ago that it had already been five years since he left. He was staying alone in Banner’s free apartment in the city ever since he came back and just a few hours after he saw you again, Sam and Bucky are both standing at his door, still in uniform.
And man, it was not a happy reunion. The duo was surprised to see him. Sam’s open mouth almost reached the floor while Bucky glared at him, jaw clenched. Sam did all the talking and explained that they just came from a mission when they heard that he is back. He willingly answered questions Steve had. Except for one.
“She was pregnant when you left.” 
With his arms crossed over his chest, Bucky told him coldly. Silence took over the whole apartment after that. Steve had to process everything in his head while his two friends watched. The kid, the one who was with you. She’s mine. Mine. It repeated over and over again. The regret, questions, confusion, and surprise are all mixed in. 
“Steve, I know that this is a lot. But we’ll help you.” Sam tried to assure him, even tagging the seemingly mad Bucky along, “Right, Bucky?”
His best friend answered with a single nod. They did help him. Steve moved out from Bruce’s to Bucky’s apartment unit since he had an extra room. Sam would join them every day because he was the only one who talks. He took over the couch. At the end of the week, he learned a lot of stories about your pregnancy and even Sandy. His heart already swells with stories about her and he started to yearn for meeting her. Also, he wants to talk to you ever since he came back. 
Finally, exactly a week since that rainy night, Sam told Steve that you are open for him to meet Sandy.
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“That’s her house. The blue one.” Sam pointed out as he drives closer to it.
Your house…is something familiar to Steve’s memory. It was a single-family home, not too far from the city. You have a beautiful front yard and he can notice the colorful chalk doodles on your cement walkway, obviously drawn by a little kid. 
“You know, this house, she bought it herself as soon as she learned she was pregnant. We were surprised. But she said she’s been saving up for this.” Sam shared as they walked to the pathway.
Steve nodded quietly, he knows. You and Steve already planned on buying a home just like this before. Everything was already planned out. The kids, pets, every design and furniture to be put in the house. You two already imagined it before while cuddling together on the brown couch in your old apartment.
‘WeLCoME!’
A word is written before your front door with the last letter written in a mirrored way. He smiled, reading it. Sam clicked on the doorbell and Steve tried to stay calm, shifting his weight from one foot to another. He held on to the gift bags he brought. He thought of buying something for this day after he heard stories.
Suddenly, they heard hurried footsteps inside the house. It was followed by an excited voice, “Mama, they’re here! They are here!”
As if that’s not enough to soothe Steve, he heard a familiar, heartwarming chuckle, “I know, I know, love! Don’t open the door. Wait for mama!”
Sam looked back at Steve and gave him a soft pat on his arm. He exhaled and tried to smile. Hopefully, the butterflies in his stomach calm down. A few seconds later, the door slowly opened and all the butterflies started playing around again when he sees you standing there. You swiftly glanced from him to Sam and his heart never relaxed again. You were about to greet them when someone cuts you off.
“Mama, it’s Cap!”
His heart skips as he heard the excitement in your child’s voice behind you. Her baby blue eyes scream for joy as she ran in his direction with open arms. Expecting a warm embrace, Steve watched with the broadest smile. Until she passed by him like a chilly wind blow, he turned his head and saw Sandra hugging Sam, who chuckles as he lifted her in his arms.
“Uh-oh! Looks like you are growing up really fast, Sandra. I might not be able to carry you next time I go here.”
The little kid giggled, “That’s lilly. You’re Captain America! You can do anything!”
Steve tried to tear his eyes away, looking down at his feet. Of course, he will run to Sam. He is the Captain America for five years now. And you, who stood before them, watched as all of it happened. You quickly spotted Steve’s expression transitioning from Sarah running towards them, passing by him, and jumping to her favorite uncle. Steve meets your eyes and you can read the mixture of sadness and frustration in his eyes. You broke eye contact and cleared your throat,
“You guys should come inside. Sandy and I are going to do something.” you feigned excitement as you talk to your daughter.
“Baking! We’re baking ‘nick-uh-toodles!”  Sandra stutters adorably. She didn’t even give a pinch of attention to Steve, only talking to Sam.
“Is that so? Then, we should go inside!”
Sam carefully let down Sandra from his arms. She easily pulled his hand inside your house, leaving you and Steve alone. You looked at Steve with the plainest look he has ever seen from you. He swore that he prepared words to say to you but just by your stare, it was all gone. You pursed your lips.
“She meant snickerdoodles. We’re working with her s.” you clarified awkwardly.  “Come on in?”
“Yeah, sure..” he mumbled before stepping into your home.  He waited for you to close the door before handing you the bags. “Uh, I bought these. Sam said she loves them.”
“Oh, yeah… Thanks. But you should give it to her later, personally. I’ll introduce you to her.” you said carefully before walking ahead of him.
Steve followed behind you. He cannot help but travel his eyes around your house. A couple of picture frames were displayed on the wall. One has a colorful doodle that he assumes was Sandy’s masterpiece. Next to it is an image of an infant sleeping in a bassinet. And lastly, there was a seemingly recent snap of you and Sandy in matching pastel blue sundresses. Both are pretty and all smiley.
“Sandy, come here first,” you called her as you entered the kitchen with the former Captain America catching up behind you.
She was sitting on the kitchen island so she had to turn to Sam to help her, “Thank you, Cap.”
And Steve would be lying if he say that it didn’t cause another crack in his heart. Steve watched as you slowly got down to her level when she stood in front of you.
“Sandra, I want you to meet someone. Okay?” you began softly and Sandy replied with a curious nod. You signaled your head to Steve, asking him to come closer. He copied you and almost kneel to your daughter’s height. “Uh… This is Steve.”
You paused, breathing in and out. Sandy took that short time to repeat the name, “‘Teve?”
Steve cannot help but let out a small, low chuckle. Not because she had troubles with her s, but hearing his name from her soft, tiny voice is one of the most amazing things he has ever heard in life.
“Yeah, love. Steve.” you forced a smile but he knows with the shaking of your voice that you are just stopping yourself from tearing up. “He… He is your father.”
“Like a daddy? Like Bella’s?” Sandra quickly picked up, relating the term to her best friend. 
“Yes, you’re right!” you tried to sound cheery but the rim of your eyes is starting to get glossy. To turn Sandy’s attention away from you, you looked at him, “Right, Steve?”
Sandy moved her big, hopeful eyes to him while you quickly wipe away any tears. And Steve doesn’t know who the hell Bella is but he nods, matching the gentle energy you put in your tone, “Yes, Sandy. I’m your dad.”
Maybe Steve expected more. Like maybe a strong embrace. Like the one earlier with Sam when they were at the front door. But Sandy, being the purest person in the room, slowly showed a smile while looking at him, “Wow.”
Steve doesn’t want to get it wrong since she genuinely sounds amazed and maybe surprised. Like when a dazed kid sees a rainbow in the sky. It was a long, slow but stunning wow. Her icy-blue eyes sparkled more. It was the most beautiful pair Steve has seen other than yours. The more he looked at her small, adorable face, the more he feels pride inside of him seeing a mix of you and him. 
“And I brought you a gift.” Steve continued, showing her the gift bags he have. 
She immediately accepted the bags. But first, she looked at you for permission. “Mama?”
“You can open it, love. It’s yours!” you smiled.
As soon as her eyes peeked inside one of the bags, she squealed. Her small feet are even tapping on the ground. Both you and Steve watched in adoration.
She beamed, “Duckie!”
Her hands held a plushie of a yellow, chubby duck with very tiny orange feet. Steve bought it after Sam and Bucky told him how much Sandy loves anything with that animal. She hugged it in her arms, “I love it!”
At last, she took steps toward Steve. She wrapped her short arms around his neck, squishing the stuffed toy in between, “Thank you, ‘Teve!”
“Your welcome, sweetheart.” he laughed and hugged her back.
It was warm and heart-melting. Steve sees you putting on a small, tight smile before getting up. He hoped you’ll join in for the hug. But it’s fine. He knows he still has a lot of things to do and learn. He also needs to talk to you. It will take time but he’s willing to offer all of his to you and Sandy. But for now, this is good.
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FILL IN THE BLANKS TAGLIST
@mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @evanswife1918 @moonshooter @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @haruvalentine4321 @hoodiesandicedcoffee @lilylovelyxo @marvelmenwhore
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time-for-a-lullaby · 2 years
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everything i couldn’t be masterlist
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Pairing: Chris Evans x ex wife!reader
Summary: 4 years after your divorce, you run into Chris at the grocery store. The news that he drops almost brings you to your knees.
Warnings: divorce mentioned, lots of awkward tension. this is pretty angsty and will not have a happy ending. pregnancy mentioned. DO NOT READ THIS IF YOU CANT HANDLE THE FACT THAT THERE ISNT A HAPPY ENDING. please stop asking me to write more lmao it’s not happening.
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Part 1 - Reader POV
Part 2 - Chris POV
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georgiapeach30513 · 2 years
Text
Relapse
Summary: you can’t quit him
Pairings: Lloyd Hansen X Reader
Rating: explicitly angsty
Warnings:  explicit language, explicit sexual content, smut, unprotected sex, PIV sex, sex with an ex, 18+ ONLY
Word Count: 1K
Lloyd Hansen Masterlist
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Rolling up to that familiar house, you want to kick yourself for ever thinking this was a good idea. Looking in the mirror to make sure no one is around. Your hands shaking, as you try to push away the nerves. The raw feeling of not wanting to be alone this evening.
Telling yourself that this was it. This would be the last time, but you doubt yourself. He was your drug that you couldn’t quit. And just when you thought you’d kicked the habit, you relapsed and found yourself on Lloyd’s doorstep.
Not even having to knock on the door, and he was pulling you inside. His own eyes checking to see if the nosey neighbors were seeing who he was pulling into his home.
