#You'd better not forget to clap! || {Asks answered} | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

myfandomlikesandstories · 7 months

Text

Successful! Llewyn Davis AU headcanons

Llewyn Davis x gn! reader

Genre: fluff, slight angst

Summary: what if Llewyn became a famous musician?

Warnings: mention of murder

Word count: 1088

--------------------

It was just another slightly drunken, shitty night at the gaslight for Llewyn. Nearly empty bucket, scattered clapping that died out after a second. Except it wasn't. He didn't know it was the night that would change his life.

You were sitting in the audience. You weren't a regular at the gaslight, not at all, but tonight you were just craving a strong drink and company. The other bars in the neighborhood were too loud and bright for you that night, so you settled on the dim, depressing, "folk song playing" place.

You clapped politely for everyone, not listening, as you nursed your bitter drink and bitter mood. Until something caught your attention. A handsome (albeit a bit shabby) man with the voice of an angel, who you likened in your mind to a wet cat.

You didn't listen to the words he said. Not that you didn't try, but his voice awoke something within you. As a songwriter on a slump, you jumped the chance and started scribbling on a napkin from the table. Just whatever came to mind. Nothing would come of it anyway, but it's good for your writer's block.

When he left the stage, you downed the rest of your drink and hurried towards him. You slowed before he saw you, trying to maintain your cool.

"Davis, right?" You asked.

"Yeah," he answered and you extended your arm to him while introducing yourself. He shook it tentatively.

"Can I buy you a drink?"

Llewyn thought about it. He automated to say no, but reconsidered. He had nothing better to do, could definitely use that drink, and you looked pretty damn good. So he accepted.

After some conversation (he didn't remember anyone being that nice to him for a long time), you asked him what were his plans for the night. He told you that he was staying with a couple of friends, those Jim and Jean couple, and they happened to pass by.

Jim was nudged by Jean towards Llewyn and awkwardly told him that actually, he couldn't stay on their couch tonight. Jean made some plans. You could see Llewyn's face fall, and when Jim left he just stared downwards quietly, in embarrassment.

"Correction: I'm not staying with them tonight." He mumbled.

You took a deep breath. "You could stay with me, if you'd like. My boyfriend-" you cleared your throat, "Ex boyfriend, just moved out and took all his shit from the study with him. So I got an empty guest room." (Why were you doing this? He's a stranger for fuck's sake!)

He looked at you, surprised. A quick mental calculation showed he had no one else to turn to that night. What's the worst that could happen? You'd kill him? He'd been thinking of joining Mike anyway. So he accepted.

Suffice to say, you didn't murder him. A while has passed, and Llewyn has become your roommate, practically. Yeah, he couldn't help much with the rent, but he did make that up by cleaning a lot, which sometimes is even better.

(Also, it was the 60s, rent wasn't that fucking high. It was about less than half of what it is today.) ANYWAY

One day, while dusting around, Llewyn found a notebook of yours. He didn't mean to peek, it just fell open or something. It was your poetry and songwriting notebook. By the time you came back home he had composed 3 of the songs there and was flooding you with questions about the chorus of a fourth.

You never thought to show it to him, you were just writing to your drawer! They weren't even good, or complete! You wanted to snatch it away from his hands and tell him to forget about it, but you've never seen him so happy. So alive.

He begged you to let him take your songs to his agent. How could you say no to him? Especially to those puppy eyes.

His agent was glad to hear Llewyn has partnered up again. He heard him out, and set him up with some producer. Finally, Llewyn Davis seemed like a good enough investment. And that's how it started.

From then on, Llewyn's career blossomed. He recorded an album (didn't sell away the rights this time) and the money started flowing. He preformed in front of larger and larger audiences, and you were always at his side.

He often felt like he didn't deserve any of that. He was told, so many times, that he was absolute crap and he started to believe it. But you were there to remind him. He deserved the world. Little did you know the only thing he truly wanted to deserve was you.

You inspired each other, creating more music and flowing with good energy. It took him a while, but when he finally found the courage, finally deemed himself worthy, he took a risk.

He asked you out.

When you started laughing at him, Llewyn's heart dropped. He's fucked his life over, again, in the worst way possible. You're going to leave and everything will go down the drain.

"Of course!!!" You said. "I'd love to go out with you, I thought you'd never ask! But oh my god your face..." you giggled. He sighed in relief, clutching his chest. You came closed and hugged him. He held you very tightly, smiling at your laughter.

That night you shared your first (and long awaited) kiss. A few months later you put out an album very different than both your writing so far. It was passionate, sensual, romantic and warm. One of the songs from it became the hit of the decade, and was played at countless weddings. You thought it was a beautiful way to immortalise your love.

And your love was immortalised alright! With two rings, nonetheless. Your wedding was covered by every newspaper in the country. Llewyn didn't like the attention all that much, though.

His solution? Another, more quiet and private wedding. This one ended up being your real anniversary.

Ever since Llewyn started earning a reasonable income, he insisted on paying for everything. Doesn't matter that you both earned a significant amount from the music, and that you joined bank accounts. He wanted to thank you for all that time you took care of him. So no, lunch is on him. Finally being able to provide for you made him really happy and proud (not that you needed any help).

You were one of the only "celebrity couples" who were genuinely happy together. You truly, deeply, loved each other, and when things would become too much you would take a vacation. Just the two of you. As it always was.

Llewyn made it in life, that was all agreed upon. Yeah, he became a famous musician, but the only thing he cared about - was you.

--------------------

No pressure tags:

@eyelessfaces @alwritey-aphrodite @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @romanarose @spider-starry

I hope you like it, everybody❤️

#inside llewyn davis #llewyn davis x male reader #llewyn davis fluff #llewyn davis fanfiction #llewyn davis x reader #llewyn davis x you #llewyn davis angst #fanfic #my post #llewyn davis AU #inside llewyn Davis fanfic #inside llewyn davis fanfiction

62 notes · View notes

finkinthisfrew · 8 months

Text

Anything (Pt. 12)

Chapter 12

"Alrighty," I said, lifting myself up to get off the couch a few minutes later, "I think it's time I shared some of my art with you."

"Oh! Did you bring some of your pottery with you?" Matty asked excitedly, propping his head up on his elbow.

"Mm-mm," I said, shaking my head, before strolling to the other end of the couch and picking up Matty's guitar. His face broke into a giant smile and he sat up immediately as I stepped back to his end of the couch.

"I'm sure I've got a song in my heart somewhere that needs some coaxing," I said airily, flipping my hair dramatically.

Matty spread his legs, patting the cushion between them with his hands as he laughed. I sat down, reclining into his chest as he rested his chin on my shoulder to look down at the fretboard.

I cleared my throat dramatically, and I felt Matty smile to himself before kissing my cheek. He wrapped his arms around my waist gently while I analyzed the guitar.

I pressed my weak, unpracticed fingers on the fretboard one at a time into the shape of one of the three chords I knew how to play. I strummed the G chord with gusto a few times, then sang the first words that came to mind.

"He's got eyes like chocolate,"

I paused, slowly working my fingers into the shape of a C chord. He sat patiently while I moved my shaky fingers. I strummed the chord, a wrong note ringing out.

"Fuck..." I mumbled to myself.

"You've got it," he said sweetly as I plucked each note, figuring out which one was the culprit.

"Just down a string, darling..." he said softly with encouragement, his thumbs stroking my stomach absentmindedly. "There you go. That's it, you've got it," he said softly, kissing my jaw gently in support. I strummed again, this time with the right notes, before continuing with my improvised lyrics.

"A dessert I can't forget," I said with a smile, holding back a laugh at the cheesy lyric.

This time the pause was shorter, my fingers moving to an E minor chord.

"He's like medicine, always makes me feel better," I sang, my voice weak, but on pitch. I didn't notice his hands freeze as I concentrated on remembering the right placement for the C chord again. I strummed again, finishing up the progression.

"When we are together." I smiled, proud of my little song, and turned to look at Matty.

His mouth hung open, a look of disbelief on his face.

"Okay, let's not pretend like that was genius or something," I scolded him playfully.

He sat there with his mouth open in silence for a moment, processing. He shook his head, brow furrowing as he put a hand to his head.

"First of all, that was genius and I won't allow you to speak of anything you create as anything less," he wagged a finger at me sternly. "Second... are you sure you've never listened to my band's music?" he asked, perplexed.

"I mean, maybe unknowingly at a grocery store or something. But not to my knowledge, no." I answered. Matty continued to look at me in disbelief. "I already told you that, though. Why are you asking again?" I asked in confusion.

Matty slowly smiled at me, once again shaking his head. He pulled out his phone and typed something into it, then placed it back down on the couch before turning to me.

"Will you play it again for me? I can finger the chords if you'd like," he smiled kindly at me. I raised my eyebrow at him suspiciously, but he beamed at me as he looked into my eyes, then looked down at my lips and placed a long kiss on my mouth. I couldn't help but melt into him, he felt like magic.

"Okay," I said firmly, psyching myself up as I repositioned myself with the guitar. Matty placed his fingers on the fretboard with ease, before giving me a nod of encouragement. I strummed the guitar and began to sing.

He added little flourishes to the chords, embellishing them with more interesting notes, moving his fingers naturally. He casually hummed harmonies to the parts of the melody he could remember. I finished and he applauded loudly, whooping enthusiastically as his clapping shook me.

"My new favourite song," he said as he kissed my cheek. I blushed, flustered by his overwhelming enthusiasm.

He reached for his phone to show me what he'd been doing earlier.

It was a Google search. At the top he had typed in 'the 1975 songs' and below, I saw a long long list of song titles. I stared at it, trying to understand what I was looking for.

"Do you see it?" he asked in quiet excitement. I scoured the page harder, finally happening upon a title that resonated with me.

"You have a song called Chocolate!" I said, shocked.

"Yes! But not only- we also have a song called Medicine, and a song called When We Are Together."

This time, my jaw dropped. I couldn't believe it. I refreshed the page, unable to accept that this was real.

"This is insane..." I breathed out. I sat there trying to wrap my brain around the wild coincidence.

Matty lay back in disbelief, then, as if realizing he didn't like being apart, he gently pulled me back to lay against his chest.

"As if it wasn't already so obvious..." Matty said to himself in a daze.

"Hmm?" I probed, reaching my hand back to cup his face. As if on queue, he planted a kiss in my palm, then leaned into my hand.

"We're meant to be, Anna. As cheesy as it sounds, I think at this point there's no denying it."

I started to grow lightheaded, my stomach turning into a cacophony of somersaults. My heart began to race, and I couldn't see, but I knew my face was flushed. I sat up, placed the guitar on the couch next to us, and turned around to straddle his lap. Like magnets, he placed his hands on my hips as he watched me, and I was pleased to see that his face was also flushed. I couldn't handle how handsome he looked with his cheeks so red. I leaned down to place my ear against his chest and was met with the sound of his heart beating rapidly. I sat back upright, replacing my ear with my hand. With my other, I took his hand and placed it over my own heart.

"Is your stomach performing a full-on gymnastics routine too?" I asked, looking into his now bashful eyes. He nodded, maintaining eye contact.

We sat there feeling each other's hearts beat in silence. I was overwhelmed with the desire to say what I knew we were both thinking, but a quiet voice in my head called me silly, reminding me we only just met three days ago. The voice felt faint though, frail and dim in the shadow of mine and Matty's feelings.

Matty looked down at his hand which still rested on my chest, his face beginning to look a bit sad. He opened his mouth to say something, hesitating. He paused, then took a deep breath before looking back up at my eyes.

"There's something I'd very much like to say to you..." He picked up the hand I placed on over his heart, bringing it up to his mouth. He brushed his lips against my fingertips as he continued. "...but I don't want to rush too much. Even though everything inside my body is screaming to rush as fast as possible, because it's all I want..." his eyes travelled to the different features on my face, taking in my reaction to his words. "You're all I never knew I wanted, let alone needed." He said, stroking my cheek with his hand, his eyes filled with yearning. He continued cautiously, "But I don't want to risk losing this by being reckless. You mean too much to me- like, scarily too much."

I nodded silently in understanding, trying to quell the sadness in my heart with the reminder that this wasn't rejection, even though a tiny part of me felt like it was.

He must have sensed my sadness, because he dropped my hand, then placing it on the back of my neck he gently guided my lips to his. He kissed me so softly, with such care and intention. My sadness dissipated as he told me what I wanted to hear with his kiss. Our lips parted as we rested our foreheads against each other.

"I wanna say it so bad though..." he whispered to me. He chewed on his lower lip in frustration.

My stomach tumbled again.

"Now look who needs to practice their patience," I said lightly with a smile.

He chuckled in response, before groaning.

"I don't think I can wait a month or whatever it is that normal people do..." he whined grumpily.

"Maybe a couple weeks then?" I said with a little smile, rubbing the tip of my nose against his, leaning both hands against his chest.

"Maybe a week," he grunted with exaggerated huffiness. I pulled my face away to look at him, and his face relaxed into one of adoration. "A couple of days, at most," his eyes now glittering again with playfulness. I smiled at his small tantrum and he began to bounce me in his lap excitedly.

"Do you still remember the lyrics you just sang?" he asked.

"Uhhh, I think so, maybe."

"Play it once more, pretty please?" he begged. I couldn't turn down his sweet pout, so I obliged. As I turned back around to get into our playing position, Matty picked up his phone and pulled up the camera. He positioned it against one of our empty bowls of pasta on the coffee table, directing it at us before hitting record.

"So we have proof when we're still saying it in 50 years that we really meant it from the beginning," he said affectionately. He placed a kiss in the corner of my jaw just below my ear, sending shivers down my spine.

He placed his hand on the neck of the guitar.

"Ready, darling?" he asked, nodding his head in encouragement. I nodded back and began to strum.

"He's got eyes like chocolate

A dessert I can't forget

He's like medicine, always makes me feel better

When we are together"

"Keep strumming..." he whispered in my ear as I finished the last lyric. I continued to strum and he began to sing his own lyrics to the melody I'd written.

"She's got eyes like the ocean,

When I swim in them I feel born again,

She's my angel. Who needs God?

Sat next to her, he's an afterthought"

His fingers changed to a new set of chords, so I continued to strum as my heart melted from his words. The chords soared just like my heart, and his must have too because he stretched his neck to reach my cheek for a kiss. I turned my head completely, catching his lips in mine and we kissed as we played, eventually petering out as the kiss grew deeper. Matty disposed of the guitar and he swooped his arm under my legs, picking me up and turning me around.

Once again I straddled him, taking his face in my hands as I grew eager for more of him. His hands roamed under my t-shirt, caressing my back before travelling down where he gripped my waist in his strong hands, sending a shiver up my spine. I surfaced for air from the kiss and we looked at each other lustfully, but this time it felt more serious. More meaningful. I slowly pulled my t-shirt off, and even with my breasts fully exposed, we didn't break eye contact.

Matty whispered, "C'mere my love," affectionately before placing his lips on mine once more, kissing me slowly, every movement full of intention.

My hands roamed under his hoodie, enjoying the smoothness of his skin, and the ripples of his muscles beneath my fingertips. He took this as a cue to pull off his own hoodie and shirt, allowing me to explore with my hands more freely.

Our kiss grew deeper and deeper, and while heat intensified, what overshadowed it was love.

Emotion built, and our kisses, still slow and meaningful, felt even more intense.

We knew what we were saying to each other at that moment- we didn't have to say anything.

He picked me up, hooking my legs around him, our lips unbreaking, and carried me into his bedroom once again.

This time, we made love to each other. Deep, meaningful, passionate love. We forgot the camera was ever rolling, leaving it recording in the living room through the night.

