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drugstore-love · 5 months ago

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The Smallest Man Who Ever Lived

so many people, including those who say they are fans dislike TTPD and refer to it as lazy but I find it to be some of Taylor's best work. I appreciate the metaphors and how vulnerable she is with the narrative. She's not hiding; it's poetry. It's about emotion and the musicality really does come second.

Here's my song by song break down of things that I enjoy (and don't like) about the album for my own future reference so that I do not cave into peer pressure and start to hate the album on principle. Here are my personal interpretations and what the songs mean for me.

In no particular order The Smallest Man Who Ever Lived:

I think people keep calling this album lazy because it's really about the ending of relationships and the changes that you go through personally when a relationship end. They may be different relationships but I think people wanted a narrative change and that's not really what most albums are about?? Like unless they are complete capitalist ploys (which.......I digress) and Taylor now has the fanbase and the freedom to write whatever she wants, so this album, to me, was therapy.

Anyway, this song is when you see a completely different perspective of a person and your relationship once said relationship is over. I hate the production on this song and I'm usually an Aaron girly but the drums and strings feel forced and while I appreciate them for production value within the Eras tour they felt jarring and misplaced during the album listen. I think that they were went to convey emotion and raise the listeners blood pressure so they also felt agitated with the subject but the way they fade out with the song leaves a lot to be desired and kind of feels like the author is fizzling out during what, lyrically, can be argued as the most empowering part of the song. They succeed in capturing the audience's attention after the lullaby nature of the rest of the song but honestly are a distraction from the lyrics. However, I love the piano, especially at the beginning where it's almost a staccato, until the notes are played rhythmically together, it truly feels like poetry set to music. Lyrically, I find this song to be one of the most honest and telling. It feels like a letter one would write to their former partner with no intention of ever actually giving to them.

Was any of it true?

Gazing at me starry-eyed

In your Jehovah's Witness suit

Who the fuck was that guy?

You tried to buy some pills

From a friend of friends of mine

They just ghosted you

Now you know what it feels like

It feels like you were playing me this whole time. All the shit you said, the way you looked at me, fuck even the way you dressed. I thought that I got to see the real you, I trusted you, I believed you and the way you left reinforced what everyone else told me about you that I wrote off as untrue. (Insert vampire by Olivia Rodrigo)

Also appreciate the dig about this person being addicted to drugs because I interpret that line as "Oh you got ignored when it came to something important that you love? Karma, because I loved you and you ignored me"

And I don't even want you back, I just want to know

If rusting my sparkling summer was the goal

And I don't miss what we had, but could someone give

A message to the smallest man who ever lived?

All the effort that was put into wooing the author and winning them over and learning them and "loving" them. It feels like everything was a game, a joke, a plot in a rom-com that the protagonist was too dumb to figure out at the time.

I could never go back to what we were and if I thought you'd listen openly and respond honestly I'd ask questions, but mostly I'd ask why

You hung me on your wall

Stabbed me with your push pins

In public, showed me off

Then sank in stoned oblivion

'Cause once your queen had come

You treat her like an also-ran

You didn't measure up

In any measure of a man

You made me feel like the prize but once you had me you treated me like shit behind closed doors. You made me feel like your insecurities were my fault but it was your choice to stop considering me once you had me. You promised me better than my ex and then didn't fulfill that promise and made it my fault.

And I don't even want you back, I just want to know

If rusting my sparkling summer was the goal

And I don't miss what we had, but could someone give

A message to the smallest man who ever lived?

This bridge is pure poetry.

Were you sent by someone who wanted me dead?

Did you sleep with a gun underneath our bed?

What was real? Were you just waiting for me to let my guard down?

Were you writing a book? Were you a sleeper cell spy?

What were your motivations? This is almost begging for clarification

In fifty years, will all this be declassified?

And you'll confess why you did it

And I'll say, "Good riddance"

'Cause it wasn't sexy once it wasn't forbidden

The only rationale I can think of is you got bored and I know I'll be better off without this but even 50 years from now, even when I don't care anymore I'll still read your reasons. Once again reiterating that I only wanted what you promised before we were actually together and once I was yours, it wasn't worth it to you

I would've died for your sins

Instead, I just died inside

I would've done anything for you, and you're the one who stabbed me

And you deserve prison, but you won't get time

You'll slide into inboxes and slip through the bars

The way you made me feel should be illegal but instead you'll continue on as you did before

(really driving in the feeling of inadequacy one can make you feel, especially when you're a person who people idolize and then are disappointed in when they meet the real you. this is exactly what happened here, taking out speculation what's discussed in the song is: before we got together you praised and complimented and lusted after me and once I gave my actual self to you and opened up it wasn't what you wanted and that is detrimental to one's self esteem)

You crashed my party and your rental car

Never having to take accountability for your actions, you ruined good things for both of us

You said normal girls were boring

But you were gone by the morning

You said I was what you wanted, that I was different and as soon as I gave in, you left (giving into the discord:this is exactly how H describes Matty so..)

You kicked out the stage lights

But you're still performing

You ended this, you wrecked us and yet you're still lying you're still placating and manipulating me trying to save your own skin

And in plain sight you hid

But you are what you did

You never disagreed with the rumors but you really had me fooled about who you were. However, at the end of the day actions speak louder and when a person shows you who they are you should believe them. I always should have known who you are

And I'll forget you, but I'll never forgive

The smallest man who ever lived

I'm gonna move on, I'm gonna grow, I'm going to be happy but it's for me and I'll never forget the way you treated me.

#taylor swift #ttpd #the eras tour #the smallest man who ever lived #tsmwel #taylornation #song #future reference

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ifyouknowmenahyoudontt · 4 months ago

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canon sucks in the sense that there should be more characters of color than we can count on our fingers, more canonically queer characters, more disabled or neurodivergent characters. not everyone should be cishet, white, and neurotypical. ( and the "erm but actually dumbledore was gay and hermione was black!" bullshit doesn't satisfy this ) and i applaud the old fans for getting over the old faceclaims ( aaron taylor johnson, andrew garfield, ben barnes... i salute the many edits of them ) and the new age fandom for keeping up the poc headcanons!!

canon sucks in the sense that while we can have complex characters, morally grey leaning dark characters, those characters should not try to be slotted into "good or bad." those characters shouldn't have very brief redemptions that suddenly make them heroes and epic good guys after entire books of assholery and even bigotry. two guesses as to who i'm talking about here!

canon does not suck in the "my favorite character may have maybe a sentence of plot relevance doesn't get enough attention, so i'm going to ignore all the canon things that point to them being a bigot and instead woobify them and try to make them more important than they actually were" way.

like, fanon regulus black my ABHORRED. while he wasn't abused himself, was canonically the favorite of his parents because he aligned with their ideals, it's interesting to explore sirius' complicated thoughts on his little brother. one that many mistreated and abused older siblings have when it comes to their younger- could i have done more, could i have saved him, changed him, etc. but acting like regulus wouldn't have hated his guts and wanted sirius dead, literally became a death eater and fully agreed with voldemort's ideals?? did we read the same books?

and canon does not suck in the "i'm going to take these cool complex characters and dumb them down to a single personality trait or stereotype, and pretend they're not a complex person with flaws" way.

like, i love james and sirius, literally my favorite characters! they were not always the good guys. canonically, even if he turned out to be an exponentially worse person, they were the villains in someone's story. they used to be bullies, just for the sake of it. they used to be asshole teenage boys with big egos and privilege ( both coming from wealthy pureblood households ). and they don't have to use that privilege AGAINST anyone! they obviously wouldn't, both of them are considered "blood traitors" for a reason ( james marrying a muggleborn and sirius even associating with james and lily and remus ).

it's so much more interesting to explore how they would have been as privileged little dickheads in the 70s in the midst of war, rather than "sunshine himbo james" and "femboy twink sirius" ( or if we wanna go back to old fandom shit, "sexy, lady-killer, has fucked everyone and their mom sirius" ). i also just hate "big sexy strict alpha remus," i can stand him being sarcastic because it's funny but i can't with people who take away his shyness and kindness. give us quiet bookworm remus back PLEASSEEE

even peter, and i used to be a victim of this as well- THEY LIKED HIM! peter was a marauder, he was part of the group, he was their best friend too. i understand people who try to erase him altogether just out of hating him, but those who pretend that james, sirius, and remus didn't care for him are just wrong. it's okay to not like a character, but don't rewrite canon in a way that fully fucks up the story. peter's betrayal sucked from all angles, because he was their friend too.

and reading what you and multiple other people have said about lily is so right, she gets the "jealous straight girl that wants james but HATES REGULUS for stealing jamie!!" treatment, or is just cast out altogether. like, sorry, who did harry get his striking green eyes from? who brought him into the goddamn world? james sure as hell didn't do it alone, and last i checked, regulus was dead by then if we wanna be real about it.

this turned out to be an insane rant, SO sorry, but hp is my special interest and i LOVE the marauders era just as much as i love the golden trio era. they're interesting to explore as characters, ESPECIALLY james, in the same way a lot of people like rose quartz from steven universe? he's spoken about as this infamous, talented, really good dude who died protecting his wife and son and helped bring upon the savior of the wizarding world. but he was also like a huge asshole when he was in school, and harry probably would have hated to meet james and sirius from back then! but people dumb all of them down in the marauders era works just because we don't get explicit descriptions or tellings of what they were like. and it's so annoying!!

i strongly agree with this.

tbh regulus being one of the most popular character speaks a lot about this fandom. bigotry is a broad term and those who criticize JKR (rightfully tho) but go on again to do that to women? or the poc? hypocritical

and the fanon remus thing pisses me off so bad because the point of his character was that he was a soft and sensitive person contrasting with his “condition”!!!! he was human!!!!!!

i agree w this sm

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the1975attheirverybest · 2 years ago

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Depending on how long Taylor and Matty have actually been seeing each other… he might’ve made that last bit of atpoaim so… straightforward so that we as fans would know to be understanding of him?

I’ve seen a lot of fans lately being a bit upset with Matty for leaving social media and seeming distant lately… but maybe he included that last bit so we would understand that being outside of his fort is scary for him, and he isn’t ignoring us. He’s just adjusting.

Am I reaching here? I mean some of the episode seems to imply that he was single when he made it, but also maybe not. It’s a story after all. He’s written a plot to express his feelings and thoughts. His “I need a girlfriend” bit might have been his way of telling us like… “don’t freak out about the news. I’m happy. I needed this.” But also at the same time “this is scary though so be patient”

Thoughts?

Yeah, like you said, hard to tell depending on when him and Taylor got together. Like, could be that he was with her and already anticipating the madness of when the news breaks. Or maybe it wasn’t on his mind at all cuz he and Taylor weren’t a thing at the time. Either way, I do feel like in my mind because I’m an insane woman. The fort reminded me of the VIP tent at the Nashville shows.

And he’s definitely wayyyy out of the fort in those locations. With her friends. Without HIS friends. Going to places he doesn’t frequent often and having to have security and stuff. It must be disorienting and he does need time to adjust. The other day I said something about how we owe him patience and someone came at me with “I don’t owe him shit.” Obviously everyone has a different relationship to the art that they consume. I won’t speak for everyone else but I will say, for me, Matty is a person that I think is important / worthy of the love and time that I’ve projected onto him. And I do consider my relationship to him (I said “to him” not “with him” so don’t come at me) to have an element of respect. And he’s always been open and honest with us. He’s always been generous with his time and made an effort to be vulnerable. Never talked down to us or treated us like we’re behind a wall or separated from his reality or whatever. For all those reasons, I think that we do owe him some patience with this whole thing. At least I think I owe him that. And whether or not he’s intentionally made this episode with that plea in mind. I think it’s incumbent on me as a fan to remember that it is the case. This is all new and scary to him. He’s talked so much on more than one occasion about how he struggles being single. He’s always said that he feels nervous when he’s not with “my people” all of those things mean that he’s gotta be happy. Excited, scared, and a bit confused at the moment. As a fan, I feel like it’s on me to do my part of being supportive of him in this moment by respecting his needs and waiting for when he’s ready to let thousands of people in on what’s what. Until then, I’ll wait and remember that he’s doing is best under weird circumstances.

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bi-bard · 2 years ago

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They Say Looks Can Kill and I Might Try - Tyrell Wellick Imagine (Mr. Robot)

Title: They Say Looks Can Kill and I Might Try

Pairing: Tyrell Wellick X Reader

Based On: Vigilante Shit

Word Count: 1,497 words

Warning(s): arrest, mention of cheating

Summary: Tyrell Wellick liked to play the role of the confident businessman. (Y/n) hated watching him act like that. After Tyrell goes one step too far, (Y/n) decides that he deserves to be humbled.

Author's Note: Does this completely fuck up the plot of Mr. Robot? Yes. Do I care? Not even a little.

What's more fun than bullshitting your way through the middle of a Mr. Robot plotline?

MIDNIGHTS - TAYLOR SWIFT WRITING CHALLENGE MASTERLIST

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If you had told me when I started at E-Corp that I would've fallen into a fight for power for a position at said company, I would never have believed you.

It wasn't my style.

But Tyrell Wellick always had a way of bringing out the worst in me.

We had joined the company around the same time. We seemed to constantly be taking the same steps at the same time. Position after position, step after step. One right after the other.

It started what I originally considered a friendly rivalry. Two people taking small jabs at each other as we both focused on climbing the ladder.

And then, Tyrell was appointed Senior Vice President of Technology.

Any "friendly" component went out the window after he stopped seeing us as equals. He was condescending, overbearing, cocky. All traits that should've made him hated across the company.

But he had that smile. He had the wife and the house. He had everything perfectly in place for all of his negatives to become nothing of importance.

To put it very simply: he drove me up a wall.

I tried to ignore it.

I hyper-focused on my work. I was set on proving to them that promoting Tyrell over me was a mistake. If I couldn't prove that he was nothing more than a real-life Patrick Bateman- a little boy wearing a shell to make him look like a man- then I could prove that I was simply better on my own without using a very cheap disguise.

And then, Tyrell pushed a little too hard.

He had called me into his office to discuss something.

In all honesty, whatever had been discussed has since been lost on me. The only moment that mattered to me now was the moment Tyrell grabbed my jaw and forced me to hold still.

The grip wasn't tight enough to cause serious injury, but it was enough to hurt. To make me hiss in pain and shock and embarrassment.

I refused to break eye contact with him.

He wanted to play tough. I could play that game too.

"You are trying to play checkers when everyone else is playing chess," his voice was quiet. His smile was condescending. My stomach churned. "Time to quit the game. You aren't going to win."

He let go of me but didn't move back.

There was a pause between us. Like a stare-down. A dare.

I forced a grin to him. "Have a good day, Mr. Wellick."

"You too," he replied in that sickeningly sweet voice that made me feel sick.

I walked out of his office as confidently as I could.

The gears had already started turning in my head. By lunch that day, I had everything planned out. I knew exactly how to get exactly what I wanted and needed.

Tyrell was right.

I was playing the wrong game.

I was going to show him how stupid it was to accidentally invite me to the board.

When I said Tyrell was cocky, I meant it. He loved discussing his genius with computers. His humble beginnings as a tech. He loved telling people all of it. Including me.

It was all foundation I needed.

The thought implanted in people's minds. Enough for them to believe.

My first turn in my game with Tyrell was far easier than I anticipated.

Someone had done a bit of the leg work for me. A bit. They had done most of it. It was a bigger bombshell than I had intended to drop, but who was I to mess with a good thing?

Just a few added instructions, a few changes that no one would notice unless they were truly set on who their fall guy was.

That simple.

At the end of the day, I wasn't changing their plan all that much. I was just changing who got blamed for pulling the trigger.

I smiled to myself.

I should've started this little game a long time ago. Would've had so much extra time on my hands.

My next step was a visit to Joanna Wellick.

I didn't know much about her other than the fact that her hunger for wealth and status rivaled Tyrell's. But she could be very useful if I played my cards right.

I knew Tyrell would be gone. At a meeting of some kind, according to the calendar. I knocked on their front door.

She knew of me.

It was the only reason that she let me in the door.

"I'm so sorry to interrupt your evening," I said. I had mastered the kind, worried act a long time ago. "I... I just felt the need to tell you about something."

I stood on the opposite side of the kitchen island. I placed a large yellow envelope down on the counter.