The moment the door closes, the two of you are like a magnet. The pull clearly evident as your lips press against the others. Everything familiar and comforting, as you and Lloyd start the quick removal of each other’s clothes.
He pulls you closer to him, and your body arches into his. Running your fingers over his hair, and stupidly opening your eyes, and you see the hunger and desperation of his as he starts backing you down to the floor. No time for decorum, just a pure animalistic need to prove that you and him aren’t pure toxicity together.
Laying his body over yours, his hips keep your thighs spread wide, and you feel his hardening cock through his boxer briefs. Whimpering into his mouth, while you pull down his underwear. As old lovers do, his body reacts to your movements. Second nature, natural, and just seamless, as his cock drives into your cunt.
Both hands on his cheeks as you hold him to your face. His hips hypnotic as they stab into your needy cunt. Your body conforming to his perfectly, just like old times. And you ache for something simpler, when the two of you didn’t fight for dominance. The both of feeling like you were always right, and refused compromise. But this? The moment where the two of you connect was always magic.
Looking into his eyes like he was the only one important. Panting into each others mouths, and only seeing him. Only feeling him. Wishing that things were different.
Knowing that this back and forth was such a waste of time, but you yearned for him in a way that you didn’t understand. Needing to just get him and his body out of your system.
“This is the last time,” you whisper onto his neck. Wrapping your legs around him, you push him even closer to you. Balls deep inside of you, and you feel so full and just perfect.
“That’s what you said last night,” Lloyd’s voice heated and raspy as he ruts into you. Unknowing if he wants it to just be over. Try and quit you cold turkey. But the way he moves into you, the feeling of completion with the two of you becoming one, says he’s just as addicted as you are.
Entertaining the notion of one last time, every time. And maybe it was because he needed this hit just as bad as you did. Gripping your nails tightly on his back, you sigh up at him. Knowing there will only be one Lloyd Hansen. He was it, and you couldn’t make it work.
Whispering up his name breathily, you feel his hard exterior start to wilt. That arrogant smirk turning into completely longing for you. Changing his pace to a slow and deep roll, as he puts an arm around you; pulling you even closer to him. “You can’t quit,” he moans onto your skin. Feeling his cock twitch deep inside of you, and you hold on even tighter, “And I don’t want you to.”
“Don’t,” you warn him as you feel the heat build up in your stomach. His thrusts guiding you right to the edge. “I can quit when I’m ready.”
Seeing that glimmer in his eyes when they go glossy, makes you kiss on his neck. Now a fast and pounding pace. Gritting your teeth as your orgasm breaks free. His own body stuttering. Hot ribbons of his cum squirt into your womb, and your body goes limp. “I’m not in love with you,” you whisper at him.
“I am in love with you,” your eyes slowly drift close, and you cling to the sound of that sentiment. One of the things Lloyd never told you while you were together.
“I’m not hurting anybody.”
He leans back, sweat dripping around his hairline, and he shakes his head in disbelief, “You’re killing me. So do I not count?”
“Lloyd, don’t do this. Not right now.”
He pulls himself out of you, and sits onto the floor. His face pointing at you, but his eyes look at anything but you, “We’re just going to hide under the covers and make love all night and pretend that I don’t love you. I love you when you stay and I love when you leave. It just hurts.”
When you sit un-answering he stands, holding a hand down to you. “That’s all you want? Another secret. Pretend that there’s no history, that I’m just a high when you need a hit?”
“Yes. Please. Please, do this for me.”
“This is your last time,” he extends his hand down to help you. Ready to start your night long binge of Lloyd Hansen.
“That’s what you said last time.”
“You’re my favorite drug, Buttercup. I wish you’d allow yourself to be more than that,” you can’t. You won’t. And still within a week or two, you know, you’re going to be right back here. The same song and dance. Both of you know how much you lie to yourselves, but also each other.
“I’m sorry, Lloyd.”
“Yeah…me, too.”
Masterlist
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Taglist:  @tis-thedamn-season @marveloustaylortot @peaches1958 @pono-pura-vida  @thedarkplume​ @duuhrayliegh​ @rebekahdawkins @johndeaconshands​ @harrysthiccthighss​  @donutloverxo​ @whiskeytangofoxtrot555​ @sstan-hoe @randomagnes0210 @bambamwolf87 @whimsyplaty92 @feyfantome @buckysteveloki-me
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abbatoirablaze · 1 year
Text
Good Girls Grown Up
Word Count:  4.3k
Note: This takes place approximately three years before the current timeline of Ex Wive's Club
Warnings:  anxiety, feelings of not being a good enough pairing, slight angst, insecurities, soft! Lee (because that is a warning), bullying, mentions of an unwanted child, angst in children, gaslighting. 
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“Mayor Bodecker, what do you think you are doing?” she whispered softly as her husband’s nimble fingers worked their way sinfully inside of her sleep shorts.  Lee hummed thoughtfully, pressing his erection against his wife’s backside.  His fingers dipped inside of her, and she moaned.  Her eyes flickered closed and her core clenched around the familiar digits, “Lee…oh, fuck…”
“Such improper language for the first lady of our little town.”
She giggled as he nipped along her neck.  Instinctively she bucked her hips against her husband’s hand, his calloused palm dragging deliciously against her clit.  Lee’s own hips pressed forward once more as he was filled with need for her, “Lee…oh, Lee…who cares about language…”
“You’re right,” he agreed thoughtfully.  She whimpered when his fingers pulled out of her, and his hands worked needily on her sleep shorts.  She was quick to stop him, and he frowned.  She turned her head ever so slightly so that she saw him in her peripherals.  He wore a nervous look, “what’s wrong, Em?”
“Lee…the kids…” she sighed, “it’s Easter…they’re bound to barge in…and the triplets…”
Lee looked over to the extra-large bassinet, where his three youngest babies were sleeping soundly.  He sighed to himself, “you know that ‘he’ misses being inside of you, sweet pea…”
“Lee, we have nine little babies now…not six…and four of them have the ability to barge in without their siblings carrying them.”
“Just one taste,” Lee all but begged, his nose gently touching that of his wife’s.  She turned around in his arms, giggling at him.  He frowned a little bit more and she wrapped her arms around his neck, “c’mon sweet pea…we’ve done this since we moved here…I taste you before we start our festivities…it sets my whole day right!”
“Your insatiable nature is the reason we have nine children, mayor!” she teased.
“Oh, it’s not for lack of trying, sweet pea,” Lee smiled, wrapping his arms around his wife, “if you’d let me as much as I wanted to, we’d easily have double the number.”
“Lee Bodecker!” she squealed. 
Lee smiled, “c’mon sugar…there was a time when you were the same…I remember  quite frequently when we were freshly married, you were askin’ for my Bodecker baby juice all the time…”
A new blush rose to her cheeks and Lee shot her a flirtatious wink, “oh I still do want it…but I think we need to seriously consider you getting snipped first…”
She watched the color drain from his face, “snipped?”
“Lee, we have nine babies…”
“What happened to double digits, Mrs. Bodecker?”
“Nine children happened!” she sighed, admitting it aloud, “I don’t know how you’re in your 40’s and manage to keep up with them.  I’m only in my 20’s and they leave me exhausted every night…”
“You want me to hire a nanny to help you out?” Lee asked, a concerned tone taking hold of his voice, “sweet pea…I cou-“
“I’m not saying that, Lee,” she said quickly, cutting him off, “I just-“
“Sweet pea…I don’t want you feeling like you are run ragged by the babies…we got more than enough money to be hiring help!” Lee offered.   He watched how silent he was for a moment, and in that instant he knew that there was a bit more to how she was feeling. 
He started piecing together all the little hints. 
They hadn’t been having as much sex. 
She was less flirty, and always talking about being exhausted. 
Sometimes he’d get home late and she’d already be passed out in bed, the children tucked away. 
Lee waited patiently, “baby…talk to me…just say the word and we’ll do it.”
Em bit her lip, “you wouldn’t be mad?”
Lee felt his heart ache.  He held his wife a little bit closer and reached up to tip her chin up so that she was looking directly at him, “why would I be mad, sweet pea?  We have nine amazing babies together…you gave me that amazing gift!  Hell, you agreed to marry me and let me make nine sweet, beautiful babies with you.  Let me do this for you, baby…”
“I think I need help, Lee…” she admitted with a nod.  Lee nodded in response and wrapped his arms around her.
“We’ll hire some help, baby….and I-I’ll look into a vasectomy.”
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“I-I don’t want to go to school today…”
Jake frowned, looking down at Evie as he served up the pancakes and French toast he’d made for the kids.  His youngest two seemed oblivious to the tension in the room as they munched on their breakfast, but Jake and his eldest son were tuned into Evie’s distress, “why not, Eve?”
“I just don’t want to go!” she muttered, poking at her food, “can I stay home today?  I-I think I need to stay home.  My tummy hurts!”  
“Look, kiddo…we talk about our feelings in this household…you know that!  If you’re feeling sick, we’ll make a doctor’s appointment and get it figured out, but that’s not what it sounds like.  So do you want to talk about it?  If not, we’re going to school today!” Jake said firmly as he placed the pan back on the stove.  When she didn’t respond he put the spatula down and turned around, speaking into the Bluetooth in his ear, where his team was going over the groundwork for a mission, “Clay…pooch, I’m going to have to call you guys back…”
He tapped the side of his Bluetooth without waiting for a response, and then looked to his adopted daughter, “you going to tell me what’s going on, Evie, or do I have to play twenty questions?”
Her jaw tensed momentarily, and her eyes glistened.  She looked to Tyler and he went to speak but she ran away from the table.  Jake looked between his sons and daughter.  Layla and Jacob shrugged, the three and four year old not entirely sure what was going on, while the second grader Tyler bit his lip and looked away from his father.  Jake watched his son’s actions, and he sighed when the little boy refused to make eye contact with him. 
