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#But now... a smart phone isn't just something fancy you can have anymore. Not on a campus setting anyway. It's a necessity
Don't get me wrong, I love having a smartphone but... there was something about this era of cell phones that was just so... texture
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📞.📞||📞.📞||📞.📞
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anjelicawrites · 3 months
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Cringefail Throuple 💡
On a rainy day with the cringies, Reader and Billy are watching some kind of trashy reality tv, while Michael reads a stuffy intellectual book. He sits on the couch with them, but he scoffs at whatever they choose to watch.
Flash forward to about three hours later, and Michael is screaming blood murder at the tv because how DARE Tiffany wear an outfit that slutty to Rebecca’s classy holiday party!?!?!?!
It takes a good long fucking to calm him down.
Warnings: reference to panic attacks, Billy's car bomb, kissing, prostate massage, orgasm denial, overstimulation, oral (male receiving), anal fingering, anal, p in v sex.
NSFW and 18+ only please!
Billy started watching what Michael calls 'Trash food for your brain' TV right after surviving the bomb car incident. For some months, even though he was seeing a therapist on line, he couldn't stand setting foot outside his parents' home; the fact that their house had been besieged by journalists for weeks hadn't help his mental health but, even if that weren't the case, he couldn't stand the outside world without falling prey of panic attacks. To stop the awful thoughts in his head, and to pass the time, he had started watching all brain killing daytime TV; he didn't truly follow the storylines, he just needed the constant white noise in the background. Now that he's doing so much better, and has you and Michael by his side, it's simply a way to unwind from the stress of stepping up at the pub. Secretly he is following a couple of storylines and he's keeping mum about it, he knows Michael will never let him hear the end of it!
You have started because of a couple of friends who wanted the option of someone smart on the crazy, oftentimes, toxic situations the authors create for the participants. You and your friends still have the WhatsApp group created for this occasion even though commenting in real time is not something you can do anymore. You maintain the habit whenever you are crashing at Billy's and want some down time to completely shut down your brain.
Usually Michael is not with you and Billy when this happens, he bitches and moans too much on how this trash is bad for both your brains and you two should do something different to unwind, like reading. Billy isn't much of a reader himself and you need to stop your brain from overworking, sometimes, and a book is of no help, staring blankly at the screen works for you.
It's a rainy weekend that has forced you three to change your plans and stay at home, moping a bit because you and Michael will have your exams soon and will be drowning in work for weeks and wished to be out and about, before the library swallows you two whole. You've curled next to Billy who is playing on his phone while some inane trash reality plays in the background, Michael is sitting on the only armchair with a thick tome about some mathematical problem you'd rather ignore and is groaning whenever the people on the screen are raising their voices too much for his own tastes. You've elected to ignore him and just let yourself be lulled into a semi conscious state by the rain pelting the windows and the stupid conversations on screen.
You jump awake when Michael shouts, finger pointing at the TV. For a moment you don't truly understand what he's saying, then your ears pick up his indignant tone: apparently one of the housewives of God knows where has arrived at this fancy birthday party dressed like a hooker. You stare owlishly at Billy, hoping he would help you understand what's happening on the screen; he can only shrug his shoulders.
"He's getting into it." Billy tells you. "He's been huffing like a boiling pot since the episode started." "Why?" The situation is so surreal you think you are still sleeping and having a weird ass dream. "Someone tried to do a sum and failed. He picked that up and was hooked ever since." "54 plus 67" comes from the armchair. "What?" You're too sleepy for math at the moment. "The simple sum. Look at that!" Michael snaps, finger pointed to the TV in the corner.
Billy snickers as you try to focus on the images on the screen. OK, the housewives rarely venture into classy territory: what's having Micheal's panties in a bunch?
"Those boots with that dress? You're never shagging her husband!"
Still feeling like you've walked into an alternate reality, you stare at Michael, who is sitting on the armchair, back hunched forward, his hands like claws around the worn fabric of the armchair. You recognize the behavior: he acted like this when Oliver decided to tag along with Felix's crowd, way before Billy became part of your lives. You had to go through countless rants against vapid cunts and bootlickers and there was only one thing that helped kicking him out of this mood.
You nudge Billy who is having too much fun just looking at Michael getting more incensed with each passing minute and stand up, throwing your sweater and shirt on the floor, before straddling Michael's legs.
"Now, I think you've had too much trash telly for today, what do you say?"
Michael is hyperfocusing so much that he doesn't notice your naked breasts, it takes Billy's hand in his hair to force his line of sight away from the screen to your naked skin.
"If you're not interested we can start without you, genius boy." Billy says.
You take the glasses off Michael's nose and put them on the floor.
"You're not going to need those for a while, love."
Before Michael can start complaining, Billy's lips slant over his, tongue ruthlessly fucking Michael's slack mouth; soon moans escape when your start playing with his nipples, the cold of your fingers against his inflamed skin sends shockwaves through his body, his mind absolutely focused on you and Billy and the raging erection in his trousers.
