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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.

“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!!

#chris evans x reader #ari levinson x reader #ari levinson #Chris evans #Steve rogers #Ari levinson smut #chris evans fanfiction #Ari drabble #mafia ex husband ari au #dark ari levinson

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imyourbratzdoll · 1 year

Text

𝐁𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐧 𝐅𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐲

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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onsunnyside · 1 year

Text

🍁≬ 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐓𝐢𝐦𝐞 (𝟏/𝟐)

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

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.

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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cevansbrat0007 · 3 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

Text

mama, it's cap | steve rogers

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

“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.

“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.

FILL IN THE BLANKS TAGLIST

@mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @evanswife1918 @moonshooter @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @haruvalentine4321 @hoodiesandicedcoffee @lilylovelyxo @marvelmenwhore

#steve rogers #steve rogers fic #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers angst #steve rogers au #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers fanfiction #chris evans #chris evans x reader #chris evans fic #chris evans angst #chris evans x you #steve rogers drabble #steve rogers exes au

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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

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

Taglist: @tis-thedamn-season @marveloustaylortot @peaches1958 @pono-pura-vida @thedarkplume @duuhrayliegh @rebekahdawkins @johndeaconshands @harrysthiccthighss @donutloverxo @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @sstan-hoe @randomagnes0210 @bambamwolf87 @whimsyplaty92 @feyfantome @buckysteveloki-me

#lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen x reader #ex!lloyd hansen #ex!lloyd hansen x reader #lloyd hansen fanfiction #lloyd hansen smut #the gray man #the gray man fanfiction #chris evans #chris evans characters #lloyd hansen x y/n #lloyd hansen x you #lloyd hansen fic #lloyd hansen x fem!reader

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toastedkiwi · 9 months

Text

Something like Henry Cavill x Ex-Fiancé!Reader but with Chris? Except she’s pregnant with another man’s baby when they get back together?

#chris evans x ex fiancé!reader #chris evans headcanon

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angywritesstuff · 2 years

Text

Social Media Au- Part 21 (Last Part!)

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><

THREE YEARS LATER

So guys, this is it… I don’t exclude I’m never gonna post about this family again but the story is finished

Taglist: @sesamepancakes @slytherinambitious @little-smurf @tanyaherondale @mytbel0st @freyathehuntress @high-on-darren-criss @wanniiieeee @winterberryfox @cucciolafaerie @sluttylesbian4you

#reader insert #no hate #rpf fanfic #rpf #actress!reader #chris evans x reader #social media au #chicago pd rpf #past chris evans x reader #exes to lovers #exes chris evans x reader #fake social media #fake social media au #chris evans imagine #chris evans x you #chris evans x y/n

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fatecantstopme · 1 year

Text

Fake It Til You Make It

Pairing: Chris Evans x reader

Summary: You’d just broken up with your boyfriend of 2 years after he cheated on you. Chris Evans, your best friend since childhood, suggests pretending to be your boyfriend to get back at your ex. You execute the plan flawlessly, but it has unintended consequences that threaten to change everything.

Warnings: RPF. Cursing. Fluff, angst, SMUT! Oral (F receiving), unprotected sex (P in V), dirty talk, over-stimulation.

"There is absolutely no way I'm going to this damn party."

"Aw, come on, (Y/N/N)," Chris chided. "It's Saturday night. What else are you gonna do?"

You sighed. "Sit in my pjs on the couch, watching a serial killer documentary, obviously."

Chris laughed and threw a dish towel at you. "As fantastic as that sounds, you're single now! You have to actually go outside and meet people."

You tossed the towel into the washer and grumbled, "What if I don't want to meet people?"

He rolled his eyes. "If you don't come, then I'll have no one to gossip with."

"As if I'm your only friend."

"You're my best friend, and as such, you have a very special role to fill. It's required."

You groaned, back leaning against the front of the washer. "Chris, I have nothing to wear." He was about to respond, but you continued. "Besides, he'll be there."

Chris's expression changed, anger darkening his features. "Who cares about him? He was never good enough for you anyway."

You crossed your arms over your chest. "You literally introduced us."

He threw up his hands. "Mistakes were made."

"I know it's been a couple months, but it's just...I don't know. I don't wanna see him. Especially if he's with one of the girls he cheated on me with."

"Even if he's there with an entire brothel, you can't let it bother you. You deserve so much more than that."

You sighed. "I know, I know. I just don't wanna go alone."

"You'll be with me!" he insisted.

You laughed. "Not exactly what I meant, Chris."

"Oh. So you'd rather go with some lesser man?" he teased.

"Oh stop," you said with a chuckle. "But seriously, he's gonna be there with a girl and I just don't wanna be the loser ex who shows up without a man on her arm."

"Since when do you care what other people think?"

"I don't...I just--" you sigh. "I wanna make him jealous."