“Tyler…”
“Evie asked Michael to play with her at recess yesterday…and they kissed underneath the slide…”
He fought off the instinctive protective urge that made him want to smack the young Barber boy silly in lieu of hearing the rest of what his son had to say.  He waited, but Tyler remained silent.  Jake’s brow furrowed, “and…”
“Some of the other kids said that Michael only kissed her because he felt bad for her,” he admitted, still biting his lip as he told his father the story, “Evie got sad when they asked why he’d feel bad for her…”
“What did they say, Tyler?”
“That Michael only did it because he feels bad that Evie’s real mom didn’t want her…” he said quickly, “that you and mom only took her in because her mom was going to throw her away!  They started calling her a garbage baby.”
Jake looked down the hall, heartbroken over what his son had just told him.  They’d had a long journey fighting for Evie, and she was wanted amongst the Jenson clan more than anything, “you know that’s not true, right Tyler?”  
“Of course I know that!” he said as though it were the most obvious piece of information he ever heard, “I told Evie that we love her and that she should tell you and mom, but she said no…she tried to talk to Michael and he wouldn’t even look at her.”
Jake’s jaw tensed, “that little shit…”
“Dad…am I in trouble?”
“No bud,” Jake said with a shake of his head.  He reached over and messed with his son’s hair, “you aren’t in trouble.”
“I pushed Michael when he ran away from Evie…”
“I’ll be right back,” Jake said quickly, disregarding the claim that his son made, “you did good in protecting your sister…do me a favor and make sure Layla and Jacob eat breakfast!”
“Okay daddy…”
Jake rushed out of the kitchen and down the hall to where Evie’s room was.  His heart ached as he heard the little girl crying from the other side of the door.  But before he could so much as speak when he burst through the door, he saw that his wife already was there sitting on the bed, with Evie  sitting on her lap and sobbing against her chest.
“It’s okay, Evie,” Maddie sighed, gently smoothing down her half-sister’s hair, “don’t listen to those mean kids at school…”
“They said my real mommy didn’t want me!  They called me a garbage baby,” she sobbed, “and Michael went along with it.  Michael is my boyfriend!  And he didn’t stand up for me.”
“Well I’m going to talk to Sasha and Andy after I drop you off at school-“
“Mommy no!”
“Baby…that’s not right,” she sighed, looking into her half-sisters chocolate orbs, “no one should say that.  And if Michael really was your boyfriend he would have stood up for you.  You said Tyler stood up for you, right?”
“Uh-huh…”
“People that love you will always stick up for you, baby!”  
“But my real mommy didn’t want me!” she argued, “no one wants me…you and daddy just feel bad for me!”
“Don’t you ever say that again!” Maddie said firmly, holding the little girl at arm’s length.  Maddie’s tears reflected Evie’s and both of them refused to move a muscle, “I don’t want you to ever say that again…”
“But it’s true!”
“I want you!” Maddie said quickly, a tear streaming down her cheek, “I want you so desperately to be part of the family Evie…our mother  was a mean woman…but I wanted you so badly.  I fought for you!”
“We fought for you!” Jake agreed from the door. 
Both Evie and Maddie looked teary eyed at Jake.  Jake felt like his throat was closing up, seeing two of his girls in so much pain, but he pushed himself further into the room.  He dropped to his knees, “Evie…Maddie and I want you…Maddie and I adopted you when we got you here…remember?”
The little girl nodded, tears spilling down her cheeks. 
But the trio was shocked when they heard another voice from the door.
“We want you too, Evie!” Tyler proclaimed, “You’re my big sister…you’re all of our big sister…”
“Sissy!” the three-year-old Jacob chirped.  Layla nodded in agreement, rocking back and forth on her feet.
“We love you, sissy!”
Evie sniffled and Jake led the charge, wrapping his arms around both Maddie and her.  The Jensen babies were quick to join in and they all began to reaffirm the love that they held for Evie.  Maddie sniffled and Jake’s eyes caught hers.
‘I love you!’ she mouthed. 
And Jake tearily smiled, wondering how his life managed to go so right.
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“Hey…”
Cami looked up from her desk, surprised to see Sam standing there with kindergarteners Jamie and Stephanie, and his own four-year-old daughter, Kaya.  She bit her lip, unable to hold back the smile from her lips, “well hey there guys…what are you doing here?”
“A few of the guys were working on some new prototypes for the wings on my suit…”he said with a shrug, “picked the girls up, and was going to take them down to the tech lab since the daycare closed down for the day…”
“Again?”
“Your newborn brother can be thanked for that…” he said while holding back a chuckle.  Cami frowned, nervous to ask.  Sam bit his lip, “apparently one of the women was playing with him, and he wouldn’t let go of her finger…”
“Oh no…”
“He snapped it!”
Cami gasped, “No.”
“Was pretty funny watching Buck come and get him…” Sam admitted, “but it’s better than Mel coming down.  You know she would have made those poor girls feel bad for it.  Your dad just looks sad when he tries to fight over it.”
“Oh god…is he arguing with them again?”
“Baby, it’s the second time James injured one of the workers…”
“He’s a serum baby…they know that they’re supposed to not stick their hands in his face,” she sighed, “he’s got super strength.  I mean, Jamie and Stephanie are a lot more mild-mannered than him, and me and Steve were there a lot more…I mean, he cut down on the missions he took, and I didn’t work for a while when I had them…mom is a counselor with those groups and dad’s never slowed down.  James is bored!  Of course he’ll break bones and test waters if someone allows him to.”
“Doesn’t do that to your mom!”
“Mom does have a way with Barnes boys…” she laughed to herself, “she puts them in their place, and quick!”
“Mommy come with us!” Jamie begged, interrupting the adult conversation.
Stephanie and Kaya agreed, “Come down to play with us!”
“Mommy’s busy babies…I have a lot of work I need to do!”
“Please!” Kaya asked, running up to Cami’s desk, “we wanna show you a card we made…we made cards!”
“A card?”
Sam nodded, pulling the attention away from the girls, “they made you and Nia a card because mother’s day was coming up next month…”
“You girls made us cards?”
The girls giggled, excitedly nodding along.  A chorus of squeals met her ears, “and I have to come down with you guys?”
“Uh huh!”
“YEAH!”
“Come with us, mommy!”
“See my mommy?”
“Yes, Kaya, we can stop at the medical ward and see your mommy too!” she agreed, lifting the young Wilson girl up, “after we drop daddy off to go play with his wings, we can see mommy Nia!”   
“Daddy us uppies too?”
Sam smiled, lifting Jamie up first, only to pass her off to Cami, who balanced her on the other hip, and then he turned to Stephanie who was giddly awaiting to be picked up by him.
“Uppies!” Stephanie giggled.
“Yeah, yeah!” Sam smiled, lifting her up, “now you three are stuck with us!”
“YAY!” Kaya giggled.
“Mission Accomplish!”
“To tech!” Jamie demanded.
“Yep,” Sam nodded, already starting out the door, “Mission accomplished girls.  We got mommy out of the office!  Now lets go play with Uncle Tony’s tech and then we’ll see your mommy Kaya!”
The girls were a mess of giggles, chattering excitedly the whole way down to the tech wing, but as soon as Sam let them go to try on the wings, the girls all lost interest. 
It didn’t matter that he was the new Captain America, or that the wings were easily way bigger than them.  The girls were far more excited by the prospect of showing off their cards. 
They had jointly handed off their card for Cami, but the twins insisted that they take the card up to Kaya’s mom.  Sam was okay with the idea, seeing the girls were already starting to get a little bored being forced to be in the space that wasn’t friendly to a child. 
So they quickly made their way up to the medical wing.  Doctor Cho had told Cami that Nia was off in the office, catching up on paperwork. 
And surprised she was, when Cami opened the door to the office, and three little girls were bunched up beside her, rushing on in. 
“Hey, I hope you don’t mind,” she said quickly as the girls ran to the front of the desk, “Doctor Cho said it was okay and we wanted to surprise you!”
Nia smiled, genuinely taken back seeing her little girl excitedly peering at her from over the edge of the desk, “You…wanted to surprise me?”
Cami smiled at how surprised Nia actually looked.  She looked from her daughter to her one time best friend, tears lining her eyes.  Kaya was giggling, the four-year-old holding out a mother’s day card that was nothing more than a bunch of scribbles to her.
“Momma, you!”
“She’s handing it to you, momma!” Cami smirked. 
Nia rushed around the desk and knelt down to her daughter, overwhelmed by the emotions that she’d felt.  She reached out, her hand stroking her daughter’s cheek, before pushing back to tuck some of her curls behind her ear, “it’s beautiful baby.”
“Love you momma!”
Kaya nearly threw herself against her mother, her tiny arms wrapping around her as much as they could.  Nia leaned into her daughter’s touch, “oh baby…thank you.”
The card lay nearly forgotten between the two of them for a few moments. 
“If you’re willing to spring yourself from Dr. Cho for a bit, we could go and grab lunch with the girls.  Sam is testing some new wings in the courtyard.”
“Do you wanna grab some lunch, baby?” Nia asked. 
Kaya nodded excitedly, “We go lunch with mommy and momma.”
“Yeah baby!” Nia confirmed, “let’s go grab some lunch.”
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Sasha bit her nails, unsure of what to do.  She sighed, taking a deep breath as the doctor looked at her, “there’s nothing wrong with your daughter, Mrs. Barber, or so it appears, but we’ll know more after tonight.”
“See, I told you,” Andy smiled reassuringly, “Ashley is doing great!”
“Andy, she’s wetting the bed and screaming in the middle of the night…” she said worriedly, “last week she stopped breathing.”
“You thought she stopped breathing.”
“You don’t have to deal with it,” she grumbled, “you sleep like a rock, Andy…”
“Baby…”
“Well, the two of you will have a night off tonight at least,” the doctor attempted to joke, “the sleep study should reveal any issues that she’s been having and we’ll get to the bottom of it.”