#fanfic #fanfiction #lovers #at their very best #matty healy #matty the 1975 #the 1975 #love #tender #bfiafl #romantic #romance #i love you #matty 1975 #soulmates #1975 band

19 notes · View notes

otakukun16 · 6 months

Text

Soul Avengers

Surprises

Ichigo's Pov

"Huuuugh" I yawned as a got out of bed, looked outside the window at the brightly shining, it looked like it was about nine in the morning or something. I got up and walked around the room a little and I spotted set of folded clothes by the door, I walked towards it an saw a note next the them

Since you didn't have any other clothes I thought you'd need something more comfortable to wear while you here.

-Steve.

I took a look down at the clothes, it wasn't anything too flashy just a plain white shirt and some jeans "Hm, guess I'll thank him later" I said to myself. I looked around a room and spotted what looked like a bathroom and grabbed the clothes to take a quick shower.

Ten minutes later...

3rd POV

Ichigo was kinda lost for a while trying to find the living room where we were told to meet up yesterday, he found his way there eventually "So many damn rooms" he says under my breath. As he got to the living room he spotted Gin and Toshiro sitting by a counter and Izuru sitting on one of the couches reading a book they were also wearing a set of human clothes . Steve was cooking something in the kitchen and Thor was nowhere to be found. Toshiro looked preoccupied as he was typing onto the soul pager while Gin looked like he had nothing better to do but to bug him.

"Hey Shiro I'm bored!" Gin whined childishly

"Deal with" Toshiro responded dryly

"But I'm bored" Gin continued to whine

"Then find something to do" Toshiro kept on ignoring him

"Shirooooooo" he whined like a spoiled child

When he noticed Toshiro wasn't paying attention to him he leaned over his shoulder and snatched the soul pager right out of Toshiro's hand. "GIN!" Toshiro yelled infuriated as he tried to get it back but Gin kept it out of his reach he looked out for a few seconds and typed on iafter that he chucked it over his shoulder "Well that's pretty useless right now" he said of handedly

"Captain!" Izuru yelled horrified as he caught the object just in time before it hit the ground "Sir you can't just damage other captain's property like that. You'll get in serious trouble" he tried to reason.

But his pleas fell on deaf ears.

Ichigo sweat dropped as he watched the whole interaction. Steve walked in the room holding a tray of pancakes "Breakfasts ready" he called out. Ichigo didn't really know what to do with himselsf so he just stood in the middle of the room awkwardly. Steve noticed this and called him over "Good morning, how'd you sleep?" He asked Ichigo shrugged "It was alright, thanks for the clothes by the way" He answered, this made Steve smile "It was nothing at all, it was the least I could do. So you hungry?” he asked handing Ichigo a plate with a stack of pancakes.

"Um thanks" he said taking the plate and taking a sit by the counter. There was a short silence in the room for a while "So I was thinkinking that maybe after breakfast we could go to one of the training rooms and do some sparring. Just so we won't get bored being couped up here all day" Steve suggested. There was a short silece until a beaming Gin broke it "That's a great idea, dont you think Shiro? It'll be a great chance to loosen up a little" he said with his usual grin Toshiro rolled his eyes and sighed "We should be focusing more on finding a way back but since it ins't really in our control there's nothing we can do but wait. So why not" he said while shrugging "Yay!" Gin responded happily. He then turned over to Ichigo "So you coming?" He asked Ichigo shrugged "Sure I'll come, nothing to do here anyway" as he picked up his plate, Gin then clapped his hands "It's settled then" he said happily "Oh and you're coming too Izuru" he said not forgetting his precious vice captain "Yes sir" Izuru immediately knowing full well that his captain wasn't going to except any other answer.

Thirty minutes later...

After the group had arrived at one of the buildings many training rooms they began doing some simple warmup and endurance exercises. Steve had to admit, he was impressed by these guys. He wasn't really bragging but honestly he'd never met any ordinary humans who were able to keep up with him physically, yet these guys seemed to do it without breaking a sweat. Guess he shouldn't be too surprised they were other worldly beings after all, kinda like asgardians so they weren't exactly what you'd call normal humans.

So after a mental debate Steve made a decision, "Hey Ichigo, you wouldn't mind having a sparring match would you?" He asked Ichigo but excepted to be turned down, but to his surprise it was the opposite.

Ichigo responded with much enthusiasm "Sure, thought you'd never ask" he finished with a feral grin as he cracked his knuckles.

Steve was a little taken aback at this but nodded regardless and smiled, he then turned his had to Gin and Toshiro "Sorry if I'm stepping out of line but I'm really interested in seeing how well he'll do in a fight, so I hope his alright with this" he asked. Toshiro and Gin looked back at each and shrugged "Sure knock yourselves out" they responded simultaneously.

The two combatants face each other on one of the mats "Okay first let's lay down some ground rules. First, stay within the marked area stepping outside means losing. And second, let's make it a fair match so no underhanded tricks and no trying to cause any serious injuries." Steve said and Ichigo responded with a nod.

Somewhere in Stark tower Tony had nothing to do so he decided to take a random security check around the tower, meaning checking all the camera feeds in the build (except the ones in the bathrooms cause he wasn't really that much of a creep). But as he got the to the cameras on the 31st floor he wasn't really expecting to see capcicle and the orange top to be battling it out in one of the gyms.

"Hey J.A.R.V.I.S is it just me or is capcicle having a go at one of those weird inter dimensional kids?" He asked shock evident in his voice.

"Sir, Captain Rogers had taken the inter dimensional guests to the training room on floor 31 at approximately 10:46 am, they have been there for 2 hours and 24 minutes." J.A.R.V.I.S responded

"Hm, hey by the way J.A.R.V.I.S how's it looking with that inter dimensional portal? Found away to access their world yet" he asked changing the topic for a moment J.A.R.V.I.S didn't respond for a while as he searched through different private files that Tony stored away himself "Sir I'm afraid that there has not been any development in accessing the portal without exact coordinates of the location" he responded. Tony sighed and leaned back on his chair "Well I'll come up with something eventually" he said as he got up and made his was down to the training room.

Back to Steve who was in a very *cough cough* foreign position. He was laying on the mat on his stomach with his hand wedged behind his back. Ichigo held him down with such ease that it was almost scary, it didn't even seem like he was trying, as he slowly got off of him he held out a hand to help him up and offered a sheepish smile "Sorry about that I wasn't trying to hurt you but guess I gotta little carried away." He apologized. Steve smiled and took the offered hand "Don't worry about it I'm a bit sturdier than that" he said reassuringly

"What in the actual hell is going on here?" Tony asked in a flat tone

"Oh Tony, I didn't expect to see you in the gym. You never come around here. What are doing here?" Steve asked in a tone of curiosity

"Hey just because you don't see me come here doesn't mean I don't, it's my gym after all. And besides I came to tell you that finding a way to send you guys back is a little slow so to put it straight you"re gonna be stuck here for a while" Tony said bluntly

This made the room silent until Toshiro spoke up "How long is a while supposed to be?" He asked seriously "I can't be sure. It could be weeks, months hell it could even be years" Tony responded. As he heard that, Ichigo had an unsettling feeling in his stomach, he was terrified at the thought of not finding a way home.

‘Hey king! Keep those emotions in line will ya. It's flooding up in here!’ His hollow zanpakuto yelled in his head.

‘Shut up!’ he yelled mentally and clenched his fists and tried to calm himself down.

Steve noticed Ichigo's demeanor "Hey you okay" he asked concerned. This brought Ichigo back to his sense "Oh yeah I'm fine" he said averting his eyes away, Steve placed his hand on his shoulder in a comforting gesture "Hey it's alright. I'm sure you'll find a way back to your home soon, and we'll help" he said affectively calming Ichigo's nerves.

"Alright sorry to interrupt this touching moment but I feel like having lunch, anyone in?" Tony butted in.

Before anyone could responded, an ear shattering scream was heard coming from out side the building. They turned and looked on in shock.

Standing right outside the building was a huge jet black creature with a boney almost mask like face with blood red eyes. It was starring right at them, Tony and Steve froze up not knowing how to react. But it was the opposite for Ichigo and his group who quickly sprung into action, they had quickly grabbed their zanpakutos (which they brought with them just in case) and attacked the hollow.

Damn these guys are just full of surprises. Tony and Steve thought simultaneously

#alternate reality #bleach #fanfiction #gin ichimaru #ichigo kurosaki #izuru kira #steve rogers #the avengers #thor odinson #tony stark #toshiro hitsugaya

2 notes · View notes

neodarkdark · 8 months

Note

Bringing back an old ask meme: 'talk about us' with Blanc ✨

Svern tells your muse...

What they define their relationship with your muse as:

"Oh! That's easy!" Svern claps his hands together, a bright smile on his face. "You're my friend! You know, we've known each other for a pretty long time now, Blanc. Time sure flies, doesn't it? Somehow you haven't gotten sick of me yet. What a longsuffering person you are! It's honestly quite admirable, even if I do have to pity you for it."

Something they like about your muse:

He makes a show of thinking, tilting his head to the side and looking upward, tapping his index finger on his chin. "Well, there's a bunch of things, naturally! You're a decent cook, your clothes fit me pretty well. That's convenient! Your cupboards are always stocked. Also convenient! You haven't kicked me out of your house yet, how kind! Your couch is comfortable, and so is your bed."

"Not to mention you're awfully cute, 'specially when you're flustered."

Something they dislike about your muse:

Svern reacts by dramatically doubling over, as if the mere thought was a punch to his gut, his hands clutched in his hair. "Nooo! That's a terrible question! How could there possibly be something I dislike about my good friend Blanc? How am I even supposed to answer this?!"

He mutters in a pained voice, "Negativity is bad for you..."

Give him a few seconds, then he'll straighten up again and answer in a deadpan voice with a face devoid of any discernible emotion:

"There are a few things about you that vex me, it's true. There's no such thing as perfect in this world. Still, I'd rather not talk about it."

Their first impression of your muse:

Ah. A question that warrants a serious answer.

"...you were dangerously close to being roped into something that you would've been better off staying out of. Just some teenager sticking his nose into something that he shouldn't."

"Do you remember, in Pinwheel Forest? I told you to keep out of the business with Plasma, or you'd end up regretting it. Looking back, knowing what I do now, I guess you didn't really have a choice."

"I will say I didn't think much of you at first. Nor did I warn you out of the goodness of my heart. That was merely common sense; plus, I thought you might complicate things for me. In the end, things were going to play out how they did regardless of what either of us did."

Their impression of your muse now:

The cloud passes over, and Svern's usual demeanour returns. Talking about the present is much more pleasant than dwelling on the past.

"Look at this recluse! He lives in a haunted forest full of ghosts and shadow people! I have to go 'round to his place constantly and drag him out into the world again, because if I don't, he'll forget what real people look like!"

That's a bit mean.

"I also understand now that you're just really unlucky for some reason. It's not fair, I don't think you deserve that. I'm not helping much, though."

How they feel about your muse:

"Positive, moreso than average! That's as specific as I'm going to get, sorry! There'll be no further elaboration on feelings from me."

Something they are hiding from your muse:

Following the rules of the game, Svern should give an answer. It would be easy; he just has to provide filler, say something small and inconsquential that's technically true. He's done this type of thing a thousand times before. He knows how to say something while saying nothing.

But he doesn't feel like playing that game with this particular question. Instead, Svern holds up a finger and makes a tutting sound, then leans in close, his voice lowering.

"Come on, now. If I'm hiding something from you, then I'm not going to tell you about it, am I? Even if you ask super nicely. Where's the fun otherwise? If you want to know my secrets, go look for them yourself."

Something they wish they could tell your muse:

The last question. He supposes this is where most people would say something embarrassingly sappy, or something shockingly mean, or really anything that they would normally keep to themselves.

"Something I wish I could tell you? Usually if I want to say something, I'll just say it. If I don't say it, I never wished I could say it in the first place. I don't really do the whole 'I secretly wish I could tell you' type of thing."

Is there really nothing? Surely Svern can spare something here. He already gave an evasive answer to the previous question.

His expression suddenly goes blank. It's like someone pressed a reset button inside his brain, but anyone who knows Svern at all knows there's no such reset button at all, and if there was, he'd be the one pressing it. The way he looks at Blanc afterwards is crystal clear and serious, and there's no false brightness in his eyes or in the few words he says.

"I'm glad I'm here with you."

#who's that knocking at your door? (inbox)#twilighttheater #catch me if you can (ic)#out of the dark day and into the brighter night (v; alt)#long post #looong post #where svern says a whole lot of words most of which have to be gone through with a sieve

2 notes · View notes

creativeflowers87 · 2 months

Text

febuwhump 26

CW: Illness, implied poison

AN: noooooo I definitely didn't forget to post this definitely not (: (: (:

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

If this was an attempt at torturing Nyxie, it is definitely working.

She wipes away the sweat on her forehead mindlessly, continuing to resharpen the sword of some guard she can't remember the name of. She glances up at the sun. It's been about five minutes since she last checked.

She stares down at the sword. It's clearly not-well made. It's hilt doesn't look like it would fit any user, and the blade itself is bent in a way that it should not be moved. It was very clear that bluntness wasn't the problem here.

Nyxie returns to mindlessly sharpening the sword. There's nothing really to do in this heat that can't be delegated to some of the lower class workers, like the farmers and whatnot, so, with her kind of in the middle ranking in whatever stupid system the region has made up this time, it sort of makes sense that this is what she was made to do. Still, that doesn't mean she can't complain about it.

Her train of thought is cut off when she hears commotion at the gate. Curious, she sets down her work on a bench where it can't be knocked off or anything, and decides to go and have a look.

Upon arriving, Nyxie finds that an ill man is being carted through the gates, presumably to the infirmary inside. "Hemlock poisoning," she hears someone mutter.

She quietly trails along the back, going mostly unnoticed until the group makes it to the infirmary. At that point, someone bumps into her. "Hey," they say, "Who're you?"

Nyxie freezes. "Uh," she says, "I just wanted to see what the commotion was, and got carried away? Sorry."

"Well, ya better be," a man at the front says. He claps his hands together, before addressing everyone. "Go back to yer stations, we got ev'rything covered."

Faint grumbles can be heard throughout the crowd, which has grown substantially since Nyxie first came in. However, everyone soon starts to dissipate, leaving only Nyxie and a couple other people still standing there. She was still frozen a bit, but a lot more relaxed, now; just thinking.

"Hey! Weird flower girl." Someone shaking her shoulders snaps her out of her reverie. "Yes?"

"Whatcha still doing here?" "Uh—" Nyxie shifts from foot to foot, trying to think of an answer— "I might be able to fix them?"

The man doesn't respond, stern look covering his face for a moment longer, before he registers her statement. "Well," he says, "Why didn'tcha mention that earlier?" he asks, quickly ushering her into the room.

Nyxie takes a good look at the person in front of her. They're clearly struggling; sweat streams off their face, they keep half-rolling around on their cot, and they're visibly shaking.

"You'd think," the man says, standing next to Nyxie, "That after some point, they'd stop eating the plant."

Nyxie turns to him. "How much did they ingest?"

The man just shrugs.

Nyxie walks over to the brewing stand in the corner of the room. She kind of remembers the antidote for this, but it's fuzzy in her memory.

Still, it's worth a shot.

She pulls out a jar of what she thinks is the correct plant and cuts it up, tossing it into a separate container before putting a tiny bit of nether wart into the top of the stand, water bottles sitting underneath. After a couple minutes, she sprinkles the plant powder in too.

Out of the corner of her eye, she spots a small jar in the back of the cupboard, pulling it out carefully. Inside, a tiny bundle of ghast tears sits inside. Nyxie grabs one and tosses it in the top of the stand, before putting the jar back.