Chris raised his eyebrows. "Well then...I have the perfect plan."

"Oh?"

"We go together."

"Yes, you already said that."

"No, you misunderstand," he said with a quick shake of his head. "You and I go together...make everyone believe we're dating. He'll be out of his mind with jealousy."

Normally you wouldn't have considered his suggestion...the deception just wasn't your style. But your ex had really fucked you over and you couldn't deny that getting back at him was very appealing. Especially using Chris...your ex always thought you and Chris were too close, that something was actually going on between the two of you.

"So we just pretend to be dating to piss him off?" you asked.

Chris nodded.

"Okay," you say. "Against my better judgment, I'm in."

He grinned ear to ear. "I'm brilliant, aren't I?"

You rolled your eyes. "Shut up and help me find something to wear."

He laughed and followed you to your bedroom closet. "There's gotta be something in here you can wear."

Your closet was packed with clothing, but you didn't really see anything that appealed to you. "Nothing looks good."

He rolled his eyes and grabbed a dress off the rack. "How 'bout this one?"

"Too trampy."

"This one?" he asked, pulling out a different dress.

"Too formal."

"Maybe this?"

"Doesn't fit right."

He groaned. "Then why do you have it?"

"Because it's cute and I'll get it altered at some point."

"Women are so weird," he grumbled as he dug through several more dresses before pulling out what he deemed to be the perfect one. "This has to be it."

You cocked your head to the side as you looked at the dress. It was cut just above the knee, jet black, form-fitting, and all around beautiful. Plus it did accentuate all of your assets. "Hmm. That might actually work," you said thoughtfully. "I'll throw it on, you go find shoes that'll go with it."

You walked back into your bedroom to change as Chris dug through your massive shoe collection in an attempt to find the perfect pair.

"Heels, right?" he called.

"Obviously," you yelled back.

"Black?"

"Just pick something sexy, Christopher! We're trying to make someone jealous here."

You heard him laugh and mumble something you couldn't quite make out. You shook your head as you started changing. Chris had been your best friend since you were little kids...you'd known each other so long neither of you actually remembered meeting. Even after he became a famous actor, who he was never changed. He never pulled away from you or made you feel inferior. He never stopped being the person you loved, your best friend in the world, your solid rock. You were more thankful for him than you would ever admit to his face...mostly because he would tease you relentlessly for it for the rest of your lives.

You'd managed to get the dress on, but you needed help with the zipper, so you called for Chris to come help you.

"Whatcha need?"

"Zip this for me?" you asked, turning your back to him.

He froze for a moment, but recovered quickly, thankful you hadn't seen his reaction. He quickly crossed the room and slowly zipped your dress up, trying very hard to not linger against your skin.

"Thanks," you said warmly, completely oblivious to the change in his demeanor. "Did you find a pair of shoes?"

The question brought him back to the present, eyes shifting back towards the closet. "I found two that could work."

You picked one of the pairs of shoes and finished getting ready. Chris needed to change his clothes before heading to the party, so he drove both of you back to his place so you could arrive together. He was quick to change into a laidback black suit with a white button up, top buttons undone and the sleeves rolled up. Even you had to admit he looked damn good.

"Ready, buttercup?" he asked teasingly.

"Oh god, please come up with a different pet name."

He slipped his arm through yours and dragged you towards the door. "How 'bout 'snookums'?"

The look on your face told him exactly what you thought about that particular name.

"Okay, okay. Maybe 'peach'?"

"I'm not a fruit, Christopher."

"Oh come on, that one's sweet!"

"Was that a pun?" you teased.

"Wait, I've got it. Sweets?"

You paused for a moment, mulling it over. "That one can stay."

"Brilliant. But fair warning, I'm totally gonna squeeze a "googely bear" in there at least once."

"Isn't that from Monster's Inc.?"

He grinned. "Yup and I have no shame, smoochie poo."

You groaned. "God, you're the worst."

He gave you the biggest shit-eating-grin you'd ever seen. "You love me and you know it."

You laughed. "Yeah, yeah."

Chris opened the car door for you and helped you into the vehicle. As he was walking around to the other side, you thought about what you were about to do. You knew this could end very badly in more ways than one, but for some reason, you were positive it was worth it.

**********

When you arrived at the party, people immediately took notice that the two of you arrived together. Most people made the obvious assumption: you were best friends and both single...so why not just go together?

But some people's gazes lingered longer, whispers passed amongst each other, the gossip mill already flowing.

"Damn they move quickly," you mumbled.

Chris chuckled. "Welcome to Hollywood."

You knew he wasn't wrong. While you weren't famous, you'd been dating a celebrity for the past two years. Plus, Chris was always dragging you to movie premieres and red carpet events, so people knew who you were by association. As such, you were no stranger to the rumors and the gossipmongers.

Chris spoke softly, leaning into you so only you could hear. "How far do you wanna take this?"