Andy and Sasha shared a look before turning their attention back to the doctor, “you mean we can leave her here?”
“She’ll be monitored the whole night.  You two are free to leave.  The sleep study will end and we’ll have the results by nine AM.”
“Why do you have to discredit everything that I do?” she spat, the left overs to the dinner she, Andy, and Michael had enjoyed, now being put away.
Andy frowned, “what are you talking about, Sash?”
“The doctor’s office, earlier..I thought Ashley stopped breathing,” she remarked, “no, Andy…I didn’t think it happened.  It did happen.  I was check-“
“Here we go again,” Andy growled, cutting her off, “you check on the kids through the night and you spotted her in a second where her breath hitched.  You didn’t have to go rushing in and make it seem like you were saving her life, Sasha.  Ashley was fine.  You scared her when you woke her up like that”
“I’m not crazy, Andy…she did stop breathing!”
“Look, I get it…the kids weren’t your first option, but you’re going overboard, Sasha,” he said angrily, his arms crossing over his broad chest.  He leaned against the counter and glared at her, “but we had Michael.  You walked away and left me with him.  He turned out fine.  When you came back, you agreed to a second child.  You wanted Ashley just as much as I did.  You can’t keep going back and forth about this.”
“What the hell are you saying, Andy?”
“You need to get help,” he said simply, shrugging his shoulders, “I was talking to Bucky and the guys about it bec-“
“You were talking to Bucky?” she growled, “why the hell were you talking to Bucky and the guys about our relationship, Andrew?”
“Mel’s a counselor baby!”
“Don’t baby me,” she replied angrily, “this is not a situation you can just ‘baby’ your way out of.  You were talking about me to the guys…”
“I think you could really help from the support groups that Melissa helps run.”
“I’m not going to that, Andy…we tried it when I went through the postpartum with her, and it didn’t work,” she answered, her defenses building up because of her anger, “my meds are good, and I evened out!”
“You haven’t,” Andy declared, “even before the other week when Ashley supposedly stopped breathing, you were doing things, putting her through unnecessary tests.  There’s nothing wrong with our daughter, Sasha…”
“Andy yes there is!”
“No, there isn’t!” he argued, “now here’s what’s going to happen, Sash…because I’m fucking tired of this.  Tomorrow morning, when we pick up Ashley and the doctor says there’s nothing wrong with her, you’re going to drop it.  No more testing.  No more scaring her.  We’re done with this endless, needless chase.”
“Somethings wrong, And-“
“SASHA if you don’t drop it, I’m going to drop you…plain and simple.  Stop looking for things to be wrong!” Andy said definitively, “because the only issues that exist are the ones that you’re creating!”
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“I don’t want to do it, Ari…”
Ari smiled, watching as his wife held their eldest, balanced on her hip, “you’ve already done it once, my love…but if you’re really upset about letting Isaac going to kindergarten in the fall, we could always-“
“Oh no, Levinson, I know where you’re going with that,” Britt smirked.  She was quick to cover Israels’ ears, even though the sick kindergartener was in a deep sleep against his mother, “and watch that mouth of yours daddy bears…we’ve got baby ears nearby.”
Ari licked his lips and eyed his wife’s form, her sleep shorts leaving her thighs bare, while the fabric of the cami was pushed down ever so slightly from Israel leaning against her chest, “well…he is asleep…we could put him back down in his bed.”
“Ari…”
Ari sighed, knowing how much she missed spending her days with her growing children.  She’d been far too busy at the law firm with her father lately, and had begun missing out on mile markers like Israel losing his first tooth and the Thanksgiving play.  And she’d missed Isaac learning how to tie his shoes.  And their youngest…Britt was heartbroken when she missed Arianna’s first day of daycare just so that she could get some socialization with children other than her two older brothers. 
“I know mommy bear!” Ari agreed, coming in close to his wife.  He reached out and took Israel out of her arms, and the little boy snuggled against his father, adjusting quickly, “you wanted to go back to work though…”
“I thought I would be okay…”
“We can talk to your dad together if you want,” Ari offered, “I’m sure he’d underst-“
“No…we can’t bring it up!” she frowned, “you know how much issues he’s having with Sasha…”
“But if this is affecting you this much-“
“Ari…dad doesn’t need the stress…I-I’ll get through it,” she argued quickly and quietly, following her husband as he went to Israel’s room and laid the five year old down, “I just didn’t know that I’d miss spending this much time with the kids…and I mean, one of us has to work…you retired from the embassy.  And-“
“Hey…calm down,” Ari said gently.  She stared helplessly up at him while he held her by the shoulders, “you are an amazing, intelligent woman, who is a force to be reckoned with, in and out of the courtroom.  But you are just one woman.  You need to take care of yourself just as much as you want to take care of everyone else.  If not being home is getting to you this much that you need an out, I’ll go back to work.  I have contacts, and I could pick up as an independent contractor…and I can do it all from home.”
“I can’t just leave dad in the dust…”
“You’re not…and he’ll understand that.  You’re a junior partner, and you’ve done so much for him with the law firm.  You could still consult.  You could work from home if you really want.  I’m sure your dad would appreciate you being the one who looks up the background for his cases.  He’d love to have some free time.  You could step down, and do the leg work,” Ari said kindly, “you’ve always loved that best about being a lawyer anyways.”
“I have…” she admitted, thoughtfully thinking it over, “god, I really have.”
Ari smiled, “see…and you could spend more time with the kids…and with me…”
“There it is,” she teased, “the real reason he’s helping out…”
“Hey…if I get to taste that honeypot more often, who knows,” he shrugged playfully, “I may convince you of a fourth child yet…”
“Ari…”
“That’s not a no,” he smirked, finally letting go of his wife and sauntering out of the room.  Britt felt a sense of relief as she thought about what she and Ari discussed.  She could talk to her father, and if she really needed to, she knew that Ari would go with her as well and she wouldn’t have to worry about anything other than taking care of herself and her family, “you coming to bed, mommy bear?”
Britt giggled, finally exiting her son’s bedroom.  As the door clicked softly behind her she was surprised to see Ari’s shirt in the middle of the hall, leading towards the open bedroom door.  As she walked and picked it up, she spotted his sleeping pants just around the corner of the door. 
“Ari…”
“Come to bed, mommy bear….daddy’s got a little of his own honey waiting for you…”
Britt giggled a little bit more, her previous anxieties washing away as she lightly jogged down the remaining length of the hall and into her bedroom.  Her eyes nearly bulged out as she shut the door.  Her husband was laying naked on the bed in front of her. 
“Well hello there, mommy bear,” he smirked huskily.  Britt’s eyes raked down his muscular, hairy frame.  The rasp in his voice sent a shiver down her spine, and her thighs instinctively clenched.  Her mouth went dry as she watched him stroking his already hard cock, “should we make a little extra time to let mommy bear feel good?”
“Oh I think she more than deserves it!” she purred, sauntering towards her husband as her fingers worked on pulling her camisole off.
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siremasterlawrence · 5 months
Text
A Tale Of Two Worlds Part 1
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Steve Rogers enters the room completely in a stage of shock to see so men here after all the topic nobody understands because we are guys we can’t be - be.
Another young man about his age African American, very handsome and it’s assured Steve can’t keep his eyes off of him he sits down eyes darted to the floor.
The hour passes by as everyone except for Steve, Sam, Oliver, and also Barry but they all seem to connect on some level as everyone else
Outside Sam lays his back on the wall leans hard his eyes staring aimlessly in to the void of the sky the sunlight so bright and fully beautiful.
His hands dug in to his tight jeans wrap on to his hips he rummaging through his pocket he removes a cigarette packet pulling out a cigarette.
Popping it in to his mouth he opens his shirt pocket flipping it upward to take out his liter flipping it up as yet cigarette lit up he places it all back.
Steve stops cold when he sees him caught off guard he stares at Sam puffing all of the smoke into the air he takes a whiff of his own sadness.
Sam continues to smoke taking one puff in after another the smell rises like a fucking chain smoker but Steve inhaled it all like a last breath.
Sam notices him staring at him catching Steve he is totally embarrassed at the fact and the two start cracking up at their odd situation.
“Can I help you with something or are you just browsing?” Sam says not caring how it sound and Steve smirks a bit with a feeling he has yet to feel.
“Actually! Yes I can’t help it I saw you today and I don’t know.” Steve admits his head goes down and scratches his head cutely in a shock.
“Well! Steve right? Let’s start over I am Sam. I saw you in there.” Sam says with a heavy smile filled with sadness and Steve can feel it in himself.
“I guess you heard my story last week my ex girlfriend Peggy and boyfriend Bucky not only cheated on me but physically abused me.”
“I am sorry to hear that Steve my ex tried to kill me…yeah I guess I beat you on that I am not sure why I said that. We are off kilter obviously.”
“Is it weird that I feel connected to you? I am kind of shock.” Steve says getting brave he asks Sam if they could get a coffee maybe tonight.
Sam reluctantly agreed offering a his hand to shake Steve takes it firmly as they shook exchanging numbers and went their ways home.
Sam has about two hours to get to get his life back on track as he closes the door to his apartment and runs in to her bedroom in a panic.
He thinks maybe should cancel when he is brought from his thoughts at the pounding of the door his ex is there when he finally sees who is bothering him.
“Hal? It’s you! What do you want? I Told you “
“Ssshhh! I know babe! I got help”
“I can’t right now because…”
“You have date or something?”
“I do yes! Leave “
“Fuck that! Cancel it “
“Why should I?”
“You attempted to kill Mr”
“I made a mistake “
“A mistake! Are you kidding me?”
“Yes babe!”
“GET OUT!”
“Hell no!”
“I am home”
“Your phone! Who is Steve?”