Nyxie takes the potions out, wincing a tiny bit at the sudden cold of the bottles. She stands still for a moment, before she's nudged by the man. "Help them," he says, "Go on!"

She nods jerkily, walking over to the patient. He's a lot more still, now, but in the kind of way that it's deeply concerning. Nyxie opens their mouth; they're starting to salivate uncontrollably.

With no time to waste, Nyxie opens their mouth and pours a portion of the potion inside. She lets go for a moment, before the patient starts to gag, and she shuts their mouth, forcing them to swallow it. She continues this until the potion is fully gone.

Then, she waits.

For an agonising few minutes, there is no difference. Nyxie starts to panic. She's sure that the potion is supposed to take effect within around thirty seconds after ingestion, right? That's one of the first thing she learned about these types of potion, after all. Maybe it's not going to work. Maybe it'll make it worse. Maybe—

Then the patient starts to settle. They stop sweating, and, after a quick inspection, their heart is still beating, and at a normal rate too.

Nyxie exhales in relief. She turns around, but the man has left. She glances outside. The sun is starting to set. Has it really been that long? She swears it's only been a few minutes.

She wipes her hands on her shirt, already walking out of the infirmary.

If this was going to be anyone's problem, it wasn't going to be hers.

#flowers.docx #cw poison #(implied)#cw illness #febuwhump #febuwhump2024 #febuwhumpday26

0 notes

stagekiller · 4 years

Text

@rabidwaste ; "Just a reminder that I have ribs and they are breakable." (From Miah!)

CHEEKS SQUISH TOGETHER as strong arms ( a smidgen sunburnt, from work ) tighten their hold around his brother. Despite being practically identical, for the most part, Jerome has grown to have a stocky build, probably due to his active lifestyle. In comparison with a lanky bookworm, like Miah, one might even call him buff for their age. And thus, his ‘hugs’ ( which are more of a headlock ) can be quite oppressive.

“ Mmm, crack, crack! ” He mocks, lips brushing against the other’s chin with each word. “ An’ so what if they break? You don’t use them anyways... spineless. M-heeh! ” Arms slither in a python embrace, comparable to the time they forgot ( Jerome forgot ) to return Sheba in her cage for the night. “ Mayb’ if I break ‘em, you’ll finally grow a backbone! ”

Although his words are cruel, the way with which he pecks his twin’s cheek is far from such. It could even be mistaken for a clumsy, misguided kind of tenderness.

#{ RABIDWASTE }#incest //#You'd better not forget to clap! || {Asks answered}

5 notes · View notes

vannybarber · 3 years

Text

🤬 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐠𝐮𝐞

Ransom Drysdale x Reader

𝘈𝘳𝘨𝘶𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘴 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘙𝘢𝘯𝘴𝘰𝘮 𝘢𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘴𝘦𝘹. 𝘞𝘦𝘭𝘭, 𝘢𝘵 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴 𝘥𝘰.

𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: 𝚂𝙼𝚄𝚃, 𝚍𝚎𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚍𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗, 𝚜𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚘𝚛𝚊𝚕(𝚏 𝚝𝚘 𝚖), 𝚌𝚞𝚛𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚟𝚞𝚕𝚐𝚊𝚛 𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚞𝚊𝚐𝚎, 𝚍𝚊𝚍𝚍𝚢 𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚔, 𝚌𝚘𝚌𝚔𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚐.

𝑎/𝑛 : 𝑑𝑖𝑣𝑖𝑑𝑒𝑟 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑚 @honeyvalour

'Does this turn you on?" You tilt your head at the obnoxious piece of work you call your boyfriend.

'The fuck are you talking about, Y/N?' He gives you a look of confusion mixed with anger. He has no reason to be angry, unless being held accountable of his actions cause for upmost distress.

You two got into a heated arguement, nothing less of the ones you usually have. This time, he did start it and refuses to admit it. You're starting to think he does it on purpose, hence why you're asking.

'This. The arguing. Does it get you off?' You move closer to him, into the light of the lamp on your dresser.

A tiny smirk forms on his lips, but his eyes are still hard.

'Why on earth would you ask that, baby?' He's playing along because he knows where this is going.

'Oh, I don't know. It's just that everytime we argue and I try to diffuse it and apologize, you keep going.' You move a hand up his baby blue sweater and play with a thread sticking out.

'You enjoy getting me riled up, don't you?' Looking in his eyes, they match his even bigger smirk. He tilts his head to the side as a 'maybe' and you let out a breathy laugh.

'I've come to realize that whenever we argue, it always ends up with us fucking each other's brains out.' His hands found their way onto your hips, right above your ass.

'Now that I think about it, you're right, Y/N.' His hands are on your ass, rubbing it in slow circles.

'Mhm. I know. So that's what you want, Ransom? You wanna fuck me?' You bit the edge of your lip, entertained by your own advance, which he wouldn't hesitate to accept. And that's what made it so funny.

'Fuck you' he spits, his smirk is gone and his eyes back into a dark haze.

'I really wish you would shut up and actually do it.'

Maybe time sped by fast because next thing you know, you're flat on the bed, him on top of you.

You connect your lips with his only breaking away to remove each other's clothes. Both of you fully naked, he wastes no time to climb above you and shove his cock in your mouth.

'Mhm, get it nice and wet for me.' You gather up as much saliva as you can and coat his huge girth. You feel him reach down in between your legs to play with your pussy. When you thrust into his hand, he slaps it, making you moan around him.

'As much is I would enjoy your mouth stuffed with my cum, I gotta drop a load in this pussy first, honey.' He moves out of your mouth, giving you room to finally breath and settles in between your legs again.

'Look at that beauty.' He stares in admiration at the one thing he gets to destroy everyday. Your pussy has been through so much with him. You'd tell him you were sore and he'd still fuck you. You couldn't take anymore? He'd make you take him some more.

It's his fantasy world and you were the only fantasy. Along with a never ending flow of Biscoff cookies, of course. Your body was made for him. Nobody could please you like him.

'Can you just hurry the fuck up, Ransom? Fucking annoying ass' you roll your eyes with a little smile, knowing it would set him off.

'I'm really getting sick and tired of that fucking mouth.' He plunges his length inside you without warning, collecting a strain of a moan from your lips. 'You talk to much for your own damn good.'

You brace your hands against his pale chest, eyes furrowed, trying to form words. He starts thrusting, the way he always does when you guys have angry sex. The kind of thrusts that are to make you forget you were even mad at him.

'Wait Ransom, stop' you let out, the feeling of him sliding against your spot overwhelming you.

'Feels too good huh? You want to me to pull out for a second?' You nod your head urgently, but he just smiles.

'Hell no.' He thrusts faster, moving his head closer to yours and silencing your cries with his cherry lips. You scream into them as he lifts both your legs over his left shoulder, making you feel more full of him.

'Fuck my pussy Ransom' you yell, finally breaking away from his kiss. "Fuck it, fuck it, fuck it!' He moves one of your legs over his empty shoulder, hitting a spot you didn't even know could be touched.

'The fucking hell do you think I'm doing, dumbass?' He pants in your ear, still astonished by the tightness of your pussy, swallowing him whole.

'I fucking hate you, swear to God!' Your air is snagged from your lungs as he turns you on your side in the yearner position. He slides back in, pressing his hands and upper bodyweight onto your shoulders. He leans down for a second.

'Say your prayers if you want, baby doll. They won't go any higher than the ceiling, especially with you sinning like this.'

Before you could clap back, he lifts himself back up and drills into you. You grip the headboard, scream pleas for him into the mattress.

'Look at that ass bouncing on my fucking cock' he says sickeningly behind you. It was something about getting it from the side that just hit like no other. But to get it from him, that was out of this world.

'Fucking shit Ransom, I'm gonna cum!' You scream, but he purposely ignores you, enjoying the pleasurable torment he was putting you through.

'What was that, baby? You're gonna cum all over Daddy's cock?' He speeds up his pace.

'Yesh' you say, muffled by the pillows that were falling in your face. He forces a hard thrust inside you. 'Speak the fuck up.'

'Yes, Daddy, yes! You're gonna make me cum' you whine in the middle of your sentence, the feeling of your climax arising 'cum all over your fucking cock.'

'Then fucking do it, slut. Cum on my cock. Let me feel it.'

Your body goes feral as your orgasm hits you. You can only move but so much with his weight still on top of you. But you damn sure could scream. You come down with heavy, shaky breaths.

'Yeah, that's right. Who just made you cum, huh?' He slaps your ass, demanding an answer.

'You did.' Your voice is meek and strained.

'Good girl. Daddy's gonna cum in you now, so you better take it all and don't let one drop leave this pussy, you hear me?" You send a vibrating 'mhmm' into the bed and grip the sheets, preparing yourself.

A few more weak thrusts and you feel his seed filling you up. He groans loudly as you squeeze around him, earning more cum inside you.

He collapses on top of you with a moan. You both race to catch your breaths, his cock still inside you.

You take your arm and leg from underneath him, Ransom being a little hurt because he still thinks your mad at him. He moves to get off of you, but once your limbs are free you pull him back down and wrap your arms around his shoulders.

You kiss his cheek and close your eyes. Ransom speaks up and you open them again.

'Whatever happened, I apologize for it.' You almost did that double take meme, completely shocked.

'Not Ransom Hugh Drysdale apologizing for his actions??' He groans at his full name, making you snicker.

'Can you not?' He begs in disgust. You are almost sure that he rolled his eyes as well.

'Fine, I forgive you.' You flutter your eyes back shut with a smile on your face.

'Yeah, you better.' You slap his shoulder blade.

'Watch yourself.'

😏

masterlist

#chris evans #cevans #captain america #avengers #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans x reader #chris evans fluff #chris evans smut #ransom thrombey fanfic #ransom drysdale fanfiction #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale #ransom x reader #vannybarber #ransom drysdale smut #ransom x you

454 notes · View notes

starlessea · 3 years

Text

Here Comes the Sun: XXI. When You Were Young (Daryl Dixon/Reader)

Series Masterlist: Here Comes the Sun

Summary: Daryl Dixon scares the hell out of you climbing out of that damn creek. It takes hauling his ass halfway across Georgia and taking a bullet for him to realise that you're not half bad. He slowly starts to come around, despite grumbling about how much he doesn't like your singing, or that you can't use a gun for shit - and don't get him started on that ugly yellow tent of yours. It takes him a while before he starts to see for himself that he's found a best friend for life, and that he doesn't actually mind the colour yellow that much, after all.

Words: 5907

Chapter Warnings: Language, Insecurities.

You snapped the book shut and looked up at your class, who stared back at you in complete awe. You laughed, taking in their expressions. The first time you had read this novel, your face looked something similar to how theirs did now. You couldn't help but let out a little laugh, uncrossing your legs and standing up from your seat. Immediately, they started to chatter amongst themselves about the ending, and the volume rose as their voices ricocheted off the walls of the small classroom.

In the last couple of months that had passed since the takeover of Woodberry, the prison had been completely transformed. It was barely recognisable from how you'd first found it. The cells each had a bed, and now resembled actual rooms. The field had been tilled and converted into farmland courtesy of the Greenes, and you even kept livestock in wooden pens. Best of all, Rick and the others had set up a classroom for you to teach the children. You could remember it like it was yesterday. It had certainly been a well-kept secret, and almost everybody had known about it but you.

Daryl and his team had scavenged some desks and school supplies, as well as an old blackboard that reminded you of the one you had first written your name on. They'd even brought back a wooden bookshelf - which they had to tie to the roof of one of the vehicles just to get it home. Over the course of the next few weeks, it began to collect books, filling up more and more each day.

Your first assignment had been for your students to create a poster on any book of their choice - and as a result, they also filled the white space of the walls. Before long, the former guards’ office resembled an actual classroom, brimming with colour and, surprisingly, children eager to learn.

"Okay, everyone!" You called out, clapping your hands to get their attention. "Now that we've finished this book, I want you all to write your own short story in response to it."

The group started to murmer amongst themselves again, and you yelled out over the chatter.

"It can be a sequel, or even something different inspired by it." You explained, your voice getting lost in the crowd. "Be as creative as you can."

It was a real learning curve getting used to teaching younger students. Though, it was a lot more rewarding than you thought it would be. You remembered teaching Carl briefly at the Greene farm, which felt like a lifetime ago now. You never expected for your class to grow to the size that it was.

"I'm looking forward to reading them all tonight before bed." You added, once they had settled down enough to do so.

It was a tradition for you to do all of your marking in the evening. It filled up your time and kept you occupied until Daryl returned. He'd been going on a lot more runs recently, and it made you worry less when you had something to take your mind off it.

"Any questions?" You asked, and saw a flurry of hands go up in response.

"Teacher!" A young girl called, waving her arm to get your attention.

You smiled almost unknowingly. If adults had even half the enthusiasm of children, then maybe a lot more would get done around here.

"Yes?" You answered, and nodded in her direction.

The legs of her chair lifted a few inches off the ground as she swung back a little, and you fought every teacher-urge inside of you that said to pull her up on it.

"Is Mr. Dixon going to read them with you?" She giggled, and suddenly you forgot about the chair.

You couldn't contain the snort that left your mouth from the name 'Mr. Dixon.' You'd have to tell him about it later.

"I meant questions about the work." You chided gently, but the smile on your face told another story. "Though, he might. So make them interesting."

Once again, you were unable to control the class as they got rowdy, and you just shook your head.

"You don't want him to fall asleep when I read them to him, do you?" You added, as you started to hand out the paper.

The children spent the next hour or so furiously scribbling out their stories in messy handwriting that you'd be tasked with deciphering later. Daryl had been gone for a few days on a run, but he was due back at some point today. Though, you wouldn't put it past him to conveniently arrive home late, to get out of marking duty with you.

When the time came to dismiss your class, you were given a lot of hugs and waves from everybody as they left. Perhaps it wasn't the most professional, but nothing really was these days. You were lucky to even still have a profession given the circumstances. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed a figure looming in the entranceway, holding the door open for the children as they left the classroom. It was Carol, and she gave you a warm smile when she caught your eye. You beckoned her in after everyone else was gone, and she made her way shyly towards you with her arms behind her back.

The two of you had grown even closer over the last few months - all of you had. Though, you and Carol got along like a house on fire. She had the most brilliant sense of humor tucked away, and you were often lucky enough to get a glimpse of it when she felt mischievous. Daryl had given the pair of you the nickname 'dynamic duo' - and you thought that nothing could suit you both better.

"What are you doing here, Peletier?" You asked in a mock stern tone. "I don't remember giving you detention."

The woman smiled sheepishly at your teasing, before more confidently sitting down on your desk and stretching out her legs. From behind her back she brought out one hand, and placed a fresh, red apple over your paperwork. You laughed immediately, and so did she.

"I've always been a good student." She told you, with a grin.

You hummed to yourself, unconvinced. You started to collect the loose sheets of paper from your students' tables, and the woman hopped off your own desk to help you.

"I caught the end of your lesson. I hope you didn't mind me listening in." She admitted, and you shook your head in response.

Normally, you got nervous if you were being observed. One time, Daryl dropped by to give you some supplies you'd asked for - and you'd gotten so red that the children made fun of you for the rest of the day. Yet, Carol's presence made you calm; she always was the one to have your back.

"They seem to really love you." The woman added, nonchalantly.

The compliment really did warm your heart. Even before the world ended, all you'd wanted was to gain the approval of your students. Except, that was the one thing that adults struggled to give.

"I just want to make it fun for them." You explained, picking up another hand-written story.

You could tell whose it was just by the handwriting. At this point, you'd gotten to know all of the children so well that they felt like part of your extended family; everyone in the prison did.

