#i haven't seen the trends in the past few days apart from today as i haven't been around much and these recent trends tend to appear | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

missyandwade · 10 months ago

Text

From Across the Hallway - Chapter 3

When Missy moves in across the hallway with her two-year old daughter Emily, into what is definitely NOT the best neighborhood, perhaps Wade Wilson can be there for them to brighten their world, and keep an eye out for them when they need it most… Hurt/Comfort/Friendship/Family, and perhaps a little something more… Wade/Missy alternate universe fic. Wade/OC

---

Missy's week had been anything but easy…each and every day Missy had gone to work, with the whispers still floating around the office…

And on top of that, Emily had been as quiet as ever…

She wasn't a fussy little girl and rarely cried, but she was as shy as anything and Missy could tell she was upset by the fact she had gotten more and more subdued and silent as they days had progressed. This past week, being away from Missy and having to deal with the loud noises and unfamiliar faces at the crèche, it was hurting her, Missy could easily see that.

But right now it was their only choice… Missy couldn't afford not to work and having a crèche in her office block was a massive saving grace for her. There wasn't many workplaces where she would be that lucky.

But today it was Friday and Missy and Emily were looking forward to the entire weekend, just the two of them.

But the moment they had arrived back at 4.30pm, after taking a detour through the ever-darkening park on the way home, their afternoon had descended into chaos.

They had opened the front door, only to find that that their power was out and by the looks of it, had been for the majority of the day. This meant that the entire apartment was freezing cold and now plunged into darkness.

"No, no, no…" uttered Missy under her breath, flipping the light on and off as Emily stuck by her heels, looking up at her Mom a little worriedly.

"Itsh dark," muttered the little girl, slurring her words slightly, which wasn't uncommon for her.

Missy stroked the top of Emily's head stepping further into the room, the only light, currently coming from the lit-hallway behind them, through the open door.

"I know sweetie, Mommy thought she'd paid the bill on Tuesday," she said matter-of-factly, pulling her cell phone from her purse, the bright light from the device illuminating her face.

She checked her bank account quickly.

Crap, the money hadn't gone out. She know she'd SEEN the bill, but with everything going on at the moment, she had obviously forgotten to pay it.

At her side, Emily clutched at her leg.

"It's ok, Mommy will fix it," said Missy biting her lip.

God, it was freezing in here. It was late November and a chill had crept over the city over the past few weeks, with the temperature having dropped dramatically, right in time for their move.

Missy hurriedly strode across the room, searching over her box-strewn living room for the pile of letters and bills she knew was around there somewhere.

But it was dark and impossible to see a thing, even with the light from her phone.

Oh could this day get any worse?!

"Is living in the dark a new trend I haven't quite caught onto yet?" came a sudden voice from behind her.

Oh it definitely could get worse…

She turned to see Wade standing in the hallway, leaning up against her doorframe, arms folded, staring into the gloomy apartment, a big grin across his face.

Missy gave an irritated huff.

"I forgot to pay the bill, ok?" she snapped, before she could stop herself.

Why was she even having to explain herself to him anyway?

Emily looked behind her, obviously wondering who Missy was talking to, her green eyes staring suddenly up at Wade.

"Hiya Em," he said his voice sweet. "It's kinda dark in here, huh?"

The tiny girl gave a nod and waved at him suddenly with her chubby hand.

Wade beamed.

Missy gave a sigh, spinning around on the spot, checking the space around her for the bills. But beneath the piles of cardboard boxes and Emily's toys it was impossible to see anything.

"I've got a flashlight, if you want to borrow one?" offered Wade.

She could from his tone that he was smirking.

Missy gritted her teeth.

"No thanks!" she said in a high-pitched voice. "I'm fine, I-"

But before she could utter another word, Missy had tripped over a pile of boxes and come crashing down onto the hardwood floor with a bump.

Emily let out a squeak of fright.

In a flash, Wade had strode across the room, closing the gap between them, clutching a hand beneath her arm.

"Up you get, Ms Clumsy," he said in a mocking tone, which Missy did not appreciate one little bit.

She snatched her arm away from him.

"I can get up myself, thank you very much," she snarled, clambering to her feet with great difficulty on her sky-high-heels.