“My date ! Give it to me”
“Ah ah! Ow”
“That should teach a lesson”
Sam backs up from Hal answering the call in a single switch then proceeds to inform Steve of his situation and says he will try to make it.
Steve can’t get an answer before the call end with Sam hanging up, Steve panics exiting the coffee shop he jumps on a motorcycle and rides off.
Sam told him where he lives parking the bike he hops off racing up the stair to his place and pounds on the door as Sam answers not sure of what’s to come.
“Sam! I am sorry I can’t help but worry”
“Who the hell are you ?”
“Sam’s date”
Hal stood up grabbing his collar of his dress shirt as he thrust his fist in to his stomach and shoving him in to the wall and Steve kicks him in the shin.
Hal digs in to his pants pulling out a gun he points it at Sam by accident the trigger pulls and Steve jumps in to rustle with him but in the last minute Sam starts to punch Hal in a fit of rage in the heat of the moment.
“Wait the gun…no…is he dead?”
“I think he is…damn you Hal!”
The blood pools outward as the two men very different are back in the lower center of it all.
“Are you ok Sam?”
“Yeah Steve”
The end
15 notes · View notes
readingislife · 1 year
Text
Unwanted
Warnings: Some language that may not be acceptable to some, but is very much how many folks in the Boston area talk (see Matt Damon discuss Good Will Hunting’s rating due to its “language” issue HERE for context)
A/N: This is my first story on this platform, and yes, I'm nervous to share it.
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. It’s made up. Seriously, I do not have a crystal ball or any “insider” knowledge from any “sources”.
I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site, even if you give me credit. DO NOT REPOST MY FICS please! Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback are ALWAYS appreciated.
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You wanted to claw his eyes out. Scratch up that handsome face. Tear a few chunks of that fluffy hair out by the roots. Knock a few teeth out so his smile wasn’t such a testament to his father’s work.
You didn’t. You couldn’t.
Because he was too much of a coward to face you.
Instead you looked up across the table at your children’s faces. Your daughters’ tear-streaked faces showing their struggles to reconcile his actions with the perch he held in their hearts and their devout belief in him that he would never willingly and willfully hurt either of them or their brother.
Your son’s face was a mask reading primarily of anger and disgust, and you guessed betrayal, since the public pictures you’d all seen were date-stamped, leaving no question that rather than attending the playoff game to watch your son take the field as he’d begged his father to do, he’d instead chosen to go for a walk through quiet, isolated Central Park with someone supposedly so important to him, he’d never bothered to mention her to your children or even introduce them.
You? You just couldn’t care anymore. There was no heartbreak for yourself at this point - you’d been through this too often. The broken promises, the hidden texts, the expectation that you were truly oblivious when in fact you’d noticed every time something was out of place or a piece of clothing that wasn't yours ended up in the vacuum hose at your other homes. At this point, you guessed you needed to be thankful he at least didn’t overtly bring them into your family home, instead relegating them to the vacation and West Coast homes and whatever rental or hotel room he was in during whatever project he was filming. 
You knew this was his true character, and you weren’t alone in that knowledge. As his favorite “twitterbae” noted on social media, “a man’s character is his fate”, and boy, did that quote fit him well. His personality, while great for acting, led him to still behave as though he were in his twenties and single, despite promising you a future together and the addition of three of the best of you and him combined, children he’s repeatedly said he wanted so desperately but then seem to feel ambivalent to the existence of. 
The resulting actions driven by that personality, decisions he made without consideration for anyone else’s wellbeing including yours or your children’s, led to the fracture of your marriage years before. That you could cope with. What you wrestled with was how a man who’d proclaimed so often to the world he was looking to have a wife and family that it became part of his public persona was so easily able to shed the roles of husband and more importantly, father, when he’d tired of them. His involvement in their lives, yours, and your family as a whole quickly waned as the kids outgrew the cute toddler phase and wanted more of his attention than the rare public event when he wanted his family in attendance for publicity’s sake, and you asked him to be a more active partner in their rearing.
Your family members and those who were your friends before you and he were together were disgusted by his behavior. His family? You didn’t ask and they didn’t say. Too many years of close proximity between them and him led you to distance yourself from them rather than put them in an uncomfortable position having to pick sides… and you knew he would have blamed you for any level of disconnect he felt from them.
After a good many nights sobbing into your pillow at the helplessness you felt watching your marriage decay and with the help of your family and friends, you’d realized it was truly a case of “it’s not me, it’s him”. Some court-mandated pre-divorce family therapy even led the therapist to report back to the mediator and both attorneys this was the end of a marriage at his hands and only at his request. 
The only emotion he showed during the divorce hearings was anger when your lawyer was able to impress upon the mediator that you were 100% the aggrieved party in this case and named your cost to end the marriage. He was too arrogant to consider he may have pushed your tolerance past its breaking point, and his team was too busy taking part in gaslighting you, trying to portray him as someone saddled with a selfish spouse who wasn’t satisfied with the life he was more than willing to work hard to provide you, to notice some of the fail safes you’d put in place. When you began to feel him pull away from your marriage and rightfully guessed he was finding comfort in the arms of someone else, you’d consulted your own team - your friends who’d been there since before you’d met him, who’d celebrated your love story, and who now comforted and supported you and your children during the death of it. 
He should have remembered your friends’ experiences, but you realized he prioritized spending time with his friends when you were together… and even when you weren’t. Had he bothered to socialize with them, to talk to them rather than staying in the yard or his “man cave” with his buddies when you had everyone over for parties, he might have had a clue of the resources easily available. The high school friend who’d been so enamored with a man twice divorced when they married she didn’t realize the potential that she’d be Ex-Wife #3, who’d barely been able to retain ownership and control of the business her family had built over four generations in the settlement. The college roommate who’d recently established her own legal firm specializing in ending marriages as amicably as possible after watching her parents use her as a pawn in their never-ending divorce battle. The childhood friend who'd become a security analyst with the military, served his time, and was now working in IT for a major research university. He even forgot about your background as a computer programmer, the years you spent working in the field before you gave it up to travel with him to various set locations and later to stay home with your young children as he supposedly traveled alone. 
He didn’t know about the meetings you had with your own “team” when you felt your marriage heading for the rocks. You’d wanted to hope for the best, but protecting your children took precedence. Unlike his “team” meetings where PR campaigns were dreamed up, commitments were made with full disregard for a shared family calendar with notes about parent/teacher conferences and sports banquets, and his dirty secrets were dug holes and locked away from the public’s eyes, your team gathered to be tearfully told your fears about the potential of your marriage to survive much longer, and to discuss what would help make such a transition easier on you and the kids, especially if he or his team decided to not play nice.
They decided not to play nice. It didn’t fit their narrative for him. The social media posts and interviews started to sound the same: he loved his family; you and he decided to keep your family life private; he spent as much time as he could at home; and so on. Then the excuses became more accusatory: you didn’t like to travel; due to your and the kids’ schedules you couldn’t attend the event; and more reasons why he wasn’t with you. However, thanks to the efforts of some paparazzi, pictures began to appear of him out at parties with other women on his arms or, better yet, drunkenly talking into microphones on red carpets while he flirted with the ingenues catching his attention. 
When it became clear his team was doing whatever it could to spin the narrative, your friends stepped in. The college roommate invited your group, including your children, to her summer home in the White Mountains. Knowing full well he wouldn’t be at home with you, you looked forward to the chance to get away and share a weekend with people who loved you and your kids in an area you enjoyed spending time in. 
You joked afterwards with them that the weekend should be offered as a retreat entitled: “Do You Want To Stay Married To This Asshole, And If Not, How To Best Protect Your Interests”. It was not, as he might have suggested if he’d cared to even check in as to how you and the kids were doing that weekend, a meeting to figure out how best to screw him out of his money or harm his career. It was instead a discussion about how to protect your children from the publicity that would ensue from a divorce, how to ensure their college funds wouldn’t be accessible for him to squander, and how to extricate yourself as quietly as possible from someone you feared would be volatile during the process. 
One bit of advice you addressed immediately was to set up a forwarding address for the security cameras’ backups at all your properties. Your skills as a programmer came in handy, as did the talents of a good friend who knew her way through backdoors in various programs and on the web, and you began building a portfolio of proof to shield yourself and your kids with when he and his team began to lay the grounds for his filing for divorce. Having footage of multiple partners doing “walks of shame” from your LA home while you were in Massachusetts, along with surreptitiously-obtained copies of the NDAs he made them sign, were like gold when you were finally faced with the packet of papers that spelled the legal end of your marriage, ensuring a fair and equitable settlement was provided for you and your children. 
His team certainly tried to paint you as the jealous money-hungry ex until your lawyer spoke quietly with his legal team, showing them just a glimpse of the evidence you had gathered of his flagrant behavior across a sickeningly large span of time and locations. He promised them not only would you contest the divorce but you would file for an at-fault finding against him, giving them a headache and a half of negative publicity to deal with. His legal team put the kibosh on any further attempts to target you in the proceedings, and you allowed the no-fault decision and accompanying settlement to proceed.
What surprised everyone involved in your divorce was the ease with which he relegated his children to the back of his life, using the excuse of “I never know when I’ll be filming and I'd have to try to juggle my career and time with them." He literally stated on the record he would “see (his) children when his schedule permits and if they are available.” When everything was finalized, the mediator said it best as she’d given her last comments. “It’s sad to see someone so willing to so easily give up on what so many struggle to find, have, and would cherish for a lifetime.”
The divorce was almost anticlimactic, as they’d become accustomed to his absence. It wasn’t that they didn’t feel it. It was that the countless birthdays he wasn’t at to see them blow out the candles, the multiple Christmases where his absence was illustrated by the pile of presents wrapped by little hands and adorned with name tags reading “To Daddy, Love Us'', the more mundane events like swim lessons and recitals and school plays and recognition ceremonies all attended by the constant presence of only their mother - they’d learned as quickly as you had to lower their expectations of him to avoid being disappointed with every broken promise. With more therapy, not only were you able to recognize you were a survivor rather than a victim, but you and your children were able to embrace the knowledge you all deserved far better than he was capable or chose to give.