Still kissing, Billy has Michael standing up as you undo his trousers and guide him to the couch, where Billy bends Michael over, with his hands on the backrest and his legs spread for easy reaching. You kneel on the floor, one hand around Michael's erection, jacking him slowly with a loose fist, aiming at torturing him while Billy's finds the lube stashed under the cushions.
"Shit!" Michael's hips jut forward in the pathetic attempt to take control. "Go faster!" "Are you going to beg?" "Ah! No!" He moans, tears pooling in his eyes. "Then I should have some more fun."
Michael's complaints die on his tongue when your lips slowly envelope his weeping head, all of his movements controlled by Billy's hand on his hip, who is now in forcing Michael to sit still as you slowly blow him, your fingers tight around his base to make sure he's not coming before you and Billy allow him to.
Over you, the sticky sounds of your lovers kissing resume, accompanied by the squelching of the lube poured over Michael's hole, followed by Billy's long fingers fucking hard and fast against his prostate. Michael wails and moans with every passing of your lips up and down his length, your mouth tight enough to tease but not to make him come, Billy's fingers bullying his prostate make his knee wobble and the know in his belly tighten almost to the point of pain. He needs, needs to come, empty his bollocks all over your face, if only you'd lose your fingers around his base!
"Not so fast, genius boy. I think you need to stop thinking before you get to come".
Billy drawls against Michael's ear, before his teeth find the meat of his shoulder and bite down savagely, the pain forcing Michael over the abyss with a pained wail.
Michael's body shudders when the fingers in his arse don't stop fucking against his prostate and his balls are still full and heavy. Your tongue licks the thin fluid bubbling from his cock head, before you resume slowly blowing him, now swallowing around his cock until you're flush against him and his vision turns black.
Again and again pleasure ravages through him, until his bollocks hurt and he can't stand up anymore, not that this stops you and Billy from torturing him while you two help him on his back, by letting his heavy cock slap against his contracted abs.
Michael trembles and tries to breath when you two stop touching him just to stare at his body covered in sweat and your saliva. He's beautiful and debauched with his legs spread and cock hard, a thin line of spit sleeping from his parted lips. He moans when you take his erection in your hands again and roll the condom on, before your cunt envelops him slowly: you can't risk him coming just now.
You can feel Michael's full body shudders when Billy's cock breaches him, Michael's hole already fucked so thoroughly, that Billy bottoms out easily, before he starts grinding against his prostate, slow and thorough, just following the leisure rhythm of your hips and Michael's high pitched wails.
"Look at us." You order.
Michael's tears stained eyes fixate on your body as Billy's hands cup your breasts and play with your nipples, his lips finding yours in a passionate kiss that have both you and Michael moan. If it weren't for your weight and Billy's, Michael's hip would have already bucked wildly under you when your muscles clench, strangling his cock, which has his arse curl tightly around Billy's engorged erection; Billy can't help it but fuck Michael with harder and faster pushes and Michael is babbling, desperate to come, every cell of his being ready to explode.
"Don't you dare!" You pant. "Not yet!"
Michael's fingers grab your arse, helping you grind tighter against him, your muscles curling around him to the point of pain, Billy's hands grasp his hips to anchor himself to push inside of him like the desperate man that he is, almost mad with the pleasure Michael's tight arse is giving him.
Michael's back arches when he comes, his nails grab at your skin with a savagery that leaves marks behind, the pain kick starting your orgasm, your cunt a vise around Michael who whines and screams, his arse so tight that Billy comes with a shout, before falling over you, effectively trapping Michael under your combined weights.
The bloody sofa is too small to house you three, not that any of you cares, breathless as you all are, your brains still coming down from the incredible high you have experienced.
You nuzzle Michael's neck, your tongue licking the sweat there.
"She's already shagged her friend's husband. You'd know that if you'd followed the whole season."
The vibrations of Billy's laughter travel down your back and Michael huffs under you: if he gets to be fucked like this every time you three watch trash TV together he's happy to watch every single episode!
Cringefail throuple taglist: @fan-goddess @solisarium
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lovelytarou · 3 years
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just let me adore you
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— in which dabi wanted to buy you clothes and see you in only the best cloths there is in the world, the only problem is how you see yourself and he will do anything to prove how much he adores you
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pairing: dabi x female!reader
genre: fluff, slight angst if you squint, suggestive
tags: hurt/comfort??, the reader's insecurities (nothing too detailed), negative thoughts, i advise not to read this if you don't want any of that
a/n: i'm so excited to post this that i just can't wait another day!!! also pls give feedback i spent all my love and time in this instead of schoolworks sksksk but really, i hope y'all like this and i'm sorry if i made dabi too soft in this, the fandom needs more soft dabi every once in a while. sorry if i'm putting my inner dabi fuckr in this fic 🤧
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“what are you wearing?” dabi asked one night after you emerged from the shower.
you saw him lounging in your shared bedroom, waiting for you as he was scrolling on his phone when you arrived from work. you quickly excused yourself and took a shower with a promise of cuddling with him afterwards.
snaking your arms on his neck, you gave a peck on his cheek and grinned.