She heard Wade at her side let out a chuckle, as he walked back over to where Emily was still stood, just a couple of feet inside the room.

He crouched down in front of the little girl, smiling.

"Now your mommy is an independent lady," said Wade with a nod. "…and you know what? That's my favourite kind of lady…"

Emily just gaped at him for a long moment, before looking down at the floor shyly and turning around on the spot.

"She's shy…" offered Missy, suddenly gazing over at them. "She doesn't really interact with others all that well."

Wade looked around at Missy.

"She interacts with you…" he said blinking.

Missy glanced down at the floor momentarily before looking up at Wade once again.

"That's because I know how to talk to her…a lot of people, they find out that she's hard of hearing, and they just yell at her, thinking that will solve all the problems…but it just makes things worse…she hates loud noises.." Missy gave an inward sigh. "She's fine if you just talk slowly to her and make eye contact…like you should with any normal child…"

Wade paused for a second, his brown eyes roving over Missy's face.

"Noted…" he uttered simply.

Suddenly at his side, Emily let out a shiver.

It was bitterly cold in the apartment and right now Missy regretted not keeping on top of things better.

What on earth was she going to do if Emily got sick…she couldn't afford to take time off…not now…imagine what the popele ta work would say about that?

Not to mention Emily's health…the little girl struggled as it was…

Missy worried at her lip, fretting.

"Listen," said Wade suddenly, snapping Missy out of her trance. "You wanna come over to my place?"

His voice was genuine and soft.

He turned to Emily.

"I've got hot chocolate with little marshmallows.." he said in a tempting voice, causing the little girl to look up at him wide-eyed.

But Missy gave a frown.

This probably wasn't a good idea….she barely even knew this guy…

"Hot chwocolat?" repeated Emily in what was barely a whisper.

Wade smiled down at her with gentle brown eyes.

"And it sure is a bit warmer than this place is…" he said glancing back over at Missy. "In fact I think a house made of ice vodka luges would be warmer than this…"

Missy gave a gulp.

"I-I don't know…" she murmured biting at her lip, worriedly, and shifting her weight from foot to foot.

But Wade gave an easy shrug, getting to his feet as Emily watched him.

"Look it's just an offer…" he said with a chuckle. "But I do have wifi if you need to get in touch with the electricity company that way…and besides my hot cholate is pretty infamous…"

He turned to Emily.

"…The secret is lots of marshmallows!" he said in a loud whisper behind his hand, causing Emily to blink her eyes up at him curiously.

Perhaps going over to Wade's for a minute or two would be a better option, Missy thought to herself. Instead of rooting around in the dark for a missing paper bill she might have thrown out anyway.

She stared up at her neighbour warily.

There he was, in his usual sheepskin jacket and black tee, looking every inch a guy she would normally cross the street to avoid.

But it was Emily, who let out another silent shiver, who made up Missy's mind for her.

"Ok…" Missy uttered in a quiet tone. "Just until I manage to get this bill paid and get the power back on…"

Wade instantly clapped his hands together, happily, causing Emily to wince slightly, backing away from him in fright.

The blonde man looked suddenly shamefaced at the little girl's reaction.

But Missy merely walked across the room, taking Emily's hand in her own and stroking her cheek.

"Shhh, it's ok baby, it was just Wade…" she said in a soft voice.

Wade shook his head.

"Sorry," he said, looking between them.

And for the first time, Missy saw something in him…. something far removed from his usual cocky swagger. Something genuine, remorseful….honest…

"It's fine…" she said giving him a ghost of a smile, which Wade reciprocated, looking slightly relieved.

And with that, he led the way across the hallway, pushing open the door to his apartment, as Missy and Emily followed.

#wade wilson oc #wade wilson fic #wade oc #wade wilson #wade winston wilson #deadpool ofc #deadpool #deadpool fanfic #deadpool oc #wade wilson fluff

14 notes · View notes

samanthalightning · 4 years ago

Text

She's Got A Date-EoWells X Allen!reader- Part IV

*The GIF is not mine. All rights to the owner*

Part III

Summary: After getting wasted last night, you meet up with Barry and he offered you some advices. Based 1x03

Warnings: None. Just a tad angsty.