"What do you mean?" you whispered back.

"Do I make out with you in a corner or just hold your hand like high schoolers?"

You laughed lightly. "Let's just play it by ear, you weirdo."

He grinned. "So that's a yes to the make out?"

You smacked his arm affectionately.

"I think that's considered domestic abuse."

You were about to respond to his joke, but a deep voice from behind you sent a chill down your spine, silencing you instantly.

"(Y/N), Evans. Surprised to see you here."

You turned around slowly, Chris directly beside you. "Andrew," you said, trying desperately to sound normal.

"Why so surprised?" Chris asked in his best 'fuck off' voice.

"Well, (Y/N) hasn't exactly been a socialite in the last few months. I assumed she wouldn't want to show up to a party like this."

"I'm literally right here, Andrew," you said, annoyed.

"Yes, I see you, (Y/N)," he replied, turning his attention back to Chris. "How'd she coerce you into bringing her?"

Chris looked surprised, but his expression quickly changed to anger. "She's my best friend. She'd never have to coerce me." He turned to you with a smile. "Besides, we're together now, so you'll see us out together a lot more often."

You returned his smile and stood on your tip toes to place a soft kiss to his lips, which he returned in kind.

You could feel the annoyance and anger rolling off your ex in thick waves. "You were fucking him behind my back weren't you? I fucking knew it, you slut," he hissed.

You felt Chris's body tense and knew he was about to take a swing, so you grabbed his arm and did your best to cut the fight off before it started. "No, Andrew. Unlike you, I know how to keep it in my pants."

A couple people had gathered close to the three of you to eavesdrop on your conversation. Several "Ooo"s and an "oh damn" came from the group.

Andrew's jaw tightened and he clearly wanted to say more, but thought better of it when he noticed the group of onlookers quickly enlarging.

Chris, however, wasn't quite finished with the conversation. He leaned forward, face a mask of unreadable emotion, and said firmly, "If you ever call my girl a slut again, I promise you'll regret it."

Even if you hadn't known the man your entire life, you would have known he was deadly serious. Every single one of his words dripped with animosity and his eyes burned with an intensity you had rarely seen. To your surprise, the way he called you his girl had your body reacting in a way you didn't expect.

You gently pulled on Chris's arm, dragging him with you and away from the conversation, no longer wanting to talk to the man you used to love. "Let it go, Chris," you said softly. "He's not worth it."

"You're right," he murmured, eyes still burning like the sun.

You managed to get him to follow you into another room before turning to him to inspect his expression. He was fiercely protective by nature, but you didn't want him to feel like he needed to protect you. You could still feel the remnants of his temper festering beneath his skin, so you gently pressed your hand to his chest, bringing his attention back to you.

"As much as I appreciate you defending my honor, you don't have to," you said gently.

"Of course I do."

You smiled softly. "You and I both know that's not true, but I appreciate it nonetheless. There's no need to hold onto your anger, though."

He realized you were right, your hand pressed firmly against his chest somehow grounding him. He took a deep breath and placed his hand on top of yours, giving it a little squeeze. "You're right," he admitted. "Thanks for keeping me from punching him right in his smug face."

You chuckled. "As much as I would have loved to see that, I figured it wouldn't be good with so many witnesses."

"Smart," he said with a wink. "Now that we've made it clear we're together, I think we'll need to up our acting a bit...ensure he knows how badly he fucked up by losing you."

"And how exactly do you propose we do that?"

He grinned. "I've got some ideas." He grabbed your hand and started to pull you towards the main room of the party. "Step one, we dance."

You groaned as he dragged you onto the dance floor. "You know I can't dance."

"That's not true. You have excellent rhythm. You just need to get out of your head for a second and let the music guide you."

You stared at him in silence, but finally succumbed to his silent pleas. "Fine. You can put the puppy dog eyes away now," you teased.

He shot you another wink. "Works every time."

"I hate you," you grumbled as you allowed him to pull you closer.

"No you don't." He started to move to the music, hands traveling down to sit on your hips.

Your cheeks burned and your body reacted to his touch in a way it hadn't in a long time. You'd thought those feelings were long-since buried, but the way he was looking at you brought everything you'd ever felt for him back with a vengeance.

"You're right, I don't," you whispered.

"I know, baby girl," he said softly. "Now, dance with me."

You tried to ignore the feeling in your stomach when he called you 'baby girl', choosing instead to focus on the beat of the music. Your hips started to move, his hands helping to guide you in time with his own movements.

"See? I told you you could dance."

The song ended and switched to something a lot more sensual and your body immediately froze. "Not to this I can't," you insisted.

Chris laughed and quickly spun you around before pulling you against his chest. "I'll teach you," he murmured against the skin of your shoulder.