She was a smart woman. She didn't need answers. She needed the evidence for the answers. Evidence so if she utilized those answers, she would get exactly what she wanted.

I slid it over to her. She just looked at it for a moment, not reaching for it. Like she knew what was in there.

"What's in there," she asked.

I reached out and touched her hand, putting on a gentle and kind gaze. "I just want to make sure that you're happy, Joanna. You deserve the best."

She looked down at my hand for a moment before meeting my eyes again. She was trying to see my true intentions. Either she couldn't, or she could and didn't care all that much.

"You can what you'd like with that," I continued. "Have a good rest of your evening."

"You too," she nodded to me once.

She let me leave without another word.

That seemed to be the key to everything I wanted to do. As long as I had the appropriate skills and the right level of confidence, I could walk through any door with little questioning.

I decided it was an art.

I had set the pieces for Tyrell's demise.

All I had to do now was watch the show play out.

I wouldn't know the true reward of my actions until a few nights later.

I had turned on the TV just before I started making dinner. There was a breaking news alert running. I stood for a moment and watched as Tyrell was dragged out of his home with his hands handcuffed behind his back.

I let out a chuckle.

My phone started ringing.

"Hello," I said, not pulling my eyes away from the news.

"The police just showed up and took Tyrell away-"

It was Joanna.

"I know, I saw the news," I stopped her. I kept on a sad, compassionate voice even though I was smirking at the screen. "I am so sorry, Joanna. This must be so difficult."

"Did you know," she asked. She had an alarming calm about her. I admired it.

"I had no idea. I was trying to help you. I never imagined Tyrell could do anything like this."

My phone went off before she could respond.

"I'm getting another call," I explained. "I have to go. Good luck, Joanna. I wish you the best."

"You too."

I switched to the other call a moment later.

"Turn on the news."

It was Mr. Colby.

"I've been watching, sir," I replied. "Very disappointing."

"It certainly is," he muttered. "I need you to come in. We're holding a bit of a last-minute meeting."

"I'll be there as soon as possible, sir."

I was guided into Tyrell's office when I got to E-Corp. There was a group of men sitting around Mr. Colby when I walked in.

"I hope I'm not too late."

"No, no, not at all," he assured me. "This was more a congratulations than anything."

"I'm sorry, sir?"

"We here at E-Corp are happy to welcome (Y/n) (Y/l/n) as the new Senior Vice President of Technology," he announced to the group. They clapped. I looked around at their face. Smirks. All smirks. True pride. "We'll hold a more formal meeting in the morning. Get the papers drawn up and make everything official. You just needed to be aware of your job now."

I smiled at him. "Don't worry, sir. I'll be sure to clean up whatever mess Mr. Wellick left behind."

"Good, good," he replied. "We'll leave you to get acquainted with your office. Please feel free to box up any of Tyrell's personal belongings. His wife will come to collect them in the morning."

I nodded.

"Make me proud."

"Certainly, sir."

Another few days would pass before there was another break in the Tyrell Wellick case.

Photos proving his unfaithfulness to his wife.

A distancing tactic.

That's what I had handed Joanna that night in her home.

I sat in my new office, reading the news on my new computer.

I leaned back in my new chair, finally content with a small grin sitting on my lips.

And I muttered one word to myself, "Checkmate."

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Author's Note: Not gonna lie, I'm really happy with how this one came out.

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#tyrell wellick imagine #tyrell wellick fanfiction #tyrell wellick x reader #imagine #x reader #fanfiction #mr robot x reader #mr robot fanfiction #mr robot imagine

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troubatrain · 4 years ago

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twisted in bedsheets - m. tkachuk

a/n: this is straight up smut.... like minimal plot mostly filth. but i hope you guys like it, i may give it a part two if anyone wants to see it but i don't know yet. big shoutout to my resident whores @hookingminor & @tkafuckit ily both sm

taglist : @barzysreputation

warnings: it's smush time (smut)

You almost wanted to make fun of him.

A part of you wondered, what did a single, twenty three year old, professional athlete who lived in a different country most of year need a house this big for? That wasn’t your business, and really neither was showing up two days after Matthew moved in with a bottle of wine and silly housewarming gift to make yourself feel better about where his little brother, also known as your best friend, was. You knocked loudly, hoping the car in the driveway meant Matthew was home and you weren’t wasting your time.

Matthew was inside, finally getting some peace and quiet after spending the day listening to his mother and the interior designer he hired argue about throw pillows. He jumped at the knock of his door, not used to the way it echoed through the house he bought on a whim. You were standing on the other side, bouncing on your heels with a bag in your hand and Matthew couldn’t help but smile.

Matthew always had a soft spot for you, Brady was your best friend and just like Matthew found himself watching out for Brady, he did the same for you. It was easy to keep it like that for years, Brady being far more possessive because you were his friend and not Matthew’s and not everything needs to be about you Matt, but it’d gotten harder lately. It was sudden, one summer Matthew came home and you were lounging by the pool and he swore his dick twitched in his pants, and it just wasn’t getting easier. It wasn’t easier when he tried to convince himself that there was an age gap between the both of you, even though it was barely two years and no one would blink an eye. It wasn’t easier when he beat the Senators and you quietly told him he had a good game because if Brady caught wind of it he’d lose his mind. And it sure as hell wasn’t easier when Brady mentioned your boyfriend constantly.

Your boyfriend who was having a party that Matthew knew for a fact Brady was at, but why weren’t you? Matthew couldn’t possibly get his hopes up, knowing if you were single he’d find some way to break your heart and you didn’t deserve that. That was the thing, Matthew ruined people and you were a far better person than he was to begin with. Matthew opens the door regardless, a smile on his face when he meets your eyes.

“Hi,” You beam, trying to play off like you were happy when you were just looking for a distraction that didn’t involve driving around and crying to Taylor Swift, “I, uh, congrats?”

Matthew chuckles, cocking his head to the side and opening his door a little further for you to come in, “Thank you, you really didn’t have to bring a gift.”

“It’s rude not too,” You scold, tapping Matthew in the arm and forgetting for a second you weren’t talking to Brady.

You pretended like you couldn’t feel it, the way his arms felt like a solid fucking rock and it was getting harder and harder to shove down that silly crush you’ve had since high school. You remember it so clearly, the moment Matthew went from Brady’s brother to just Matthew. You were a freshman, a dorky quiet kid who everyone knew not to mess with exclusively because Brady would kick the shit out of them, and you overheard a few girls in Matthew’s gossiping about how cute he was. Then it hit you, just as Matthew was leaning against his car to drive you home - he was cute. Cute turned into hot quickly, and you spent summer after summer wondering if you’d be bold enough to make a move.

You watched as Matthew pulled out the picture you’d framed for him, one his mother had taken of the three of you as kids. You were at the same ice cream shop you went to after every Blue’s game, chocolate ice cream smiles on your faces.

“You dropped your ice cream right after my mom took this,” Matthew hums, smiling at the memory himself.

“And you gave me yours because you felt bad for me,” You finish, hence the reason you chose that photo in the first place.

“You were crying,” Matthew nods, remembering the way his heart broke when he saw tears well up in your eyes. Even then, Matthew was a protector, constantly defending the people he held close to his heart, “Brady wouldn’t even share his… speaking of, isn’t there a huge rager you could be at right now?”

“Something about a party at my ex boyfriend’s doesn’t sound fun to me at all,” You sigh, hoping you wouldn’t have to explain it any further.

You didn’t have a boyfriend anymore.

It was all Matthew could process, his brain malfunctioning because he couldn’t believe it. Matthew gave you a sympathetic smile, “Let’s crack that bottle open then?”

You agreed, following Matthew into his yard to sit out by his fire pit, an early summer breeze making St. Louis unseasonably cold. He came back with two glasses, and you tried simply to ignore that his hands were big enough to hold both glasses in one, “So, Brady’s at a party at your ex-boyfriend’s place and you’re not mad at him at all?”

“I can’t be mad at Brady,” You explain, pouring yourself a glass of wine that was just a bit too big, “He doesn’t know what happened.”

“I thought you had no secrets,” Matthew questions, knowing that Brady knew everything about you and you were the same way. You turned your attention to the glass, swirling it in your hand while you seemed to shut down under Matthew’s gaze, “Y/N… it’s me, you know you can tell me.”

“It’s really embarrassing,” You whisper, “He cheated on me…”

“That’s not your fault,” Matthew scoffs, throwing an arm around your shoulders, “Why didn’t you tell-”

“He told me it was because the girl he was hooking up with was better in bed than me,” You whisper, Matthew closing his mouth immediately. He took a deep breath, his fingers scratching against your scalp while he looked straight ahead, “Please don’t tell Brady.”

“Your secret’s safe with me,” Matthew nods, his bottom lip between his teeth, “You’re perfect, and if he doesn’t see that he can go fuck himself.”

“What if he’s right?” You ask, taking a gulp of your drink. Matthew knew what road you were headed towards, one that was going to leave you insecure about this for the rest of your life if Matthew didn’t choose his next words carefully.

“He’s not,” Matthew shakes his head, hopping off the outdoor sofa you were on and kneeling down in front of you, “And you don’t need some douchebags opinion to make yourself feel good.”

“Would you sleep with me?” You ask, Matthew’s hand that had been rubbing your thighs gently stopped. You craved the validation, and a part of you always wondered if you had a shot with Matthew. If you were both able to drown out the noise from your friends and family, would he want you? Matthew’s hand crept up to your cheek, his thumb tracing your lip. You looked at him like this was the most important question he’d ever have to answer, and like if he said yes your lips would be on his, “And tell me I’m good.”

Matthew shut his eyes, running every possible scenerio knowing all of them include him fucking this up and hurting your feelings, but he couldn’t stop himself from trying. His lips ghosted over yours, stubble rough against your skin, “You’re sure about this?”

“Please,” You pout, not even bothering to give Matthew your best sexy face. You’d faked it enough, a year of trying to be something you weren’t to please some asshole who left for someone else anyways. Matthew’s hands slid on either side of you, his lips against yours and your hands on the back of his neck.

“Inside,” Matthew mutters against your lips, knowing if he didn’t stop himself now his new neighbors would get a show they didn��t ask for. You deserved better than that anyways. You snuck inside, your lips pressing kisses to Matthew’s neck while his arm stayed around your waist until you ended up in his bedroom. The back of your knees hit the edge of the bed, Matthew crawling on top of you, “I cannot believe that asshole let you slip through his fingers like that.”

“Make me forget about him then,” You let out a breath, Matthew smirking against your skin when you lit up that competitive fire he’d always had. You tugged at the bottom of his shirt, Matthew taking the hint and grabbing it from the back of his neck to toss off. Matthew’s hands slid under your shirt, unhooking your bra and swirling his finger around your nipples, pulling a moan from you.

“You even moan pretty,” Matthew could believe it, knowing just how many dreams like this, but really hearing it was something else entirely. Matthew shed your clothes quickly, leaving you just in your panties while he pressed kisses against your skin, murmurs of praise left in their wake.

“Matty,” You whimper, tilting Matthew’s chin up from where it was nestling between your thighs, “No one’s ever made me cum like this before.”

Matthew swore he was going to blow right there. The way your eyes looked into his, a trust that you were giving him that it was becoming clear you’d never given anyone. If it was anyone else, Matthew’s cocky nature would have broken through, a challenge accepted attitude that he couldn’t have with you.

You weren’t nervous but it wasn’t some secret that Matthew got around, and admitting something that seemed as trivial as what you’d told him was a big deal to you. Matthew’s blue eyes were soft, a small smile on his face, “We’ll go slow baby.”

And slow it was, Matthew was patient, trying to figure out what was going to get you off. His tongue was lapping at your core slowly, smirking at the way you squirmed whenever he got close to your clit. Your hands were in his hair, curling his overgrown hair around your fingers. Matthew’s tongue flicked your clit, your soft grip on his curls tighter, “Fuck, sorry-”

“Keep tugging on them,” Matthew groans against you, the vibrations sending a chill up your spine. His fingers were digging into your thighs, undoubtedly leaving a mark to worry about later, but you didn’t care. Matthew was eating your pussy like it was his last fucking meal, growing harder from the way you were moaning his name. You were close, your hips lifting off the bed and Matthew’s hands against your stomach to keep you right where you were. The only sounds echoing through that house were the ones from your orgasm, washing over you while Matthew finally pulled away. His finger swiped your core, sucking your cum off his finger, “Fucking delicious…”

You could feel the heat on your cheeks, holding your arm over your face from Matthew’s praise. He let out a light laugh, pulling your arm down and pressing a kiss to your forehead, “Don’t be insecure, when you’re with me you don’t have to be.”

You didn’t have a second to process his words, the way say with me like this was something meant to last more than a night, because Matthew’s lips were back on yours. Your hand snuck between you, palming him through his sweats and swallowing the groan with your lips, “I want to try something.”

Matthew’s brows raised, letting you push him onto his back without a fight. You’d never been the most confident in the bedroom, and you really never tried anything that wasn’t missionary, but something about Matthew’s praise had your head held high. You grind your hips against him, a smug smile on Matthew’s face, “You’ve never been on top before?”

You shook your head no, biting your lip and waiting for why have you had the most boring sex life imaginable laugh that should have followed. It never came, instead Matthew’s hands gripped your hips and lifted you up so he could kick off his sweats and boxers. His hand fell, searching through his bedside table for a condom, tearing it open with his teeth and rolling it onto his cock. He tapped your clit with the head, his thumb that was still gripping you was rubbing softly against your skin, “Whenever you’re ready babe.”

Matthew watched you sink yourself onto him slowly, biting his lip to stop himself from cumming too soon because this was hotter than anything he could have imagined. All of those fantasies included finding out you were secretly dirty as hell, but finding out you weren’t and the trust you seemed to give Matthew because he’d never done you wrong was even sexier. Matthew’s hands guided your hips slowly, his head thrown back from the pleasure, “Am I doing good?”

“You’re doing fucking wonderful baby,” Matthew groans, grabbing a fistful of your ass. You moan, falling forward and kissing Matthew’s jaw lightly. He threw his arm around your back, fucking up into you at faster pace, “I want you cum again, c’mon.”

“Matty, I-” You whimper, a protest that you didn’t think you had another one in you until your pussy clenched around him. Your legs were shaking, Matthew stopping himself before he got too rough with you. You caught your breath for a second, Matthew pushing your hair away from your face so he could kiss you. His kisses were gentle, a stark contrast from the fact that his cock was still buried inside of you. You tried to move, grind your hips against his to get him off like he’d just done to you, but your hips bucked from the sensitivity.

“Slow down babe,” Matthew hums, his large hand rubbing your back gently, “We’ll get there.”

Getting there wasn’t hard at all. Not after Matthew had you on your back so he could keep fucking you. You looked beautiful, moaning his own name below him like you’d never said anyone’s name like that. Matthew’s head was tucked into your neck, the sounds of his skin slapping against yours filling the room until he finally came with a loud groan.

When you finally came down from the after sex high, a realization washed over you. You’d had sex with your best friend’s brother. The same brother you’d spend years of your life with. Matthew walked into his bathroom, grabbing you a warm washcloth and a clean shirt from his closet. He got back into his room, glancing at the way you were looking around his room with his sheets over your chest unsure of whether or not you should leave. Matthew leans down, pressing a kiss to your lips, “I want you to stay.”

“You don’t have to let me-” You start to protest, a weird feeling in your chest you couldn’t quite describe. You were a relationship type, hook ups weren’t your playing field and you knew Matthew lived by them. You never forgot it either, the way he slugged back a beer and looked Brady and yourself dead in the eyes and told you he swore he wasn’t built to last more than a night. Matthew chuckles, cleaning you up and throwing his shirt over your frame. He laid down next to you, pulling you against his chest and kissing your shoulder.

“I want you to stay here,” Matthew assures you, smiling wide when you tucked yourself into his side.

Hey Matty?

Yeah?

Don’t tell Brady about this.

Secret’s safe with me Y/N.

#matthew tkachuk #matthew tkachuk imagine #nhl imagine #nhl imagines

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yoonjinkooked · 3 years ago

Text

Our Story | Act I - The Falling (knj)

Act I - The Falling (Part 2)

Pairing: Namjoon x (f) reader

Genre: Fluff, smut, angst

AU: strangers to friends to lovers and much more than that which I cannot spoil just yet.