"I know they should be learning practical skills, too." You went on. "But I can't let them forget how to read and write."

You were mumbling to yourself, and barely noticed as Carol handed you the other half of the papers. You filed them all into a neat stack, and placed them onto your desk. Except, you now noticed a book sitting on it that hadn't been there before.

"I came to give you something." Carol said, pointing. "Well, to return something."

Your eyes widened as you read over the title. It was in pristine condition, with a shiny cover and an unbroken spine.

"It's not the same copy." The woman explained.

You could tell; it was much too neat to be the one you'd brought with you to Atlanta. That one had crinkled pages and a ripped cover even before you had leant it to Carol.

"I asked Daryl to keep an eye out for one on his travels." She admitted, and you perked up at the name. "Thought maybe you could read it to the kids one day."

You held the copy of The Little Prince in your hands, your eyes glancing over the delicate illustration of a young boy lost amongst the stars.

"Carol, you didn't have to do this-" you said quietly.

The woman cut you off before you could go on, nudging you gently with her shoulder.

"I did. I wanted to." She corrected, and you finally looked up to meet her eyes. "I'm sorry for what I did before."

She said the words quietly, as though ashamed, and this time you were the one to elbow her back and shake your head. She gave a small smile.

"I liked the part with the fox." She told you. "Where he says that important things can only be seen with the heart, not the eyes."

You looked at Carol with a dumbfounded expression.

"I did read it, you know." She laughed.

So, the two of you did finally get to discuss the book together, just like you'd hoped to do all that time ago - back in the warm summer shade of the Greene farm.

When you spotted that mop of hair from across the courtyard, you knew instantly who it was. Well, the crossbow and that familiar leather jacket also gave him away. You started to run in his direction, before you spotted a group of your students and slowed down to an embarrassed jog. The man eyed you, and you could make out his taunting smirk even in the distance.

It hadn't been that long since you'd last seen him, but your heart still ached to feel his arms around you. You never knew how lonely the nights could seem once you got used to sleeping besides someone you loved.

You approached Daryl casually, feeling eyes on you. There were people working the fields, and others on the fences dispatching walkers. Even if they seemed busy, you weren't oblivious to their side-eye glances every now and then.

"Hey there, Stranger." You finally greeted the man. "Was starting to forget what your face looked like."

With the influx of survivors, Daryl had taken on even more responsibility than before. He was out for longer and home even less, but you knew it couldn't be any other way. You knew that - but it didn't stop you from resenting the fact.

"Too many damn mouths to feed." Daryl grumbled, pointing to the string of squirrels hanging from his belt. "These people are eatin' like kings."

You laughed at that, thinking back to the last harsh winter where you'd all had to survive on some questionable meals, to say the least.

"Ah yes, the luxury of fresh squirrel." You teased, eyeing the dead animals strung up by their tails.

You made a face, and Daryl made one back.

"I'll give yers away if ya gonna keep bein' picky 'bout it." He warned, but it was much too light-hearted.

Still, you held your hands up in defence.

"Okay, okay." You replied, sending him a mischievous smirk. "I'm sorry."

The tension was thick between you, despite the banter. Even as dirty as he was, you wanted nothing more than to fall into the man and press a number of kisses to that face of his. Yet, you refrained. Maybe you could get him into the shower first, away from all these people as well.

"Just take a look at your hair, Dixon." You remarked, once you finally noticed it. "Are you growing it out for me? Because I said I had a thing for guys with long hair?"

It hung over his face, and he pushed the loose strands away from his eyes with the back of his hand. It suited him, but he was definitely in need of a good shampoo.

"Yer really pushin' yer luck today, aren't ya?" Daryl muttered, taking a step closer to you.

You couldn't hide the smile that had spread over your face. Even an exchange as simple as this left you beaming. There really was no one else who could make you laugh quite like Daryl Dixon.

"You've been gone for two days." You reasoned lightly, trying to hide the way it actually made you feel. "Am I not allowed to have missed you?"

He tended to tease you about it, so you tried not to make a big deal whenever he returned home. Yet, you failed every time.

"What d'ya say?" Daryl asked, rubbing his ear.

He'd probably gotten mud stuck in there. It wouldn't surprise you - given how filthy he looked.

"I missed you." You repeated, begrudgingly.

Daryl narrowed his eyes, like he couldn't comprehend what you were saying in the slightest.

"Hmm?" He prompted, waiting for you to explain again.

You huffed and shook your head. You would be dragging him into the showers as soon as he got to the cell block.

"I miss-" you started, before the realisation kicked in.

You immediately slapped the man's chest with the back of your hand, and a smirk spread over his face.

"You're messing with me!" You yelled, and he shrugged his shoulders innocently - like he was completely oblivious.

You attempted to shove him again, but this time he caught your wrist and pulled you in close. Your chest hit his, and you felt the warmth you had been craving. You didn't care anymore about the curious stares, and it seemed that he didn't either. Daryl wrapped his arms around your waist, and you snaked your own over his neck to pull him down to you.

Your noses touched, and you smiled against him. The two of you stayed like that for a few seconds, just taking in the sight of each other - and the feel. You could tell that you'd unintentionally gathered a bit of an audience. The new members of the community rarely got to see Daryl like this, so you often got quite a few looks whenever you were together - and a lot of follow-up questions when you were alone. You ran your fingers through the ends of his hair, that went all the way down to the base of his neck now.

"Well, if you're not going to let me cut it, the least you can do is let me braid it." You whispered, your face still close to his.

You'd threatened it once before, but you were more adamant this time.

"Ya can fuck off." Daryl grumbled back, but somehow he managed to make it sound affectionate.

You laughed lightly, and finally gave him the shortest of kisses that only left him wanting more.

"I think the words you're looking for are 'I missed you, too'."

Daryl Dixon was a stubborn man. You'd realised it from the moment you met him. He was the type to stick to his guns, even if they weren't loaded. You'd seen him argue his way out of something even when he was wrong, and convince you of his viewpoint even when you were right. Daryl Dixon was stubborn - but he always cracked eventually when it came to you.

"Don' say nothin'." He snapped, and you bit your lip to hold back the laugh.

"I didn't say anything." You quipped, as naturally as you were able.

You plucked another daisy from out of the grass, and handed it to the child. She took it in her small fist, and threaded it through the man's hair - messily between the braids you'd given him.

"Yer face says it all." He grumbled, his own looking like thunder.

Daryl was sitting cross-legged on the ground, surrounded by a few of your younger students. They'd begged him to let them put flowers in his hair after eavesdropping on your earlier conversation, and you'd said yes before he could even reply. He was a stubborn man, but he was also a people pleaser.

"Mr. Dixon, what's your favourite flower?" Another girl asked politely, twiddling a bluebell stem between her fingers. "We'll see if we can find it."

You laughed, but quickly disguised it as a cough.

"Yes, Mr. Dixon." You chimed in. "What is it?"

If looks could kill, you'd be dead ten times over. Except, the man didn't look all that intimidating with stray daisies interwoven in his hair, and loose plaits that were in the midst of being braided by clumsy hands.

"Stop bein' a lil' shit." Daryl bit back.

Though, he immediately got punished for it.

"Teacher, he said a bad word!" One of the children exclaimed, pointing to Daryl like he was a shamed dog on the naughty step.

You took a deep breath, trying to keep your composure, and watched as the man did the same.

"Daryl Dixon, if you swear like that again we'll have to wash your mouth out with soap." You scolded, in your most teacher-like voice.

The children laughed their high-pitched laughs, and you could see a small fire burning behind the man's eyes.

"'M gonna murder ya in yer sleep." He mumbled below his breath.

You yanked on the strand of hair you were braiding, before half-heartedly apologising and claiming it to be an accident. Daryl flinched, and whipped his head around to glare at you.

"What the f-" he started, but you narrowed your eyes at him. "Frog." He finished, and you lost it.

You let out what was perhaps the most unattractive snort of your life, which was much too bold to be disguised as any sort of cough. You knew you'd pay hell for this later, but for now you just wanted to relish in the power. You had Daryl in the palm of your hand, his hair quite literally wrapped around your little finger. He turned to glance at you, but you tugged again - but more gently this time.

"Jus' watch what yer doin'." He reminded you, before muttering some more underneath his breath. "Are ya tryin' to scalp me?"

Somewhere in the midst of the exchange, Deputy Grimes has sauntered over with an expression equally as smug as the one you wore. He had Judith in his arms, resting over his hip, and looked down at Daryl with a grin as he approached. He was wordless, but when the two of you made eye contact it was hard to remain that way.

"Jus' don't." Daryl sighed, sounding completely defeated.

"I didn't say anything." The officer replied, and at this point you couldn't deny that there were tears in your eyes.

Daryl looked up at Rick and squinted from the sun. He shook his head.

"Yeah, yeah. Tha's what they all say."

Rick watched the exchange in amusement. It had been refreshing to see him so relaxed during the last few months. You thought that he really deserved a break - and it seemed that he was making the most of it by spending time with his children.

"What did you do this time?" The man asked Daryl.

He shrugged in response, before one of your students reminded him to keep still.

"Nothin'." He grunted, seeming to be at the end of his rope. "Dunno why 'm bein' tortured for feedin' the lot of ya."

The string of squirrels had been passed along to the cook before the children had all but seized Daryl and demanded that he played with them. You may have had some involvement in his kidnapping, but you were only a bystander, really.

"Quit complaining, you big baby." You reminded him, before tucking a flower behind his ear.

Daryl had a vacant stare, but it soon became a warm one when he noticed Judith making some gurgles and smiling in his direction. She had her arm outstretched towards him, and Rick lowered her down so that she could be closer to what she was reaching for. The baby smiled a gummy smile, and ever so gently patted Daryl's head - eyes wide at the array of colourful flowers there. The man stayed completely still and allowed her to do it, and you just watched. You wished you had Glenn's camera during moments like these.

Not long after, the officer said his goodbyes, and left with his daughter. She peeked over his shoulder at the two of you as they walked away, and it made your heart melt as you looked at her.

"She's so adorable." You said, to no one in particular. "I want one."

Daryl choked, and you smirked at him deviously.

"Just kidding." You admitted, as though you hadn't almost caused the man to have a heart attack.

Daryl spluttered again before standing up. Most of your students had left the two of you alone, having gotten bored during your chat with Rick. You watched as the man shook out his hair, letting the flower petals float to the ground like leaves from a tree.

"Jesus Christ, woman." He muttered, looking in your direction. "Calm down, would ya?"

You smiled as you helped him untangle the braids.

"There's only so much a man can take in one day." He went on.

Before long, Daryl’s hair went back to looking just as messy as it had done before, and you once again prompted him that he needed a shower. So, the two of you headed back to the cell block, and you slipped your hand into his to also remind him of how much you'd missed him.

"You never did say which flower was your favourite." You said, once the thought came into your mind.

You glanced over at the man as you walked, but he just gave a small shrug in response.

"Dunno." He said quietly. "Guess I like the yellow ones."

Despite wanting to spend the night alone with Daryl, cuddled up under blankets in your cell as you read him some imaginative hand-written stories, the two of you had been convinced otherwise. Usually, alcohol wasn't permitted inside the prison - something about productivity and sharing that you hadn't really paid much attention to. But, since a lot of people had just returned from a long run, an exception had been made so that you could celebrate.

It was hardly anything, really. There was barely enough to go around to get you tipsy, let alone drunk, and there were only a dozen of you sitting around the campfire - taking swigs from your plastic cups. The spirits had been diluted to stretch it out a bit more, and you were reminded of being a teenager again, swapping out vodka for tap water so that your parents wouldn't notice.

Even so, your body hadn't had alcohol in a while - not since the Jack Daniels you'd all polished off back at Hershel's farm. Already, your head felt fuzzy, and your laughs sounded giddier than you'd intended. You were all sitting on the ground, out in the field. It almost felt like that first night you'd cleared the prison - except so much had changed since then. Rather than tentatively holding Daryl's hand in the dark, when everyone else was asleep, you were now sat in between his legs as his arms held your waist. His chest was warm against your back, and you could feel it rise and fall regularly.

You could also smell the alcohol on his breath, but you didn't really mind. It was rare that Daryl did drink - even when it was available to him. You liked the fact that he could relax for once, since he always seemed to bear the burden of looking after everyone else.

"You two!" Tyreese shouted, catching your attention.

Across from you, the man sat beside his sister, Sasha. Vanessa was also next to them. Out of everyone here, you knew the three of them best. Admittedly, you hadn't got around to learning everyone else's names yet.

You looked up, startled, and Daryl chuckled softly at the way you flinched in his arms.

"How'd you meet?" The man asked, and offered a smile in your direction.

If there ever were such a packed question, it would have been that one. It was the type of question that required a whole book to answer - like one of the stories you'd set for your students to write. You glanced back at Daryl, only to find that he was already looking at you. He remained silent, so you raised an eyebrow at him before realising that you'd be the one answering.

"It was really romantic, actually." You spoke after a few seconds.

Everyone else's chatter had died down, and you suddenly felt very exposed as you became the centre of attention. Except, liquid courage always did work wonders where you were concerned.

"The first time I met Daryl, he told me to fuck off and called me a mule." You announced, like you'd been waiting for the perfect moment to do so.

Your audience erupted with laughter, and you took in the looks of disbelief around the campfire - feeling satisfied with your choice of words. Except, it didn't last long. Daryl jabbed you in the ribs with his elbow, and you shot a glare back at him.

"Tha's not what happened." He argued, and everyone fell quiet once again to listen to what the man had to say.

It was rare that they got to see Daryl like this - letting loose and talking without being prompted to do so.

"Jus' fought off two walkers only to have some chick yelling at me, sayin gimme yer hand like the ghost of Christmas past or some shit." He explained, his voice more animated than you'd ever heard it. "Thought my time had come."

A few more chuckles could be heard in response, but Tyreese eventually spoke up.

"Can someone translate for them?" He asked, and it was then that you realised just how much detail you'd need to tell this story of yours.

So much had happened between you and Daryl that you'd need countless sheets of paper to recount it, unlimited words and a number of chapters. You leant back further into the man, deciding how to officially introduce it.

"Well, it all started with this yellow tent." You said, and the others listened.

You went on for a bit, taking sips of alcohol between your words. Everyone seemed enraptured by you, and it even seemed like Daryl was hearing the story for the first time, too. It felt strange to recount it in such a way, and it made you realise just how much had happened since the world had ended.

You smiled as you finished, deciding to give one last summary to your captivated audience.

"So basically I pulled Daryl up from a cliff-face, then hauled his ass halfway across Georgia, before finally taking a bullet for him."

The alcohol had long since ran out, but everyone had stayed to hear the ending. Maybe you were oversharing, but spirits gave you loose lips - and you always did have a bad habit of running your mouth.

Tyreese started clapping slowly, before pointing at Daryl where he sat.

"You, brother, are one lucky man." He remarked with a smile.

You heard Daryl grumble something next to your ear, before addressing him back.

"She leaves out the part where she stuck 'er finger into my wound and sang outta tune next to me for three hours straight."

You bit your lip before finishing off what little was left of your drink.

"Minor details." You mumbled.

Some of the men you didn't know were murmuring amongst themselves beside you, but your head was too foggy to make out what they were saying. Perhaps Daryl could, since he had a scowl over his face. You didn't have time to question it, though, because Vanessa soon interjected with a laugh.

"So you're telling me that you now share a bed with the same guy who had walker ears around his neck when you first met him?" She teased, and you beamed back at her.

"Yeah-" you muttered, before sighing dramatically. "Sometimes I question my own judgement, too."