But this situation left your head spinning. Your son had worked his hardest and made the varsity team as a freshman. He’d taken it upon himself to reach out to his father, and in a moment of clarity, Chris had promised to be there. You didn’t realize his plan was to make it a photo op to sell the “I’m a caring father” angle, which in turn his team thought would bolster his chances at a new role he was in the running for. Once Chris committed, the rest of his family called, asking where and when the game would take place. That should’ve been a huge red flag for you, but the joy on your son’s face at the thought of his dad getting to be part of a big accomplishment for him was something you couldn’t bring yourself to tarnish.
Instead, the paparazzi were there to capture the look on your son’s face when he ran onto the field and saw the empty seat next to you, the absence highlighted even more by the attendance of his mother and sisters and their families. Your high school friend stalked the photographers, and with her own high-powered camera used to capture the players’ game photos for the school’s yearbook giving her the appearance she was one of them, she’d overheard a few of them complaining about the misleading calls they’d gotten from his team confirming he’d be present at the game for the publicity shots, and how their counterparts had gotten conflicting intel.
When she’d shared the overheard conversations with you, you immediately knew something was in the works by his team and your instincts proved correct. You’d known before the ink dried he’d take advantage of his new “single” status in the limelight but had held out hope that somewhere he’d realize what his ignorance was costing him - fatherhood for these great kids you’d chosen to have together - and he’d change course just a bit. The pictures showing he preferred a quick walk with his “long-time love” over keeping his promise to his son fractured that small bit of hope.
You heard the front door open and a voice you’d come to love called out for you. Nick, someone you’d met at a school fundraising event when you both were trying to outbid one another on a manicure party you thought would be perfect for each of your youngest daughters’ birthdays, not realizing they were classmates and becoming good friends, had quickly become a frequent presence in your home. You’d hoped he’d have some words or advice to add to yours that would help comfort your children in the face of their father’s latest letdown.
You rose to greet him but then heard the familiar sound of toenails on the floorboards. Shocked, you looked at the entry into the kitchen and saw a dog trotting towards the end of the table your kids were at, headed to your son, his favorite person besides his owner. Your eyes lifted as the form of the man who’d caused your children’s tears emerged, Nick’s face behind him immediately conveying he’d been ill-equipped to give you advance warning for this unwelcome visitor. 
“I’m sorry, he was already at the door before I realized.” he whispered to you as he walked quickly to your side. You nodded your head to let him know you’d heard him as you kept your eyes on your ex-husband as he stepped further into the room, behaving as if he’d just arrived home from a day at the office in time for dinner with his family.
He glared in Nick’s direction. “Not sure why you're apologizing to my wife and kids for me being in my own kitchen." Before you could remind him you were no longer his wife and the house was deeded in your name alone thanks to the settlement agreement, you saw movement from across the table as your son stood up suddenly, forcing his chair to fall backwards. The dog, sensing his distress, tried to nuzzle his hand as he’d done so many times, but your son crossed his arms in front of him, as if to center himself.
“Why are you here, Chris?”
“Don’t call me Chris. I’m your father, and…”
“You’ve got to be joking. You’d actually have to want to show up and be a father. Nick has more right for me to call him Dad than you. You’re nothing but a liar!”
“I am your father, like it or not, and you are not going to insult me like this! Y/N, are you going to say something or not?” All eyes moved to you, waiting for your response. 
“Oh no, Chris. This is all on you. He has every right to be livid, and you're just lucky he hasn’t taken a swing at you because I don’t think any of us would willingly stop him.”
“Seriously? Fine. Okay. I’ll admit I screwed up. I realized I’d double-booked myself and…”
“Really, Dad?” Your middle child looked up at her father, tears quickly drying as her brother’s anger spread. “You’re going to give some piece-of-shit lame-ass excuse while you paraded around in public with a girl who literally could have been our babysitter a few years ago? Like we live under a rock and wouldn’t find out? You’re pathetic!”
“Young lady, do not talk like that to me. She’s a very lovely young woman and you kids will…”
A snort came from your youngest’s seat. “Seriously, Dad. You’re more concerned about telling us NOW she’s a “lovely young woman” instead of how you once again proved you are a huge disappointment we just have to put up with? Oh, I can’t wait for therapy this week!” she said snidely.
You hadn’t said another word, part of you wanting to congratulate your children for standing up for themselves against this toxic entity you’d unknowingly tethered them to, and part of you wanted to have Nick put his arms around you to center you. 
Chris took a few steps towards you. “Got anything to add, Y/N? What? No additional nasty comments about…”
Before you knew it, your hand had come up and your palm met his cheek.
“Get out of my house, Chris, before I call the police. You were not invited in, you are not welcome, and you are not wanted by anyone here.”
At least you didn’t knock any of his teeth out.
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evansbby · 2 years
Note
I wanna know what ari would do if baby came down in the middle of the night for a drink or something and witnessed ari and his men talking about idk mafia shit and she’s just standing there, no panties, aris shirts on, floppy in one hand, thumb in mouth like 😳 and runs away from ari up into his bedroom…like how would he react? Would he be mad she came down? Mad she got scared of him?
Oh, she’d be so scared and Ari would baby her so much! But I think he’d also be stern, because he’s her daddy after all 😵‍💫😵‍💫
Warnings: dark!Ari, dd/lg, slight somno, smut, daddy kink, dubcon.
“How many times have I told you not to come downstairs when daddy’s having a grown-up meeting?”
The harshness in Ari’s tone makes you flinch, but your heart’s still thudding like crazy after what you heard — or think you heard — downstairs. You cuddle Floppy close, sniffling into his soft fur and willing yourself to stop shaking.
“H-Heard Mr. Curtis say that you guys plan on… on killing a man.”
Ari sighs, grabbing your shaking body and placing you in his lap. He’d followed you up to your shared bedroom the moment you’d let your presence be known — you’d let out a whimper while he’d been in the middle of discussing a potential hit that Curtis was going to carry out later that night. But you didn’t have to know that.
“Baby, you have nothing to worry about. Mr. Curtis was only talking about his favourite movie.” Ari lies, voice dripping sweet like honey as he presses soft kisses all over your face and squeezes you tightly against his chest.
“M-Movie?” You hiccup.
“Yes, honey. Curtis likes those grown-up movies that babies like you aren’t allowed to watch. You know, gory movies with murder and all that. He was just describing his favourite scene.” Your husband laughs, tucking your hair behind your ear, “You couldn’t possibly believe daddy would kill anyone, could you?”
You feel ashamed now for overreacting. After all, your daddy is the best and kindest husband in the world. He always buys you whatever you want and he protects you, too. You don’t really understand what exactly his job entails but Ari says that babies like you aren’t supposed to worry about grown-up things like that.
He rubs his thumb against your bottom lip and your mouth immediately parts open, readily accepting his thumb and sucking it softly. The action calms you down almost immediately, as does Ari’s other hand which is softly stroking your body all over.
“That’s right, honey. Just relax and suck on daddy’s thumb like a good little baby.” His eyes grow dark as he watches you submissively suck his thumb, looking so cute and sexy at the same time. He knows you get “the tingles” down there when you suck his thumb, and it’s the perfect way to distract you.
“Mm, what a good little baby girl.” Ari praises you when you begin to hump your pussy against his leg absentmindedly, your eyes growing heavy and not noticing as your daddy lifts your shirt up, fondling and squeezing at your breasts in sudden carnal hunger.
“Next time you feel the need to go downstairs in the middle of the night, you ask me first, got it?” He cradles you against his beefy body, making a mental note to tell Curtis not to walk around downstairs with a bloody shirt on when he returns from the job.
“Daddy loves you so much, baby.” Ari whispers, watching your eyes close as you half fall into slumber, not noticing his fingers trailing your bare pussy lips. You’re all puffy and wet down there, just as he expected. “Now you’re gonna let me make my baby feel better, aren’t you?”
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imyourbratzdoll · 11 months
Text
𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒊𝒕 𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒃𝒆𝒈𝒂𝒏
part 5 of 💔broken family💔
summary - a year has passed, and maybe there's a chance for new beginnings.
the gif I use isn't mine, headers by me.
part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - part 4
Warnings and Reminders - Please do not plagiarise, copy, repost/republish, adapt, or translate any of my work on any social media platforms, apps, or third-party sites. The only platforms I post my work on are: Tumblr and Wattpad. I do not own any character of any franchise (Marvel etc.) All my works are fiction and may be dark or triggering content: READ ALL WARNINGS BEFORE PROCEEDING.
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A year passed after your talk with Ari, and things began to change. He’d no longer treat you horribly when you dropped your son off, and you had continued going to therapy, knowing you still had things to work through. Your boss understood when you met with her for coffee, telling you to take as much time as needed. You felt happier than you have felt in a long time. It still hurt knowing you and Ari weren’t together because to you, he was still your soulmate, the love of your life, but you had no idea where he stood anymore.
You looked around your house, a final goodbye as you needed to move on from here. It was so lonely and quiet. All of your things were being packed and moved to a moving truck. There wasn’t a point in keeping a house this size if it would just be you staying there at times. You stared, remembering all the good times you had when things were happier and simpler. Little feet pitter-pattered through the empty house, coming straight toward you. “Mumma!” You quickly kneel, catching your energetic son as he clings to you. 
“Hi, baby. Did you get everything?” Jason nods, and you press a soft kiss on his forehead. “Do you want to say bye, house?” He rests his head on your shoulder, turning to look at the house.
“Bye-bye, house!” He waves, and your heart feels warm as you carry him out of your old memories and toward the new. His little chubby fingers curl into the top of your pink sundress, looking at you with big eyes. “Get drink, mummy?” 