Synopsis: The story of you and Kim Namjoon, and the change he brought into your life. It’s fun, it’s exciting, it’s hopeful, and it’s also exactly the opposite.

Warnings for this chapter: Namjoon is cooking, Namjoon is adorable, reader is smitten as AF (i think that’s it so far)

WC: 5.1k

Series Masterlist Act I Playlist Special thanks to: @joyfulhopelox for this beautiful banner and holding my hand every step of the way, the two writing groups I am a part of that are always full of support and honestly, f-ing Taylor Swift, for an abundance of inspiration.

Day 9

“No, no, no, Namjoon!” you try to warn him the very second you realize what he’s about to do. He laughs, cackles almost, as he ignores your warnings and feels around his pockets, looking for a quarter to use. “Namjoon, please don’t,” you laugh at his antics, despite trying to stop him. “That shit is rigged to make you lose, everyone knows that!”

“Don’t be so pessimistic Y/N,” he chastises you in a teasing way, to which you scoff as you observe the shining machine before you. It’s one of those carnival claw things, where you are supposed to be able to catch a stuffed toy. A complete waste of money, in your opinion, but since it's only a matter of quarters, Namjoon’s quarters nonetheless, you’ll give it a pass.

“Your optimism is both amusing and frightening,” you comment as you watch him bending his fingers in preparation for what’s to come.

“I think charming is the word you're looking for,” he laughs, giving you a quick wink over his shoulder. “And once this works, impressive will be the appropriate adjective.”

“Alright, Mr. Perfect, give it your best,” you laugh, watching as he finally starts his chase. You stay silent, not wanting him to lose focus (as if this is something of actual importance) and observe as he navigates the mechanical claw towards the corner, slowly moving it down towards the pile of toys. He doesn’t seem to be aiming at a particular one, which may come in handy, as he can simply go for something close and easy.

Against your better judgment, you hold your breath as the claw closes in on a small Minion plushy - the silence between you and Namjoon’s laser focus makes this seem as if it’s life or death and not an attempt to get a one dollar plushie. Slowly but surely, he moves the joystick and you bite your lip when the claw swings left to right, making it seem as if the minion is about to fall out of its grip at any second.

But it doesn’t. Little by little, carefully and with what you’d describe as surgical precision, Namjoon navigates the claw towards the opening, lowers it and in what seems like the plot twist of a century, drops the Minion right into the correct opening.

Next thing you know, the both of you are shouting in triumph and when he pulls you into a bear hug, you return it gladly, laughing at the absurdity of the entire situation and his utter joy on something so little, so irrelevant, but somehow still so special.

He holds you for a moment too long, but you don’t mind it one bit. It may very well be too long on paper, but at this point, you would have let him hold you for hours. His embrace is strong and warm, the scent of his cologne being as comforting as your favorite candle. If it were up to you, you would have stayed in that hug for hours.

You can see it on his face too, how behind that beaming, dimpled smile lies reluctance to step away from you. He does so regardless, reaching for his prize. Saying nothing, he simply extends the hand to you, offering you the plushy. “For me?” you ask through laughter - why you are surprised, you don’t know. It was so easy to assume that he would try to win something for you. As much as this isn’t officially called a date, it is a date, and dating normal, kind men obviously brings surprises in the form of plushies. You won’t be surprised one bit if he brings you flowers for the first official date.

“Of course it’s for you,” he laughs as you take the toy from him. The thing had seen better days, that much is sure. As expected for these games, it’s a knockoff, but it’s cute regardless and even more than that, it holds much more meaning than one plushy probably should. “Why else do you think I’d do that?”

“Because you are unable to back away from a challenge?” you suggest.

“Okay, yes,” he admits through laughter. “But most of it is for you to see me as charming and impressive.”

“You do realize I would have seen you like that even without a stuffed toy, right?” you ask, perhaps putting one too many cards on the table. With anyone else, literally anyone else, you would hesitate more, wait longer, but there is something about Namjoon that encompases you in a warm feeling of being unable to make a wrong decision.

“That’s nice to hear,” he mumbles, looking down at his feet, turning all shy on you again. It’s borderline adorable, if you’re being honest. And refreshing, as it’s a true change to be around someone who isn’t cocky. Oh, Namjoon can be confident alright, he proved that much the first night when he had approached you. But he’s not cocky, nor does he treat you as anything less than equal. You are whipped and nothing has even officially started. “I do hope you like the plushy though, I didn’t exactly have the luxury of picking a different one.”

“Oh, it’s perfect,” you immediately reassure him, despite not seeing a single one of the Minion movies or knowing anything else about them other than their looks and limited speaking abilities. “Coffee on me? As a way to say thank you?” you suggest, as the last thing you wanted to do right now is to part ways with him.

You’ve agreed on a nice afternoon walk, the first time the two of you meet without any alcohol in the mix - the first time you meet as just Namjoon and Y/N, not drinking buddies who had met in the randomest way possible. You don’t want today to end with just the walk - you have planless hours ahead of you and you’d want nothing more than to spend them with him. A coffee is the perfect excuse - it’ll give you more time but won’t be overbearing or clingy, which is definitely not an impression that you want to give.

“Coffee sounds perfect,” he agrees, dimple smile and all.

Day 13

“I’m confused as to why you insisted on cooking,” you admit through laughter as you watch him scramble around his kitchen. Seated at the bar that separates the kitchen from the living room, you have a front row seat to the disaster that is Namjoon attempting to cook a full course meal. When he had invited you for dinner at his place, you somehow didn’t imagine that you would watch a cooking show as it goes - not that you’re complaining. It’s cute, if you’re being honest, but seeing his skills with a knife, it’s also a little worrisome. “If you need me to help you out, just let me know,” you suggest for what feels like the tenth time.

“No, no, no,” he insists, frantic and breathless. It’s clear that he doesn’t want to give in even though it’s painfully obvious that he indeed does need help. Again, it’s equal parts adorable and worrisome. You admire his determination but are genuinely worried for his safety. “I can do this. It’s a simple recipe, I have instructions, all is under control.”

You smile at his excuses, smile at him, as you lean on the bar and continue watching him. You have a feeling that you could stick around like this forever. It’s like watching an elephant in a ceramics shop - he is way in above his head but he is still trying to make it work. He’s going above and beyond, just for you, all while you would have been perfectly happy with a simple takeout or even frozen pizza, maybe some random snacks. Actually, you would have been happy without anything as long as you are in his company. But it’s so endearing to see him making an actual effort - it brings a smile to your face, a smile that feels like it hasn’t left your face whenever you’re in his company.

“If you change your mind, I’m right here,” you remind him. As much as you are content with just sitting here with your glass of wine, you don’t want a simple recipe to drive him to the brink of insanity while he juggles between the pans and multiple ingredients. You’re here because of him, not for food.

“Trust me, if I feel a fire is approaching, you’ll be the first to know,” he laughs nervously, and you purse your lips in an effort not to laugh.

You leave him be, thinking that maybe silence is what he needs - even though every now and then, he’d be the one to break it with a question that isn’t cooking related, just to make sure that he is keeping the conversation going. The cooking itself lasted entirely way too long but the food was done, no fires had started, with no injuries, neither severe nor minor. It ended with a smiling and proud Namjoon sitting next to you.

“So?” he asks, on the edge of his seat as he watches you take the first bite. “Is it any good?”

He had made pasta carbonara and a simple salad - something that is fairly easy to make, even for a rookie. And while you are incredibly proud of his effort, you are a little bit apprehensive as you chew on the pasta. The dish is entirely way too salty, the pasta is not cooked thoroughly and you literally can’t taste anything other than parmesan and… salt.

“It’s…” you start, trying to find the right words, to walk the line between insulting him and before complimenting him too much to make him realize that you’re lying. “It’s pretty good, I think. I’m hardly a food critic, but it’s pretty good, especially for a first attempt,” you explain. That’s okay, isn’t it? You’re not praising it too much, but you’re also not criticizing his effort - it’s the perfect middle ground that you are looking for. However, Namjoon’s eyes narrow at you in suspicion and as quickly as humanly possible, he takes a bite out of his own plate.

“Oh my god!” he half-yells, half-mumbles, eyes widening at the taste. “It’s disgusting!”

“No, it’s not that bad!” you try to reassure him, and you actually mean it. It’s not good, no, but it’s also not even close to the worst dish you’ve ever eaten. “I’ve had worse, plenty of times. You should see the way my sister cooks - this is nothing, it’s perfectly fine Namjoon.”

“It tastes like the sea,” he says, grimacing as he swallows it. “I’m a failure.”

“No, you’re not,” you chuckle, reaching out to rub his back in comfort. He looks dejected and properly sad, and it doesn’t feel right to you seeing him this way, even if he is being a little over dramatic. “You made a huge effort. Joon, you’re not a chef, you own a bookstore. You can’t do it all. And you made a decent meal with the very little knowledge you had. Is it the tastiest thing I ever had? I wish I could say it is, but it’s not. But I am very much happy to finish it. The effort is all that really matters.”

“I just wanted to make a nice dinner to celebrate your new job,” he sighs, frowning down at the plate in front of him. “I should have just taken you out to a nice restaurant or something.”

“Oh hush,” you chuckle, smiling when he looks at you in confusion. “It’s perfectly fine and I’m very thankful. It’s the company I’m here for, not food. And if you wanna throw this away and just order a pizza, it works for me. I’ll gladly finish it, though.”

Two bites later, he decides that the time has come for the change of plans and the evening heads in a completely different direction.

“You need to come down to the bookstore sometime,” he tells you in a conspiratorial voice, as if the bookstore is a secret that only the two of you know about. You laugh, both as his expression and at his push to keep meeting you - not to mention, you’ve had quite a bit of wine at this point. Sitting on the floor of his living room, on your second bottle, with an empty pizza box between you, you are smack in the middle of the best date of your life. Even if you’re not sure if you can call it a date, at all, not yet at least. “I think you’ll like it there.” “I’m sure I will,” you easily admit. “Although, I will be sure not to share my literature opinions with you any more because I am still slowly recovering from the argument we had last weekend,” you give him a pointed look, reminding him of it.

“How can you not like Mr. Darcy?” he wonders for the nth time, still in complete disbelief. You laugh, realizing that not even days were enough to make him realize that something like this is completely irrelevant. Like pretty much everything about him, you find it incredibly charming - how he has such strong opinions on certain books and characters and while he respects yours, he is still pushing his opinions, albeit gently. Not in a “mansplaining” type of way, but more in an ‘I can’t believe you think that’ kind of way. When it comes from someone else, you’ll admit it, you do find it annoying. From him, however… Nothing really seems too bad. Everything that he said, everything about him, the man that you are slowly getting to know - all of it seems like it’s telling you that the decision you’ve made that night when he asked you to drink with him was the best possible one you’ve ever made.

“Don’t you ever ask me about Gatsby,” you warn him in a whisper, laughing loudly as you see his expression turn to one of even bigger disbelief. “Look, I love bad characters. I love reading about them, I love watching them in the movies. Having bad characters is good. My… dislike of them doesn’t affect whether I enjoyed the book or not. Daisy’s an ass, and so is Darcy. And I enjoyed both books. End of.”

“No wonder you’re a furniture designer and not a bookstore owner,” he teases you, to which you just roll your eyes. “I’m so happy you could find a stable job this quickly,” he changes the subject, and you can feel the honesty oozing out of his every word. He really is that kind of man - the type to be genuinely happy when something good happens to someone they care for. Those are few and far in-between. “I hope it’ll all go as well as you deserve it to.”

“There are ups, there are downs,” you shrug, finally embracing the roller coaster that is life, now that your trajectory is up. “If I didn’t find something by the end of the month, I likely would have looked into starting something on my own. Technically, I already do that, only I refer to it as freelancing,” you chuckle, remembering how just last month you were busy carving a wooden table for your friend’s wedding. You don’t always do the actual making part yourself, as you’re the one who imagines, draws, organizes, but when it’s for someone special, you put in the effort.

“I’d love to have an Y/N original in my bookstore, if I’m being honest,” he admits.

“Oh, you will,” you promise him without hesitation. Whether it’s for the bookstore or for his place, you truly do want to make something for him. And you will likely make it yourself, too.

“Now, how about you come around to the bookstore this week?” he asks, giving you the look - sideways smile and a lifted brow. “If for nothing else, than to see the vibes, so that the Y/N original fits in well.”

“Namjoon, are you asking me on a date without asking me on a date?” you ask, pursing your lips to stop yourself from smiling when he laughs at your question. “Again?” you point out, because you both know that tonight wasn’t just a casual meet up. Neither one of you are acting as if this is going to be just friendship and nothing more. Yes, you’re still at the very start of it all, but you’ve seen one another enough times to be able to call it what it is.

Dating. Not a relationship, not love, not the happy ever after. Just… dating. Starting fresh, with someone new. The feeling of elation, of hope, engulfing you completely.

“Yes, that’s exactly what I’m doing.”

He doesn’t beat around the bush, not anymore. With the way you’re seated on the floor, your backs leaned against the sofa, he turns to you and for a moment, he says nothing. He stays silent, just looking at you with his signature dimpled smile. And after a second or two, you find yourself smiling back. A proper, big smile, the one that makes your face hurt but it feels so overwhelming, you need to show it. He makes you feel good, and the experiences behind you have taught you that when you run into people like that, you need to keep them around.

“So, this was supposed to be a date, too?” you ask, despite already knowing the answer.

“Yes and I am so sorry it failed,” he apologizes, closing his eyes and shaking his head. “I’m not sure how it went to shit, I followed the recipe to a T.”

“It didn’t fail,” you laugh, making the next step in the form of reaching for his hand. He doesn’t flinch, nor react in any way - except his hand. He turns it around palm up and your fingers intersect. And it feels right. Warm. “I had the best time tonight. And I’ll gladly go on a date with you. Multiple dates. Even if we don’t call them that.”

“Isn’t that what we’ve been doing already?” he asks, teasing.

“The fact that I am keeping that damn minion pushy on my sofa is proof enough, I think,” you admit, joining in on his laugh. You truly did keep it there, finding it as a cute reminder of that day. It’s easy to keep it there, even if it doesn’t fit the decor, when it makes you smile.

You like Namjoon. You really do, to the point of thinking that maybe, just maybe, you could end up falling for him. He makes it easy - good nature, sense of humor, smarts and looks to match. You were pretty dang lucky when he played his chances and approached you that night. And you’re pretty dang lucky you took your chance, too. Saw him for what he was and not a sleazeball that was trying to take advantage of a semi-drunk woman. That night, for whatever reason, the stars worked in your favor, and they have ever since.

“Let’s see where this takes us, then?” he asks and you’re immediately nodding your head.

“Let’s.”

Day 20

“Do you need any help?” he smugly asks, peeking from the end of a bookshelf. You smile at his suggestion, knowing that you’d rather do anything else than get into another book debate with him. He is a perfect man but good lord, his opinions about novels will always be firm and unchangeable, no matter what you say or do. And honestly, you like that about him.

“Just looking around,” you tease him, smirking. “I’m actually looking to see if I can find something for my sister, her birthday is just around the corner. She’s never been much of a reader but it’s never too late to change that, right?” you wonder.

“Absolutely not, but if she’s not much of a reader, I’d advise against you browsing the Russian classics,” he points out. Grimacing, you nod, realizing that Dostoyevsky might be too big of a bite for her. “No self-help, no cheesy romances?”

“Are you judging her tastes based on mine?” you laugh, impressed by how accurate his reading of you is, given how you’ve largely avoided talks about literature, due to incredibly differing opinions. He’s right - never, ever, no self-help, or cheesy romances.

“Guilty as charged,” he confesses. “Is she more into the Nicholas Sparks shit?”

“Oh, 100%,” you answer. “Like, she really is. I think she forced me to watch The Notebook too many times, it has to be double digits by now.”

“Yikes. My condolences,” he responds, smiling when you start laughing. “It does make it easier for us, though. I”ll find something for you, just give me a moment.”

Before you can stop him, he’s running off, aiming for whatever direction the çheesy romance novels dwell in. You can’t help but smile, seeing him acting like he’s on a top secret mission. And in a way, he is. Books are his thing, this bookstore is his life. You’re honored and happy that you get to see this side of him, too. You can imagine spending more lunch breaks here with him from now on. It was his idea, one that you had gladly agreed to.