The walk back to your cell was more of a stumble, but no one had to know that. You and Daryl both made it there in one piece, so no further questions needed to be asked as to why you were missing a shoe, or who you'd tripped over along the way. It had seemed all fun and giggles, until you realised that it had been one-sided fun and entirely your own giggles.

Once you entered the room, you finally noticed how quiet Daryl had been. He toed his boots off wordlessly and threw his leather jacket into the corner. He knew how much that frustrated you, but he seemed too wrapped up in his own thoughts to care.

You walked up to the man and snaked your arms around him from behind, so that your chest was pressed to his back. All day, you'd been craving for the two of you to just be alone - but now that you were, he seemed too agitated for his own good. You thought that you must have missed something, because Daryl definitely didn't seem like himself.

You rubbed your palms along his chest slowly, but he stopped you with his own hand, and pulled away. He turned to face you, and you cocked your head to the side as you took in his expression. His eyes were narrowed, and he was chewing at his lip like he always did when he was confused. Eventually, he shook his head.

"Yer too good for me." He stated, like it was a fact. "'M a lucky man." He went on. "Why'd ya want someone who wore walker-"

"Whoa, slow down there." You cut him off.

He was reciting all of the things that had been said over the campfire, you realised - except they'd all been playful jokes, and he knew that. The man sounded like a broken record, but you couldn't quite put your finger on what had made him break.

"Someone's had too much to drink." You reasoned, but raised an eyebrow as you did so.

You weren't convinced yourself, but you had no other explanation as to why he was blurting out the things that he was. Daryl was a big man, and the amount of alcohol he'd drank was nowhere near enough to get him drunk.

"'M fine." He confirmed, but you knew there was more going on. "Jus' the truth, s'all."

The man looked down at his feet as he spoke the words, and you sighed.

"We are not doing this again, Daryl." You warned, and took a step closer to him.

Ever since more people had been coming to the prison, Daryl had seemed to convince himself that there were plenty of better options available to you - all without consulting you about it, of course. It had gotten to the point where you'd snapped at him, almost a month back, and it had escalated into a fight. You understood where he'd been coming from - a few people had gotten a little too friendly with you on more than one occasion. But, you'd convinced him that you were right where you wanted to be, next to his side.

You'd thought that had been the end of it, but something must have happened to bring it back to the surface.

"I see the way they all look at ya. Like they want ya." Daryl snarled, like he was seeing things that you couldn't. "They were talkin' 'bout it right in front of me."

And suddenly, it all made sense. The men you had noticed staring and mumbling had set Daryl off. You realised that he must have heard what they were saying - and that it must not have been good. Yet, part of you still felt frustrated that he had even listened to it. You'd spent the whole night recounting how you met the man, and how much he meant to you, only for your words to be completely unravelled by words of others that were insignificant.

"So?" You finally responded, more forcefully than you intended.

Daryl's head snapped up to look at you, and you met his eyes in return.

"I go through the same thing with you."

The man was silent for a few seconds, like he couldn't fully comprehend what you'd said.

"What?" He asked, and you shook your head.

"Just because you're blind to it, Dixon, doesn't mean that I am." You told him.

You placed your hands over his chest again, but this time he didn't shrug you off.

"They look up to you. You're a hero to a lot of these people." You explained, like you'd truly accepted the fact.

You could feel the heat radiating off the man from underneath the tips of your fingers, and you took another step closer to him so that he could feel you, too.

"You don't think there's days that I hear women giggling about you? Talking about you like you're some knight in shining armour who rescued them from this world?" You said, chuckling a little as you did so.

At first, it had killed you to see. Every time you noticed someone staring at the man, or whispering about him when they thought you couldn't hear, it made your blood boil. But, after a while you became numb to it - mostly because Daryl never even spared them a second glance.

"It makes me feel pretty shitty, too." You admitted, as you let your fingers rest over the first button of his sleeveless shirt.

You looked upwards at him, and he gave you a small nod - so you started to unbutton it.

"But then I come back to our cell, and I'll see that you've left me flowers on our pillow." You went on, smiling in the direction of your mattress, where you had missed the man’s presence over the last few days. "Or I'll notice a new cassette tape in my walkman without you even saying anything."

You reached the last button, and shrugged the material over Daryl’s shoulders so that you could see his bare chest.

"And then I forget about all those other people." You confessed, and pressed your palm over his heart. "Because I'm reminded everyday that you're mine."

Daryl immediately placed his hand over the back of yours, and squeezed it gently.

"I'm yours." He agreed, and this time leant down to give you a kiss of his own without being prompted.

It was soft, but you'd missed the feel of him - and it made you impatient. You could taste the alcohol on his lips, and so you broke away before you became too intoxicated by it.

You hooked your fingers around his belt loops and pulled his body closer to yours - so close that his bare chest was warm against you, and you could feel his heart pounding.

"Then show me." You said, and he did.

A/N: So every time I write a chapter of HCtS, I delete the notes for it from my masterplan - and I’m getting so emotional seeing it get smaller and smaller each week. We’re coming to the end and I can’t deal-

Send me a message if you want to be added or removed from the taglist!

Tag List:

@xxboesefrauxx @youhavemyfantasticbeasts @teel-dinosaur @speakinglikeconstellations @bunnymother93 @alularae3 @death-becomes-her @royaleclown @alex-sulli @julesmalek @fuseburner @riverscyberwife @browneyes528 @julesclues @diaryofkali @solinarimoon @ssonia13 @phoenixblack89 @srhxpci @jocyc1997 @bvbwestfall @graniairish @bitchynicole @whitexwingedxdoves @potatochic2003 @suranne-doesstuff @witch-of-letters @sweatywildpanda @daryldixonstorm @btsiguess-kpop @dead-leviathan @reichelhache @thatmemechick

229 notes · View notes

hotchscvm · 3 years

Text

side to side

Warnings: swearing

Word count: 4.6k

Summary: In which you're performing your hit single in front of your fellow Avengers cast-mates and Chris can't seem to take his eyes off of you, catching the attention of a few cameras.

"I'm here with the biggest pop-star of this generation, and she plays the very talented daughter of Tony Stark," the interviewer announced your name, smiling brightly at you as the camera panned your way. The hundreds of thousands of fans at home screaming when your face appeared. "How do you feel with all your nominations tonight?"

You smiled at the camera, giving a small wave at the people watching at home. "Honestly, I'm just glad I was even considered for these nominations. I mean, my girls Taylor, and Billie...they're amazing and I'm so happy to be put in the same category as them."

The lady grinned at you, her eyes twinkling. Or maybe it was her sparkly dress, the fabric nearly blinding you with how it shined under the lights. "If you ask me, you've got a pretty good chance at winning. I mean, your hit single—Side to Side—surpassed, like, a billion views in just a month? That's impressive."

"Well, I couldn't have done it without my fans." you replied, winking at the camera.

It was that time of the year again, where every artist, actor, and YouTuber hit the stage for the People's Choice Awards. With your crazy schedule, and the lack of sleep, you had planned to skip the award show until your friend, and co-star, Chris Evans—Captain America himself—convinced you otherwise. Even with the categories you've been nominated for had been more than a handful, but it was the begging and constant complaining from Chris that made you get off your tired ass and put it into a tight dress.

Your hit single, Side to Side, had everyone anticipated for your performance, unsure if you would be performing until the producers had put your name into the advertisement, making fans blow up Twitter. You were sure they had advertised your own song, along with your movie nominations, more than you ever had.

With nominations of Movie of the Year (Avengers: Infinity War), Action Movie of the Year (Avengers: Infinity War), Female Movie Star of the Year (Amara Stark), Female Artist of the Year, Song of the Year (Side to Side), Music Video of the Year (Into You), Beauty Influencer of the Year, and Social Celebrity of the Year, you had your hands full, which had only made your manager glow with happiness.

"Of course!" the interviewer agreed, glancing at the teleprompter filled with tiny words. "It was rumored that you wouldn't be coming, and a lot of us were upset, including me. Was that just a rumor or..."

"Actually, it's not that far off. I'm fucking—oh, shit—oh no!" you gasped, covering your mouth before anymore foul words could come out on live television. Instead of correcting you, the lady laughed, patting your arm softly. "Can't say that on tv. My bad. I, uh, with everything going on, I've been really tired, and I haven't slept in a week. I just wanted to chill, and accept my nominations at home but someone convinced me to come. So, if I say or do anything ridiculous tonight, I'm blaming him and my lack of sleep."

She nodded, clapping slowly. "I think that's fair. Is that someone, your onscreen father, RDJ?"

"He was one of the many people who unsuccessfully changed my mind, but no, it was Chris Evans. He promised me a day with his adorable dog, Dodger, and I couldn't refuse." you said, grinning at how his face had changed from hopeless to cocky as soon as he brought up Dodger.

"If I'm remembering this correctly, Chris Evans is that very handsome man you had kissed in your music video earlier this year. Into You, right? How do you feel kissing one of your co-stars outside of the movies your working on?"

"Technically, it was still acting, and I have kissed him before, so it wasn't awkward at all." you answered, glad Chris had accepted the role. Not only had it sky-rocketed the views and streams, but it made you feel better that it was his lips you were kissing and not a random model's. Yet, it didn't feel as professional as it had before when you pulled away after a take.

In scenes where you had to kiss the Boston actor, it was as professional as kicking Anthony Mackie's ass in Civil War but the kisses you shared on the set of the music video was definitely more personal. At the time, you had brushed it off as Chris being recently single, but now that you had broken up with Henry, you started questioning it again.

The interviewer nodded, squinting once more to read the words off the teleprompter before asking you another question that would certainly make the headlines. "I've been reading up on all those juicy tabloids and I've got one question that would satisfy my curiosity. Was Into You written about Henry Cavill or Tom Ellis?"

Usually, that type of question made you change the subject or altogether avoid the matter but this time, you wanted to joke about your failed engagement. "Henry, but Side to Side was written about Tom since I wanted more Grammy's considering the last album I put out won me a few. But this time, I'm gonna do it without an engagement."

The woman faked a laugh, surprised by the blunt honesty of your answer. "Um, you certainly do have a thing for British men, eh? I don't want to keep you up, but one more thing, for the fans. They've been dying to know if there's anything going on between you and Chris Evans. Any tea you wanna spill?"

"There's none to spill. We're just friends but it's always amusing scrolling through Twitter to find these edits of us." you replied, fidgeting slightly with the hem of your dress. Like usual, you had wondered if you should've worn something less extra but you had let your stylist play dress up with you for the past few months.

"Of course. Well, good luck to you, and I can't wait to see your performance." she said, giving you a little pat on the shoulders before announcing your name once again.

You got off the little platform, immediately taking Chris' awaiting hand, holding onto it as you climbed down the steps in your dangerous stilettos. Sighing, you leaned on him, trying to avoid the blinding camera flashes. "That was more exhausting than I thought it would be. You need to get me some caffeine after this is over because there's no way I'm making it to the after show without at least a few cans of Red Bull."

"So dramatic." Chris grinned, childishly sticking his tongue out as he guided you down the red carpet, stopping when told to take a picture. He let go of your hand, only to wrap it around your waist as you posed for the pictures. "Are you going to the after party?"

Posing seriously for a few seconds, you let your smile back on your face, facing the man beside you. "I was thinking about it, take a few photos, and head back home. Aren't you?"

"Actually, I was thinking we could ditch it and just hang out. You know, I did promise you some time with Dodger and you could waste a couple hours sleeping." he replied, his hand tightening ever so slightly on your waist. Flashing you a shit-eating smirk, he nudged you a little, pulling you away from the blinding flashes. "What do you say?"

You opened your mouth to answer only to be cut off by your manager, Alexandre coming out of nowhere to rip you away from Chris' arms. The latin man sighed in annoyance, glancing at his watch while giving you the look you've seen too many times before. "You're supposed to be in wardrobe right now. Get your ass backstage, and change before you miss your own performance. As for you, Mr. Evans, Megan wants your ass in a chair."

"I'll see you after." you say, getting dragged by your manager, winking at the actor before walking towards the changing area, the cameras following you until they couldn't enter the area.

Getting ready before a huge performance always calmed you down, maybe it was the smell of makeup or the feel of designer clothing made especially for you, but something about it made you feel comfortable and cozy. It was like a routine, especially with all the music videos and movies you had to film, the makeup, the hair.

They made you sit back, giving you your phone like a child while they made you even more sparkly than before, making sure you'd stand out against the flashing lights during the performance. A performance you made sure no one would ever forget. Smiling, you let your thoughts drift back to a certain super soldier as you were pampered.

—

"Welcome to the People's Choice Awards!"

The room darkened, the blue and pinks lights focusing on the stage as cameras all turned towards your shadow. Making sure your mic was set properly, tried to see past the darkness, to see a familiar face or two but with the headache coming on from the tight half-ponytail didn't help your case. The music started, the beat vibrating, you flipped your hair, and started.

"I've been there all night

I've been there all day (Nicki Minaj)

And boy, got me walkin' side to side (Let then hoes know)"

You rode the bike, belting out in your microphone, the attached headset limiting your movements a little. Gripping the handles, you made eye contact at the camera to your left, winking at it as you pedaled.

"I'm talkin' to ya

See you standing over there with your body

Feeling like I wanna rock with your body

And we don't gotta think 'bout nothin'

I'm comin' at ya

'Cause I know you got a bad reputation

Doesn't matter, 'cause you give me temptation

And we don't gotta think 'bout nothin'"

As you had sung, your eyes had adjusted to the bright spotlight focused on you, seeing a shadow of the one person you wanted to make you walk side to side. While you had answered the reporter's question, you hadn't been completely honest. Some of the lyrics had been written for the Bostonian; or to be more exact, your sex fantasies. With the chorus coming up, you let go of the handles, trying not to fall on your ass as you clapped your hands above your head, the claps matching the beat.

"These friends keep talkin' way too much

Say I should give you up

Can't hear them, no, 'cause I..."

Trying to be bold, you stared at him, his face in particular. The spotlight had blinded you so much that you couldn't see what his reaction was—or anyone's for that matter—but maybe it was a good thing. After all, his gaze always made you blush no matter how hard you tried not to. Pedaling faster, you threw your head back, hoping the motion would draw everyone's—Chris'—eyes on your chest.

"I've been here all night

I've been here all day

And boy, got me walkin' side to side

I've been here all night

I've been here all day

And boy, got me walkin' side to side"

With the help of a shirtless dancer, you got off your bike, taking the sheer jacket from him, and putting it on as you walked towards the front of the stage, moving your hips in to the beat of the song. Resting a hand on a shirtless dancer, you positioned yourself so you were grinding your ass against his crotch, throwing back an arm around his neck.

"Been tryna hide it

Baby, what's it gonna hurt if they don't know?

Makin' everybody think that we solo

Just as long as you know you got me

And boy, I got ya

'Cause tonight I'm making deal with the devil

And I know it's gonna get me in trouble

Just as long as you know you got me"

Sashaying to the little balance beam at the front of the stage, you made sure your hips swayed more than usual.

"These friends keep talkin' way too much

Say I should give you up

Can't hear them, no, 'cause I...

"I've been here all night

I've been here all day

And boy, got me walkin' side to side

I've been here all night

I've been here all day

And boy, got me walkin' side to side"

A few seconds after your note ended, you strike a pose on the balance beam, posing for a few more seconds while the cameras turned their attention away from you and onto the queen of rap herself: Nicki Minaj. The leather, pink bodysuit was identical to yours except for the color, her attitude fitting the badass outfit. She began to walk towards the stage, never breaking eye contact with the camera in front of her while the men pretending to work out to the choreo.