You didn't know if it was the song, his voice, or the way his arms wrapped around you, but your body responded to him instantly. Your breath caught in your chest and wetness pooled between your thighs as Chris moved behind you in a shockingly sexual manner. Your normally stiff body loosened up in his grasp, moving to the rhythm he set.

"Perfect," he whispered breathily.

You moved with him, body acting of its own accord. You looked up, gaze landing on Andrew, who stood fuming on the other side of the room.

Chris seemed to notice him at the same time. "You see how angry he is, sweets?" he said softly.

"Mhmm," you hummed.

"Keep staring directly at him, okay? Keep your eyes on him as you move."

You did as he said, eyes never leaving your ex's, even as Chris's hands began to wander, moving around your body in the way only a lover's would. His lips placed soft kisses to your shoulder, neck, and ear, hot breath leaving a trail of goosebumps in his wake.

You couldn't help the reaction you had to his touch, it was as if your body was no longer your own. It was obvious to anyone who bothered to pay attention that you were aroused, and Andrew was definitely paying attention. You could see his anger from across the room, but more importantly, you could see jealousy in his eyes.

You'd gotten what you wanted. You'd made him jealous. For some reason, however, you couldn't find it in yourself to care. The plan had succeeded, but it had also had unintended consequences. You didn't give a shit about Andrew...all you wanted was Chris.

The only problem was, Chris was an actor. Every single tiny thing he was doing was an act designed specifically to elicit a reaction from Andrew. He didn't want you, he never had. You'd always known that, so you had always been careful to hide your feelings from him, pushing them down so deep inside of you that you'd almost forgotten they'd existed...almost.

With that painful realization, your brain overpowered your body, allowing you to pull away from Chris. You turned to him without making eye contact and mumbled a quick excuse about having to use the restroom before bolting from the dance floor.

Chris was very surprised by your sudden escape and he quickly chased after you, calling your name.

You found the nearest bathroom and rushed into it, slamming the door behind you with force. Your preoccupied mind neglected to remind you to lock the damn door, so Chris came barging through moments later. His brain, on the other hand, appeared to be functioning just fine as he locked the door behind him.

"Why'd you run off?" he asked gently.

You shook your head, eyes looking anywhere but at him. The bathroom was small...there was nowhere to go, no escape. You were trapped in this tiny room with the man you'd loved your entire life and you suddenly felt like you couldn't breathe. The walls began to move in, within moments they would crush you to death and this pain would be over.

In the same way you knew Chris like the back of your hand, he knew you, so he could see the distress you were in. He grabbed your hand and squeezed it tightly, a reminder that he was there. "(Y/N), you need to breathe."

This wasn't the first panic attack he'd witnessed you have, but it had been several years since you'd had one this bad. "(Y/N/N), breathe for me. Come on," he said again, voice gentle but firm. "In, 2, 3, 4. Out, 2, 3, 4."

He continued breathing and counting as you began to breathe with him, heart rate slowly coming back down, body relaxing, his warm hands grounding you to him.

"That's it. Good." He took another deep breath. "I've got you, (Y/N/N). You're okay."

You took a shaky breath and closed your eyes, the panic subsiding. "I'm sorry," you whispered.

"Hey," he said softly, reaching up to tuck a hair behind your ear. "You don't have to apologize. I just wanna know what caused it."

You didn't want to tell him the truth, so you said the first lie you could think of, "Andrew."

He looked taken aback, almost hurt, by your statement. "Andrew?"

You realized that may have been a big mistake, but it was too late now. "Yeah, I just--it's hard to see him."

Chris looked crestfallen. "You still love him, don't you." It was a statement, not a question.

In truth, you didn't love him. Perhaps you never really had, but that didn't matter now. What mattered is whether or not you were going to choose to break your own heart. "Chris, I--"

"Never mind," he said, cutting you off. "I don't wanna know." He spun around and unlocked the door, storming out before you could say another word.

"Chris, wait," you called as you chased after him.

He moved through the crowd quickly, cutting through the throngs of people like he was parting the red sea. He moved so fast that you actually stopped and took off your heels so you could run to catch up with him.

He made it outside before you finally caught up. "Chris, wait! Please!"

He stopped and turned towards you. You caught a glimpse of a mixture of anger and pain etched onto his face for just a split second before an emotionless mask slid into place, his acting instincts taking over. "What, (Y/N)?"

The coldness in his voice stopped you in your tracks. It was almost enough to make you stay silent, maybe even walk away, but you'd made a decision in that bathroom and you'd be damned if you backed out now. "You didn't let me finish."

"Finish?"

"Answering your question."

He couldn't help the look of intrigue that crossed his face even if he'd wanted to. "Go on, then."

"When we were in high school, I--I made a decision--a choice--to protect myself."

"How is this an answer to my question?"

"Would you just shut up and listen to me?" you snapped.

Surprise lit up his handsome face, along with the ghost of a smirk. He always loved it when you stood up for yourself, even if it was against him. "Okay, I'll be quiet."