***

Extremely groggy, currently having a mind-splitting headache and has the worst case of hungover, it was a miracle that you woke up early— well, thanks to your siren-like alarm. You hate yourself for drinking like a viking and like your liver regenerates like Barry.

Last night was a blur— or at least the part you got home. You blacked out. You have absolutely zero recollection of how you ended up in your bed, in your pyjamas, and your car parked the wrong way. You figured you drank and drove, you might have someone to do with that one. You are so lucky no one caught or Joe would've made sure you won't see the light of day. But everything prior that was still very much intact in your mind. Everything.

You were supposed to meet up with Barry for breakfast today at Jitters. You were headed there anyway for some coffee. It's not far from your apartment, which was nice, because you don't trust yourself with driving hungover as much as driving drunk.

When you arrived at Jitters, Barry was already there. He waved as his eyes caught you entering. You smiled in return. You went to him, put your bag on the floor and took a seat on the stool. Cups of coffee were on the table, it seemed like Barry had already gone through half of his coffee.

"I already ordered for you," he said. "And I got you this ham and cheese sandwich from that bodega." He placed a brown paper bag in front of you.

"Thanks," you mumbled, taking a sip of the coffee. You rummaged through the bag, and took the foil-covered sandwich. It was still warm. Your favorite bodega was all the way downtown. It's a trip to get those treats, which is why you almost never get them. Thank God for Barry and his super speed.

You quickly removed the foil and took a large bite. You groaned happily as you chew. Coffee and greasy sandwich; it was heavenly and bitter. It hits the right spots, it feels as though a part of your soul re-entered your body.

Thank God for Barry and him knowing you so well.

Barry chuckled amusedly at your reaction. "Had some fun last night?" He teased, pointing to your sunglasses covering your eyes.

In your defense, it was very bright outside today.

You rolled your eyes, not that he can see through the lens— or can he? You didn't know. "Just had a few drinks with Iris," you said.

He nodded, half convinced, took a sip of his coffee. "Once upon a time I was falling in love but now I'm falling apart," he sang in a low voice, but enough for your heightened hearing to hear.

Your head quickly jerked up to him, eyes mortified. "How did you know that?" You whispered. Your thoughts ran wildly. Maybe someone took a video of you drunk as hell, and maybe you're trending on all social media platforms or maybe you became a meme.

He shrugged, pursing his lips. "I don't know, you belted those notes in the streets last night,"

Perplexed, you look at him, and it's like he was waiting for something to click while smirking devilishly. Then it dawned on you. All of those questions you asked earlier were answered. He took you home. Which makes sense why he got these sandwiches for you.

"Oh my God," you groaned, burying your face in your hands, cheeks turned into a dark shade of red. Though, you still remember nothing.

Barry laughed hysterically. He loved teasing you so hard.

"Yeah. You called me last night, begging me to pick you up, because you're too drunk to drive," he said as his laughing ceased. "You both refused to enter the car. You started screaming, giggling like 5-year olds. I was lucky the street was dead."

Oh poor Barry. You can imagine, he must be so embarrassed.

It was a relief that even if you're drunk, you didn't risk driving. Maybe you're not as hopeless as you think you are.

Still, you dwelled in your embarrassment.

"So, who is it?" He asked. You look up to him again, eyebrows furrowed with once again cluelessness and confusion. You had a hunch what he was talking about, but it's always safe to pretend you don't know. It can't hurt them. He looked at you incredulously. "Come on, Y/N. You were talking the whole car ride. About some guy, and how things are so complicated and you were tired of it. I've never seen you like that before—"

"—clearly haven't seen me in a frat party before," you snickered, taking off your glasses.

"I'm serious. What is that about?" He insisted firmly, anticipation and a squint of frustration was evident in his face.

You grimaced, mentally hissing at yourself. You couldn't just zip your mouth and reveal your secret. Might as well announce it.

You messed up. You can lie, but what's the point? He's Barry. If he's anything, that's persistent. He tried breaking in Iron Heights.

"I'm dating someone," you confessed.

Barry blinked, clearly caught off guard with your confession. He expected it, but what surprised him is that you hid it from him. He stuttered for a while, before he was able to form a coherent sentence. "Oh. Okay. What happened?"