"Uh, yeah

This the new style with the fresh type of flow

Wrist icicle, ride dick bicycle

Come through yo, get you this type of blow

If you want a ménage, I got a tricycle

All these bitches' flows is my mini-me

Body smoking, so they call me Young Nicki Chimney

Rappers in they feelings 'cause they feelin' me

Uh, I-I give zero fucks and I got zero chill in me

Kissing me, copped the blue box that say Tiffany

Curry with the shot, just tell 'em to call me Stephanie

Gun pop, then I make my gum pop

I'm the queen of rap"

By the time she had finished her verse, you had caught up with the multitasking of both working out and singing, able to use your full singing capabilities for your high note. Nicki joined you on stage, hyping up the crowd while you built up for the high note, almost every camera pointed at you except for the one focused on capturing the headline-worthy expression slapped on Chris' face.

"These friends keep talkin' way too much

Say I should give em up

Can't hear them, no, 'cause I...

"I've been here all night (Been here all night, baby)

I've been here all day (Been here all night, baby)

And boy, got me walkin' side to side (Side to side)

I've been here all night (Been here all night, baby)

I've been here all day (Been here all day, baby) (Ooh, baby)

And boy, got me walkin' side to side (Side to side)"

Both you and Nicki motioned for the dancers to come towards you, curling your index finger at the sexy men. Singing the refrain, you both made them drop to their knees in front of you, as if they were kneeling at your command.

Just as the last note was sung, everyone clapped, the majority standing up, and more cheered. You noticed Chris hadn't done either, still sitting in his motionless while two camera men pointed their cameras at him. Your eyebrows furrowed, thankfully after the spotlight had shifted over to the miniature stage where the two hosts were babbling about nominations.

You were ushered off the stage along with the queen of rap herself, taking a few backstage photos before quickly returning back to your dressing room to change into your tailored dress. Your mind had wandered to why Chris hadn't applauded—not that he was obliged too, but a little something would've nice, especially with all the days put into the performance.

Taking a deep breath, you entered the big room, filled with your co-stars and other A-list celebrities. Little did you know you'd find out the reason to your question in the morning.

—

The loud ringtone woke you up, the sound obnoxious and borderline abuse to your ears. Beside you, Chris groaned, rolling onto his stomach, trying to muffle the sound of the call with his arm draped over his head. Putting him out his misery, you lazily reached for your phone, pressing the green button with dread, seeing the name across the screen.

"Hello—"

"You're trending on Twitter." Alexandre announced, happy with the results of the previous awards show. While it wasn't something as big as a Grammy or Oscar, judging by the amount of awards you had taken home, you became the people's favorite. "Hold on, lemme rephrase that. You and Chris are trending. Number one, world wide."

Glancing at the man sleeping beside you, you sat up, confused by the information given to you. You blamed Chris for making you stay up so late for your confusion. "Um, why? Did I accidentally have another nip slip?"

"What the hell?" Chris mumbled, rolling onto his back, his arm grazing your bare stomach. He immediately took it back, sitting up to look over your puzzled face. "What's going on?"

You shrugged, putting your phone on speaker so Alexandre could explain. Your manager chuckled, knowing you had stayed the night with Chris. He was just waiting for the day you'd finally have the guts to speak about the growing sexual tension. "Okay, Alex, explain."

"As much as I would love to go into full detail, I have other stuff to do so, I'm going to give you the basics. Chris' reaction to your performance went viral, people are shipping the both of you, and there's been thousands of memes made." Alexandre replied, a smile evident in his voice. "Anyways, I have to go. Got some interviews to schedule. Have fun getting your way out of this, Chris."

Your phone screen went back to the home screen, a picture of your family dog, Buster, smiling widely. Looking at Chris, you saw his eyes widened, his hands coming to rest of his face in embarrassment as he fell back onto the bed with a bounce, his head nearly hitting the headboard. "Oh, fuck."

"Are you going to show me what your face looked like or do I have to scroll through Twitter until I find it? Oh! Maybe they edited it in my performance." you thought out load, tapping on the YouTube app. You hadn't trusted yourself enough to log into your official account, knowing you'd probably make a mistake so you opted for having a secondary account where you could watch cat videos without the anxiety of posting something stupid.

Chris' hand snatched your phone away, tucking it in his pocket, the sweats he had slept in was somehow wrinkled, and his shirt damp from the warmth. "You wanna get some food? I'll cook some bacon but you'll have to make the pancakes 'cause the last time—"

"I wanna see your reaction." you whined, reaching across his stomach for your phone. Chris turned his body away from you, shielding the phone from your reach. "Chris!"

He waved your attempt away, rolling off the bed, his feet hitting the floor before you could fall back on the mattress.You poured, getting on all fours, crawling towards the edge. Chris took a step back, brows furrowing. "It's not important. Let's get you some food."

"Fine." you mumbled, an idea making you light up. Rolling off the bed, you glanced at his phone on the nightstand, exposed and easy to take. With quick reflexes, you grabbed his phone, rolling back on the bed until you reached the other side, making it impossible for him to reach for his phone back.

"Hey!" the Bostonian shouted, launching himself on the bed in attempt to get his phone back. He made a noise as you rushed out of your room, locking yourself in the nearby bathroom, laughing evilly when he threw himself at the door. He yelled out your name, his fist banging on the door. "I'm serious! Don't!"

Ignoring his begging, you opened his phone with your thumbprint. How ironic how much he didn't want you to look at his phone when he was the one who insisted you have the password to it. His arguments became louder as you opened up his Twitter, immediately heading to the trending section, seeing both your names at the number one spot.

"Damn, I look hot." you joked out loud, making Chris silent for a second before pleading for you not to continue. You smirked, scrolling through the tweets, trying to find his reaction. "Jesus Christ, what the hell happened to you? Did you fall on your face or something?"

Chris groaned, banging his head on the door in defeat as he heard your almost inaudible gasp, that quickly turned into little giggles. If he wasn't so embarrassed, he would've broken the door down to hold you in his arms. "Oh, no."

Bursting out into hard laughter, you fell into the large bathtub, hitting your head on the wall but you couldn't care less. The expression on his face during your performance had been borderline comical, the wide eyes, the jaw hanging open, the open hand resting on his chin while his eyes stayed strained on you the whole time, never wavering from your body, the sexy choreography making his jeans tight.

Cackling like the Wicked Witch of the West, tears ran down your cheeks, your stomach cramping from the maniacal laughter. Lifting yourself up from the tub, you stumbled to the door, your loud laugh ringing out towards the whole house. You let Chris in the bathroom, his phone quickly taken from your hand but it was too late. The blush on his cheeks wasn't going away anytime soon. You leaned against him, your head resting on his chest, while you panted out a question. "Why did you look like you were trying to attract flies in your mouth?"

Chris groaned again, covering his eyes with a hand while the other rested on your back. "You're not going to let me live this down, are you?"

"Oh, God, no." you giggled, wiping the tears away, beginning to calm down. Glancing up at him, you noticed everything above the shoulders was gleaming red, the embarrassment too unbearable for him. "Chris, you looked exactly like the first time we were forced to share a bed together."

"Yeah, you have that affect on me."

"You gonna tell me why you looked so ... shocked? Or do I have to search through Twitter and go with whatever fan theory makes the most sense?" you asked, unable to keep the smug grin off your face. Chris closed his eyes, wishing he hadn't made you come to the awards show in the first place. You raised an eyebrow, fingers itching towards his phone. "You know I'll do it, Evans."

The man raised his hands, taking them off of you as he paced around the bathroom, deciding if this embarrassing moment was the right time to finally confess. "It's just, you know, the dance was so ... sexual and hot that I probably wasn't the only one looking at you like that. You can't exactly blame me for being shocked, watching the girl I'm in love with—"

Chris stopped as you be watched the colors drain out of your face, immediately freezing when he realized what he had said. Both of you stared at each other, eyes wide, not moving a muscle, barely blinking; the atmosphere so tense neither of you were breathing, waiting for the other to talk. But neither of you wanted to go first, terrified.

It wasn't until you started to feel dizzy that you realized you hadn't been breathing, letting out a huge breath, trying to relax while Chris did the same, his hands shaking, a nervous tick he got whenever he was anxious. You got the courage to speak first.

"What?"

It was better than nothing.

Chris was so nervous he nearly ran out of the room. There wasn't some kind of handbook or script he could read, helping him tell one of his best friends how head over heels he was for her. So, he said what his brain was stewing. "What?"

"What—what?" you replied, unsure if he even said the L word, so lightheaded by the sudden confession.

The actor stilled, eyes widening even further, while his eyebrows shot up his forehead. "What?"

"What?"

"Say what one more time, Evans, and I will make nothing but mac and cheese for the rest of your stay." you threatened softly, getting tired of not having an answer to your one-worded question.

Chris took a deep breath, hands trembling as he clasped them together, hoping to find the right words, hoping his inner thoughts would come out clear, giving you the answer you asked for. "I'm sorry. What do you want me to say?"

"What you were saying before. You know, before you looked like you saw a ghost and almost stopped breathing. I think that would be a good start." you replied, backing up to take a seat on the plush chair. Chris mirrored your actions, putting down the lid to the toilet before sitting down.

"This isn't the way I wanted you to find out." Chris whispered, his blue eyes trained on the emotions that flashed on your face. Your uncertainty of the situation didn't help his anxiety.

"Okay, um, were you going to tell me in the first place?" you asked, playing with the hem of your shirt—it had been a borrowed Patriots shirt from him. Looking back, you realized all the little things he'd done hadn't been because his platonic love for you. "Or were you just going to keep letting it be this way?"

Fidgeting with his hands, Chris peered through his eyelashes, seeing the hurt flash across your face before you quickly composed it. "Scott was hyping me up, trying to convince me to tell you before you got into another relationship. Do you know the real reason I broke up with Jenny? It hurt like hell when you announced you were engaged. Fuck, I couldn't even pretend to be happy because you were going to have the life I wanted with you, with someone who wasn't me. It was selfish and I got really mad at myself for being a dick."

"But—"

"And then the horrible, horrible relief I felt when you called off the engagement." Chris continued, his heart clenching. "Truth to be told, that was the day I found out I was in love with you, breaking things off with Jenny. Of course, I wanted to wait until you moved on, hoping to be the friend you went to but with my schedule, that was impossible. So, you seemed out comfort in Henry fucking Cavill."

"You're in love with me?" you whispered, hoping this wasn't some kind of cruel dream. If it was, you wouldn't mind staying.

The actor nodded, waiting for you to call him names and rush out. "Yes. You can leave or slap me or whatever you want to do but I love you."

You got up, running a hand through your hair. "Okay."

Chris' heart sank, wishing for any other kind of reaction, wishing you'd do something. Taking a deep breath, he got up. "Is this a goodbye?"

Frowning, you walked up to him, taking his face between with your hands, pressing your lips softly to his. You could feel his heart beat, the little organ beating so hard. You pulled away before he could recover from his shock, before he could kiss you back.

"Hello."

#chris evans #chris evans characters #chris evans x reader #chris evans smut #chris evans fanfiction #steve rogers #captain america #reader insert #marvel #chris evans x singer!reader #nicki minaj #ariana grande #fluff #side to side #song fic

580 notes · View notes

boxofbadaddiction · 4 years

Text

Nothing's More Important Than Quidditch

Fred Weasley x Reader

Warnings: Some Swearing. Highly Suggestive. Someone gets hurt.

This story is inspired from a request of my F.R.I.E.N.D.S Themed Prompt List.

Using Prompts two and three: "OH...MY...GOOOOD!"/"MY EYES! MY EEYEES!"

Fred and George Weasley were men of simple tastes. They liked pranks, food and Quidditch. Though if you were to ask Fred he would argue that there were nothing more important than Quidditch.

He'd never missed a game. Never missed a practice, and had been able to afford it he'd never miss a Cup. So that being said, you can imagine how shocked his team were when he told them he wasn't feeling well enough to train tonight.

"You're dying aren't you?"

"What? No, Lee. I'm not dying!"

"Then I'm sorry I mustn't have heard right when, the Fredrick Gideon Weasley, just said he wasn't well enough to play Quidditch?"

"Piss off."

It was Sunday lunch in the Great Hall and Angelina had the whole Gryffindor team huddled together. She was discussing her newest game strategies when Fred spoke abruptly, all eyes bulging at his words. Expressions a mixture of confusion and concern. Fred never. Missed. A. Game.

"Hey!" [Y/N] had arrived and happily sat her self amongst her close group of friends. "What's with the faces?" Her brows furrowed as she filled a Goblet with her favourite drink.

"Fred says he's not training Tonight." Angelina answered, still gawking at the Redhead in question.

[Y/N] choked on her drink. "He's what!?" She coughed, hand on her chest in shock.

"It's not a big deal!" Fred groaned. "I've just got one cracker of a headache. Need to sleep it off and I'll be right as rain." He forced a smile, though to the group it appeared more as a painful grimace.

"Well, I do hope you feel better." [Y/N] leant over the table, placing her hand atop of his to offer some comfort with a reassuring smile. "What about the rest of you?" She straightened herself, taking a pastry from the bowl infront of them as she did so.

"We're still training" George replied, "Not all of us roll over because of a wittle headache" he pouted at his brother, trying to stir him up. Fred retaliated, through the light laughter of his friends, by throwing a bread roll at his brother.

"Coming to watch, [Y/N]?" George spoke, still laughing as he brushed crumbs from his clothes.

"Afraid I can't, tonight."

"What!?" Lee groaned, "come on! I'm going!"

"Yes, well as tempting as it may be to spend more time by your side Lee", she leant into him with doey eyes batting her eyelashes flirtatiously, hands cupping his bicep. Returning to her previous position she continued, "I have so much Homework to do it's not funny. I'll find myself joining the next Headless Hunt if I don't hand Snape his Most Potent Poisons Assessment tomorrow."

"Barrell of fun you two are, today" George rolled his eyes.

"Right, well the rest of you. We've got training to do!" Angelina stood, gesturing for the Quidditch team to follow. Somewhat begrudgingly, with various disapproving moans escaping their lips, they made for the Pitch.

"Positive you'll be okay, Freddie?" George lagged behind in a final ditch effort to convince his brother to join them. "You could always just watch from the stands."

"I'm positive, Georgie. I'm just not right at the moment."

"Do you want me to stay? I will if that's what you'd prefer..."

"Who are you? Mum now?" Fred joked "Get out of here you sap!" He waved his arm as if trying to shoo him from the hall.

"Don't worry, George. I'll look after him" [Y/N] assured.

"Such a faithful little bestie you are." He said while ruffling her hair. "Alright then, see you two in a couple hours" he waved to them as he ran to catch up with his team.

"Come on you. Let's get you to bed." [Y/N] spoke to Fred and they made their way to the common room.

---

So much for a couple hours. Mere forty minutes later saw the same team arriving back through the Fat Lady.

"How was I supposed to know she was right behind me!?" George complained loudly, followed closely into the room by the light giggles of Lee and Harry. No such laughter, however, could be heard from the mouth of the Gryffindor Captain.

"A concussion George! You gave Katie a concussion!" She was near shouting at the boy.

"I SAID I WAS SORRY! I didn't see her!" He threw his arms up in defence. "Pomfrey says she'll be right in a few days, what's the fuss?"

"The fuss, George, is that we just lost a whole night's training! You're just lucky our next game isn't for another fortnight, Weasley. I have to take Katie some things for her stay in the Hospital Wing, YOU! had better think fast about how to make this up to her." With a final menacing point of her finger Angelina stormed off towards the dormitory she shared with Katie.

"Should we check on Fred?" Lee spoke to break the guilty silence.

"Yeah, hey - don't forget to tell him how his Golden Boy brother sent our best chaser to the infirmary!" Harry goaded making his way over to Hermione and Ron by the fire.