Neither one of you is making an actual effort to hide their interest. Ever since the dinner at his place, you have found an excuse to meet almost every single day - whether it’s a classic, oh I’m in your neighborhood, or a proper date, you saw him all the time. And by some miracle, you still have topics to discuss. Not a single part of him, of this, is dull in any way - everything is an overwhelming amount of exciting, new and just… right.

As he jogs around in search of the perfect book, you walk around some more, running your hand against the spines of the books he had carefully laid out. You like this place, the entire design and organization of it. He did a good job and every piece of furniture, every shelf is in what you would describe as its proper place. It’s as carefully organized as his apartment, and if it weren’t for the distraction in the form of him, you could see yourself spending some time in the reading corner, either working or reading one of the classics he’d recommend.

But you know that your eyes would stray from whatever is in front of you and search for him, just like they are now. God, how could it happen this fast? It’s been… What, not even three weeks? And you are riding on the waves of happiness, embracing the butterflies and just feeling giddy, 24/7. Focusing on the possible negatives, even if they are as simple as how fast this has happened, would be doing both of you a major disservice.

“I found something good!” he yells from whatever corner he was hidden in and in a matter of seconds, you can hear the patter of his feet as he jogs to where you are, three books in hand and a spark in his eyes. “Any one of these will be a proper home run. I’m sure your sister will like them and two out of three are now on a discount, and since you know a guy who knows a guy, and I am the guy, you can actually walk out with a 100% discount,” he talks super fast, almost too fast for you to catch every word he utters, but you don’t mind it. You can just grin up at him, wanting to close the distance between you and be the reason behind his smile. “And I don’t want to hear anything about how-”

He is taller than you are, so it takes a bit of effort from your side - on the tips of your toes and keeping a hold of the collar of his navy blue button up, you close the distance between the two of you and shut him up with a kiss.

Never in your life did you think you’d ever do that to someone. It was always something so fake and fictional, a thing that doesn’t happen in real life, a rom-com move that would be so idiotic in real life - or in the types of romance novels your sister loves and you hate. And it’s not. With Namjoon, it’s not. Shutting him up with a kiss is something he embraces wholeheartedly, dropping his precious books as if they are nothing. The sound of them hitting the ground makes you flinch, alarmed, but before you can pull away from him, you can feel his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to him. Chest to chest, the two of you stand there in an empty bookstore, with Namjoon shamelessly deepening the kiss. He tastes like bitter coffee and mint - so classic, so bookish, so Namjoon.

The feel of his lips against yours, his arms around your waist as he presses you closer, his distinct taste and the smell of the books around you paired with a few unlit scented candles - it’s what the definition of perfection is. If you were to hand pick and create this moment with complete free reign, it couldn’t possibly be more perfect than it is now.

The tell-tale sound of a bell chiming above the opening door is as loud as a bomb; the two of you detatch immediately, with you going as far as walking a few steps back, putting on a safe distance between you, trying to act as casual as possible in front of the customer.

It’s a young man in his 20s, who gives the two of you a knowing look. You have a perfect excuse of looking away - the books Namjoon had dropped earlier were just waiting to be picked up and taken care of properly. Namjoon on the other hand, had to face the dude and offer him help, no matter how red in the face he is - and he is. Is it the kiss or being caught in the middle of it, you don’t know. You’re just thanking your lucky stars that you have an excuse to turn your back to them, lips pursed to stop yourself from laughing.

It was so perfect - movie worthy perfect. Right up until that dude walked in. But somehow, that was very you. From the unconventional meeting, ridiculous gifts, not calling dating what it was and failed cooking attempts, having your first kiss interrupted sounds very on point.

You are still pretending to be looking around the store by the time the cash register rings and you don’t move from where you stand in front of an English Classic’s shelf, not even when you hear that damn doorbell ringing again. You say nothing, and neither does Namjoon. But the feel of his chest pressed against your back startles you in the best of ways. As he puts his arms around yours, you put your hand over his, the one that isn’t holding the throwaway books meant to be for your sister. Leaning back into him, you feel him nuzzle his face against your hair and every single part of you feels like it’s about to turn liquid.

“That dude has the worst timing,” he whispers into your ear, the action making you shiver - in a way that he must notice too, as he holds you just a little bit tighter.

“Considering our track record, I’d say his timing was perfect,” you joke, feeling his chest shake with laughter against you. “I mean, when it comes to us, something is bound to go to shit. At least it wasn’t someone we know, considering how happily unlucky we are.”

“Happily unlucky,” he repeats, his voice full of softness, comfort. “I like that phrase. It makes me think that no matter how bad our luck gets, we always end up in a good place.”

“I like it too,” you admit. “Me and you are a series of happily unlucky moments.”

“I really like you, Y/N,” he tells you, suddenly turning your somewhat joking conversation into a more serious direction. But you, you who would usually feel a simmer of panic burning up in you at hearing those words, you don’t feel it at all. The you who is the one who tends to run away is now letting him embrace you, both with his arms and his words. “I may not have been looking for you, not with a purpose at least, but I’m so glad I found you.”

“I like you, too,” you admit without an ounce of hesitation, knowing that you’re in somewhat safe hands - very literally. “I’m glad I didn’t chase you away that night.”

“And I’m glad I had the balls to approach to begin with,” he laughs, once again shaking your body along with his at the action. “Have coffee with me tomorrow, hm?”

“Of course,” you answer. It’s a given at this point, no matter what he offers, no matter how crazy hectic your day gets, you will make some space for him there. Even if it’s just to run downtown and visit him here, you’ll do it. Especially now, when your new office space is barely a few minutes walk away from his bookstore.

He kisses you on the cheek, a quick and sweet kiss, but one that makes your insides turn over again - they never stop with the rhythmic gymnastics when he’s around, apparently. He lets you go, to go to his place, behind the counter and you follow, the three books in hand.

“You know, despite the 100% discount, I think I need to sleep on this,” you say, pointing at the books in your hand before placing them gently on the counter before you. Namjoon is grinning, realizing where you’re going with this. “I guess I’ll just have to stop by again.”

“Ugh, what a shame,” he plays along, pretending to feel bad for you. “If you wish, I can keep them for you until you make a decision. You know, in case they sell out.”

“Definitely,” you answer, grinning like a fool. “I guess I’ll stop by this week again to see what I will decide on.”

“It’ll be my pleasure to help you again, Miss.”

“Goodbye, kind sir,” you laugh as you walk towards the store door, feeling his eyes burning your back. Your face positively hurts, but you don’t care. Pain from smiling too hard is the best, most enjoyable pain that you have ever felt.

Outside, you notice him still looking at you through the glass window, dimpled smile and all. Unable to stop yourself, you wave at him, before all but running away, giggling like a schoolgirl in love. Which is pretty much exactly what you are at this point.

#namjoon fanfic #thebtswritersclub #bts smut #namjoon smut #namjoon fluff #bangtanarmynet

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randomshyperson · 4 years ago

Note

Hi!! Hope you're doing good and drinking water :) May i request something? 😁 I was listening to "the 1" by Taylor Swift (queen) and got me thinking about a Wanda X Reader story where maybe idk they dated in high school/college but ended cause whatever reason but they never actually stopped liking eachother (yknow, like the song) and then they just meet somewhere and get to talk and you know... happy ending lol But only if you like the idea really. Have a good one!

Hello anon! Here it is, hope you like it. It’s short but is sweet, i hope you like it.

Wanda Maximoff x Reader - The One

Summary: Prompt based “A story where Reader and Wanda broke up and never stopped loving each other. Inspired by the song “The 1″ from Taylor Swift.

Words: 2.531k ///// Read on AO3

Warnings: None.

Marks: @mionemymind @wandamaximoffpuppy

Wanda Maximoff came into your life during autumn.

You were both in the same art history class, and she lent you a pen.

All it took was two dates, and you were completely in love. Unfortunately, as quickly as it started, your relationship burned out.

You wish you had a big plot justification, with betrayals and twists and turns to justify to your friends your emotional misery when it ended, but the only reason was the complete emotional immaturity you had.

There were fights, and accusations, and so much jealousy. And you wish so much that you had gotten over it, but you couldn't. And then Wanda was gathering the clothes that she had in your dormitory, and throwing the key at you.

You swore you wouldn't cry anymore, because there were no more tears after so many weeks, but you kept going. Until all that was left was the bitter feeling that you had ruined everything and lost the most important person in your life.

It had been more than two years since you two had broken up, and you still had the number saved on your cell phone with a heart emoji, even though the conversation had been archived a long time ago. And then you were walking out of the main building at NYU, and your friend Natasha Romanoff called out to you as she walked quickly toward you.

- Hey, girl! - she said with a smile. - How are you?

You shrugged as you walked with her around the campus toward the secondary building, where the Philosophy classrooms were.

- I’m surviving. - You joke with a weak smile, Nat looked at you worriedly, but you shook your head, trying to reassure her. - And how are you doing?

- Fine, I think. - She says, entwining your arms. - I miss you, but things are fine.

You nod, looking forward. You knew that you had been absent in your friends' lives, simply because it seemed that things no longer made much sense since you were no longer with Wanda.

- Did you hear about Bucky and Sam? - she asked, and you let out a sigh.

- Yes, I... I don't know if I'm going to make it.

- Ah, Y/N, please. - She says. - It won't be the same if you are not there.

Natasha was talking about your friends' engagement party, which you were invited to a week ago. You hesitated, because all of Bucky and Sam's friends were invited. And that included Wanda.

You let out a sigh.

- I will make an effort to be there, I promise. - You assure her with a smile.

- You don't want to see Wanda, do you? - Nat asks. And you look at the ground. - Look, I just... I never really understood why you two broke up. But maybe it will be good to see her, you know. Maybe you two need to talk after all.

You shrug, feeling the familiar sadness take over your chest every time you think of Wanda.

- Let's talk about something else okay? - You ask her with a weak smile and Natasha nods, changing the subject as you two walk along the campus.

//-//

You straightened your clothes before knocking on the door. It had been almost two weeks since you had spoken to Natasha, and the day of the party had finally arrived. You saw many cars parked outside the Barnes residence, and were not surprised when one of the family friends answered the door instead of the owners.

You smiled and greeted the gentleman, saying that you were a friend of the grooms, and he smiled back when he let you in. You overheard someone say that it was better to leave the door open because of the number of guests, and you let out a small laugh.

The house was full, and it took a few minutes for you to find Bucky, who looked extremely happy. He smiled slightly surprised when he saw you.

- Hey, you're here! - he said, walking over to you. - It's so good to see you!

Bucky hugged you tight and you laughed lightly, saying that it was very good to see him too.

- How are things going? - you asked as you broke the embrace. - Are you feeling anxious?

Bucky laughed, putting his hands in his pockets.

- Everything is working well. My parents are helping me and Sammy to organize everything. - he says, smiling. - And damn, yes. I can't wait for the ceremony.

You laugh, nodding in understanding. You talk for a few more minutes until Sam comes to check on the groom.

- Wow, look at you Wilson! - You exclaim when you see him, and he opens his arms toward you, grinning contently. You hug each other tightly. - It's good to see you, my friend.

- Yeah, it's great to see you too, stranger. - He smiles back, and then you part. - Glad you could make it.

- I couldn't miss the first wedding of the group. - You joked and made them laugh.

And then they were talking about the preparations for the wedding, and the family members who had come from far away, and you were smiling and laughing at the stories. But everything seemed to slow down when your gaze focused on someone behind Bucky, the only person who always had the ability to capture your full attention.

Wanda had just walked through the front door, and was taking off her coat. You barely noticed Pietro standing beside her, as your heart started racing at seeing her again. Sam called out to you a few times, until you blinked and looked at him.

- Wow, you really haven't changed at all. - he teased. - Three years and you are still completely out of breath when you see her.

You blushed, telling him to shut up, but Bucky and Sam just giggled. And then you swallowed hard, because Wanda was looking around and her gaze met yours.

Your gas in surprise, and you told the couple in front of you that you needed a drink, then you rushed to escape the room.

You ended up on the balcony, trying to recover from the intensity of the previous moment, completely affected by seeing Wanda again.

You thought it was the best to greet the people you knew at the party, and after talking to Clint and his girlfriend Laura, and also to Steve, Tony and Bruce, you made your way to the family circles. Bucky's parents and siblings were very friendly, and Sam's family was very warm, and they all hugged you and smiled. And then you were walking around the house again, and Nat approached you, two drinks in her hands, and one of them she handed to you.

- You really came. - She said with a smile. - Bucky just told me and I didn't believe it.

- The faith you have in me is touching. - You sneered with irony and she laughed before taking a sip of her drink. You looked at your own glass suspiciously.

- Is this champagne? - you asked, and she nodded, making you sigh. You put the glass on the balcony table near you. - Thanks but I'm driving.

Nat grumbled in understanding.

- You're running away from her, aren't you? - She remarked when she noticed your gaze wandering around the room.

- Is it that obvious?

Nat laughed lightly.

- I suppose you are going to be uncomfortable for the next few minutes, since I just told her I was coming to talk to you and invite her to join me. - She tells you and you turn your face to her sharply with a surprised expression.

- Wait what?

But Nat is smiling past you and then you feel your body tense up as Wanda's voice sounds behind your back. Nat is saying something about how nice it is that everyone is together, while you turn around and you’re probably staring, but you can't react to having Wanda in front of you. Just as beautiful as she was three years ago.

- Hi. - She said a moment later looking up at you, a slight blush on her cheeks. It took a gentle nudge from Nat's elbow on your rib for you to react.

- Hi. - you exclaimed surprised and slightly uncomfortable. - How... How are you?

Wanda smiled awkwardly.

- Good, I... i'm good. And you? - she asked hesitantly. You nodded frantically, trying to smile.

- Good, good. I... Good.

- Jesus. - You heard Natasha say as she looked at the two of you with a frown. - Okay. I'll put our names in the gymkhana, and you can continue with whatever this is by yourselves.

You scratched your neck uncomfortably as Natasha hurried to leave.

- So... how are things? - Wanda asked, putting her hands in her pockets.

Ignoring your current anxiety, you assumed a thoughtful expression for a few seconds.

- Things are fine. I’m... I... I'm graduating. - You tell clumsily, running your hands through your hair. - Yeah, I... I'm graduating in a few weeks.

- Wow, that’s actually really cool. - She comments with a smile.

- I think so. - You say, laughing nervously. - What about you, Wands, how are you? Are you still studying?

Wanda blushes at the way you call her, looking away. You barely notice the nickname escaping your lips. But then she is smiling, so you don't notice much beyond that.

- Yes, I still have a year to go, but I'm doing well. - she says. You nod in understanding, but then Pietro is joining you two, a smile on his face.

- Wow, it's really good to see you Y/N. - He remarks as soon as he reaches you two and hugs you. You laugh lightly.

- It's good to see you too, Pietro. - you say when you let go. - I like the beard, by the way.

- Thanks, I'm trying to look older. - He comments with a cocky smile, and you laugh, ignoring the nervousness of having Wanda looking right at you. - I didn't know you would be here today, I heard you were going back to California.

- Oh, yes, I... I am. - You say clumsily, gazing at Wanda quickly. - After I graduate, I'm going back home. I don't really have anything to keep me here.

- That's a shame, really. - Pietro says and you try to focus on his face and not on Wanda's frown. - But I hope you will keep in touch with everyone by skype at least.

He jokes last, and you laugh, nodding. And then he starts asking you about college and your parents, and you answer politely, trying to ignore the nervousness in your stomach that has settled with Wanda's attentive look on you.

- Pietro, would you get me something to drink, please? - Wanda asked after a moment, and you and Pietro looked at her in surprise, but she just smiled innocently, and her brother grumbled, before nodding and leaving. - Can we talk for a moment?

You blinked in confusion, but agree. Wanda took your hand next, and you bit the inside of your cheek, feeling your face flush as she pulled you around the yard, toward a farther area.

When she stopped walking, she let go of your hand, and turned around to face you, looking nervous and a bit anxious.

- Are you really leaving? - She asked with a almost sorrowful expression.

You straightened your posture, frowning slightly.

- Yes, I... Wanda, what is it?