"Thank you," you exhaled slowly. "I wanted to protect myself from pain, or heartache, or whatever you wanna call it. I pushed every emotion, every feeling, so deep down inside of me that, for a time, I forgot they were there. It was safer that way. I could go on pretending, and we could go on being best friends. It was worth the pain."

You could see the confusion on his face, and realized you needed to be more straightforward. Before you could, he interjected again. "I don't understand. What were you pretending?"

You closed your eyes for a moment, picturing the girl you were at 16 when you realized you were in love with your best friend. You knew it had been the right choice for you at the time, but it hadn't been easy. You opened your eyes again, gaze falling on that same man, now all grown up. You couldn't help the tears that welled in your eyes nor the ache that blossomed in your chest, the years of bottling up your emotions finally taking its toll.

"I pretended I didn't love you, and I've been pretending ever since."

Whatever he thought you were going to say, it sure as hell wasn't that. His jaw went slack and his eyes widened, body completely frozen in place. He recovered quickly, but the shock of your words was still evident on his face. "You--you love me?"

You nodded. "Since I was old enough to understand the concept."

He ran his hand through his hair. "Why the hell didn't you tell me?"

You were surprised by the annoyance in his voice. "Well, I--I umm...I didn't want to lose you."

He looked exasperated. "(Y/N), you're telling me we could have been together for years, but you didn't want to tell me how you felt because you thought I would leave you?"

You were stunned silent, so he kept going.

"I've had to watch you date so many men that weren't good enough for you--for years--because I thought you didn't feel the way I do. You never once let on that you wanted more--not once."

"So..." you began, trying to find the right words. "Are you saying that you love me too?"

Chris seemed to realize what he'd essentially just admitted, and immediately calmed down, eyes softening significantly. "Yeah, sweets. I've loved you my entire life."

For a moment, the world stood still. The two of you stood there in silence, staring at each other, the shock of your admissions still sinking in.

Then, just as quickly, you both came alive, bodies coming together, lips colliding in a passionate, searing kiss that would live on in your memories forever.

When you separated, breathless, your brain finally caught up with what was happening. You held onto his neck, almost afraid to let go.

As if he sensed what you were thinking, he pulled you even closer. "I'm not going anywhere, baby."

You looked up at him, eyes swimming with emotion that matched his own. "Will you take me home?"

"That depends...whose home are we going to?"

"We?" you asked in a teasing tone. "Isn't that a little presumptuous of you?"

"We just admitted we've been in love with each other since we were kids. I'm pretty sure that means we have a solid 15 years of missed sex to make up for."

You laughed lightly. "As crass as that was, I actually agree with you." You pulled him down for another kiss. "Your place is nicer than mine."

He grinned. "You've got it sweets."

He practically dragged you back to his car, body in overdrive, the need for you so overwhelming he could barely think. Your own desire was so intense you were quite certain you were going to die if he didn't touch you immediately.

Your friendship had always been an open one...which meant both of you had shared your fantasies (most of them, anyway), as well as your sexual escapades. You both knew what the other person liked...so you were both confident the sex you were about to have was going to be mind-blowing...and boy, were you right.

**********

"Chris!" you gasped loudly.

The man in question simply moaned in response, not moving from his position between your thighs, tongue and fingers assaulting your pussy in the most pleasurable way possible.

Your fingers dug into his thick locks, tugging slightly as the pleasure continued to build within you. You weren't surprised by his skill, but you were surprised at how he played your body like an instrument he'd been playing all his life. Every touch, every movement, every sound, sent waves of passionate fire flying through your veins.

When you came for the second time, you tugged at his hair with more force, body squirming from sensitivity. "Too much," you whispered.

Chris finally relented, lifting his head up to look at you, grin etched on his handsome face. His beard was coated with your slick and he licked his lips with a moan. "Sorry, baby. You just taste so damn good."

You laughed lightly, breathing still heavy from the intensity of your orgasms. "If you're a good boy, I'll let you taste me again later," you teased.

Chris laughed and crawled up your body, pressing his lips to yours in an adoring kiss. Whether he intended to or not, as he leaned forward his cock pressed against the entrance to your core, eliciting a gasp from each of you.

"Fuck," Chris groaned. "Baby, I don't think I can wait much longer."

You reached up and pushed his hair back, the tousled locks having fallen onto his forehead. "Who said anything about waiting?"

His lips fell against your neck as he started to push into you. You gasped at the feeling, his large cock already stretching you more than you'd ever been stretched. Your nails dug into his shoulders and he groaned against your skin.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I know it hurts."

"It's fine," you murmured. "Please don't stop."

He raised his head to look into your eyes, worried that you didn't mean it. When he saw no reservations and nothing but lust, he continued to press into you, moving a little more quickly this time.