“it's one of my old shirts, why?” you frowned, looking down at your clothes.
dabi wrapped his arm on your waist, holding you closer to his body as you sit on his lap. his other hand reached up to your face and tucked your still damp hair behind your ear.
“it looks like shit,” he bluntly admitted while looking in your eyes fondly.
that earned an offended gasp from you as you attempted to wiggle out of his grip but to no avail. dabi may not look like it, but he sure is one muscular guy.
“well, i'm sorry if i don't have such expensive tastes when it comes to casual clothing!” you huffed, crossing your arms over your chest. the action itself made dabi look down on your breasts and bit his lip.
if only you can see how he sees you right now.
“exactly. you only deserve to wear the finest silk,” his hand travels down your exposed thighs, slightly lifting up the oversized shirt in the process.
“the most exquisite lace that shows off your boobs and your delicious curves,” his voice dropped into a sultry tone, his wandering hands squeezing your sides making you smack him playfully on his chest.
“stop it!” you hid your face on his neck, his jaw resting on the top of your head.
“what? it's true.” he chuckles, kissing your hair.
he brought his index finger under your chin so you can meet his eyes. there is nothing but love and adoration swimming in those beautiful teal irises.
“i love seeing you in fancy clothes, but...” his warm breath that faintly smelled of smoke and mint that makes your head spin fanned your face, his lips ghosting over yours in a gentle dance.
as if the world turned upside down, you're now on your back as dabi towered over you, “you're even gorgeous when naked,”
his lips sealed over yours again and again. that night, he threw your old shirt where it could not be seen anymore and you were more than thankful for it as you spent the entire night making love.
the next few days, dabi made it his mission to buy (read: steal) clothes for you. in the morning after hours of rearranging your guts, dabi basically threw away all of your clothes in the trash and made you wear his shirts. you almost wringed his neck because of that but you let it slide when he told you that he'd replace them with better ones.
back at the league of villains hideout, dabi eyed all of the people gathered around the room. shigaraki's currently holding a meeting for their next attack and here he is, imagining you in the most beautiful outfit he'd get for you.
his teal eyes landed on the back of himiko's blonde head.
heaving a heavy sigh, he kicked toga's seat.
“hey, nutjob” he called lowly, not wanting to get the others' attention.
she scoffed at the nickname before turning her body towards him.
“what is it, staples? do you need something?” she cocked an eyebrow at him, playing with her knife in boredom.
“yeah. you like...cute things, right?” dabi inwardly cringed at his choice of words. never ever in his life did he imagine he would say such things to someone and worst of all, he needed her help.
toga chuckled lightly at him, noticing the small blush on dabi's face.
“oh? what's this all of a sudden? are you taking a liking to me now?” toga's smirk widened upon seeing the latter's growing annoyance.
“in your dreams,” dabi grumbled, “i needed help with something.”
pinching the bridge of his nose, dabi closed his eyes and cursed at himself. after this conversation, his colleague would definitely find something to tease him for. but then again, he's willing to look like a fool if it's for you.
after the boring meeting that lasted for approximately four hours, dabi and toga exited the hideout to raid a few malls.
“i don't understand why you didn't just choose the clothes yourself?” toga hummed, examining a cute top with cat prints on it.
she placed it over her front and modeled it in the mirror before her, posing this way and that. from the corner of her eye, she sees dabi leaning against the wall, arms crossed with a bored look on his face.
“don't you think i wouldn't ask for your help if i can do that?” dabi rolled his eyes in exhaustion, this is taking too much time. the two of them have been in twenty shops already and raided five malls in only half a day.
toga poked her tongue at him and clutched the cute top along with the other clothing. she pushed them all into dabi's arms, making him drop most of it on the floor.
she suddenly stopped and gasped as they exited the store, the neon pink lights reflecting on her eyes as she squealed in delight.
without warning, toga dragged dabi into the lingerie store.
upon entering, the cashier immediately cowered under the counter as the two villains surveyed the place. the person was about to reach for the telephone when toga stabbed the glass counter near their hand.
“don't even think about it,” she grinned down at them menacingly.
dabi ignored them as he looked around. it's filled with many lingeries that he doesn't know which one to look at first. there is no doubt that anyone would love to see their lover dressed in those promiscuous outfits.
his thoughts immediately wandered over to you, dressed in black lace set, writhing under him and making pretty noises just for him.
before his lewd thoughts could wander, he called toga over and nodded his head at the item of clothing he's been eyeing.