You sighed, looking down at the table. You took another bit of your sandwich, taking your time to chew. Contemplating whether to elaborate. It's pretty heavy to unload, you didn't expect telling your brother you're dating someone so secretly. And for sure he won't be able to take it all at once. You have to be vague.

"He—he doesn't want anyone to know we're dating, because there are certain consequences that come with it," you explained. It felt foreign to talk about your love life. For the past 6 months, you kept it all to yourself. The bad, the good. You bottled it up inside.

He raised an eyebrow, concern crossed his features. "And you're comfortable with this?"

"At first. But then it felt restricted and suffocating," you explained.

"Did you talk to him about this?"

You nodded. "Yes. He wasn't very convinced. I honestly don't know what to do," you huffed, slumping your shoulder.

It ain't rocket science to figure how deeply i troubled you. It breaks his heart that his little sister is going through some stuff, and she was going through it alone.

"Talk some more. Be honest of what you're really feeling," you thought was pretty rich and ironic coming from him. "You're part of this relationship as much as he is. You have a say in this, and if you don't feel like this isn't working out for you, then maybe you shouldn't be in it at all."

His words hit you like a brick— thousands of bricks hitting you all at once, if you're being accurate. It hurts, because it was right. It hurts, because it deeply matters. You felt the sting in your heart, your jaw tightened. You don't want to think about it, but he's got a point.

Barry was worried with your lack of response, as you think deeply in the distance. "I'm not saying break up with him, okay? I'm just saying this is something you should really talk about and consider. You can't bottle it all up." He doesn't want to screw up his sister's love life or push her to do something that might hurt her, but not exactly disregarding the advice he made.

When he's not being a total dork, he's pretty wise.

You pressed your lips is a hard line, taking it all in. "I know," you murmured.

You weren't able to say anything after that. So did he. It was some heavy weight of emotional stuff to unload to your brother. Your hungover was gone, and who knew these kinds of talks are better than coffee and grease.

Barry decided to break the silence. "This explains so much," he laughed and so did you. You weren't pretty subtle. "Do I know him?" He quirked an eyebrow.

You hesitated, but it's not like Wells' is the first that will come to his mind. Gradually, you nodded. "Yes. But I'm not gonna say who!"

"He isn't someone like Oliver Queen, right?" He half-joked, but deep inside he meant it.

You almost spat your drink. "No!"

Barry went to the precinct, and you headed to S.T.A.R Labs.

You tried to act as normal as possible, even though what Barry said deeply affected you. Thank God Caitlin arrived before you, so you wouldn't have to deal with interactions with him.

You couldn't still believe how much emotion you felt last night; how intense it is. You minded it, but you didn't think you would actually get drunk about it. You have no idea how to deal with it, and if it's the right time to deal with it. You can't go on and help your brother save the city, while your mind is filled with thoughts about him.

Right now, you choose the city.

As soon as Cisco arrived, which wasn't very long, you worked on finishing the pipeline.

It wasn't easy though, you worked on the same thing, be in the same room, act like you didn't get hammered because of him last night. Every time you spare him a glance, and he would look back and he would smile, having no idea what you were going through, it would break your heart just a little bit more. Each minute that you let your feelings be unknown, Barry's words sink into you furthermore. But it occurred to you that the reasons why it was hard were also the reasons why you should keep it together.

The prison was done before lunch. He and Cisco worked over-overtime last night, so there wasn't really much to do, but set it up. It came up together well; durable, functional. The cells slightly look like pods, and given Francisco Ramon's obsession with Star Wars, it makes sense. The test run will happen when 'The Mist' is captured, since Barry doesn't want to participate. But rest assured, you and Cisco worked on it very hard to make sure it works.

Now with the biggest task done, the only thing left to do is go through a bunch of workload and have lunch.

"Hey, Caitlin and I are gonna grab lunch, wanna come?" Cisco asked, putting his coat on. "It's that new place that serves amazing cheap steaks and burgers,"

You realized that the place he was talking about was the very restaurant that you told Wells.

You shook your head. "No, you guys go. I already ordered some food." You smiled, declining.

"Okay, your lost. That place is amazing," he elaborated, clearly pleased with the place. It's Cisco, though. And food.