Once he was fully seated within you, he gave you a moment to acclimate to his size. You swore you could feel him everywhere, every part of your body was completely filled with him. The sensation quickly turned to a burning need and you begged him to fuck you.

"Anything for you, baby girl," he murmured as he began to move.

If his neighbors hadn't already been awoken by the sounds of your moans, they would be now. You'd never felt so good in your life, the way his body meshed with yours was as if they'd been created for this specific purpose.

"That's it, baby. Let me hear those pretty moans."

"Chris--it--it feels so good," you moaned loudly.

He moaned as your pussy clenched around him. "Fuck, sweets. This sweet little pussy was made for me. So tight and warm."

He leaned back, tilting your hips up to give himself a better angle. He began hitting your g-spot with each thrust, and you cried out in pleasure, fingers digging into his biceps. "Chris!"

He placed his hand on your lower belly and pressed gently. "You feel that baby? You feel how deep inside you I am?"

You whimpered in response, voice reduced to nothing but sounds.

"Aww, is my sweet girl too cock drunk to talk?" He began circling your clit with his thumb as he taunted you. "Pretty little thing turned dumb by a big cock."

"Please," you begged, not sure what you were begging for exactly.

Chris smiled, movements never faltering. "Yeah baby? What you begging for?"

You didn't respond--couldn't--whimpering moans and heavy pants all you could manage.

"I know what you need, sweets," he whispered, thumb speeding up against your clit, keeping time with the rhythm of his hips. "You need to come, don't you?"

You nodded vigorously and you dug your nails more deeply into his biceps.

He groaned at the sensation, his own orgasm mere moments away. "Then come for me, pretty girl. Soak my cock."

As if all your body was waiting for was his command, you came with a cry of his name. Your hips jerked up, body spasming beneath him as he helped you ride out your high.

Your pussy was pulsating, clenching and releasing his cock rapidly, quickly pulling him towards the edge. "Fuck, baby, I'm close," he gasped.

He was thrusting more quickly now, chasing his high. He wanted to fill you up, needed it more than he'd ever needed anything.

You knew him better than you knew yourself, so you knew exactly what he needed to get him over the edge. "Chris," you murmured. "I need you to fill me up." You clenched your pussy as tightly as you could to punctuate your words.

Chris came with a shout, hips jerking wildly as he spilled inside of you. "(Y/N)," he gasped, hips faltering, and slowly coming to a stop as he pulled out of you, collapsing beside you with a groan.

"Holy shit," he whispered.

You laughed loudly. "My thoughts exactly."

He grinned. "I always could read your mind."

You turned your head to look at him, taking in his love drunk appearance. Somehow, he was even sexier like this, completely fucked out and satiated. You could have stared at him for hours.

"You're staring. It's kinda creepy," he teased.

You laughed. "Oh shut up. It's not my fault you're so pretty."

He groaned. "Did you just call me pretty?"

"I did and I will not take it back."

He rolled on top of you, covering your body with his. "You better take it back," he warned.

"Or what?" you challenged.

He didn't say a word, choosing instead to kiss your neck, mouth sucking and biting at your most sensitive spot. He knew exactly what it would do to you and he wasn't disappointed.

"Chris," you whispered.

He grinned against your skin, ignoring your warning tone. "Are you gonna take it back?"

"Nope."

He moved with the speed and agility of a panther, settling between your legs before you could even register what was happening. His lips were mere inches from your core, his hot breath making your body shiver.

"What are you doing?"

"Giving you one last chance to take it back."

"And if I don't?"

He grinned like a Cheshire cat. "If you don't, then I'll make you come until you cry. The choice is yours."

Your eyes widened in surprise, and maybe a little bit of desire. You weighed your options, but you were too damn stubborn to take it back. "Try me," you challenged again.

"Oh, baby...you're gonna regret that."

He dove into your pussy with the hunger of a wild animal, completely unleashed, unable to stop himself from enjoying your delicious taste. He didn't stop until he saw tears sliding down your pretty face, and even then, he made you give him one more orgasm.

Once he was done with your 'punishment', he carried you to the shower where he gently washed you before taking you back to his bed and laying you down beneath the covers.

He crawled in beside you and pulled you close, lips pressing soft kisses to any skin he could see.

"Thanks for tonight," you said softly.

"For what?"

"Ya know...for everything."

He understood what you were trying to say, a small smile playing on his lips. "I love you, (Y/N)," he whispered.

Those four words said so much more than just 'I love you'. There were promises, hopes, and dreams all wrapped up in a beautiful bow. There were years of things left unsaid, feelings and emotions hidden beneath the surface. And of course, there was the true meaning of the word 'love', a word neither of you had really understood before this moment.

"I love you too, Chris," you whispered back, your own words laced with the promise of tomorrow and forever.

#chris evans x reader #chris evans x reader smut #chris evans smut #rpf fic #chris evans fic #chris evans x best friend!reader #chris evans RPF

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imyourbratzdoll · 1 year

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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.