You nod, “Yeah, baby. We can get a drink.” You place him into his car seat before hopping into the driver’s side and driving to your favourite coffee shop. The memories that had been formed here were… Special. You park your car, get out and grab hold of your son again. You begin to walk into the place, the smell of coffee filling your senses, causing your eyes to close for a split second. You stand in line, holding your son’s hand as he babbles about some new thing happening at school, and you listen, smiling down at him occasionally because you don’t know where you’d be without him. 
“Mumma, mumma! Should see my drawing! Teacher hung it up! Is good!” He grins, his two front teeth missing from a few nights ago. The joy he felt when he realised the tooth fairy would be visiting was the best feeling to watch. He had placed his teeth under the pillow, and when morning came. His little squeals filled the room, and he ran out to show you the money. The only downside was that Ari wasn’t there to see it happen, to experience his son losing his teeth, or to see his excitement. You knew he would’ve enjoyed the precious moment as much as you did. Jason tugs on your hand, moving closer as the line moves. “Can I has the strawberry shake, pwease, mummy?” 
You nod, squeezing his hand. “Of course, you can, baby.” A chill ran through you, a sense of deja-vu flashing before you as you looked over to the table you had first seen Ari sitting at. A spark buzzed through the air when your eyes connected with the very same pretty blues you had grown to love. He had been watching you the moment you walked through the door, experiencing the same deja-vu when he had seen you in your pink sundress. You had become more beautiful than ever, a glow wrapping around you as you smiled at whatever your son was babbling on about.
Ari smiled softly, feeling his heart warm as you smiled back. He watched as you and Jason headed to the front, ordering what he presumed would be your favourite coffee and possibly a shake for Jason, as his son loved those. Especially the strawberry, and he had been going through a strawberry phase lately.
It was as if the universe was telling you something because as you and Jason had been waiting for your drinks, occasionally looking over at Ari, who never took his eyes off of you. You could feel like something familiar was going to happen, and when you grabbed your drinks, handing the strawberry shake to your son, and were about to take a sip of your coffee. A man bumped into you, causing your drink to splash out and stain your pink sundress. Everything began to move in slow motion, your son clutching your dress with the hand that wasn’t gripping his drink and Ari standing and moving toward you the same way he did many years ago. 
His hand landed gently on your hip, silently asking if you were okay before turning to the man, and the weird thing was, he had been the same man that had bumped into you when you and Ari first met, on the same day, in the same coffee shop, in the same dress. You watched with wide eyes, never moving your hand from your son as Ari ripped into the man, and when the man ran off, Ari took you and Jason to the same booth before going up and ordering you another drink. You watched him from your seat, your son oblivious, but your and Ari’s eyes connected as if you could feel the same strange feelings you had felt those years ago between you.
Ari returned with the drink and some napkins, helping you soak up the remaining coffee and asking if you were okay. Your eyes never once leave him, and Jason looks up, watching his parents stare at each other with a look he had only seen once before when the whole family was together.
You smile softly, putting your hand out. “I’m Y/n.”
And a grin appears on Ari’s face, following your action as his large hand fills yours. “A gorgeous name for a gorgeous woman. I’m Ari.” You swear everyone could feel the sparks flying between the two of you.
“I, Jason.” Your son’s tiny hand lands on yours and Ari’s, grinning. You and your ex's eyes move toward your son’s as you both break out into laughter. Your hands come down and tickle his chubby belly. “Mummy! Mummy! Stop! Tickles!” He giggles, trying to squirm away from you, and glares at his father, who decides to join in. “No! No! You suppose to help me, daddy!” 
The two of you stop, placing a soft kiss on top of your son’s head before your eyes connect again, and you smile.
Because maybe fate had planned this, perhaps this was where you were supposed to be.
Where it all began.
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thank you for reading!
feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.
this is sadly the end of the series, and I thank everyone for being with me for this ride.
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onsunnyside · 2 years
Note
a sunny bunny request. ex!bryce chases reader down in the woods like a little bunny rabbit after seeing her happy and thriving at his grandfather's annual easter brunch. he asserts his dominance over her. - bratty spice
THE LEGENDARY BRATTY SPICE, I MISSED YOU BESTIE !! hehe I was hoping you’d send something in, i’m always excited for whatever ideas you have, i hope you enjoy this !!
𝗣𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 | dark!ex!Bryce Langley x reader
𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 | dark!Bryce, SMUT - minors DNI, non-con/dub-con, toxic and possessive behaviour, unprotected sex (p in v), pussy slapping, dirty talk, daddy kink, public sex: woods, gagging (with panties), dacryphilia, choking, degradation, dumbification
𝗪/𝗖 | 1055
🐰 𝐒𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲 𝐁𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
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The cool breeze is a sharp contrast to the heat against your back, and the soft dirt beneath your feet. You lost your shoes sometime ago, tripping over too many sticks and stones to make any true escape. 
You should’ve known better—you should’ve known you’d never be completely rid of him. 
“Are you done now?” His warm breath fans across your cheek as blood rushes through your ears. “Daddy’s done playing now, honey, you’ve ran enough.” 
“Don’t touch me!” You struggle in his hold and your ass presses against the growing bulge in his pants. 
“Fuck—I missed you, didn’t you miss me?”
“No!” You dumped him for a reason, he was too controlling, he wanted to have the final say in every part of your life—and when you wanted some space, he tried to get you pregnant by messing with your birth control.  
Bryce as a father, that was laughable. 
“I love chasing you, but I know you miss my mouth, my hands, and my fat cock tearing your little fuckhole.” He groans deeply, kissing down your neck and ripping the front of your dress. The lace and cotton hang limply around your body, “Remember how hard you cum whenever I plug you up and play with your cunt? All the toys we have at home…”
“Bryce, get off me!” You shove him back and he slams into a thick tree, but he doesn’t waste any time and pulls you with him, holding you against his firm body. 
“God, you know I love when you fight back.” He exhales, eagerly hiking up your ruined dress. The pale yellow fabric covered in dirt, leaves and sticks from your tumble a few moments ago. That one misstep landed you into his arms once again. “No one is as fiery as you, baby.”
Then, you’re on your back, and Bryce easily overpowers your kicking legs and swinging arms, his muscles flexing under the thin material of his shirt. 
“Let daddy check his pussy, yeah?” Your panties are torn off and clenched in his fist, he brings the cotton to his face, deeply inhaling. “Fuck, missed this so bad.” His blue gaze locks on your cunt, your folds sticky and wet. “You did miss me.” 
You cover your face in shame, trying to ignore the sound of his pants unbuckling. “Bryce, don’t.” 
His hard cock slips between your folds, collecting your wetness with the bulbous tip. “Creamy little whore, let’s see if your pussy remembers me.”
You make one last attempt to get free, but a rough spank to your cunt makes you squeal.
“Shh, you’re gonna scare the animals.” He leans down, kissing you messily before shoving your panties into your mouth. “That’s better, you’re so pretty when you’re gagged.” He slowly sinks into you, watching the fear in your eyes fade away with every inch of his length, until you’re just a shuddering mess and he’s balls deep. 
Sticks dig into your back as he pulls out to slap your clit with the head, spreading your slick. He marvels at your juices as they pour out, his mouth waters, “Hear that, baby? Your pussy is crying ‘cause she misses me.” 
Dread sinks in your heart, weighing you into the dirt as you lie there, victim to your ex-boyfriend’s actions. You start crying, but you’re too confused to know why—you did miss him, but this wasn’t right, Bryce wasn’t a good man, he’s too controlling, too possessive and toxic. 
You shouldn’t want this, but you do. 
Suddenly, he rips the cotton from your mouth, hooking your legs over his shoulders and folding you in half. You cry out at the angle, his thick girth stretching you wide and pressing into your spot, the spot that only he has ever reached. 
“How dare you leave me—you’re nothing without me.” He grips your neck, applying pressure as he thrusts into you. “Look at you, a fucking stupid mess. You think anyone can ruin you like this? You’re fucking lucky to have me hooked on you.” 
“Bryce, please—stop.”
“Hm… I don’t think so.” He spits down where you meet, then into your open mouth, he takes great pleasure in the torn look on your face—caught between utter disgust and terror, and pure desire. “You keep sucking me in, fuck, just like that.” He grunts, cheeks carrying a deep flush that spreads down his neck. He coos as you turn away, squeezing your eyes shut. “Daddy knows you like this, it’s okay.”
“Y-You’re sick.” You manage between breathy gasps, the pleasure courses through your body in strong currents. You latch onto the back of his shirt, moaning when he sneaks a hand down to rub your button, giving it a few little spanks. 
“Then, you are too.” He can read you like a book, always have and always will. “That’s why we’re perfect for each other, baby. Two people, fucked in the head—daddy missed you so much. Kept watching those old videos of us just to get off.”
You cut him off with a high-pitched whine, wrapping your legs around his hips and desperately trying to meet his thrusts. Your mind overtaken by those times, full of messy, passionate sex, all of it caught on his cellphone.  
“Yeah, you remember them? You wanna know my favourite?” He leans back to tug off his shirt, carelessly throwing it to the side before latching onto your nipple, hips continung their relentless assault.
“Your birthday, when you fucked yourself stupid on my cock, didn’t let me leave for hours. Drenched those sheets, and rode my face until I couldn’t breathe. I wouldn’t even be mad if I died that day.” His heavy balls slap against you, and wet noises fill the woods, tainting the nature with your filth. 
You tighten around him, squeezing his cock. “Daddy, please don’t stop.” You beg, weakly pulling him to meet your lips. His tongue slips into your mouth, followed by his gutteral groans as your cream forms a ring at the base of his girth. 
“Dumb baby, you don’t have to say that.” When you part, there’s a string of saliva connecting you both, and it’s cut when he spits into your mouth, some lands on your cheek that he spreads around your face. “Daddy’s never going to stop, and you’re never going to leave me again. Got it?” 