- Okay, I’m.. I'm going to say this once, because I have to, and then we'll go back to our life as before, okay? - She said hurriedly, closing her eyes for a moment as she took a deep breath while you just stare her. - I'm still in love with you. And I know we broke up two years ago, but I just couldn't move on. And I guess a part of me never will. - She confesses and you feel the air escape from your lungs. - And I need you to know this before you leave, because I almost couldn't come to this party because I knew you would be here. And I can't believe that we were this intense and amazing thing only just for me. - She says last. But you are in shock, so Wanda swallows dryly. - Damn, I'm... I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said anything and…

- I love you. - You confess interrupting her, listening to your heart pounding in your ears.

- W-what?

- I love you. - You repeat breathlessly as you are moving forward and kissing Wanda firmly. She stumbles back in surprise, but you keep your hands on her face, until she sighs in delight and kisses you back with the same intensity. It feels as good as you remember, but eventually you part breathlessly and start talking with your forehead touching. - I'm sorry I ruined things between us. I was stupid, childish and a bloody idiot. But I'm completely in love with you and i have always been.

Wanda lets out a surprised laugh, her eyes filled with tears. And then she kisses you again.

- God, we are a complete disaster. - She comments as you separate, making you laugh lightly. And then she swallows dryly, stroking your face with her thumbs. - What are we going to do now?

You smile, hugging her waist.

- I'm not going anywhere if you ask me to stay. - You tell her, making her sigh with surprise and happiness.

- Be my girlfriend, then. - She asks, and you let out a giggle.

- I'd love to. - You say, and then back away a little. - We'll make it work this time, Wanda. I'm going to love you the right way now.

Wanda nods in understanding, looking at you tenderly.

- You have always loved me the right way. - she says. - We just didn't know how to show it properly.

You sigh.

- I missed you. - You say, bringing your foreheads together.

- I missed you too. - She breathlessly retorts before kissing you again.

The kiss intensified in the next second, and you ended up pushing Wanda against the outer wall of the house, and she sighed into your mouth. God, you missed her taste. Then she sighed against your lips, and you slowed down, because you are literally in an engagement party.

When you parted, you let out a breathless giggle.

- We should get back to the party. - Wanda comments, her face close to yours. You grumble in agreement, before kissing her again, your tongue running slowly and sensually across her mouth, making a warmth rise in the pit of your stomach.

- Wow. - You say breathlessly a moment later, breaking the kiss for breath. Wanda's hands are dangerously low. She lets out a breathless chuckle, her face flushed. You swallow dryly, clearing your throat. - We'd better go before I can't stop.

Wanda smiles, nodding her head in agreement. And then you took a step back, and it was easier to breathe and think clearly.

When you returned to the party, holding hands, Natasha stared at you two and sighed, taking a twenty-dollar bill from her pocket and handing it to Pietro, who had a smug smile on his face. She complained that she had bet that you two would only get back together after the party, while Pietro had bet that it would be during. You and Wanda's faces reddened, but you laughed at the story.

Two years later, you visited Bucky and Sam, but now, the wedding invitation in your hand was yours.

#wanda maximoff #wanda x reader #wanda x y/n #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x you #wandaxreader #wandaxyou #wandamaximoffxreader #marvel imagines #wandamaximoff x reader

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nerdzzone · 4 years ago

Text

Once Bitten - Twice Shy

Summary: Raising a child is hard. Raising a child with one of Hollywood’s biggest stars is even harder. And raising a child with one of Hollywood’s biggest stars who you’re not actually in a relationship with is even harder still.

One of the challenges of sharing custody is sharing holidays which is something that Whitney Taylor found herself struggling with in the December of 2019. The prospect of spending Christmas without her son was dismaying, but the complications that come with the alternative might be even harder to face.

Chris Evans x OFC

Note: Thank you to everyone who has read, liked or commented on this story! I appreciate the support.

This was the entirety of my original plot, it was just supposed to be a one shot when I started writing it, but it took on a life of it’s own. There’s quite a bit more to come now so I hope no one is too disappointed by the way this ends! I’ve started working on the sequel and have it all mapped out, but I probably won’t post it until it’s mostly finished like I did with this one. So, keep your eyes peeled and please let me know your thoughts!

Part Two

—-

Part Three

26. 12. 19

Waking up, it took a few moments for the memories of the night before to come back to me. When they did, I was filled with relief that I was alone and Chris was no where to be seen. My head throbbed, partially from the alcohol I'd consumed and partially because of the regrets that were filling my mind.

How could we be so stupid? So reckless? How could we risk everything that we'd built for Grayson just for a few moments of relief? How would I be able to push my feelings for Chris aside again after sharing such intimacy with him?

It broke my heart to make the decision to be friends the first time we found ourselves in this situation, how could I be foolish enough to put myself through that again?

I turned my head and groaned into the pillow, a much more distressed, melancholy groan than the ones leaving my lips the night before. I felt like an idiot and I was dreading facing Chris.

After taking another moment to chastise myself for my bad choices, I checked my phone to see the time and was shocked. It was already almost nine thirty and I hadn't heard a peep from the rest of the house. Unfortunately, that meant I didn't have time to mope around in bed, puzzling out what to do.

So, I took just enough time to decide that I needed to make a quick exit before getting up to get myself ready to leave.

When I got to the kitchen, it was surprisingly quiet. None of the men or children were anywhere to be seen as Lisa, Shanna and Carly tidied up the dishes from the breakfast that I'd missed. Apparently, there was another snow storm forecast to start by the early afternoon and everyone had headed out into the snow as soon as they'd finished eating to start shovelling so that we could all leave before it hit.

I was relieved by their quick action because even if I had to shovel the whole driveway by myself and then drive home in a blizzard, I was not sticking around for another night.

Lisa had tried to convince me to let her cook me breakfast, but my stomach was in too many knots to even think about food. I politely declined and settled for a banana and a cup of coffee, chatting with the women as I ate. It distracted me for a while as I tried to shut off some of the noise in my brain, but once I was finished, I knew I had to face the music and head outside.

By the time I got out there, Chris, Scott and their brother-in-law were already halfway down the driveway which was an impressive feat considering how long it was. I waved to them as I put my bag in my car before heading towards where the children were playing in the front yard.

"Mama!" Grayson cheered as I approached them. "Look! We're building a snowman!"

I looked at the sloppy pile of snow they were assembling and smiled.

"Wow, I can see that! Great job, guys!"

He grinned as he ran over to me and threw his arms around my legs. It was a feeling that never got old and I leaned down to squeeze him closer, trying to ignore the wave of guilt that washed over me. He was the most important thing in our situation and we'd lost sight of that.

"Can you help us?"

"Of course," I nodded. "But I need to go talk to your daddy real quick, okay? Then I'll be right back."

"Okay!"

With that, Grayson bolted back over to his cousins to continue their little project. They were so good with him, including him in their games and activities despite his young age and I was happy that he had such good role models to play with. Leaving them under Dodger's watchful eye, I took a deep breath and headed down the driveway to Chris.

"Good morning, Sleeping Beauty," Scott shouted over, the first to notice me coming their way. "Thanks for getting up so early to help us shovel the driveway."

I laughed at his sarcasm and stuck out my tongue, but when he shot me a knowing wink, I felt my cheeks burn. Of course Chris would tell him. I should have expected it, they were as close as brothers could be and Chris was always open with his family.

But it just made me feel worse about the conversation I was about to have as I went over to Chris. Luckily, he was on the opposite side of the driveway to the other two. At least that would give us a modicum of privacy.

"Hey, good morning," he grinned. "Did you sleep well?"

"I did," I returned his smile, though mine was much more forced. "Thanks for letting me sleep in."

"Grayson wanted to wake you up at breakfast," he admitted, looking over at our son as he spoke. "He was worried that you'd be hungry when you woke up and there would be no more food left."

I couldn’t help, but laugh at the thought of his concern.

"He's too sweet, but I appreciate you stopping him," I admitted. "I guess I was tired out after last night."

"Last night," Chris smirked. "Last night was..."

He trailed off as he tried to think of a word to describe it, but my smile disappeared entirely as I could tell from the look on his face that we weren't reflecting on our little incident in the same way. So, I beat him to the punch.

"Last night was a mistake."

My words hung between us for a moment and I knew, from the way that his jaw dropped slightly as if I'd just slapped him across the face, that he wasn't happy with what I'd said.

"Oh, don't give me that crap!" He protested once my words had sunk in, keeping his voice low enough that no one would be able to overhear. "You're saying that it meant nothing to you?"

I really wished we weren't outside with so many watchful eyes around, but this conversation needed to be had and at least this way I'd have an excuse to keep things brief.

"I'm saying that it shouldn't have happened," I clarified, my voice wavering slightly as I questioned my own confidence in my words. "We've worked hard to keep things as stable as possible for Grayson and that's what we need to stay focused on."

"So, you just want to pretend that it never happened?"

My heart felt like it was in a vice. I didn't want to pretend it never happened. I wanted to be with Chris, I wanted us to give it a shot, but I knew that it wouldn't work. I was nothing compared to the women that Chris usually dated and when it all fell apart, Grayson would be the one stuck in the middle. It wasn't fair to him.

But that knowledge didn't make it any less painful when I nodded my head.

"I think that's for the best."

Chris scoffed, looking down at the snow as if he couldn't even stand to look at me. I wasn't sure if I wanted to run away or cry and throw myself into his arms so I settled for simply standing there quietly, waiting for him to say something.

It felt like an eternity, but after a minute or two of total silence, he finally spoke.

"Just let me make sure that I'm getting this right," he started, looking back up at me with such an intensity that it made my eyes swim with tears. “You really have no feelings for me at all? Because if you feel even a little bit like I do then you couldn’t possibly think you’re making any sense right now.”

I swallowed hard, trying to come to terms with the situation that I found myself in. A situation where Chris could be standing in front of me, telling me that he had feelings for me after all these years that we’d been determined to be just friends. It would have felt like a cruel joke if there wasn’t so much hurt in his eyes, so much fear that I was about to reject him. Fear that proved to be entirely justified when I finally got my emotions under control enough to answer him.

"It doesn't matter," I told him softly. "It's not about what I feel or what you feel. We have someone more important to consider."

“That's bullshit!"

I flinched at the harshness of his words and his raised voice as Scott shouted over a reminder about language as the kids weren't very far away. I could feel the tears still filling my eyes, but I knew I had to stick to my guns.

"It's not bullshit," I insisted. "It's the right thing to do."

"But you said yourself, he's starting to notice that things are different," Chris pointed out, his voice thankfully much softer than it had been moments ago . "Why not take the chance to give him a normal family if that's what we both want anyway?"

"Because it will hurt him more if it doesn't work out."

"Hurt him?" Chris questioned, his scowl deepening. "Or hurt you?"

Both of us.

The truth was that I was worried that Chris would hurt me just as much as I worried that our decision would hurt Grayson, but I could handle the risk to myself if it was my choice. I couldn't handle our son being collateral damage.

I could feel Chris' gaze locked intently on me, but I couldn't lift my eyes to meet his. I didn't want to talk about it anymore. I wasn't sure how much longer I could hold onto my argument when the decision I was making wasn't even what I truly wanted. I needed this conversation to end before I let my guard down and made anymore stupid choices.

"We can't talk about this here, Chris."

"Well, when will we talk about it then?"

"I don't know," I shrugged. "I need to think."

Chris shook his head as a sigh fell from his lips. He looked defeated.

"Alright."

I took that as an end to the conversation and turned to walk away, but I'd only made it a few steps when Chris called out to me again.

"I care about you, Whitney," he told me as I looked back over my shoulder. "This wasn't nothing to me. I wouldn't have done it if I didn't want to make this work."

That only made me feel worse as I had done it without such noble intentions and with doubt still plaguing my mind. I felt cowardly, but I couldn't bring myself to answer him as I looked away and continued on my way back towards our son.

I stayed outside, playing with the kids in the snow, until the driveway was clear. Once my car was free, I scooped Grayson up and said my goodbyes.

"Be good for your dad, okay?"

"Okay, Mama!" He smiled, pressing a big, sloppy kiss on my cheek. "I love you!"

"I love you too, buddy. I'll see you in a few days."

I put him down and waved as he ran back to follow his cousins who were heading inside.

Turning back to my car, I wasn’t entirely surprised to see Chris leaning against the hood. However, I was surprised to see that the scowl that had been firmly on his face since we talked had eased somewhat and I was even more surprised when he pulled me into a hug as soon as I was close enough.

"Drive safe," he warned me. "The roads still look pretty bad."

"I will," I nodded, easing myself out of his grip. "And I'm sorry, Chris. I really am."

"Don't sweat it." He shrugged, but the dejected look on his face did little to assure me that he accepted my apology. "We'll talk soon though, right?"

I nodded and stepped back, moving to get into my car as Chris moved away from the hood.

He stayed there on the driveway, watching me as I turned the car around and waving as I drove off until he was out of sight.

I felt exhausted and heavy. There were tears brewing in my eyes as I turned onto the road, just as they had been when I drove these streets on Christmas Eve as I was taking Grayson to dad's house and thinking I would be spending the holidays alone. It was amazing to me how I managed to escape the sad, bleak Christmas that I had been anticipating at that point, and yet still somehow managed to come away feeling just as lonely.

And it was amazing to me that I ever let myself think that raising a child with Chris Evans wouldn't be emotionally draining as long as we weren't in a relationship. At this point, it seemed to just make things harder, but I knew that one day both of them would thank me for the sacrifice I was making right now.

I knew that it was the right decision for all three of us and one little slip up, one lapse in judgment and will power, wouldn't derail all the hard work that Chris and I had put in to co-parenting our son.

Or, at least, I hoped with all my heart that it wouldn't.

#chris evans fanfiction #chris evans fic #chris evans x ofc #once bitten twice shy

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suneatersupportsquad · 4 years ago

Text

red handed; colby brock

request: im not sure if you do requests or even any imagines for colby brock anymore but i was wondering if you cold make a exception, so basically the plot is that the reader met colby through kat and since then they hit it off, now their in a secretive relationship the only person who knows is kat but she only knows the reader has a crush on colby. one day everyones hanging out in the same room room and colby is sexting the reader, sams curious to whos hes texting and they find out their dating.

dedication: @whydontweanons

genre: fluff, subtle smut?

pairing: colby brock x gn!reader

characters: colby brock, sam golbach, katrina stuart, corey scherer, jake webber, kevin langue, brennen taylor, devyn lundy, tara yummy

word count: 1.8k

warnings: alcohol, what would probably be underage drinking, NSFW (barely), sexting (duh), mentions of COVID-19, quarantine

a/n: of course i’ll still write for sam and colby!! it’s just that, since i’m not as active of a follower of them as i used to be, my goal is to write for fandoms that i’m more invested in at the moment. but, honestly, i don’t think i could ever really stop writing for them. i love those boys so much. also this plot made me laugh so hard when i saw it in the best way possible. getting this request honestly made my day, so thank you for that!! anyways, i’m a little rusty, but here we go.

important links: masterlist

find more fics at my new blog @trapboysbunny

You and Colby had known each other for a long time - pretty much since he’d moved to LA with Sam - and you had been involved romantically just as long. You had met him and Sam through Kat on a boring Saturday night when all their friends flaked on coming to a little kickback they were hosting. Trying to be a good friend and cheer the boys up, Katrina had invited you to hopefully kickstart some emotional momentum. Your eyes met Colby’s for the first time and you clicked. Something in your gut had told you that the two of you would end up being close, and it was right. You had hit it off immediately, not taking very long to start laughing at one another’s corny jokes and telling stories over Smirnoff Ice while some random late night show played in the background. From that night on, it was history.

Since then, you two had been practically attached at the hip. If you weren’t sitting on the same room or facetiming, you were definitely texting one another. It became a running joke in your friend group that you two had evolved into a pair of siamese twins, or that being without you gave Colby separation anxiety. The two of you found it even more amusing when you actually began dating, not long after that fateful first night. It amazed the both of you that you were able to hide your relationship so well. No one had a clue. The two of you laughed about it quite often, actually, over late night phone calls and tipsy afternoons spent only with each other. No one knew, and nobody needed to know.

Colby, due to the internet and his fanbase being the way it is, preferred to keep his personal (and especially romantic) relationships more on the private side. His intent wasn’t necessarily to hide his feelings and relationship with you from his friends, but that particular topic of conversation never really came up in your friend group. Everyone had just kind of figured that everyone single would simply date someone when they were ready and tell everybody about it when they felt the time was appropriate. It wasn’t that Colby didn’t want to tell them, he just didn’t see the point in going out of his way to tell all of his friends hey after God knows how long I finally have a partner. He just didn’t want to make a big deal out of your relationship. Knowing his friends, they would definitely make it into some type of big thing, not to mention that Jake would dub the occasion as “cause for celebration” (which was really just an excuse to drink more). So Colby preferred to keep things on the quieter side for you two; neither of you wanted to make your relationship into an object for speculation.