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.

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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freedomfireflies · 2 years

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Masterlist!

Series:

~ Teach Me* | BestFriend!Harry

Harry needs a little practice in the art of Eating Pussy, and who better to ask for help than his best friend? You.

~ Mine* | MafiaBoss!Harry

Your mafia boss boyfriend, Harry, has been a little neglectful of his most prized possession. But he's found the perfect way to make it right.

~ One for the Money* | CEO!Harry

Working as an assistant for the CEO of a large corporation doesn't always pay the bills. So, you've turned to OnlyFans in an attempt to rake in a little extra cash. Unbeknownst to you...your boss, Harry Styles, is an avid subscriber.

~ 404* | Nerd!Harry

The one where you and Harry are software engineers on a project for Juno Inc. And you can’t fucking stand each other.

~ Knockout* | Boxer!Harry

The one where Harry is a handsome stranger who always comes to your diner covered in bruises.

~ Infinite You* | Open Relationship!Harry

The one where Harry is in an open relationship with your best friend, and maybe you have more in common than you realized.

~ iFall for Harry* | Famous!Harry

You text an unknown number, hoping it to be the guy you met at the bar. The man that answers instead seems to be quite the upgrade.

~ Mr. & Mrs. Hey Soul Sister* | Famous!Harry

You and Harry wake up after a wild, drunken night to find out you’re more than strangers. You’re married.

~ Rumours* | Harry Styles x Reader

One-Shots inspired by Harry Styles and Fleetwood Mac songs. A story about a couple finding their way through a devastating break-up.

One-Shots:

~ Jack Shit* (Pt. 2* | Pt. 3*)

In which Jack Chambers is not a selfish, egotistical man-child with raging control issues that apparently wants to climb into Alice's womb like she's his mommy, but instead just a regular guy with a different set of control issues.

~ The Angel and the Fae | (angel!harry)

The one where Harry is an angel that falls in love with a garden fairy. And even the heavens can't keep you apart.

~ Stuck with You* | (enemies!harry)

You and Harry have been assigned to a case halfway across the country. And getting stuck for over twelve hours in a car with him is nothing short of excruciating. But having to share a bed with him? A fate worse than death. (aka: enemies to lovers + one bed trope!)

~ Bite Me* | (vampire!harry)

The one where your boyfriend, Harry, is a vampire. And you wish you could feel what he felt.

~ Overdrive* | (street racer!harry)

The one where it’s 1969 and Harry likes to drive really, really fast.

~ Teenage Dirtbag* | (frat!harry)

The one where Harry's popular, cool, and everything you aren't. And maybe you want to keep him your dirty, little secret.

~ Pillow Talk* | (ex!harry)

The one where you and Harry both have insomnia, and decide to spend one very strange night together.

Blurbs:

~ Blurb Masterlist

Collection of blurbs and drabbles for Harry Styles, Dylan O'Brien, and Chris Evans

Credit for the amazing dividers to @firefly-graphics

#dylan o'brien #dylan o'brien imagine #dylan o'brien fanfiction #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #hayden christensen fanfiction #hayden christensen imagine #stiles stilinski #void stiles #void colin #masterlist #one shot #imagines #harry styles smut #dylan o'brien smut #stiles stilinski smut #smut

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cevansbrat0007 · 5 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!

#cevansbrat0007 asks #cevansbrat0007 sweet renegade series #chris evans imagines #ari levinson imagines #chris evans fanfiction #ari levinson fanfiction #chris evans x reader #ari levinson x reader #chris evans x black!reader #ari levinson x black!reader #chris evans x woc!reader #ari levinson x woc!reader #chris evans x girlfriend!reader #ari levinson x girlfriend!reader #mason prescott #case of the ex #cevansbrat0007 fics

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lexisecretaccx · 1 month

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High School Sweethearts pt.3 -Chris Sturniolo

PT1, PT2, PT4, PT5, PT6, PT7, PT8, PT9, PT10, (rest of the parts on my Masterlist)

(Fem reader x Chris sturniolo, slight angst, Tw: Evan💀, not sure what else.)

A/n: thought I’d TW Evan bc he’s an asshole😂, you will know that even more as the story progresses:( also sorry if my parts are pretty short, let me know if y’all would be happy with longer parts! But 2 parts in a day is wilding lol.

“What.. why?” I laugh awkwardly and envy crosses over his face. “It doesn’t matter y/n.” He turns down a corridor and I follow. “I don’t understand why you’re being like this?” I say timidly, I don’t know what I had done to make him act like this, we literally became friends yesterday.

He stops in his tracks to face me. I smile softly but it slips when I notice the angry glare in his eyes, “don’t act like you weren’t all over my brother in there!” He spoke with a bitterness in his voice, my face shifts to that of shock due to the accusation, “What? I went to study and he was in there so I sat with him,” Chris scoffs and leans against the wall, “I wanted to know if he was okay after falling over, is that a crime now?” I snap.