You snorted, turning your eyes back to the computer. "As I heard," you murmured underneath your breath with a tinge of bitterness, as Cisco strided out of the cortex.

On the bright side, someone from this place already went there. But much to your dismay, it wasn't you.

Your phone dinged. You picked it up to check, and it's what you have been waiting for. The delivery guy is right outside the lab. You quickly headed down to pick it up. You gave the delivery guy some tip, before excitedly went back inside.

You were salivating when the intoxicating smell of Chinese food filled your nostrils.

When you got up, Wells was there. He took a waft of the take-out foods. "Is that from Mann-Lee?" His eyes lit up in recognition. He was the one who introduced you to the restaurant. He said it's the only Chinese place he likes, because it tasted like the food he had in Shanghai. Of course, he's been to China.

You nodded, placing it on the desk. You quickly took out every box of food in the bag, and dug into your chow mein happily and satisfied, not bothering to take a seat.

"Did you order some for me?" He asked.

Unable to speak due to your mouth being filled with noodles and potstickers, you nodded. "It's in the box," he chuckled at your attempt to speak.

He helped himself and rummaged inside the bag's remaining contents. Upon opening one, his face fell, seemingly disappointed. He opened another box only to be disappointed again. He was looking for something specific. Your wonder started to grow, watching him.

He turned to you, and you raised an eyebrow. "Did you order some of their Beef Broccoli?"

"No. Did you want that?" You inquired.

"Yeah." He forced a half-smile, waving his fingers dismissively. "It's okay. I'm fine with Kung Pao Chicken; it's decent enough,"

For some reason, your mood soured. Decent in Harrison Wells' vocabulary means it's not good enough; he doesn't hate it, but he doesn't love either. You felt bad that you didn't know what he actually likes, but in your defense, he never says, and he lets you eat it. He never complained.

"You don't have to eat it if you don't like it," you said. You didn't want to watch him suffer eating something he doesn't like while you enjoy your own lunch.

"No, it's fine," he assured you.

"No, Harry. I mean it— you don't have to eat it," you insisted with more vigor in your tone.

He ignored you, and took a bite of the chicken. You scoffed in disbelief, frustration fueled in your chest. You want to stop him as he continues eating, but you decided against it. It's too petty to get angry about, not worth it.

You eat your lunch in peace, every time you turn to Wells, he would wince every now and then when he takes a bite. You don't know what about Kung Pao Chicken he doesn't like, but he doesn't just like it. You tried to let him go through it, but you're starting to get annoyed. And of course, you couldn't stop yourself.

"Okay, stop," you suddenly spoke, putting your food aside. "You don't have to eat, you don't like it." You tried to grab the food out of his grasp, but he swerved swiftly.

"Y/N, I said it's fine!" Wells said, displeased at your attempt to take his food away.

"It's not! You don't look fine— you don't like it!" Your voice rose a little.

He exhaled audibly. "It's just food,"

"I know it's just Kung Pao Chicken that I ordered that you don't like, so just admit it and stop eating!" You spat.

He scoffed in disbelief. "What is wrong with you? I am eating it!"

"But that's the point!" You snapped loudly. "You don't have to do anything you don't want to do— you never do!"

Realizing what you've said, you shut your eyes. Your hands flew to each side of your head, fingers weaved through your hair, tugging on them. You needed to calm down and take breath, and be rational. The last you want to do is do something reckless and irrational.

"Is there something wrong?" He questioned firmly.

You mentally grimaced at the question. It was a stupid question; it's basically screaming at his face. "Nothing," you muttered.

Of course he didn't buy it. You weren't exactly selling it well. Or at all.

"It's something. You're enraged over food," You don't honestly know how he can keep his tone down, but it was evident he was agitated. You hate it so much right now.

You sighed wearily, refusing to face him. Afraid of what might happen if you do.

"Let it go, Wells," you pleaded through your gritted teeth and clenched jaw.

"No. I'm not gonna stop until this is settled. Tell me, what's wrong? Did something happen?"

He continued on, pushing you to speak. The idea of unloading all of your hidden burdens entered your mind, but you don't have the emotional capacity to face the fact that this is taking a toll on you. You tried to hold your ground, but his voice overwhelmed you.