"Little prat" George grumbled as he and Lee made their way to the dormitory. Lee was laughing hard at his friends remark."He doesn't watch it he won't be 'The Boy who lived' for much longer. Might pick up where You-Know-Who left off." George went on as he leant his back against the door, pushing it open as his hand twisted the door knob. Lee's laughter only increased.

"I'd like to see you- OH...MY...GOOOOD!!" laughter and smiles faded instantly as his eyes fell on the tangled mess of sheets and the bodies of his two close friends in place of where Fred should have been resting.

The sudden exclamations catching the attention of [Y/N] and Fred, their eyes shooting directly across the, should have been empty, bedroom.

"SHIT!" Fred yelled as he pulled off of [Y/N] and covered her with his blanket. "YOU WEREN'T MEANT TO BE BACK FOR A COUPLE HOURS!"

"MY EYES! MY EEYYEES!!" George screamed dramatically. Turning away from the scene he covered his face by his hands, desperately trying to lose the imagine of his brothers and best friends mostly naked bodies.

"It's not what you think!" [Y/N] began, throwing Fred's jumper on over her head which could very well have been a dress on her. She stood, tugging at the material willing it to stay in place before fixing her hair.

"It doesn't look like you were napping!" Lee snapped sarcastically, "nor does it look much like a POTIONS ASSIGNMENT!"

"[Y/N]" George began, not turning to face the two - rather speaking to the ceiling as his back faced them. "I know you said you'd look after my brother but MERLIN I should have laid out some guidelines, that is not how you handle a headache."

Fred had put on a pair of trousers and a singlet and quickly made his way to stand infront of the two boys, arms out pleadingly, "I know you're both a little shocked right now and this is going to take some time to process but for the love of GODRICK!" He clenched his teeth and spoke in a low growl, "would you keep your voices down before the entire bloody common room hears yo-"

"WHAT'S GOING ON!?" Ron had burst through the door. "Oh God" Fred groaned throwing his head back walking away from the door.

"We heard shouting, is everything okay?" Hermione asked frantic, as Harry followed her in.

"Yes, Hermione everything's fine -" [Y/N] went to explain.

"NO!" Lee interrupted "NO! THEY'RE DOING IT!" He screamed pointing his finger accusingly at the two red-faced teens. Harrys eyes were wide with shock.

"It's not what you all think! Please just listen to me..." Fred begged as [Y/N] stood beside him. Looking to one another defeatedly.

Everyone, aside from George, turned to face them. Awaiting the explanation as to why these two had been...doing what they were.

"Uhmmm..." seeing the group stare before him suddenly ran Freds mind blank. "This isn't the first time this has happened. Actually it happens a lot." Not the best opener. The group grimaced, looking very uncomfortable at their friends confession. [Y/N] dropped her head into her hand. "What I mean is" he tried to recover, "this isn't a one time deal. We're not just fooling around, we're..." the words caught in his throat.

What were they? A couple? Was he wrong and they were just friends with benefits? What was this?

They looked at one another, Fred's eyes searching [Y/N]'s face for the answer. She smiled, grabbing his hand gently.

"We're together" she spoke. Eyes not leaving Fred.

"That's great and all. But this is still traumatising." Lee deadpanned as he gestured between the couple and Fred's bed.

George cleared his throat, "umm, yeah. I'm really happy for you two."

"That'd be more convincing, had you actually said it to us rather than the wall." [Y/N] laughed. Fred threw his arm over her shoulders, pulling her into his chest. Georges head turned slightly, eyeing the two in his peripheral before shutting his eyes tightly. Trying to muster the courage. "Yeah, sorry bout that just...it may be difficult to look at you the same for a while. I saw a lot more than I'd had like to." Everyone laughed at the comment. The light atmosphere helping him to relax a bit he turned to face them. Even if his eyes fixed to anything but them.

"Wait a minute." Harrys laughter had stopped completely. "Did you two plan this whole thing?"

"I guarantee we never planned on getting caught" Fred replied.

Rolling his eyes Harry continued "ditching practice I mean."

Lee and George both looked at each other before slowly turning to glare at the couple.

"Well. Yeah" [Y/N] answered.

A slow clap started to sound throughout the room as Lee and George mockingly applauded the two. "Well done. Truly you two that was quite the convincing performance." George smirked. "Honestly, [Y/N], that spit take really sold the whole thing. Couldn't have done better myself." Lee nodded as she playfully curtsied with her hand on the seam of Fred's jumper.

"WELL!" Lee clapped once loudly, rubbing his hands together. "This calls for a celebration. Shall we?" He bowed to the door, ushering everyone from the room.

"Ummm Lee. Mind if I put some pants on first?"

"If you-OH! right. Yeah. Meet you two down there!" He was the last to leave, closing the door with a quick wink.

Fred and [Y/N] looked shyly back to one another before breaking into fits of side splitting laughter. Fred wrapping his arms around her waist as they calmed down.

"So...we're together, huh?" He grinned resting their foreheads against one another.

"Only if that's what you want." [Y/N] placed her hands on his chest, eyes nervously searching his.

"That's all I've ever wanted" he moved a hand to the back of her neck, pulling her lips into his. Kissing her like he never had before.

Fred and George Weasley were simple men. They liked pranks, food and Quidditch. Though if you were to ask Fred, he would argue there were nothing more important than Quidditch. Well...maybe one thing.

#prompt list fics #prompt list #writing prompts #hp imagine #harry potter fanfiction #fred weasley #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley smut #George weasley #fred weasley one shot #fred weasley imagine

677 notes · View notes

myhockeyworld87 · 3 years

Text

A Crosby Christmas

Word Count: 3,713

POV: Reader

Warnings: A little smut, nothing too much...it is Christmas after all

Notes: I know I haven’t been on here in a while, but I wanted to drop this little story here for you guys to enjoy this Christmas! Hopefully I’ll be more active after the holidays. I also have Toews Christmas story I’m working on so hopefully I can drop that soon as well. Don’t worry I haven’t forgotten about your other favs. There will be new Ruined and Not So Dangerous Liaison coming as well. Merry Christmas to you all! I hope that this holiday season finds you healthy and happy! May the joy of this holiday season last all through the coming year! Love and Hugs to all!!!

Christmas had always been your favorite time of year. When you were little, you loved decorating the tree, sing Christmas carols, and of course waiting for Santa. You still loved this time of year, only now it was watching your kids do all those same things. Alexis, now five, and Lucas, three and a half, were yours and Sid's pride and joy. The two were overjoyed for Christmas this year and even though you hadn't celebrated American Thanksgiving yet, they were all geared up to decorate the house.

One of your first holiday traditions when you first started dating Sidney had been to always decorate one tree together, and you'd continued that every year since then. This year, with Sid's schedule and the kids' anxiousness, you were going to be trimming the tree much earlier than normal. God love your husband, as he carried all the boxes of ornaments in, as well as the tree from the garage where you had them stored. The ten-foot monstrosity fit perfectly in your family room, which apparently was a pain in the ass to put up as you'd caught Sid twice almost cursing in front of the kids.

"Daddy, I get to put the star on again this year, right?" Alexis asked drawing her father's attention, as he was putting the last piece of the tree up. "Lukey is still too small."

"Am not," your son, who looked the spitting of his father shouted back.

"Lex, I think Lukey is big enough this year to give it a shot." Lucas stuck his tongue out at his sister who had her arms folded into a pout.

"But Dad…"

"But Lex…" Sid mocked in the same whiny voice as his daughter, then he picked her up and zoomed her around the room to make her smile. He was a sucker for his little girl and she had him wrapped around her pinkie.

"Me too, daddy, me too," Lucas cheered as he wanted in on the fun, and of course Sid happily obliged.

"That's not fair," Alexis pouted again this time stomping her foot in emphasis.

"Alexis Catrina Crosby, if you don't change that attitude young lady, you can march all the way upstairs and not join in any of the decorating." You finally told your daughter, for sometimes she needed that stern voice to keep her in check, especially when her father doted on her. "And remember Santa is watching." That threat always seemed to work magic this time of year.

A lone tear leaked out of her eye, as Sid made his way over to her; Lucas firmly attached around his neck. He crouched down to his little girl. "Mommy's right. You've got to put the star on the last two years. It's time for Luc to have a turn." He remained at her level and Lucas slid off his back and over to the box where the star was almost gloating if a three-year-old could do just a thing.

Alexis pulled her lip out, this time in sadness as she pleaded into her father's deep brown eyes just like her own. "But…but I want to do something special too."

"And you will princess." Sid looked over to you as if you were supposed to have the magical answer to that.

"How about you put the last ornament on the tree. Daddy will leave a spot way up high so he has to lift you up to put it there." Her lip pulled in and suddenly there was a huge grin on her face. You had a feeling it was more about having your husband hold her up in his arms than actually putting the star on. The two seemed to fight for his attention all the time when he was home. The long road stretches killed both father and children, and if you were being honest they were hard on you as well. Thankfully, Sid only had a few short ones here and there before Christmas break, so the kids should be fine. "Well, I think we need to get decorating this tree. What do you think?"

"Yeah!!!" The kids cheered, Sid, joining in. There were a ton of ornaments to put on the huge tree that was once decorated purely in shades of gold. Now it was more of a hodgepodge of colors. There were dozens of Mickey Mouse ornaments from their trips to Disney, along with Paw Patrol ones which seemed to be Lucas' favorite at the moment. There were also ones with their little hand and footprints from when they were born. The tree held all of your life with Sid together. There was one from your first Christmas together, a few that you'd received to commemorate your wedding, and one for each child's birth. Though your favorite had to be your specially made ones with each family member's name on it. You had ones made for both Sid and your parents as well. They were the ones you loved the most putting on the tree as looking at their name brought such great memories of each person. "There's only one ornament left, and it's Alexis'." She came over and took her pink bulb, which had been hand-painted for her, and walked over to her dad.

"Alright, little one. I saved you the best spot at the top, so everyone can see your name up high." She was grinning like a Cheshire cat as Sid picked her up and then walked up a couple rungs of the ladder to get to the right height. This was the part that always made you nervous. The kids could get wiggly from time to time and the last thing you wanted was for them to cause your husband to fall. You weren't worried about the kids, Sid would do everything in his power to keep them safe, it was him you had to fear for. Sid held her out to the tree and it took her a minute to get the ornament in the right place.

"It looks so pretty, daddy. Good spot." He carried her down the ladder, then went over to his little man.

"Ok, Lukey, you ready." Lucas nodded enthusiastically. He had the star in both hands, as Sid took him up farther on the ladder. Lucas reached his little arms out, stretching as much as he could to get it on the peak of the tree. It took him two tries but he finally did it, albeit crooked, but that was no problem, as you'd fix it the moment they were in bed. It's something you'd had to do the last two years with Alexis as well. "Well, are we ready to turn on the light and see how it looks?" Sid asked, already knowing the answer he was going to get from the children, and they didn't disappoint with their enthusiastic cheers. He flipped the switch and the tree lit up as bright as the sky on the fourth of July.

"Yay!" all of you cheered and clapped.

"It's so pretty," Alexis cooed and you had to agree, even though forty percent of the ornaments were on the lower three feet of the tree, compliments of your children, but it was simply perfect.

"I think this is the best one yet," Sid commented, while he slid his arms around your midsection. There was nothing better than this moment you thought as you watched Lucas's eyes just light up, as he gazed at all the twinkling lights, and saw the giddy smile on Alexis's face.

"I think you're right," you said turning so that you could kiss Sid sweetly.

"Can we have hot cocoa and cookies now?" Lucas asked while he tugged on both yours and Sid's legs.

"You bet bud," Sid replied, even though it would be you making the kids' favorite holiday drink. You scooted out of his arms and headed to the kitchen, while the three of them put on a holiday movie. "Don't forget the extra marshmallows, Mommy." Your husband was sometimes the biggest kid of them all.

By the time you made it back to the family room, they had all claimed their favorite spot. "I saved you, your seat by daddy," Alexis said all proud of herself.

"Thanks, baby girl." You passed out the hot cocoa or lukewarm cocoa in the kids' case, then set the plate of cookies on the end table by your husband.

"Did you bake Christmas cookies already?" he whispered, as he saw the Santa shaped sugar cookies on the plate.

"As if I had time. I called the bakery and had them made."

He took a bite of one before handing one to each of the kids. "Not as good as yours but they'll do for now."

"I promise you'll get mine closer to Christmas."

"Mmm…and do I get your other cookie when the kids are in bed tonight?"

You raised your eyes at his double entendre. "I guess we'll have to see, won't be." Though you both knew that he'd be getting your baked goods, so to speak.

Thankfully, Sid had steered the kids toward watching Frosty the Snowman, so after the half-hour was up, you trotted them upstairs for bath time. Sid claimed he needed to 'watch film' for tomorrow's practice, so he skipped out on the nightly ritual, but made it upstairs in time to tuck the kids in for the night. "Night daddy." You heard Alexis say, as you had finished tucking Lucas into bed. Sid brushed back a lock of her hair before bending down and kissing his little girl goodnight.

"Night, baby girl. Daddy loves you."

"Love you too daddy." You walked in then and saw Alexis's eyes grow heavy.

"Goodnight, my sweet angel," you whispered, kissing her forehead. "Love you."

She yawned, then grabbed her teddy bear and hugged it tightly to her chest. "Love you, mommy." Sid grabbed your hand and the two of you snuck out of the room, closing the door as she fell fast asleep.

"Lucas asleep?"

"Yep, he went down pretty easy tonight." Sid had said goodnight to him first and went to read Alexis a story as you did the same for Lucas. "Poor lil guy was tuckered out from all the excitement."

"We make beautiful kids together, Mrs. Crosby."

"That we do, Mr. Crosby," you answered as you headed back downstairs hand in hand with your husband. You'd been trying for baby number three, the last year, but not having any success. It had been easy previously. In fact, you hadn't even been trying when you conceived Alexis. Lucas, you had planned down to the date, so that Sid would be home in the summer to help you both children. You'd automatically assumed that number three would go just as easily, but here you were twelve months into it and still not pregnant. You tried not to think about it too much, but every now and then it would get to you.

You shook yourself, as you hit the bottom rung, taking yourself out of your melancholy. "Cold?" Sid asked, as his arms came around you. "I think I know how to warm you up."

He somehow maneuvered you both into the family room, where he had a fire going in the fireplace, with blankets and pillows all around it. "Watching film eh?"

The signature smirk of his, the one he always gave in the locker room during an interview came out. "Had to surprise you somehow." There was a bottle of wine and two glasses there as well, and Sid poured you both a glass before settling down amongst the cushions with you. "Merry early Christmas, my love," he toasted and you clinked glasses.

The wine went down smoothly and was the perfect ending for what was the perfect day. You took your free hand and captured Sid's jaw, bringing his lips to yours for a heated kiss. It was the perfect mix of Christmas time with the combination of chocolate and wine mixed together with the essence of your husband, and you found yourself falling more in love with him than you'd ever been. He ended the kiss, all too soon for your liking. "Think the kids are sound asleep yet?"

You already knew that Lucas was, but Alexis was probably still teetering. "One for sure, let me check on the other." You still had a monitor hooked up in Alexis's room, so you pulled it up on your phone. It wasn't the video that told you she was asleep but her soft snores. "Yep, she's out. Snores just like you."

"I do not snore," he said rather indigently.

"Um…excuse me, Mr. my nose has been broken so many times I can't count. Yes, you do."

"Well, maybe a little but you love it." When you didn't respond right away, his hands went to your sides to tickle you. You fell back against the pillows laughing, Sid following you down until his mouth captured yours silencing your giggles.

It was some time before you broke apart for air. "Ok, I do love your snores but then I love everything about you."