The problem with me is when I get angry I cry or get upset. Or if I’m getting shouted at, it’s due to past experiences. “Okay then,” he pushes himself off the wall and looks down at me “so his arm being around you is just in a nice way, you two laughing is you ‘checking up on him’ is it?” He hisses and leans down to my level.

“He was pointing at my page because he told me the answer and we were laughing because it was the wrong answer,” I speak in a brittle voice, “I don’t know why I have to explain myself to you we aren’t dating.” I take a deep breath in to try and keep myself from crying, “I don’t like him like that chris.” I whisper as my eyes well with tears before walking away.

“Wait..” he sighs and I turn around, a single tear falling from my eye. “I’m sorry.” He pinched the bridge of his nose, “it’s just, I can’t help but get angry because my ex girlfriend cheated on me and,” he walks over to me “I know we aren’t dating but..” Footsteps echoed from behind us and we both turn to see Nick, Nate, Evan and the other boy who I don’t know.

My stomach drops as I lock eyes with Evan. “No fucking way.” He spoke before trying to walk closer to me, I step back and he stops in his tracks, “still as frigid as usual I take it.” He laughs and looks around for his friend’s reactions but they don’t do anything, instead they are focused on me and Chris.

“What’s going on here?” Nate motions between me and Chris, “wait you dated my boy Evan right?” Nate asks, his attention fully on me as I nod softly. “Step back.” Chris mutters to Evan, who was getting a bit too close. Evan raises his palms and he smirks at me.

“You tryna get with Evans girl?” The other boy who I don’t know the name of spoke. “No we’re just friends.” Chris fake smiles before it falters, “then why the fuck does she look sad?” Evan spoke in a concerned tone, which of course wasn’t real.

“Can you not get into other people’s business.. for once?” I say, Evan tilts his head to me and opens his mouth slightly as his eyes narrow, he goes to say something before.. “Leave it.” Nick spoke in a tough voice to Evan and Evan just scoffs and walks away.

I can’t help but feel a sense of victory even though I didn’t say much. The other boy follows Evan so it’s just me, Chris, Nick and Nate. “So.. what’s going on here.” Nate repeats himself. “She was studying in the library and I went in there and saw her and now we’re out here, that’s all.” Chris looks back at me and smiles before returning his gaze to the boys.

“Sure whatever, where’s Matt?” Nick asks, looking at me this time. “I saw him in the library so probably still in there.” I shrug. “Okay, nice to meet you.” Nick smiles at me and walks to the library. “We have like half hour till school starts, we should go back outside.” Nate speaks to Chris, completely ignoring my presence.

“I’d rather not, you can go meet Evan again I think I’m gonna help y/n.” Chris replied “help her with what?” Nate looks to me and back at Chris. “It’s a personal thing for her.” Chris lies. “Sure okay.” Nate rolls his eyes before heading down the hallway the same way Evan went.

“I’m sorry about them, and Evan.” Chris turns to me and runs his hand through his hair. “And I’m sorry for earlier and overreacting, and making you cry and speaking to you in that way. I know we aren’t dating but I shouldn’t have reacted like that, even if you and Matt were..” I interrupted him by placing a finger over his lips, leaning up and kissing him on the cheek softly.

“Woah.” He looks at me for a moment before saying, “so there’s definitely nothing going on with you and Matt then or?” I roll my eyes and laugh. “No of course not.” He lets out a sigh of relief, “what about us?” He asks hopefully, “we barely know eachother Chris,” I move a strand of hair out of my face “maybe take me on a date or something and see what happens.” I smirk up at him.

His eyes widen and he smiles back, “really?” He whispers as a group of people walk past. I nod and look at the clock. “I’m gonna head to my next class but I’ll see you somewhere.”

“Maybe in detention again.” Chris teased. I roll my eyes and laugh before I walk away, and I feel Chris’ eyes following me. I turn down a less crowded corridor.

“Hey..” I hear someone speak from next to me, I flinch and turn to my side as my face turns cold.

A/n: Bro Chris is a drama queen. I don’t know if this is any good but thanku to the people supporting this series! That’s the only reason I’m continuing with this🫶 also Chris is a cutie patootie, he’s been thru some breakups y’all don’t hate him😭

Taglist: @blahbel668 @mattsleftnipple03 @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @hysteria-things @sturniologurl4l2008 @jakevwebber @braindead4l @mattybearnard @st7rnioioss @junnniiieee07 @cind2224 @annelouise321 (I’m so sorry both of y’all idk why it won’t let me tag u☹️) @sturniolosmind

—💋——📷——‼️——💌———❤️———💌——‼️——📷——💋—

#sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #sturniolo #chris sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo smut #sturniolos #matt #smut #chris sturniolo fanfic

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