Kat was the only person out of all of your friends to have any knowledge of your feelings for Colby. And thank God for her; if you didn’t have her to gush about Colby to, you probably would have either exploded or died. Or both. And she was there for every single second of it. She loved hearing about your movie nights, your urban exploring adventures, the sweet yet mundane things he would do to make you happy, literally anything. She ate that shit up like a man starved, and you did the same for her and Sam (regardless of the fact that their relationship was public already). You hadn’t told her explicitly about the nature of your relationship with Colby, really just gushed about your ever-growing love for the boy. Unbeknownst to you, she firmly believed that you only had feelings for Colby, clueless to the fact that the two of you had actually been dating for quite a while now. With her “go get ‘em, tiger” comments, along with similar remarks, you assumed that she had some sort of idea about your relationship with Cole, hence why you had never explicitly told her about your secret boyfriend. Kat, being the good friend that she was, never spilled your “secret” feelings to anyone else. Not even her boyfriend.

Eventually, quarantine started up amidst the international COVID-19 pandemic and you had begun practically living with the trap boys. A day without you in the house was enough to prompt concern for the boys, minus Colby who always knew the real reason why you weren’t coming over. This soon became the new normal, you taking a “day off” every few weeks to get tested just in case. At this point, it was almost comical that no one had figured out you two were dating yet.

One particular weekend afternoon, everyone in your friend group was hanging out at the house. You and Colby were sitting on opposite sides of the room, you next to Kat and Colby seated beside Sam. It was particularly warm today seeing as this Saturday landed smack in the middle of the infamous August heat wave, so you had thrown on a tank top and some shorts, nothing to flashy. Colby had dressed similarly, wearing only a muscle tee and a pair of trunks.

You were sat beside Kat, the both of you trying to listen to the story Devyn was telling. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t ignore the way your boyfriend was staring at you from across the room. You looked away from Dev for just a second to shoot him a glare when you realize exactly why he’s looking at you. The speed at which the blood rushes to your face is dizzying, and you drop your head to stare at your lap. Motherfucker- You sigh as you pull your phone out of your pocket. “Quit it with the blowjob eyes asshole,” you type before pressing the blue send button.

You feel his gaze break as his phone vibrates. Trying to ignore him, you refuse to meet his gaze again, putting all of your effort into focusing on Devyn’s story. Seconds later your phone vibrates in your pocket. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” the screen reads, and you shake your head.

“Uh huh sure ok.” You pressed send again.

Another few seconds passed and your phone vibrated again. “That shirt looks really good on you.”

You blushed as you read the message, flustered by the comment. Brows knitting together in confusion, you looked up to find him staring back at you with a dopey grin. You hunched over your phone and sent a message back. “You really think so?”

“Yeah, of course,” Colby replied, a gray typing bubble sitting under the message. “But you know how it would look cuter?”

You cocked your head to the side and typed out your response. “How?”

“On my bedroom floor.” You almost snorted at that, clamping a hand over your mouth to prevent any noise from escaping. Typical. Thankfully no one had been paying enough attention to you to notice that you were distracted.

Colby, on the other hand, wasn’t so lucky. “Give me this, dude,” Sam said, snatching the phone out of Colby’s hand and effectively bringing the conversation on their side of the room to a halt. “You haven’t been listening for like the past 20 minutes, dude. Now let’s see what’s got you so distracted.”

“You don’t need to look at that, Sam, it’s not that important-” The tall brunette sounded slightly panicky as he reached and grappled with Sam for his phone. Sam played around for a little bit before finally reading the screen, eyes widening in amusement.

Upon finishing his reading, Sam lowered the phone and Colby relaxed, already knowing that he was caught. “So who’s ‘angelcakes,’ huh Colbert?” Sam prodded teasingly.

Colby blushed ever so slightly, rubbing the back of his neck. “They’re just a friend-”

“Which friend, huh?” Sam continued his teasing, growing louder and louder with every response until all eyes were on the two boys.

Colby shrugged, trying to be nonchalant but looking more stressed than ever in actuality. “Just a friend.”

“What do you say we call this friend, huh boys?” Sam suggested.

Kevin nodded, agreeing. “I think we definitely should.” Brennen also nodded when Sam looked to him for approval, essentially finalizing the decision.

“Okay then, let’s do this thing!” Sam yelled, earning cheers from all the other curious folks in the room. The blonde boy pressed call and Colby simply held his face in his hands.

You jumped when your phone rang, honestly having forgotten that oh shit, I’m angelcakes. Everyone turned to look at you curiously, Colby even peeking through his fingers. You didn’t even pick up the device, already knowing whose name would be lighting up the screen. “You gonna pick that up or something?” Corey asked awkwardly.

You shook your head, leaving your phone face down in its spot beside your thigh. “No, it’s probably not important anyways.”

A beat of heavy silence passed before Tara spoke. “Gee, they sure aren’t giving up. Maybe you should answer it.”

“Nah, I’m sure it’s just-”

“Yeah, you should answer the phone, Y/N,” Jake agreed, the pieces seeming to click in his head.

You sighed, burning bright red to the tips of your ears. “Okay okay, fine.” You stood and clicked the answer button. “Hello?”

And there it was, your voice echoing from Colby’s phone. The room erupted in cheers of disbelief, the boys pouncing on Colby and the girls slapping you in playful excitement. “I knew there was something going on between you two!! There’s no way there couldn’t have been -- I can’t believe you didn’t tell me!” Kat squealed, smushing you in a hug.

The rest of the girls echoed the sentiment, a chorus of ‘same’s and ‘I can’t believe you’s. It took a while for everyone to calm down but, once everyone settled, you and Cole managed to get some alone time. The two of you escaped out back, the less than mediocre breeze cooling the sweat that slicked your skin. You held each other, almost as though you were about to start slow dancing. “Damn, caught red handed, huh?”

You laughed breathily, leaning your forehead against his shoulder. “It was only a matter of time, ya know?”

“I know,” he agreed, cheek pressing against your hair. “I’m glad we don’t have to be weird around them anymore.”

“Me too,” you hummed.

Colby pulled away a little bit, just enough for him to look you in the eyes, your arms still around his neck. “Hey.”

You giggled, confused. “Hey.”

“I love you.”

You smiled your confirmation, eyes twinkling under the cheap backyard lights. “I love you.”

#colby brock #colby brock fanfiction #colby brock one shot #colby brock fanfic #colby brock imagine #fanfiction #the trap house #bug.oneshots

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ursie · 2 years ago

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I posted 6,592 times in 2022

1,750 posts created (27%)

4,842 posts reblogged (73%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@dykemas

@magnetickid

@shatterstar

@furiousfinnstan

@vampwidogast

I tagged 6,418 of my posts in 2022

Only 3% of my posts had no tags

#q - 3,279 posts

#asks - 1,091 posts

#anon - 763 posts

#cr - 645 posts

#i babble - 533 posts

#disabled tag - 383 posts

#cr3 - 335 posts

#ableism tw - 240 posts

#tw ableism - 198 posts

#lgbt+ - 182 posts

Longest Tag: 140 characters

#he’s not incompetent he’s manipulative he has a handle on the situation until there’s information he’s not privy to and that’s where he fail

My Top Posts in 2022:

TT isn’t ableist it’s DC/the editors/ect stop blaming him ok but he wrote these scenes he wrote this dialogue and this is just off the top of my head not even touching the “subtle” ableism woven throughout the run :

⚠️

Major tw for ableism :

See the full post

565 notes - Posted July 2, 2022

Fanon Dick is sm like...I'm not saying Dick needs to be hypercompetent at everything but like a huge point of his character is trying to be because he's incapable of relying on other people a huge thing for him is being able to take care of himself in whatever way he needs to -be that blending in/playing the Wayne game for B, cooking for himself, cleaning up after himself, ect. like it's ooc to act like he can't do any of those things (or that he wouldn't of tried to learn) and no ones saying he's the best at them but fanon needs to learn there's a huge gap between being the best and being incompetent at something. I know everyone's worried about making him a mary sue but genuinely him being perceived as one in universe is an ongoing source of tension to him and his relationships like...main point is like he can cook and doesn't live in a dumpster guys pls read a comic

718 notes - Posted March 11, 2022

Ok so like my thing w Dickbabs/Tom Taylor’s Nightwing is like knowing DC has been under scrutiny for years for ableism specifically surrounding Babs writing-that its hard not to see this book for what it is-It’s literally so insidious they’re literally both physically disabled and not only is it either ignored/brushed aside but they’re actively placating ableists and using this ship to do it like?? Aren’t y’all DickBabs mad for being used like that?? Y’all don’t have standards?? Like it could not be more obvious that it’s a constant here’s DickBabs ignore the fact she’s walking 😭 and the fact it’s coming right after a book where Dick had a reasonably popular new (Black!) love interest whom got written out for DickBabs makes it even worse. The fact that in the book Dick is barely competent and TT consistently relies on cameos and fan service in place of plot..like it’s just a very obvious pattern of appealing to fandom to avoid criticism (and effort tbh) and it’s working it is which is infuriating tbh. Like genuinely this book is the most obvious written from a pure marketing perspective I’ve seen in a while 😭

719 notes - Posted April 22, 2022

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750 notes - Posted January 26, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

I’m not a Depp apologist (I stand w Amber) I would personally kill him if given the chance but I do think pro Amber people need to be careful how they talk about his drug history. He’s not a bad man for being an addict, he’s not a bad man for being sick, he’s a bad man for being a wife beater and otherwise violent bigot of a man-and whilst his consumption of drugs and alcohol is undeniably linked to the abuse it’s important not to link addicts in general to being abusers/aggressors when more often then not people self medicate for reason’s yknow. Idk just watch your phrasing that is all. Other addicts do see how you view and talk about them. (Again I’m not pro Depp again I think he should die)

*ok to reblog no clowning

2,035 notes - Posted June 5, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #I babble #Long post

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river-bottom-nightmare · 4 years ago

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Nightwing 79 Review

i said i would and i will. i did like this issue! not as striking and attention grabbing as 78, but i think this issue was meant to be a foundation one, laying out the groundwork for the future. overall, pretty good. also there wasn't enough bitewing. as promised, overly extensive metaphors and me reading too much into things under the cut

i know i've talked about this cover before, but this particular thing is oddly important to me, so i'll talk about it again

this is me, once again screaming about how artists put nightwing in traditionally feminine poses and how every time i see it i just get whiplash. i mean, true, the main reason why is because nightwing is a so often sexualized character, and putting him in these poses just increases the objectification, which is a goal that dc producers have. but there are very few popular male characters that do this. the only one i can think of off the top of my head is deadpool, but that was so obviously a critique and a way to make fun of the media industry. when they draw dick like this, they’re being serious. they’re putting him in appealing poses meant to show him off, and that’s something that’s traditionally only been done to women.

it's a very direct and very loud breaking of traditional gender roles in media, especially for a character as high-profile and historic as dick grayson. colour also plays a factor in this. the entire background is pink. i was absolutely shocked when i first saw it, when the teaser came out, because i cannot think of any comic book covers of male comic heroes this high-profile where pink is even just prevalent in the cover, let alone the majority of the cover. the pink does look beautiful: it offsets and highlights the black and blue of dick's suit gorgeously, but does it with more finesse than orange or red. but the fact that the stylistic choice was made to accent and draw this cover with aesthetic and beauty in mind, completely ignoring traditional hard-set gender rules in art, was a conscious choice and one i wholeheartedly support.

just another example of the sexualization i was talking about. i remember seeing harley quinn in this exact pose in suicide squad.

so far, taylor's been pretty dead-set on bringing alfred to the forefront of importance in this series. he wants people to know how much he loves alfred's character, and how much the butler meant to dick growing up. he was dick's father too. but what i adore is how taylor managed to stress alfred's importance in a way that didn't insult or belittle bruce.

this is one of the best bruce and dick interactions i've seen, and it's done in one simple interaction. in this, bruce is tough and harsh. he knocked dick down hard, but then he reached a hand down and helped pull dick back up. let me analyze their dialogue for a minute

on your feet: this is bruce telling dick to get up. he's trained dick, he knows what the younger boy is capable of, he knows his limits, and he knows what dick can do. this is bruce telling dick i know you're strong enough to get up, so get up and prove me right

are you just going to knock me down again?: surface-level, it looks like dick's complaining. he doesn't like bruce's rough training, and he's tired of bruce knocking him down. but look at his face in this. he's smiling up at bruce, knowledgeable and a little hopeful. he knows that bruce is doing this to help dick better himself, he's completely on board with the rough training, because they both know the rewards are incredible. also, he's teasing. he's bantering with bruce. there's an ease in that joking statement, one that belies affection and intimacy. they've only known each other for a little bit, but they're already slipping into a close familial relationship.

it depends on how fast you learn: this is bruce bantering back. this is bruce not being a stoic, unfeeling asshole. instead, he's shown with the dry humor that a good batman writer knows is a staple of the character. he's teasing dick, telling him he'll basically whoop his ass if dick doesn't learn fast enough. it's incentive for dick to train harder, while also being lighthearted enough to tell dick that believes in dick and doesn't want him to push himself too hard.

gosh i love the titans. also it looks like wally's staring at dick's ass.

this was cute. a prod at dick's silly and playful sense of humor, while not dumbing him down for the sake of a laugh. instead, he's joking about food, which is stuff everyone jokes about. this is the kind of stuff that'll actually make me laugh, instead of just making me vaguely uncomfortable.

bludhaven's almost always portrayed as a cesspool of a city. and to be honest, it really is. but this panel gives the city a meaningful history, while also giving us a reason for why dick moved there.

it talks of a time when people still thought they could beat the monsters. that if they fought hard enough, they could win the fight. it was a tentative hope that you could always overcome hardship.

dick's little "i like that it's still standing" shows how he still believes that, despite what the rest of the world thinks. despite everything that he's been through, dick is still tentatively an optimist, and believes he can fight the monsters of the world and win. it's a beautiful testament to his character, and i'm like that they added his signature element of hope back in. it used to be what he symbolized as robin, and despite his growth and character arc from robin to nightwing, this is one aspect of robin that i'm glad nightwing still has.

remember when i said "things that make me vaguely uncomfortable??" yeahhhh,,,,,,,,,,,,,,

Shooketh Dick: A Sequel

(the expressions in this series are just,,,,on point)

this was an incredibly sweet and kindhearted thing for dick to do, but i found it kind of,,,,,,,,desperate? maybe that's just me, but let me explain.

dick's suddenly a billionaire, and he has entirely too much money that he knows what to do with. it's also alfred's money, what the man left to him, so dick forever links it with alfred. in addition to that, he's back and bludhaven and looking at it with "fresh" eyes. (at least, from a different point of view since he got shot in the head. then mind controlled.) he's desperate to do something with the money and he's desperate to help the people around him that so obviously needs up, so he comes up with an on-the-fly solution that's a little impractical and a little crazy, but it still helps and still does some good.

to me, dick seems a little lost. he hasn't completely found his balance yet, and he's trying to do things that will. he tries charity, because that's what bruce did and it's what he knows, even though he admitted that he always thought bruce could have done more as bruce wayne than batman.

they have a family group chat guys yall were right.

also, do i think that dick would ever actually get his wallet stolen?? no way in hell, he’d notice someone getting ready to pickpocket him a mile away. but i suppose it’s important to the Plot.

okay this is getting interesting. first blockbuster, now maroni (+ the weird heart stealer guy). i can officially say that i am intruiged

this particular artistic quirk is shown a lot in this issue, and from this art team in general, but i feel like this panel is one of the best examples of it. it was stunning enough to take up a full page, and it’s well deserved.

the way they show dick moving is absolutely brilliant. as a reader, i like seeing these smaller versions of dick getting clearer and in more detail as they come closer to the screen. not only do they show depth in the picture beyond what a simple 3 dimensional piece of art does, it also shows the passage of time.