You pushed your chair back, getting on your feet and facing him.

"Everything is wrong, Harrison!" You shouted, your voice boomed inside. Wells almost flinched. "Everything is wrong with us!"

Wells shook his head, baffled. "What do you mean?"

"I mean I can't take this any longer,"

"Can't take what?"

"This—" you gestured to you and him. "—This arrangement we made!"

Wells sighed, distressed, catching on what you were saying. "I thought you were okay with this,"

You chewed on your bottom lip, as you folded your arms across your chest. When you spoke, your voice dropped into a whisper; you couldn't control it. "I thought so too. Then last night, Iris vented out to me." You paused. You struggled to keep it together, now pressing your tightly folded arms on your chest. You continued. "They were having problems, same as us. I gave her some insights about everything, and then I realized that's how I feel!"

The underlying problem he thought he got handled was more intense than he thought. Time was running, you couldn't pick more of an impeccable timing, and the team could waltz in anytime while you were having this fight. He couldn't afford anyone finding out about it.

He took off his glasses, and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Y/N, this is not the time for this," he said.

You snorted, your anger erupted in your veins. You were tired of avoiding the elephant in the room.

"When is the perfect time? When it's too late? When we break up?" You didn't want to say it, but it was at the tip of your tongue, waiting to be asked ever since you realized it.

His expression hardened. You already see the gears working. "Y/N, don't go there," he murmured, not glancing up to you.

"Why?" Your voice cracked into an almost sob. That was it. The tears found their way and pool at the rim of your eyes. "I tried to make myself believe that I understand, but I couldn't help but think that maybe you're scared that if things don't work out you won't have to deal with other people, thinking that you slept with a 24-year old girl."

Soon, every emotion you were feeling last night came rushing back to you; the confusion, the anger, the love and the pain— towards him and yourself. It seeped, not only to your heart, but through your very bones and weary soul. All too soon it became overwhelming, your chest tightening, your stomach knotting, struggling to keep it at bay.

Thinking it was one thing, but saying was a whole new realm of pain you didn't know you existed, let alone capable of feeling.

He glanced up to you, eyes staring into you meaningfully. "I would never think that. I made so many enemies, Y/N. Before and after the accelerator exploded. The last thing those people want is to see me happy and that puts you in danger," he reasoned.

You tried to steady your shaky voice. "I know. But your reasons and your excuses, they won't matter in the long run. The press, Joe, our friends, my brother— everything they say won't matter to me, because they're not the ones who loves you like I do, and they're not the one in a relationship with you." You told him, staring back, before turning away, as they threatened to fall.

You inhaled sharply. "I love you, Harrison Wells. And no matter what they say about us or you or me, I'll love you. Damn, you put my brother in a 9-month coma, but I loved you nonetheless!" You pointed your index finger at him in the air.

He let you speak, taking it all, as waiting for you to finish, let it all out and explain his side. And then, you'll be swept off your feet again, as if all of your feelings and thoughts didn't exist in your mind before. Barry was right. You couldn't believe you were getting to this point, but he was right.

"But I don't wanna hide anymore. I want to do more. Be free. If you don't want anyone to know that this relationship is happening, then maybe we shouldn't happen at all," You stated.

You both were silent, the tension was thick and you could cut a knife through it. Suddenly you couldn't move, like all of your energy was drained from your body.

You turned away before you could see his reaction. The pain was unbearable; it's best if you don't see it.

Mustering all the courage and strength you have left and your body, you took a step to leave the room. He tried to stop you by reaching out, but you recoiled, before his fingertips graze your skin.

"Don't,"

You strided out of the cortex, your shoulder straightened, held up high to hold your tears, but every step you take, the control you have dissipates. Slowly, your tears overflowed. You wiped the tears, though it didn't make any difference, your tears fell and fell, soaking your neck. Soon, all hell broke loose, sobs racked your body, your hands flew to your mouth to muffle your voice.

Wells was left with nothing, but the sound of your footsteps received, your muffled sob through the walls; thousands thoughts and emotions, and the weight of your words.

***

My parents are fighting. This one made me genuinely sad. Anyway, I'd really appreciate it if you share this and give it some love. Thanks!

Part V

90 notes · View notes