“i want that one.”
the first thing you noticed upon coming home was that it's empty. the mugs that was left in the sink that morning was still where you last saw them, the unfolded laundry is still in the basket, and the television in the living room is off.
dabi must not be home yet.
you let a small frown form on your face. you had expected to come home to your beloved boyfriend and welcome you with open arms and kisses.
today wasn't the best of days, to say the least. the series of bad things after another drove you mad and all you wanted was to go home and be wrapped in your lover's hug as if the two of you are the only people in the world that exists.
taking your shoes off, you padded towards your shared bedroom and slowly took off your work clothes and sat on the edge of the bed with a sigh.
rubbing your arms, you caught sight of yourself in the body length mirror at the corner.
your gaze lingered for a long while, eyeing every expanse of skin exposed. you chewed on your lip anxiously as you made your way to the mirror.
your mind was clouded with negative thoughts and jabs at yourself. this is the reason why you hated being alone, you are left with nothing but hate at yourself and there's nobody to pull you out of it. you are suffering by yourself and having to push through it.
slowly, you unwrapped your arms from your sides and stared at the body in front of you. staring from head to toe, listing each thing that you find a flaw, an insecurity, an imperfection.
what did dabi see in you?
you don't have the most attractive body that rivalled any pro-hero's, or a killer charisma, a beautiful face that could take anyone's breath away, your skin isn't as clear as the ones the models in tv and magazines have, you have a lot of scars from childhood and growing up, there are uneven skin color, a wound, and your hair isn't as pretty as other girls'.
so, why? why did dabi stayed? why did he, a handsome, powerful, strong, smart man, asked you to be his girlfriend when he could have anyone he wanted in the world that is much better than you?
tears streamed down your face as your body was wracked with sobs. slowly sliding down to the floor, you clutched your chest as you felt an excruciating agony. repeating over and over in your head why dabi doesn't love you.
through your tears and cry of pain, you didn't hear the door open and close. nor the sound of your boyfriend's voice calling to you or the door to the bedroom opening and the sound of numerous shopping bags falling to the ground as dabi takes hurried steps towards you, who is reduced to a ball of sadness on the floor.
“baby? what's wrong? why are you crying?” he didn't get too close to you at first, expecting you might not want any sort of contact at your moment of vulnerability and decided to ask you instead.
you're still trembling as small sobs leave your lips.
you gasped, shocked to hear that he's home as you quickly sat up and sloppily wiped your tears with your hands and arms.
“d-dabi! you're home!” you sniffled, doing your best to look alright although it's futile since he has already seen you crying your eyes out.
your boyfriend can only look at you with concern filling his eyes. he hovered his hand in midair between the two of you as he looked at your eyes intently. you answered him wordlessly by leaning towards his touch.
it evoked a sigh of relief from your lips as you felt his charred and normal skin, clutching his arm like your life depended on it. and maybe at that moment, it did.
he's relieved to know that he's not who you were upset about, but it didn't lessen his worry.
dabi leaned down to kiss your temple, his lips lingering there as he brought your face close to his chest.
“tell me what's got my baby so upset,” he mumbled against the skin. hearing the deep rumble of his voice against his chest calmed you down a bit.
you closed your eyes as you exhaled, surrounding yourself with dabi. his scent, his touch, the feeling of his heart beating against your ear, his lulling voice pulling you out of your waning thoughts.
“it's...stupid,” you laughed breathily, shaking your head.
“nothing about you is stupid, angel.” he immediately rebutted, pinching your waist.
you hid your face in his chest, not wanting him to see you like this. vulnerable and weak.
“i-i was just having a bad day, and all i want was to come home to you and...” you paused, your thoughts suddenly coming back to you. you fought a sob that threatened to spill from your lips, biting it down.
“i don't understand what you see in me,” you whispered, voice cracking at the end.
he shushed you softly, stroking your hair and rubbing your lower back in circles.
never in his life had he seen you so down. you seemed like the type of person who always got their shit together. like nothing wrong ever happens in their life. he'll look at you and all he sees is this amazing woman who loves to smile and bring happiness in his miserable life.
he admits that he may not be the best boyfriend in the world, but damn it if he didn't even make you happy every second of every day of your life like you did in his.
seeing you so upset makes him want to go out there and find whatever that will make you smile again.
“i'm sorry i'm not home to comfort you, baby. but i'm here now, okay? i don't like seeing you cry, pretty girl.” he muttered, facing your head up to him as he pecked your tears away.
you softly giggled at the nickname.
“you wanna know what i saw in you?” he asked, and you nodded your head at him.
his lips fluttered over your forehead, giving you a kiss there, “you're the most amazing person i've ever met–” another kiss on your nose, “the most beautiful, sweet, caring–” a kiss on your eyelids, the apples of your cheeks, “you're so fucking hot and kind that i didn't know what i did in my fucked up life to deserve you.”
he cupped both of your cheeks in his hands and made you look into his eyes. there's still the same adoration and love in them, it made your heart swell with many emotions just for him. only he can make your heart beat wildly inside your chest.
not letting him say another word, you surged forward and crashed your lips to his in a deep, passionate kiss. a few tears escaped, but this time it's because of happiness and the overwhelming love he have for you.
you were both panting when you pulled away, grinning stupidly as your foreheads touch, staring lovingly into each other's eyes.