in addition, it showcases dick’s skill. dick spots these mobsters running after a group of petty thieves. he then, and follow me here, leaps off the roof of one building feet first, springboards backwards off the side of the adjacent building with his feet, gracefully continues his backflip, rights himself, shoots a line with perfect timing: just in time to soften his landing but not slow him down, execute said landing on top of a moving bus, keep running on the moving bus without missing a beat, shoot his grapple, use the grapple to swing, use the swing to build up momentum, then use the momentum to deliver a powerful blow to the mobsters. and he did all that fast enough to catch up with the mobsters, even though he was a ROOFTOP OVER.

d a m n s o n

this panel, the very first in the issue, is also another example of that art style, but a little more distinctive. i love the way they showed dick’s different costumes through the ages, along with him simply growing up. it’s a little heartbreaking, but a lot uplifting to see how far he’s come. thank god he got rid of the red. now all we need is the fingerstripes, and we’ll be golden

discowing my beloved. also i can’t clearly see discowing’s hair but it definitely looks like it’s pulled back. it looks like he put it in a ponytail. guys. guys. dick had a ponytail omg.

he’s having a Hero Moment

are you talking about the city, dick, or are you talking about you? the kgbeast, the court, the joker. dick fell to each one of them, no matter how hard he fought. he won in the end, eventually and with his family’s help. but i think he’s feeling a little low, a little defeated right now. it’s almost like he needs a win, he needs to feel victorious, he needs to feel like he helped someone (hence the food and the hotel room), just because he needs to remember what it feels like.

these lines were supposed to resonate with you, and goddamn they did.

i looked at it from two ways. first, it’s the girl asking, begging nightwing not to hurt them. bludhaven doesn’t know dick the way gotham does, they’re still a little frightened of him. this child was brave enough to step in front of all of the other hurt and homeless kids and ask, to a strange man in a mask, if he was going to hurt them like the other men had. it’s heartbreaking, but commendable, and an echo of the city itself that dick’s decided to protect. they’re bloody and broken and terrified, but still gritty and brave enough to stare what they fear in the eye and ask it not to hurt them.

second, it’s dick seeing the question reflected in himself. recently, he got shot in the head and lost all his memories. while i think that the way ric reacted was a perfectly valid and human response to the situation, i think dick still regrets how callously and rudely he treated his family. then, he was manipulated by the court of owls, then he was brainwashed with a magic crystal by the joker. dick does have a guilt complex. it’s not a big as bruce’s, but it’s there. and right now, with this girl begging her not to hurt them, dick is probably thinking about all the times he hurt people, in control of his own actions or not, bc he “didn’t have a heart.”

little ambitious don’t you think, dick?

also just look at the sunset colours loOK at the they could not make this any more obvious oh my godddddddddddddddddddddddd

in conclusion, i need more of her

#dick grayson #nightwing #nightwing 79 #nightwing 79 spoilers #dc #dick grayson meta #nightwing meta #nightwing 79 meta #dc meta #river thinks too hard

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i-have-zero-chill · 3 years ago

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Like, no it doesn’t make sense for 911 to constantly show how weird and off Buck seems with Taylor vs with everyone else if it’s not for a reason. And no, it wouldn’t make sense for Eddie and Buck to just never talk about the shooting or the will ever again. BUT in my personal experience shows do things that don’t make sense all the time. Honestly most of the time. So… I don’t know. And this isn’t even just about buddie/queer rep. I can’t count the amount of times I’ve been like, “surely the writers can’t ignore this important plot point that they themselves introduced into the story” and then it literally never gets brought up again. It happens.

Anyway all this to say I’m definitely not watching the midseason finale live lmao

#buddie #evan buckley #911 #text post #like i'm sorry but 911 isn't special #it's a great show but it's no different than any other show

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st-just · 4 years ago

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Semi-coherent Queen’s Gambit thoughts

Overall I really did enjoy the show, even if it might be a bit shallow, once you dig into it. Or, well,, having thought about it I could write a damning denunciation on request, anyway (but that’s true of basically everything I watch, so). Aesthetically gorgeous, of course. But honestly, what’s most interesting to me is how, like, deceptively upbeat and optimistic and generally joyful show it is?

Okay, so firstly – I really do mean it when I say it’s aesthetically beautiful. This show has singlehandidly convinced me that every change in fashion since the ‘60s has been a strict downgrade. The soundtrack’s absolutely sublime as well, both the licensed tracks and just the score – I’m almost certainly going to just be listening to the soundtrack as walking around music for quite a while. I’m no expert on cinematography, but there were a few scenes that were absolutely just showing off, and I sure as hell enjoyed the show (the American championship montage, obviously, and the pull-out in the Moscow hotel. And, well, pretty much every important chess game/tournament). Anna Taylor-Joy absolutely makes the show, and literally anyone whose watched more than two minutes of it probably agrees. Has one of those faces that is just amazing at getting across emotions and ideas without actually saying anything (and without looking like an idiot trying to do so). Really, the comparison that springs to mind is Mathew Rhys and Kerri Russel in The Americans, which is just about the highest praise I, personally, can give. So, yeah, give her and the people in costuming and set design Emmys, at a minimum.

And – getting critiques out of the way, in descending order of how much I care. Jolene is absolutely the most stereotypically Black Best Friend sort of character imaginable, and the conversation where she basically looks at the camera and says she doesn’t just exist to be Beth’s guardian angel doesn’t actually help that much. Beth finally summoning up the self belief and willpower to flush away her lifelong pill habit in the middle of a tournament and playing the next day without any sort of problems was a bit twee. Between the show’s utterly despair inducing vision of the life the women Beth went to school with have and Julie’s whole vitriolic anti-model spiel the show can come off a bit #notlikeothergirls (incidentally, whoever got the French a national stereotype of being sexy, well-dressed and sophisticated deserves a bigger statue in Paris). And, yeah, it’s not unjustifiable or even, like, unusually bad, but Beth hitting rock bottom does end up looking a lot like a playboy spread.

But, okay – when I say the series is remarkably upbeat what I mostly (magical addiction-curing character development aside) mean is that the world (or at last, the world of chess) is shown as fundamentally uplifting, kind, and pure. The conflict of the show is either the result of forced interactions with the rest of society, or Beth struggling with her own damage. Her birth mother and father, the orphanage, her utter piece-of-shit of an adoptive father, the other girls at school – these are all, broadly, terrible. But chess itself is an entirely positive part of her life, and while some of the people she meets through it are rude or condescending at first, they basically all very quickly grow to respect her and become extremely invested in her well-being and success (her relationship with her adoptive mother also becomes more positive and loving basically entirely in proportion to how supportive she is of Beth’s chess career). All of her rivals turn out to be gracious losers and perfect gentleman, and also usually fall in love with her (which, well, fair), and the closest things the series has to a defined, hateable villain (beyond Beth’s self-destructive tendencies) is her adoptive father, not anyone in the chess world that consumes the vast majority of the plot.

The show’s take on gender roles and period-appropriate patriarchy. There is, to borrow and probably butcher (I believe) Kate Manne’s there is quite a lot of sexism in the show, but almost no misogyny. Which is to say, Beth has to deal with plenty of condescension, double-standards, suffocating expectations, and generally being being looked at askance, and the show is absolutely crystal clear that actually living up to those expectations is a miserable, soul-crushing, dream-killing husk of a life. But when she ignores them and demands to be accepted as a serious chess-player, once she shows that she’s as good as she acts like she is, everyone just, well, lets her. There’s no enforcement mechanism to the patriarchy, or if there is Beth is too exceptional to ever even see it. And no one ever becomes hateful or violently insecure when shown up by her – quite the opposite, really.

Semi-related, but for a show set during the Cold War it’s got an oddly positive view of the Soviet Union. Benny’s rant about how people actually care about chess and give it prestige, and how chess players there actually work together and cooperate instead of being obsessed with individual achievement (which the rest of the show goes on to make very clear is a virtue and something worth copying). There was a bit in the last episode along the same lines that actually made me smile – when the State Department/CIA goon asks Beth to tell the reporters how being in Moscow has made her proud to be an American, when she clearly (imo) is rather fond of the sudden adoring crowds and the reverence her sport is treated with.

Beyond jokes about the there being another universe 10 degrees off from this one where the whole thing is a VN where you beat each potential love interest in chess to unlock them, the comparison that comes to mind is honestly Among Others by Jo Walton. Not for, like, tone or subject matter or anything, but just for the general arc of ‘Weird Girl in mid 20th century deals with horrifying childhood trauma and alienation from the social life expected of her by diving headfirst into nerdy/esoteric subculture”.

But yeah, anyway, gorgeous, enjoyable show. Would watch again. Give Taylor-Joy an Emmy. Thank you again to @triviallytrue and @rox-and-prose for the recommendation.

#television #queen's gambit #in this essay I will #this is theoretically a writing blog

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royallyprincesslilly · 4 years ago

Text

Title: Kismet {2}

Henry Cavill x Famous OFC Aliya Taylor

Warning: Plot Heavy, Slow Burn, Mild Cursing, Flirtation

Words: 4.9k

Summary: Aliya is a singer turned model turned actress. Since she was fifteen, she’s been creating her empire in the entertainment world. As the daughter of a famous fashion model/designer and Hollywood director, you’d think life is easy for her, but her past has been anything but easy. Due to past trauma, she’s forever changed and no longer trusts any man that is not in her family and a select few in her team. She’s sworn off love and serious relationships and has planned never to fall again, but love isn’t something that can be planned. It just happens when it’s meant to. Can Aliya outrun a love that seems hellbent on holding tight to her, a love that is Kismet?

Note: I did something a little different this chapter with POVs. You’ll see it toward the end. Let me know if it was confusing or if you guys liked it. Also there are Google Translations in text. If they are wrong, I apologize. I hope you enjoy this. ❤️❤️

If you enjoyed this please LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG!! 😘 As always, thank you so much for reading. ❤️❤️

***Loosely Edited/Proofread***

Previous Chapters: 1 |

-Henry-

He could feel the eyes of those around him. He’d been recognized. You’d think that years of being in the industry, he’d be immune to the stares, whispers, and not so discreet pictures of him being taken. He was not. It was always like the first time. It was difficult for him not to feel self-conscious about it either. Doing a once over of the restaurant, he made a mental note of where everyone who looked suspicious was. Most of them looked away when they saw him looking around, but there were a few bold ones who kept looking and even one or two extra bold who tried to make eye contact while giving the classic seductress lip bite. When that happened, he usually gave a quick, polite nod before looking away, never to look back.

Tonight was no different, except he couldn’t stop thinking about one woman—you. It wasn’t enough that he’d dreamt of you last night in ways that were unexpected seeing how he’d just unofficially met you. He couldn’t explain how he felt. It was strange and new. He’d met beautiful women before, women that were drop dead gorgeous with an equally amazing and impressive body. The physical aspects of you were not what was keeping him enthralled. It was something else, something he saw in your eyes when he held you, something his body felt once he touched your skin, something his heartfelt when you spoke. It was unexplainable at this time, but just because he couldn’t explain it didn’t mean he couldn’t dwell on the feeling.

“Dude, I’ve been calling and texting you all night. What the hell?”

Jean, had his arms stretched out nonverbally, asking, “what the hell?”

“You have?”

“Yeah. Pick up your phone,” Jean finished.

“I didn’t know. I don’t have my phone,” he replied as he leaned back. The eyes of his three friends dropped to the table where your phone was. It looked identical to his.

“It’s right there, man,” William said, pointing to it.

“This isn’t mine.”

“Uh, it looks like yours,” Jameson informed.

“Yeah, but it’s not.”

They all looked confused. Stifling his laughter, he began explaining to them. He knew they were probably going to lose their minds.

“Yesterday, I had a meeting about Witcher, so I’m coming off the elevator on my phone, and I run smack into Aliya Taylor.”

The eyes of the gents around him widened as they sat up more alert.

“Thee Aliya Taylor?” Nodding his answer to Jameson, he gulped his Guinness before continuing.

“She almost falls over, so my reflexes kick in, and I catch her and set her upright. She recovers and gets on the elevator. I pick up what I thought was my phone, but I just spent the last night realizing that this is not my phone,” he finished.

The three of them sat there silently, each thinking over the bit of news he’d just shared. Saying it out loud, it sounded like a plot from a romcom. It was absolutely ridiculous. Things like these never happen in real life.

“So, you have Aliya Taylor’s phone.”

“I have Aliya Taylor’s phone, and she has mine,” he laid out.

Jameson, his oldest friend, slid back with a shocked expression on his face. “Wow. That’s bonkers.”

Releasing a chuckle, he nodded in agreement.

“So, what have you doing on her phone?”

He knew that was going to be William’s next question. He could also guess another one of his questions was going to be about your pictures.

“What you would find on a typical woman’s phone,” he answered.

“So, selfies, nudes, clothes, and makeup?”

The laughter around the table filled the space around them, giving him enough of a reprieve to drink down some more of his Guinness.

“Not sure about the nudes. I saw a half nude then stopped. I felt weird like I was violating her privacy.”

“The better question is, what’s on your phone, mate?” That was when he made a face knowing full well what might be on his phone.

“There might be a few nudes,” he admitted. His friends laughed again, but he didn’t find it funny at all. “Oh Christ, I hope she hasn’t seen them.”

“Mate, Aliya Taylor could be checking out your knob right now and fancying what she sees,” Jean teased.

“Shut up. She hasn’t called. I’m sure she knows by now that it’s not her phone,” he audibly thought.

“Just like you know. Call her,” Jameson urged.

He sat there for a few moments thinking about if that were the right move rather than a text. His friends could see his hesitation. So passed the next five or so minutes with them trying to convince him a call was the best option. With a unanimous decision, he picked up the phone as his friends squeezed in to look.

“Aw, flowers how adorable,” William teased. He ignored their laughter and dialed his number. He had no idea if you’d pick up or not.

The phone rang three times, and just when he thought you weren’t going to pick up, he heard your voice. It was soft and hesitant.

“Hello?”

Silence. His eyed automatically widened as he froze. His friends around him motioned to him, telling him to speak. That was when his brain restarted.

“Yes, hi. This is Henry—Cavill. I bumped into you; we bumped into each other yesterday.”

“Right, yes,” you confirmed in a professional voice. He wondered if you were slightly freaking out as much as he was on the inside. If you were, you sounded nothing but calm and collected.

“It looks like I might have your phone,” he breached.

“And I might have yours.”

“It seems that way.”

The silence stretched again, but it wasn’t entirely uncomfortable.

“Would you like to make a plan to exchange them back? Maybe coffee tomorrow, or brunch?”

His mouth said it before his brain caught it. Once it was out, he cringed. He sounded sleazy with a touch of desperate. It was not a good look either way. Your silence told him you thought the same thing.

“Are you asking me out or to meet up to get your phone back?”

It was a good question, one he didn’t have enough confidence to answer.

“I can’t tomorrow anyway. I’m actually in London right now working. I won’t be back in LA for about a week and a half,” you informed.

“Oh, wow.”

“Yeah. I’m sorry for the inconvenience. If you like, I can have my assistant mail it to you express. You should get it by tomorrow night,” you suggested.

“I would rather exchange hand to hand. My phone has a lot of very personal stuff on it.”

“As does mine,” you added.

“I would suspect so. The most secure thing would be when you return to LA,” he countered.

“Can you go without a phone for that long?”

A smile spread across his face. “I’ll be using yours.”

Your laughter was loud and unexpected. He couldn’t help but smile wider because of it. He wondered what you looked like while you laughed. Catching a glimpse of his friends’ faces, he wiped the smile off his face and shook the thought away.

“Feel free to use mine,” he added.

“And is someone important calls like Spielberg or a Francesca?”

That was when he knew you’d looked in his phone. He wasn’t angry. He was filled with something else—regret maybe. Regret that you’d seen things that he couldn’t explain then and there or beforehand. His friends all had the same look on their faces. It was one that said he’d been caught.

“If it’s Spielberg, yes, answer on the first ring.”

Again, you laughed. You were good for his ego; he thought to himself before continuing.

“Francesca, no need to answer, we have nothing to talk about.” It was the truth. “What about if it’s Tyra Banks or Liam or Jesse. Do I answer?”

The silence stretched for several long moments. He wondered if you would answer, and his friends looked equally interested. What seemed like a long while later, he heard you speak again.

“Tyra Banks answer at your own risk, she’ll pump you for info until you’re blue in the face. If it’s Liam or Jesse, if I were you, I wouldn’t. They have strong jealous tendencies.”