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kiki-bridges · 1 year
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True Love Will Find You in the End -Part 4
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Summary: You want to take your relationship with Pedro to the next level. How will your ex, Chris, handle the news?
Y/N x Chris Evans, Y/N x Pedro Pascal
Warnings: co-parenting, angst, ONE sext from Pedro Pascal (sorry)
MINORS DNI
I intended to have smut in every chapter but I wasn't sure how to incorporate it into this part ( other than Pedro's brief cameo via text lol). Hope you enjoy!
Y/N POV
5:30 am and the alarm goes off. You moan, rolling over to your nightstand to hit snooze for the fifth time so you could continue dreaming about the days you slept until noon. You would never be a morning person.
You hear the pitter-patter of your daughter's feet down the hallway, the sound coming closer to your bedroom.
"Morning mama!" Your cheerful daughter climbs on your bed and tackles you with a tight hug. "Ooof! Good morning my Bella Ella! You know? You have the best hugs in the entire universe". Your daughter chuckles and nestles in your lap. "I'm hungry, mama. I want bacon and eggs! Pleeease!" You smooth over Isabella's bed head. "One thing at a time, Mija. I need to go to the bathroom first. Go brush your teeth and meet me in the kitchen".
You splash water on your face and brush your teeth, thinking about what the rest of your day might look like. Today is drop off day. You hadn't seen or spoken to Chris since the argument and you were nervous about seeing him. Nervous about telling him your plan to introduce Isabella to Pedro. What if Chris opposes the idea? Do you ignore his opinion? Is it too soon to bring Pedro into Isabella's life?
Yesterday, your best friend Veyda came over to hangout with you and Bella. After putting your daughter to bed, you filled your friend in with everything, the argument with Chris, Pedro's declaration of love, and your spicy facetime session.
"Okay, before I get serious, I am low-key jealous of your problems. Your hot ex/baby daddy is jealous of your hot boyfriend". You playfully hit Veyda on her shoulder and laugh. " Oh my god, stop! There is nothing hot about co-parenting. Every decision about Isabella needs approval from both of us. I'm constantly worried that we're fucking her up. I can't even..." Veyda interrupts your rant "Y/N now you stop. You and Chris may have fucked up your relationship but you're not fucking up Isabella's life". You roll your eyes. "I wanted the relationship to work remember? He decided he needed someone whose ambitions didn't surpass his own". Veyda gives an apologetic look. "Y/N I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that. I know how much you wanted things to work out between you and Chris. He the sorry asshole who fucked up. Now his karma is you getting fucked up by Pedro".
"You're ridiculous".
Veyda smiles "I know. So, how do you think Chris will react to your plan of introducing Isabella to Pedro?" You learn back on your couch and stare at your ceiling. "I have no fucking idea but I am telling him tomorrow".
Chris POV
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The bright sun awakens Chris. "Shit"! Without checking the time, Chris knew he overslept. He runs to the bathroom, splashes water on his face and brushes his teeth. After spitting out the frothy toothpaste, he glances at his face in mirror. The bags under his eyes are puffy, his eyes red. He was up late drinking with friends, just like every other night this week.
Last Sunday, the day of your argument, Chris felt awful and didn't see a recovery in sight. The only thing that kept him going throughout the week was seeing Isabella again. Without the two of you, his home became a house and he hated being there alone, other than having Dodger around.
He glances at his phone and sees a text you sent 10 minutes ago "Good morning. We are on our way. Isa is excited". If being in a relationship taught Chris anything, it was to not interpret the tone of a text. However, the "good morning" and comment about Isa made Chris feel like you moved on from the argument. You were always the more reasonable and mature one. He gave a sigh of relief. Knowing he had practically no time to shower, Chris grabbed the nearest shirt and basketball shorts, put on some deodorant, and went downstairs.
A couple of minutes pass and he hears the doorbell ringing multiple times. That was Isa. Chris opens the door, "Baby girl! Ugh I missed you so much!" Chris bends down to scoop up his daughter, wrapping her in a bear hug. Isa giggles as her legs dangle. As soon as she is placed back on her feet, Isabella dashes out to the backyard to play with Dodger, leaving Chris and you in the foyer.
You smile. "She was talking about Dodger the entire ride." Chris smiles back, mostly out of gratitude that you broke the awkward silence . "I can't blame her. How was your week? You want some coffee?" You nodded. "That'd be great actually." You follow Chris in the kitchen, both of you watching your daughter play with the dog in the backyard. "Our week was great. A few meetings were cancelled so I got more time and —oh my god you should see this photo"! Chris was always stunned by your beauty and it was even more apparent when you were excited.
You hand Chris your phone to show him a picture of you and Isabella after she did your makeup causing Chris to nearly fall over from laughing so hard causing you to almost do the same. "Oh man I need to look at that again"! Chris holds up the picture, laughing hysterically until a text notification appears on your screen. It's from Pedro.
"I can't wait to see you tonight, mi amor. Gonna make sure you can't walk for a few days."
Chris' entire body stiffens as he continues to stare at your phone. Your laughing subsides when you see his demeanor change. "What's up?" You grab your phone, look at the screen, and quickly put in your coat pocket.
You are also silent but, once again, the mature one who breaks the tension. "Well I didn't mean to show you that"— Chris shakes out of his trance, " No no— I should've given your phone right away." Turning his body right then left, Chris decides to turn right and heads towards the coffee machine. "I have some extra to-go mugs. I can pour coffee for you in one so you can head out."
"I can drink a cup here unless you want me to go." Chris' heart sinks a bit unsure of how to respond. "I don't know, Y/N. How do you continue a conversation with your ex after reading a sext from their new boyfriend?"
You nod your head in agreement. "I don't really know Chris but I know that I don't want these days to always be awkward between us. Isabella deserves to see us get along with each other. She deserves to experience a normal family. Whatever that means."
"Yeah, you're right, Y/N". You felt this was the time to transition into your conversation about Pedro. Chris already got a snapshot of your intimate life with him. That has to be worse than Pedro joining you and Isabella for a pizza night. Right?
"Chris, I am happy to hear we want the same things for Isabella. She deserves to experience mother and father figures in her life." Smooth, Y/N.
Chris nods. "Absolutely. I know she gets that from my siblings and yours as well."
You give a smile as you inch closer to what you want to say. "And I think when you meet someone you want to commit to, they will hold the same values as we do in regards to family and raising Isabella." You're feeling confident in the way you angled it to help Chris see it from his perspective.
Then Chris tilts his head with a confused expression and your confidence begins to fade. "What do you mean when I commit to someone? I'm not seeing anyone and have no intentions to bring another woman around our daughter."
You start to chew on your lower lip. There was no way of backing out of this conversation. "But if you were in a relationship, I would be understanding and would trust your judgement on who you bring around Isabella." Your anxiety is increasing but you're determined to get to the point, however long that will take. Chris stares at you for what felt like hours, his blue eyes saddening. He watched you continue to bite your lower lip, a nervous tick you had when you were really stressed. He knew where you were trying to go but you were stalling. "Y/N, just say what you're trying to tell me".
"Well. Chris. I know you weren't happy to hear about me and Pedro. Again, he has NOT been around Isabella. He is always so respectful of our custody arrangement and I respect you as her father and I know you want the best for her just like I do and-" You didn't know what was happening but you started to feel your eyes fill with tears.
"Shit. Sorry. I don't know why I'm getting emotional."
Chris remains silent, arms crossed, and listening to you ramble. As much as he wanted to pull you into his arms and comfort you, he knew what he feared would happen is about to happen. He takes a deep breath.
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"You want Isabella to meet Pedro."
Chris didn't ask. He stated what was true. You wipe your tears. "Yes, I do. I love him, Chris. We're in love with each other. I want him to—"
"You don't need to elaborate, Y/N. I get it. You're happy". Chris' tone is slightly curt.
"I am happy. I want him to be a part of my life, including my time with Isabella". Your confidence is back.
Arms still crossed, Chris changes his focus from you to Isabella, who was now rolling in the ground with Dodger. He lets out a soft laugh as he watches daughter, refusing to let your declaration of love for Pedro cloud his role as a dad and his plan to have you back in his life. As much as your news made him want to punch a hole in the nearest wall, he knew if he had any chance in winning you back, he needed to be as cool and patience as possible.
"I want to meet him first". Chris' tone is calm. Almost neutral.
"What?" His gaze shifts back to you. "You heard me. I want to properly meet the new person that is going to be around my daughter. I don't know anything about him other than his apparent ability to render you paralyzed for a couple of days. I thought only I could do that to you." He gives you a smirk.
You couldn't help but blush at his comment. The text from Pedro made you slightly wet and now with this comment from Chris, you understood Veyda's envy of your hot guy drama.
"Okay great. Let me know a day and time that works for you. We can arrange for babysitter."
"Great. I'll check my calendar. Here is your coffee. Isa! Come say bye to your ma"!
You give her daughter a hug and kiss on the cheek. "Have fun with daddy, mija. My Bella Ella. I'll see you next week".
You turn towards Chris, "Thank you for the coffee and everything else. I'll touch base with you sometime during the week".
Chris gives you a nod and a soft smile.
"Drive safely, Y/N".
Thank-you for reading! If you'd like to continue on this fanfic journey with me, I'd be happy to tag you in future posts.
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cevansbrat0007 · 4 months
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Hi I love your ari fic, the sweet regenarde, just wondering if you are doing a next part after reader going to ari about her ex, like her explaining to ari about him and how he broke her heart?
Oh, Mason will be back very, very soon. And we're gonna do more than talk about how and why he broke Bird's heart. Because he's back, and he wants to do more than reminisce about old times with his high school sweetheart.
And to help folks understand, I need to go back and add some things to the Sweet Renengade Series' timeline. Which will probably happen after these next couple of fics.
Thanks!
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