“i love you, d'you know that?” you breathed out, pecking his lips once more.
“yeah, i know.” dabi smirked, wrapping his arms around you and picking you up. your legs wrapped around his slim waist in return.
he threw the both of you on the bed, you on his lap as he stared up at you with a lovestruck look in his eyes.
“say it back!” you whined, pouting playfully at him.
he pecked your lips this time and tugged softly on your bottom lip, making you moan.
slowly, you felt him lower you down on the mattress as he placed open-mouthed kisses from your jaw to your neck. the fire ignited inside your core as you gripped his biceps, the way his lips are doing things to you, you can't help but just lay there accept all he had to offer.
“mmm, i love you, too. but i wanted to show you how much instead,” he whispered lowly in your ear before biting at your sweet spot and creating a mark for everyone to see.
his lips traveled lower to where you needed him the most, gripping his hair as you sang beautiful songs for him.
“y/n! are you done, yet?” dabi asked for the umpteenth time that day as he waited for you to come out of your shared bedroom.
you both decided to go on a date and it's been two hours since you told him that you're ‘almost done’. he's been waiting patiently for you, knowing that you'd come out of that room and take his breath away. hell, you can wear the dirtiest rags and he'd still think you're the most beautiful girl he has ever seen.
“just one sec!” you called out from inside.
he couldn't help but groan in annoyance, his patience wearing thin.
he glanced at the time on his phone.
how long are you gonna be in there for?
“babe, i swear if you don't come out of there after five minutes, i'll leave without y-”
he didn't get to finish his words as you came out of the bedroom wearing only the skimpiest, thinnest, and revealing lingerie that left nothing to imagination.
he found himself swallowing his words as his gaze hungrily drank your figure up and down, focusing on every detail, every skin exposed to his eyes.
you decided to tease him, wearing only the lingerie he had ‘bought’ you a few days ago. you were surprised when he did admit he had bought the clothes for you. when asked when he got the money from, he only said that he stole it from some ‘abusive bastard's credit card’.
you shyly standing there wearing a sexy outfit did nothing to his raging problem. within seconds, he stood in front of you, staring at you like you were some sort of goddess that graced the earth and he'd happily kiss the ground you walk on.
“did you...like it?” you hesitantly asked, looking up at him as you played with the ribbons of the lace hugging your body.
his pupils dilated, eyes darkening with want and he picked you up as you squealed in surprise, carrying you back to the bedroom.
“that's it, the date can wait another day.”
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Text
Ocean Eyes - Part 10
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A/N- Another update??? What is going on??! hope you all enjoy this part 💕 Please like/share/reblog.
Within days of being back home from our weekend at Chris's the lockdown was announced and I spent a day packing up some of mine and Masons belongings that we might need while staying with Chris. While i was feeling very nervous about having to spend this time with Chris, Mason was over the moon! He was so excited that we had to go stay with Chris and Dodger.
Chris arrived early with Scott and they loaded our things into Chris's car.
"This is gonna be so much fun!" Scott said happily.
"Are you staying at Chris's too?"
"I am!"
"Oh god that means you're gonna be trying to get me drunk!"
"Well duh!" He laughed shrugging like it should have been a given.
"God help me you two are gonna be trouble" Chris said shaking his head as he helped Mason into his carseat.
"You knew what you were getting yourself into".
While Chris and Scott started bickering i turned and saw Brian coming out of his house, he stood and watched us and then started to walk towards us.
"Oh shit.... quick lets go, Brians coming over!"
"This guy!" Chris said through gritted teeth shaking his head and looking a little pissed off.
"Morning neighbour!" Brian called out, i turned and gave a quick wave.
"You and Mason leaving?"
"Yep, we're gonna ride this out with family" i nodded and felt Chris wrap his arm around my waist and pull me closer to him.
"Come on sweetheart we should go"
"Yeah sure, take care Brian"
"Wait, you look so familiar...." Brian suddenly said looking more closely at Chris "where have i seen you before?"
"I just have one of those faces, i get that a lot" Chris shrugged casually opening my door for me.
"Yeah maybe..... hey Y/N, i was thinking after this lockdown is over maybe you and i can get dinner...."
Was he serious right now??
"Dude really??!....." Chris snapped looking at Brian shaking his head.
"What?"
Chris closed my door and stood towering over Brian as they exchanged words i could no longer hear. Chris was soon strutting round to the driver side of the car while Brian stood there looking pissed. I turned to look at Chris as he got into the car, he was fuming. He started the car and pulled away onto the road, his grip on the steering wheel so tight his knuckles went white.
"Hey, you okay?" I asked him quietly.