The answer was unexpected, and it was an answer he didn’t quite like. “Who doesn’t these days,” he stated. Neither of you spoke for a few moments after.

“So, a week and a half?”

“Sounds like a date,” he responded. You giggled. He liked the sound of it.

“Date?”

“Yes, a date,” he confirmed.

“I never said anything about a date.”

“I know, but I also know there was some sort of spark between us yesterday, and I know you felt it too.”

Again you were quiet. Yeah, it was bold, but he knew that he wouldn’t get any answers to the multitude of questions he had without some bold move forward.

“You’ll have your phone back in a week and a half. Goodbye, Henry,” you said before you ended the call.

Without knowing he’d been holding it, he released his breath and sat back in his seat.

“Jeez, she’s a firecracker,” Jameson professed.

That’s the least of it, he thought.

~~~~~~~

-Aliya-

Your time in London was hectic. You were all over the place. Your photoshoots took you all over the English countryside. You frolicked in green pastures, posed on trees, in trees. You rode horses and pretended to play cricket. You posed with English roses and having afternoon tea all the while in the latest in fashion, and all dolled up in makeup. When your days began at five in the morning, they didn’t end until ten at night. If they began at night, you were not back in your hotel room until six in the morning.

On the days your modeling responsibilities didn’t rule your schedule you worked within your company. You were still in the midst of putting out your first magazine that you hoped would be up to par with Vogue or Bazaar. The goal was to do what they did, just better, and geared for a more ethnic audience, but you were now working on ways to be a bit inclusive—but not much. You wanted black and brown people to feel included, seen, represented, and heard. It was a lot of work, but you knew it would be worth it. Your launch was scheduled for a few months from now, and your excitement was reaching epic proportions with each passing day.

This project was your baby, you put sweat, blood, tears, sleepless nights, and everything ounce of your energy into it. You sometimes neglected having a life for it, and that included dating. It was what you told yourself was the reason for your lack of dating. At the surface, it sufficed, but deep down, you knew you were full of shit. No one else had to know that, though. All anyone needed to know was that you liked to work, and you were damn good at everything you did. You made sure of it.

With your current phone situation, you used Henry’s phone to do everything. No one recognized the number, and when they saw it, they always wanted to question you on what was going on. You were thankful that whoever you called didn’t have his number, or else the caller ID would say his name whenever you called, then you’d have a lot of explaining to do.

On your fourth day in London, you were sitting in the tub soaking after a long day when his phone went off with a notification signifying a text. When you looked at it, you couldn’t help but smile.

MSG Your Phone: Travis and Jesse have called three times so far. I haven’t answered, but you have an overflow of messages and voicemails.

You smiled and wondered if he was fishing for details. When you reread the message, you tried to pick up on any hint of jealousy. There was none.

MSG Henry’s Phone: Francesca and Abby haven’t called, but the messages are overflowing. Would you like me to forward them?

After barely waiting a minute, another message came in.

MSG Your Phone: No. As I said, we have nothing to talk about. Would you like me to forward your voicemails?

Again you smiled. He was fishing.

MSG Henry’s Phone: Nah. They can wait.

You had to giggle. You didn’t plan on giving him not one detail.

MSG Your Phone: How is London treating you?

MSG Henry’s Phone: It’s fine.

MSG Your Phone: Did the sun come out for you?

MSG Henry’s Phone: Nope. Raining cats and dogs.

You sank deeper into the tub and took up the glass of wine you had rested at the side. After a decent sip, you placed the wine glass back and sighed.

MSG Your Phone: Glad to know mother nature treats you just as how she treats me.

MSG Henry’s Phone: Are you in London a lot?

MSG Your Phone: I mainly live in London. I come to LA for work but am spending more and more time here for work, or on location.

The thought popped into your head of where he lives. You wondered if you’d passed it. As soon as you began thinking about it, you pushed the thoughts out of your head.

MSG Henry’s Phone: Oh, so you’re a Brit. Interesting.

It was a stupid reply. Duh, he was a Brit, the accent in interviews you’d watched since bumping into him made it a dead giveaway. It was the only thing you could think of.

MSG Your Phone: What is that interesting?

MSG Henry’s Phone: I completely missed your accent.

It wasn’t a lie.

MSG Your Phone: You were rather distracted.

You couldn’t help but giggle again. It was adorable how confidant he was. This was not the first display of it. Deciding to throw him off, you shot your final text.

MSG Henry’s Phone: Gotta run, goodbye Henry.

Instead of putting the phone down, you reread the messages. With each message, you found yourself smiling wider and wider until you noted a giddy feeling rushing through you. Nipping it in the bud, you put the phone down and closed your eyes, deciding to focus only on relaxing. Unfortunately, the two hemispheres of your brain weren’t in agreement. One wanted Henry, the other wanted relaxation.

Two days of working and forcing yourself to focus on work and everything related to it found you drifting onto the side of overstressed and worked. Any normal human would do everything to alleviate the discomfort, but you, you did everything in your power to prolong it. You knew what the root of it was, and you didn’t want to entertain any parts of your growing curiosity about him. Though you didn’t want to entertain your thoughts about him, you found yourself two days later sitting on your hotel room balcony with a glass of wine thinking of no other but him.

MSG Henry’s Phone: Why don’t you have a lock code on your phone?

As you waited, you sipped from your glass and stared out to the London Eye. It was one of your favorite parts of the city. Sometimes at night, you liked to ride it and just think about your life. You especially liked having it stop at the top. It gave you such a beautiful view of the city and the lights it always took your breath away.

He heard the chime of the phone in the next room. He turned the flame on the stove down to low, so the sauce he had simmering wouldn’t thicken too quickly and made his way to his bedroom for the phone on the nightstand. When he took it up, his smile was wide when he saw his number and the name he’d designated himself as highlighted. When he opened it and read the message, he couldn’t stop the victory dance that he did around his two-bedroom home that went on for much longer than he’d ever admit to.

When he stopped, he was back in the kitchen, hovered over the counter.

MSG Your Phone: What do I need a code for?

As he anxiously waited for your reply, he put the phone on the counter several inches from him. He hoped this would stop him from sending message after message. When he realized that it wasn’t enough, his idle hands still wanted work, so he went back to stirring his pot.

His reply had you wrinkling your nose. He sounded so flippant about it.

MSG Henry’s Phone: Well, for one, you’re an actor with a lot of private high secret info regarding movies on your phone. Anything can get leaked. For two, this is the twenty-first century, and the average person has at least six pieces of incriminating material on their phones. That incriminating material can end up on TMZ or US Weekly, hell every Perez Hilton.

You couldn’t believe he hadn’t thought of that. This was logic to you, logic you couldn’t believe no one else had.

He nearly laughed out loud from your message. This was definitely a concern of someone whose star of fame was up there in the stratosphere. He didn’t consider his fame to be anywhere near that high. Yeah, he had fans that ventured on highly over spirited, but on the ever swinging pendulum of fame, he was somewhere a few notches past middle ground. He was glad for it. Already he found his level of fame to be somewhat invasive and debilitating. He could not imagine dealing with your level of fame.

MSG Your Phone: I’m not nearly important enough for anyone to want to hack into my phone to blast info. Also, yes, this is the twenty-first century, but I am anything but the average man. That doesn’t apply to me.

You liked his reply. It said a lot about him but also left so many things hidden, things you absolutely wanted to know more about.

MSG Henry’s Phone: So, there is nothing on your phone that you wouldn’t want a stranger, me seeing?

You thought back to his pictures and the women in his text history and wondered how he would respond. This time you finished your wine with the raise of your hand and poured the remaining contents of the bottle into it as you waited for his reply.

Immediately his mind went to his suggestive nudes and the messages with Abby and Francesca. Those were the only two things he worried about.

MSG Your Phone: Yes, there are things I wouldn’t want you seeing. A stranger, I don’t really care.

Your message came in almost immediately.

MSG Henry’s Phone: What makes me so different? I am a stranger.

Smiling, he turned off the fire, took up the saucepan and poured the caramelized onion, garlic, butter, and wine sauce over his perfectly prepared steak. After putting the saucepan in the sink for washing later, he walked to the dining table with his steak and potatoes dish. He was still living on a high protein diet to keep himself in Witcher shape.

MSG Your Phone: So I’m a stranger?

MSG Your Phone: Yes. I don’t know you.

He thought about your words for a few moments as he sliced a piece of his steak to pop into his mouth. As he chewed, he knew the right response.

MSG Your Phone: Do you want to know me?

It was bold as hell. You couldn’t believe the words as you reread them for the fourth time. What the hell did you say to that? What did he expect you to say? What did you want to say? The only answer that fits every question was you didn’t know.

MSG Your Phone: Something easier then. Why don’t you have a code on your phone?

Sighing out in relief, you took a few gulps of your wine.

MSG Henry’s Phone: I did, I was in the process of changing it when I bumped into you and never completed it, so both were void.

MSG Your Phone: Oh, so it was fate then.

You almost rolled your eyes into the back of your head so far they got stuck.

MSG Henry’s Phone: Fate?

MSG Your Phone: Yes, fate that we bumped into each other at the exact moment you took the code off your phone and then happened to have lost your phone to me. Fate that gave me ten days to peruse it if I chose to. Fate that gave me ten days to make a plan.

Your smile was widening every second that ticked by. The man was charismatic.

MSG Henry’s Phone: A plan? To what exactly?

His smile was big. This was going just as he hoped. The only thing left for him to do was take it there.

MSG Your Phone: To make you mine.

He wished he could see your face right now.

Gasping for air, you continued to cough. The wine was still trapped in your windpipe. As you struggled for air, you tried to calm your panic. After several moments you found yourself able to catch a full breath.

“Holy shit,” you finally gasped. The man was bold as hell for real. You read the message again, and again each time the shock remained. You couldn’t believe he actually said that. A flirtatious feeling washed over you, and you decided to run with it.

MSG Henry’s Phone: You can’t make something or someone a possession that doesn’t want to be possessed.

MSG Your Phone: I think you want to be possessed.

Scoffing, you shook your head and stared at the London Eye again and looked over the lights of the city.

MSG Henry’s Phone: Are you sure?

As soon as you sent the message, his phone chimed again, except this wasn’t a message from him. It was from Abby. Almost instantly, a sour taste filled your mouth, and your face reflected that. It was like a slap to your face telling you to wake the hell up and come back to reality. That was when your bitch face came out to play.

MSG Your Phone: Pretty sure, but you tell me.

MSG Henry’s Phone: You should call Abby. She’s sent you fourteen messages today, most recent right now. Goodbye, Henry.

Closing out messages, you gently tossed his phone onto the small table on the balcony, grabbed your glass, and looked out over the city.

For the next four days, any message he sent you ignored. The one thought that kept racing through your head was that there were currently two women that were continually texting him. Though you didn’t know the specifics of why the whole situation screamed messy. You didn’t do messy; you didn’t do love triangles or squares, you didn’t do anything that screamed complicated or distracting. You didn’t care how attracted you were to him. You wouldn’t compromise your ideals for anyone—not again.

When he changed his tactics from texting to calling, you ignored those too. You were tempted to answer, and on several occasions, you almost did until your stubbornness triumphed. You were victorious until one night in your room as you soaked in the tub after another long day. His phone rang loudly. Somehow you knew it was him. You didn’t know how, but you knew. When you reached for it and glanced at the screen, you loudly groaned as your suspicions proved correct. Closing your eyes, you tried to decide on if you’d answer or not.

“Hello?”

“Hi.” His voice sounded so damn good, and by the way, your belly flipped, you knew it agreed.

“Hey,” you nonchalantly replied.

“Did I catch you at a bad time?”

“Uh, not really. Not unless you call catching me in the bath a bad time,” you teased.

“Oh. I’m sorry,” Henry quickly stammered.

“It’s fine. How can I help you?”

Yeah, it was slightly cold, but maybe cold was the right way to be. “Hello? Henry?”

You heard him release a puff of breath. You could imagine what it smelled like. You couldn’t picture it.

“Whew, this is the second time I’ve heard you say my name, and it had the same effect as the first time.”

Your belly again flipped. It was becoming a normal reaction to his words.

“What was the effect of the first time?”

He didn’t speak immediately, and after a minute of silence, you wondered if he would.

“So I’m about two weeks away from finishing reshoots and prep for season two for Witcher and I really, really need some time off. I had no idea how much the process had run me down. I am physically exhausted,” he mentioned.

“A lot of action, huh. I saw some episodes of the first season.”

“Nice. Yeah, it’s a lot of working out and fight training. It goes on and on,” he explained.

“Poor thing.” You were teasing him, and when he chuckled, you were glad he caught it and didn’t take offense from your condescending tone. The lite humor worked to ease away any tension in the air between you.

“This is strange. I’m talking to someone on their cell phone while they talk to me on mine.”

“I can see how that would be strange,” Henry replied.

Silence fell between you again. It was a mixture of a comfortable one and one of nervousness.

“I have to tell you before I miss my chance. You have the most amazing voice I have ever heard, and you’re an amazing artist.”

With a racing heart and a wide grin on your face, you closed your eyes and tried to get control over the butterflies in your belly. It took you several moments to get a grip. This was not the first time you’d gotten a compliment like this, but this was the first time it made you feel like this.

“Thank you. That’s—kind of you to say.”

“Just stating facts. I’ve always been a fan of your music,” Henry added.

“Thank you for that.”

“You’re welcome. How’s work?”

You sighed and dropped your head back on the cushion there. “Exhausting. I need a vacation or to stop getting on a plane. It takes a lot out of me,” you confessed.

“We both need a vacation it seems,” Henry began. The way his voice sounded had you lifting your head to read between the lines.

“Are you insinuating that we should take a vacation together?”

“I wasn’t insinuating anything. I was thinking it, though. Seems you read my mind. Sounds like a good idea.”

You snorted as soon as he finished. “How? We don’t know each other,” you piped up.

“What’s a better way to get to know each other than on vacation?”

Your jaw dropped. The man was insane. “You’re crazy. That’s a horrible idea.”

“Tomato, tomato.”

Your laugh was loud and almost uncontrollable. You had to give it to him, his sense of humor was top notch.

“Plus, after our date in a few days, we’ll know each other better,” Henry confidently slid in.

“What date?”

“The date you want to show up for when we exchange phones.”

Usually, this level of cockiness in a man was unattractive. You’d left plenty of them hanging for far less. With him, you found yourself not hating the cocky spiel maybe because it came off as something else—intoxicating confidence.

“I hear an accent, too,” Henry said, pulling you out of your thoughts.

“What accent?”

“An Australian one. It’s faint on most words but heavy on a few.” You smiled. You’d thought it had mainly disappeared by now.

“Not many people can hear it,” you clarified.

“I’m good with accents and languages. I know French, some Italian, a few words and phrases in German and Czech.”

You decided to test that theory.

“Combien de temps at-il fallu pour apprendre le français?” (How long did it take you to learn French?)

“Peu de temps peut être cinq mois.” (Not long maybe five months.) Henry responded in perfect French.

A thrill filled you.

"Und Deutsch?”

"Deutsch dauerte länger etwa acht Monate.” (German took longer about eight months) Henry replied in perfect enough German.

“You speak French and German?”

“A very little bit, trust me, it wasn’t my idea. You sound like a native, though,” you complimented.

“Thanks. I try.”

The longer you spoke, the more intrigued you became by him, and the more intrigued you became, the more attracted to him you became. You checked the phone and saw you’d already been talking for almost forty minutes. It didn’t feel nearly that long, though. You could hear his breathing through the phone. It wasn’t heavy breathing, but soft breaths that you imagines were pleasantly warm. When you thought it, you dropped your head back to the cushion in frustration.

“It’s pretty late here, and I have an early call tomorrow,” you began.

“Right, I’m sorry to have kept you up.”

“It’s okay—I guess.”

“All right, have a good night,” Henry ended.

“Goodbye, Henry.”

You ended the call and sank low in the water, but not low enough to wet your hair.

“I don’t need this now,” you groaned out before you slapped your hand on top of the water creating a small wave that splashed over the edge of the tub and cascaded onto the floor. You had to figure out a way to nip this in the bud.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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***There are a few that are bold that I tried to tag but your @ wasn’t coming up. I’m not sure why. I’m sorry.***

#kismet fic #henry cavill #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill x you #henry cavill x black reader #black fanfiction #henry cavill x ofc #slow burn fanfic

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