"I will be knowing you and Mason are away from that creep"
"What did you say to him?"
"We'll talk about it later, i don't want Mace to hear"
"Okay, but can you please try and calm down....."
"Im Fine"
"Tell your face that, plus you're kinda white knuckling the steering wheel there....."
"Sorry.... sorry. Im fine really...." he loosened his grip and gave me a tight lipped smile.
"Always so protective" Scott chuckled from the back seat earning him a glare in the rear view mirror.
"Scott i swear to god...."
"Come on boys behave, this lockdown hasn't even started yet and you're bickering"
"You sure you don't wanna go stay with Ma....." Chris muttered at Scott making us all laugh.
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The first week of lockdown quickly passed, there was no news on when the lockdown would let up so we were all just enjoying our time together.....It was just like old times. I called my mom and Hannah everyday just to check in and have some female conversation but other than that it was just me and the Evan's boys in our little quarantine bubble.
I was in the kitchen making breakfast when Chris walked in sporting a new haircut..... the buzzcut was back!
"Wow...... you've shaved your hair...."
"Yeah" he run his hand over his head blushing a little "fancied a change, its been a long time since i can just cut my hair when i want"
"Right, Marvel owned it before"
"No...."
"You know i'm right" i shrugged "i always did like the buzzcut look though"
"Yeah i remember....." he smirked.
"Morning family!" Scott said loudly walking into the kitchen "What happened to your hair??"
"Fancied a change, plus now i haven't gotta worry about my hair everyday"
"You know that actually sounds kinda smart..... have you seen my bed head??"
"Kinda hard to miss Scotty" i snickered behind my hand looking at his hair that was sticking up left, right and centre.
"Maybe i should do it too"
"And me!" Mason said smiling big at us "i want hair like dads too!"
"Oh my god Chris what have you started..."
"Sorry...."
"No its fine, its only hair. It'll grow back right.... i guess now is as good a time as any for a haircut".
After breakfast Chris took Mason for his hair cut while i showered and dressed for the day. The next time i saw them all three were sporting buzzcuts and i had to admit it was very cute!
"Let me get a photo of you three, this is just too cute to pass up" i smiled grabbing my phone. I snapped a few photo's and forwarded them to Chris and Scott before setting one as my lock screen and slipping my phone back into my pocket.
"Oh my god i love this.... i'm gonna get this blown up and framed on my wall" Chris smiled looking at the photo.
"Let me get one of you three" Scott jumped up and pulled me towards the sofa where Chris and Mason still sat.
"Oh.... we dont have to do that....."
"Come on, it'll be nice to have at least one photo of the three of us" Chris said looking up at me with those damn ocean eyes of his that always made me week.
"Okay, sure" i nodded taking the seat next to Mason.
"Move in a bit closer....." Scott said trying to get us all in frame, we both leaned in closer to Mason and smiled while Scott took the photo.
"Oh i'm good..... this is great you guys" Scott said before both our phones were receiving photo's from Scott. I couldn't help the smile on my face when i saw how lovely the photo had come out.
"Okay you did good, i love this"
"This ones going up too by the way" Chris looked at me with a huge smile.
"You don't have to do that...."
"You kidding me? I want to"
"Fair enough, its your house. I just don't think your girlfriend will appreciate it much".
"Okay..... who wants lunch??" Scott asked loudly interrupting, it had suddenly got a bit awkward at the mention of Lindsey so i just got up quickly and followed Scott into the kitchen.
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Once Mason was in bed for the night the alcohol came out. We watched some old movie (that Chris found hilarious) played some card games which somehow led to childish drinking games and before we knew it we were all pretty wasted!
"Right you guys i'm going to bed, i physically can not drink anymore" Scott said getting to his feet and stumbling making Chris and I laugh.
"Dude you're such a lightweight" Chris rolled his eyes at his brother.
"Shut up. Goodnight.... love you both"
"Night Scotty, love you" i smiled up at him from where i was laying on sofa.
"Night bro, love ya".
Chris and I sat in silence for a few minutes, just the sounds on the TV playing in the background.
"You want another beer?" He asked getting up from the armchair he had been occupying all night.
"Sure, i'll have one more before bed".
While Chris went to grab the beers i sat and reached for my phone to make sure i hadn't missed any messages from my mom or Hannah. There was a photo from Hannah that made me laugh just as Chris walked back in with the beers.
"Hannah just sent me this photo..." i said to him turning my phone to show him a photo of Lucas who now had a buzzcut.
"Haha! Oh god i really started something didn't i?" He laughed looking a bit guilty.
"I sent her a photo of Mason's new haircut earlier, she said Lucas wouldn't shut up about wanting the same.... looks like he got his way"
"You gotta admit it looks cute though?"
"Yeah okay i'll give you that. Mason is like your little mini me, even more so than usual"
"He’s just missing the beard"
"I think we've still got some time until that happens" i laughed "you definitely have strong genes Evans.....that boy literally inherited none of my looks"
"No but he's got your attitude and sass"
"Hey!"
"Im kidding.... mostly"
"Ass" i muttered shaking my head at him before taking a mouthful of my beer.
"He might look like me but his personality is all you sweetheart... he's an amazing kid"
"Yeah he is, id be lost without him"
"I kinda love having you both here" Chris added avoiding eye contact with me.
"Its been nice, just remember its not permanent...."
"I know, i know" he nodded quickly "you know when i came in and saw you laughing at your phone, my first thought was that it might've been Derek.... i hate that guy and i don't even know him" he scoffed "how sad is that?"
"Chris....."
"I know, its none of my business who you date or whatever"
"You're right it is none of your business. But just for the record, there's nothing going on with Derek, we were gonna go for dinner before this lockdown stuff but i haven't spoken to him since"
"Oh...."
"Can i ask you something?" I turned to face him, he looked up and nodded finally looking at me.
"Why isn't Lindsey here?"
"What?...."
"Why isn't Lindsey staying with you? I mean you guys are obviously serious if you came looking for that divorce but she isn't here....."
Chris looked away again coughing to clear his throat.... was he nervous??
"Lindsey isn't here because i ended it"
"What?... when?"
"When i found out i had a son. When i saw you again and realised anything i thought i felt for her was a lie"
"Are you fucking with me right now?"
"No. Im just being honest. Y/N, i know i fucked up when i ended things with us.... it was the biggest mistake of my life and i regret it everyday.... but i never stopped loving you. Not for one god damn second...."
I suddenly felt very sober, my heart pounding in my chest.
“You’re just saying this because you’ve had too much to drink...” i muttered shaking my head.
“You’re probably right, doesn’t mean its not true. Ive just been keeping it to myself” Chris suddenly got up and came to sit next me taking hold of my hand “i know my timings sucks but i just needed you to know..... and i just need to know if there is any chance at all that you’d give me another chance.....”
“Chris i really don’t think now is a good time to talk about this.... we’ve both had too much to drink..... if you’re serious about this i think we need to have this conversation sober”
“But you’re willing to have that conversation?”
“We’ll talk about it tomorrow” i nodded pulling my hand free and standing up “i’m gonna go to bed.... goodnight”.
I had to put some distance between us before i did something id regret in the morning.
It was safe to say i wouldn’t be getting much sleep tonight.
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olilas · 5 years
Text
I Watched My Ex Fall In Love With Someone Else On Facebook.
Keeping tabs on him via social media became a form of self-inflicted torture that I just couldn't quit.
- A text by Kristen King.
We broke up in the parking lot of an Uno Pizzeria in Boston.
He wanted to settle down. He wanted kids and a good job and a yard for a dog to run in. I wanted New York. And London. And maybe Thailand for a year or two. I wanted to write and to live in a shitty apartment and to be in love in a tumultuous way. I was barely 21; I didn't want it to be easy yet.
We ordered two individual deep-dish pizzas to go and sat in his car eating them in silence. We told ourselves it would be nice not to tip, or to listen to the bad '90s songs they played inside the restaurant, but maybe it was just nice to not talk for a while.
"Something isn't right," I said.
"Did they give you the wrong sauce?" He looked at me with a face of genuine concern that reminded me why I loved him.
"No. Not the pizza. Us," I said.
A spot of red sauce crept down his chin. Without permission, I wiped it away with my thumb.
Through tears, we sat in the car making promises we couldn't keep, our cold pizza unattended at our feet.
Maybe in a couple years, we promised each other.
I held onto that longer than I should have.
It was my justification three months later as I clicked through his Facebook profile late at night. I just want to see how he is, I told myself. I wonder if he's found that job yet, I reasoned. I wonder if his parents are still in good health.
I always had a good reason for going back.
Their first photograph together was taken at a party.
At least I can assume it was a party from the red Solo cup she held and his tipsy half-smile — the same one I used to tease him about. His fingers were wrapped around her waist and as I stared at my computer screen I tried not to think about how I used to feel when he put his hands the same place on me.
Maybe they're just friends. Did he know her while we were dating? I wonder if they spent the night together.
I'm not allowed to care, I reminded myself. But I did. I slammed my laptop shut. I was done torturing myself for one night. But when I fell asleep, I dreamed of him.
It was winter. Dirty snow lined the parking lot of the 7-Eleven where we bought papers to roll joints. As we leaned against the car I could feel the cold spreading through my body from the soles of my feet.
He exhaled purposefully onto me, his cloud of hot breath drifting toward me.
Like any dreamscape, it wasn't quite right. The plotline didn't make sense. Why were we standing outside rather than walking in? Why were we driving my mother's car instead of his? Why wasn't he wearing a jacket?
Why were we still together?
I took my hands out of my gloves and put them under his shirt, finding my way to his chest. He winced and then smiled at me.
"I'm just here to warm your extremities, aren't I?" he said.
"Maybe," I said, grinning.
I woke up cold, searching for him in my bed.
That brief moment after waking was always the worst. That moment when I felt like the dream was reality — like maybe we never broke up at all. That moment when I willed myself back to sleep, wishing nothing more than to return to my hand on his chest. That moment where I remembered so easily what it felt like to love and to be loved that it seemed impossible it wasn't true anymore.
I grabbed my phone from my nightstand and started scrolling through his Twitter. I needed to be with him, in whatever capacity I could. As I read the words on my screen I could hear his voice so clearly. I imagined him laughing at his own joke before posting it and smiled at the thought. I could hear his voice so easily that for a moment my bed didn't feel quite so empty.
Six months after we broke up, there was another photo: him and the girl with the red Solo cup at a baseball game. My stomach twisted as I realized she was destined to become a recurring character in his life. I scrolled through the photos of them together, each holding a drink. I wondered if she liked sports, or if she was more interested in the overpriced beers and hot dogs like I was. I wondered if she enjoyed remarking on the tightness of the player's pants, or discussing the blood alcohol content of the people around her. I wondered if they were having fun.
Seeing them together, with their easy smiles and full cups, it still didn't register that he had moved on.
Maybe in a couple of years — that promise came back to me too easily. I didn't want him now, but I didn't think that meant I couldn't have him ever.
I couldn't digest that he could fall in love with someone else while I still loved him. At that point, I didn't understand love could be one-sided like that. I couldn't imagine he told her the things he told me, or looked at her the same way.
In my deluded state, I actually felt sorry for her. This poor girl's boyfriend is in love with his ex, I thought. It's funny how easy it is to believe the unbelievable when it hurts less.
I pictured him lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, wishing the girl lying next to him was me. It was easier to imagine he was sleeplessly staring at walls, searching for me in his bed, than to believe the truth: He wasn't thinking of me at all.
The internet told me a lot about her. It told me she was beautiful and smart. It told me she was social and her smile made her seem kind. I wanted to hate her, but I couldn't.
She took pictures with children and smiled wholeheartedly in photos. She laughed in a way that seemed authentic. She looked like the kind of girl who didn't take long to get ready.
I looked at her profile and then went back to my own, attempting to step outside of myself and act as an unbiased judge between the two of us. I looked at our profiles and saw all the things we had in common, and all the things we did not. My face was more angular and sharper than hers, my hair a little less blonde. My smile didn't come as easily, except in the photos in which I was with him. She volunteered more than I did, but I seemed to get outdoors more. She looked like she came from money, and I looked like I was living on hand-me-downs and budgeted grocery lists. We had our differences but we also had our overarching similarities: We both loved our family, our friends, and the same guy.
Months passed and I watched them tag each other in photos and their relationship status change. I cringed as they exchanged banter on Twitter and speculated what their jokes were about. I noticed when she became friends with his sisters and took a photo with his mother. I saw him wearing the watch I bought him as he stood next to her on a vacation they took together. I saw them driving in the car we kissed in — the car we broke up in.
I saw their relationship go the places ours had gone and to places it had not.
I wondered if they fought. I wondered if the things he did that annoyed me bothered her in the same way. I wondered if she wanted the big yard and the good job, too.
I could have stopped looking at any time, but it was addicting. I wanted to know what happened next. I wanted to see if it worked out. Or maybe I wanted to see if it didn't.
Despite my self-inflicted torture, I didn't reach out to him.
I still wanted New York. And London. And maybe Thailand for a year or two. Nothing had changed. But I liked seeing photos of that toothy grin. I liked when he made a goofy face or wasn't ready for a picture. He reminded me what it felt like to love someone, and I liked that part of myself.
We were both spiraling off in vastly different directions, but I still felt an inexplicable pull toward him. It was nice having him be so accessible, even if he wasn't.
I didn't fancy myself a stalker, though maybe that's what I was — leering through the virtual windowpane of someone else's happy life. I guess I just thought if I could see him on that 13-inch computer screen, then maybe he was still with me in a way, maybe I wasn't alone, maybe I was loved. Maybe he was looking, too.
As time passed, I visited him less often. And when I did concede, the twist of the knife was not as sharp. Instead, it felt like the prodding of a dull familiar wound, one that leaves its mark, but the pain is felt more from memory than from anything else.
Eventually, I went an hour without thinking of him, then a few hours, then a day, then a week, then a month.
When I visit his profile now, the sting isn't as sharp. I am proud of him when he finds success in his career, and I am sad for him when someone he knows dies. I am happy for him for being in love.
I am glad for the girl with the red Solo cup for finding such a good man.
Maybe he's different now. Maybe he doesn't snort when he laughs, or fold his pizza into a sandwich before eating it. Maybe I don't know him at all. But still, visiting him reminds me that I am capable of love, and that I am worthy of love. It reminds me that when you truly care for another person, it never really goes away.
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