This wasn't new information to him. "I love you more though."

"Not a chance."

"Guess I'm going to have to prove it." His lips were back on yours then, devouring you. Sid made quick work of disposing of your top, throwing it off to the side, before kissing his way down to your lace-covered breasts. He knew how to make you moan out, as he took one nipple and sucked it into his mouth. Your hands roamed under his shirt, feeling the rippled muscles along his back. They worked their way to his front and his well-toned abs before undoing the fly of his jeans and sliding them down. "Eager, my love?"

Your hand slid down to his cock, where he was rock hard. "Apparently, I'm not the only one." You stroked him in your hand, twisting your wrist as you went; a move you knew he loved. Sid let you have your fun for a bit before taking control of the encounter. Before you knew what was happening, he had you stripped bare laying on the blanket, legs spread for him.

His fingers toyed between your folds, making you even wetter than you already were. He entered you in one swift motion and your back arched at the feel of him inside you. "You feel so good baby," Sid moaned out, then started that slow rhythm of his hips you both loved so much. You weren't sure you would ever tire of this, the feeling of his lips on yours as he slid in and out of your body. It was something that was special that first time and every time after when you made love and you knew somehow that, that would never change.

Sid's fingers found that your clit, alternating between putting just the right amount of pressure there and flicking it back and forth. After all these years, he knew your body as if it were his own, knew what you needed, when you needed it, and knew how to take you over that edge. You were there now, legs trembling as your climax hit and your pussy squeezed him like a vise. He pumped two more times into you before spilling himself deep inside you with a grunt of satisfaction. He dropped kisses to your lips as he came down off his high, then rolled to his side taking you with him.

"That was heaven," you whispered, trailing your fingers up and down his biceps.

"Mmm, it always is with you." He reached behind him and pulled a blanket over your bodies. "I have to say this has been one of the best Christmas decorating days we've ever had."

"I have to agree," you hummed softly feeling your eyes grow heavy despite the early hour of the evening.

"I should probably take you to bed."

"Not yet, let's just lay here for a little longer." Laying there reminded you of the old days when it was just the two of you, and while you loved your two little munchkins, sometimes it was nice to just have Sid all to yourself like this.

His fingers trailed up and down your spine, causing you to snuggle deeper into his chest. "Whatever you want baby." Sid closed his eyes then, just savoring the moment like you were, and despite being the one that said you should move to the bedroom; he was the one to fall asleep first.

The week and a half leading up to Thanksgiving was hectic, as the Pens played at home. You took the kids to as many home games as you could, but it was always a production, by the time you packed up everything you would need for the three to four hours away from home. As soon as Thanksgiving was over, the team was back on the road and you were prepping for Christmas, rushing off to buy gifts while the kids were at preschool. Well, Lucas really didn't have school, but you did send him two days a week to a daycare like environment, so he would be used to being around kids more. You were running around so busy, some days you literally lost track of time.

When Sid wasn't on the road, he was there to help you in any way that he could; taking the kids out to play in the snow, while you baked, or taking them to the rink to skate while you wrapped and hid the gifts. Every free second was spent making sure that Alexis and Lucas would have the best Christmas ever. It wasn't until you looked at the calendar that you noticed you were late. It was December nineteenth, and your period hadn't come yet. Dare you hope that baby number three was finally going to come to fruition? There was only one way to know for sure.

Those five days to Christmas Eve flew by in a whirlwind. Sid had away games until the twenty-first, and then one home one on the twenty-third. There were so many last minutes things to do. Sid's parents and sister came into town on the twenty-second and were a huge help. They were currently upstairs bathing both kids for you, while you and Sid were planning out when to put the presents as it was now Christmas Eve. "I'm not sure Alexis's dollhouse is going to fit under the tree," he whispered, as he had finally finished putting it together with his dad. It was currently out in the garage with a huge sheet over it.

"You're the one who had to get her the biggest one there is." He was always spoiling your children.

"I know, don't start." He said sliding his arms around you as you stared at the tree. "It should fit in that corner over there." Now, that he figured out where the ginormous playhouse could go; he shifted his focus to the tree, looking at all the ornaments that had been hanging for the last six or seven weeks now. You smiled to yourself waiting for him to notice one in particular. "I feel like something is different on there."

"Hmm," you mused just swaying back and forth in his arms. "I think your right."

"What's that one right there?" He said pointing to the ornament that was at his eye level. "I don't remember it."

"Maybe you should have a closer look." He peered down at you curiously, now knowing that you were up to something, before gliding you both over to the tree so that he could have a closer look. "Is that…Are we…" You could hear the excitement in his voice before he turned you around to confirm his suspicions.

You nodded before saying, "Yes, it's my pregnancy test, and it took you forever to notice I put it there."

"What? When?"

"It's been on there since you came home from Toronto. I've been waiting for you to notice." He looked dumbfounded for a moment before scooping you up and spinning you around, his lips locking with yours.

When he finally put you down, there was a huge smile on his face. "I can't believe we're finally having another baby."

"I know me too. It's not the timing we were looking for, but I think you'll be happy with the due date." Curiosity got the best of him and you could see him trying to do the math in his brain to figure out what day it would be. "Well, you always said it was your lucky number," you hinted to him.

"No way!" He shrieked out. "August seventh?" You shook your head, yes, and he spun you around one more time before the patter of little feet and big feet came barreling in.

"What's all the excitement about?" Trina asked before even the kids could get a word in.

"We're having a baby!" Sid told her and everyone came in for hugs, congratulating you both. He knelt down to the kids' level. "Are you excited, that you're going to have a baby brother or baby sister?"

"Can we have twins? Kennedy Jenkins has twins and she says it's fun cause she always has someone to play dolls with." Sid just laughed at his daughter, then tickled her.

"I don't know about all that princess. Let's just be happy that you're getting to be a big sister again." He grabbed Lucas, then came off the ground throwing the toddler in the air. "What about you? Are you excited to be a big brother?"

Lucas just smiled, before looking his dad in the eye and grabbing hold of his cheeks. "I'm excited for Santa." Sid burst out laughing and you all joined in. Santa was definitely rating much higher than the new baby.

"I'm excited for Santa too, bud," Sid told him, then slid his free hand around your waist. "Thanks for making Christmas come early, Mrs. Crosby." Your lips found his in a sweet and loving kiss.

"Thanks for making me a mom again, Mr. Crosby."

He winked at you, that devilish smirk on his face. "Anytime," he breathed out, then added, "This is definitely the best Crosby Christmas yet." .

#Sidney Crosby #Sidney Crosby imagines #Sidney Crosby imagine #Sidney Crosby smut #Pittsburgh penguins imagine #Pittsburgh penguins imagines #nhl smut #nhl fanfic #nhl imagine #nhl imagines

168 notes · View notes

g0ttal0ve101 · 3 years

Text

Eddie in Wonderland (Part 2)

✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿

Eddie then caught the sound of a woman singing from afar. Out of curiosity, he ran over towards the voice, straying off of the path. He moved some strands of grass out of the way, peering at a woman who sat on a mushroom and smoked a pipe. The smoke showed beautiful colors such as pink, blue, and purple, that came from her mouth as she sang. Eddie hopped up on a smaller mushroom beside her, looking up to see her. "You have a lovely voice."

The woman then stopped singing, turning to the little boy who had just interrupted her. With a smile, the woman spoke.

"Who are you~?"

Eddie gulped, feeling a little intimidated. "Uhm...I'm not quite sure...I'm being awfully forgetful-!"

"Who are you?" the woman asked again, blowing smoke into his face. He coughed and attempted to swipe it away with his hand. "If you can't answer that question, you're dumber than I thought~!"

"Well, you see-!"

"I do not see~!" the woman blew more smoke at the boy.

"My memory has been a little wonky ever since I-!"

"Recite a poem~!"

Eddie furrowed his eyebrows, standing up and dusting himself off. "The white rabbit-!"

"No, that's not how it goes~!" the woman blew more smoke in his face, causing him to cough. "The white hare jumped through the snare. The elder man began to stare, only for the rabbit to glare."

Eddie clapped for her, but he wasn't very impressed.

"Now, who are you?"

"If you'd ever so kindly stop blowing smoke in my face-!"

"WHO ARE YOU, LITTLE SINNER?"

Eddie saw the serenity leave her face as she spoke; She was angry. Furious, even. Eddie straightened his posture and gave the woman a glare. "I need to find a white rabbit who has something dear to me. But this size is quite awful-!"

"I AM THIS SIZE, DOES THIS MEAN I AM AWFUL?" the woman grew close to his face, blowing even more smoke and making him cough.

"I do apologize..." he mumurs. "I just...need to get bigger again."

The woman angrily smokes her pipe, getting quite annoyed with the young boy. "One side of the mushroom makes you smaller and one makes you taller."

"But which is which-?"

"ONE MAKES YOU SMALLER AND ONE MAKES YOU TALLER." She snapped, blowing smoke into his face once again.

"O-Okay!" Eddie cried. "Uhmmm...okay, I'll just...lick one to see!" He grabbed both sides of the mushroom and licked a piece, finding that he grew taller. The woman rolled her eyes, almost not pleased that he had found the answer. "Aha! There we go! Thank you for the hel-!"

"SHUT IT!"

"...Right..." Eddie mumured. "I'll be on my way then!" He then put the two mushroom slices in his pockets, making sure he had them for the future. The woman ignored him, continuing to sing the song she did before.

Eddie then followed the dirt path once more, only to be led further into a dark forest. There were many signs around him, each and every one of them having a different direction. This confused Eddie, causing him to stop and look around briefly. "Up...down...left...oh dear..." he muttered to himself. "where should I go...?"

"Twas brillg, and the slithy toves, did gyre and gimble in the wabe. All mimsy were the borogoves, and the momeraths outgrabe."

Eddie heard the singing, but chose to ignore it, seeing that he was already completely lost. "Now where in the world do you suppose that..."

"Lose something?"

"Ah!" Eddie stammered, backing away from the man that stood in front of him. "Oh! Oh, uhhh...I-I was...no, no, I-I-I-I mean, I uhh...I was just wondering..."

"That's quite alright. Oh, one moment please...oh! Second chorus... 'Twas brilllig, and the slithy toves, did gyre and gimble in the wabe..." the man began to sing, resting himself against a tree trunk.

Eddie then notices his purple ears and tail, gasping a little and putting his fingertips on his lips. "Why...why, you're a cat!"

"A Cheshire Cat, but I'd much rather you call me Gray." The man corrected, turning away and beginning to walk. "All mimsy were the borogoves..."

"Wait! Please don't go!" Eddie whined, grabbing onto the man's arm and holding it close to his chest. For some reason, he felt safer with him. It was better than being alone, at least.

"Very well. Third chorus..."

"Thank you very much, sir." Eddie let his arm go, now knowing he had no intentions of leaving. "I wanted to ask you which way to go."

"Well, that depends on where you want to go."

"It doesn't really matter, as long as I g-!"

"Then, it does not matter which way you go." He states, looking up at the sky. "Ah-hmm... and the momeraths outgrabe...oh, by the way, if you'd really like to know, he went that way."

"Who did?" Eddie questions.

"The white rabbit."

"He did?!"

"He did what?"

"Went that way?"

"Who did?"

"The white rabbit!"

"What rabbit?"

"But didn't you just say...I mean...oh dear!" Eddie huffed, folding his arms up and pouting a bit. Gray chuckled a bit at his childish behavior.

"However, if I were looking for the white rabbit, I'd ask the Mad Hatter." He proclaims with a smile.

Eddie's eyes widen as he clenched the bottom of his suspenders. "The Mad Hatter? Uh...no, no, I don't-I don't..."

"-Or, there's the March Hare. In that direction." He added.

Eddie let out a relived sigh, letting his suspenders go, now that he was less anxious. "Oh, thank you. I-I think I'll visit him.

Gray chuckled before once again adding onto his statements. "Of course, he's mad too."

Eddie shook his head nervously. "But I don't want to go among mad people!" He cried out to the older male.

"Oh, you can't help that," Gray began to walk away. "almost everyone is mad here. Ha...hahahahaha!" Eddie felt a pit in his stomach as he laughed like that. A moment ago, he seemed very serious, so a sudden change of mood worried the boy. "You may have noticed that I'm not all there myself...hahaha..." As he said that, he slowly started to fade away into the darkness, as if he was never there in the first place. "and the momeraths outgrabe..."

Eddie tightened his blue tie as he gazed towards a wooden gate to the left of him. "Goodness. If the people here are like that, I-I must try not to upset them. How very curious!" He sang, opening the gate and stepping inside.

✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿

Part three coming soon~♡

#angels of death

10 notes · View notes

windywooshes · 4 years

Text

Mike x Reader

Mike Morton. One of the shining stars of the Hullabaloo circus. A man with humour, looks and wits. Popular and loved by everyone. Yet here you were. Uncomfortable by his presence.

Being one of the introverted kind, you sat on your spot of the long dinning table., fidgeting with your fingers as you waited for the food to be served. Lately you have been getting more attention from the acrobat as you'd enjoy. Him being today's 'servant' didn't make it any better as he kept on squirming around you. Asking if 'm'homie' needed more water or a softer chair. You barely spoke to him yet he acted so overly friendly, trying to stir up at least a decent conversation with you. It was admirable of him as he always managed to dig up a new small talk topic once your voice quiet down. But it still raised confusion and suspicion up.

You didn't belong into the 'manors favourites' as one would call the characters which received the most attention from the owner of the manor. They'd be giften skins and accessoires more frequently or be asked to join matches more often than the rest.

By all honesty ? You didn't mind that at all. Being in the spotlight made you feel nauseous, so you rather stay undercover and hang out with the less 'popular' members of the patch up family. It made you feel at ease to have just a tiny group of people whose company you enjoy. With them, you open up your small petals and go into full bloom, just like a flower which receives the right amount of sunshine.

Yet you were here, cowering away in your parka. Pulling up your petals closer to your core in hopes to hide. Nodding politely and thanking the blonde for every little thing.

The man himself just smiled in return, yet his smile always looked about to flatter away with every new word of gratitude from your lips. Something was not satisfying him and you could feel it by the shiver which went down your neck as he left back to the kitchen.

A few minutes later the door busted open with Mike juggling some fruits, accompanied by a chuckling José who was on butler duty as well, along with Fiona who just enjoyed the view while they placed down the silver tablets full of delicacies onto the coated wooden surface.

Once everything found their right spot, the acrobat once again stood next to the kitchen door, announcing the chefs of tonight’s feast.

„A round of applause for our amazing kitchen fairies, William and Helena~“

With that, clapping and whistling from Kevin, painted the air once more in a positive colorful atmosphere.

You were about to grab a bit of salad and the dish which caught your attention from the very first moment on, when you felt a hand on your shoulder along with a warm breath tickling your ear, followed by the gentle voice of the acrobat.

„If you need anything, please don't feel shy to ask your personal butler, Hamfrey~“

Motioning to himself, Mike gave you a quick wink and seated himself to the other side of the table. You really started to sweat a bit as you weren't used to such close contact with anyone besides some of your closest friends which were far away from here, waiting for your return.

Through half of the dinner, you had some small and energetic discussions with Lucky who sat next to you. Emma soon joined you as well as you discussed the very painful after-match marks you would get from getting the spiked wire wrapped around your body. Laughs and groans were streaming from your small circle which swirled in with the other heated discussions.

On the other side of the table, a pair of sparkly gold blue eyes watched. A pout visibly formed on his lips. Eyebrows furrowed. What is it that makes you feel so open with the others, yet the goldy-lock himself, couldn't give you ? For a while now, Mike has felt a bit bothered by your refusal to open up to him. You peaked his interest when you arrived at the manor. He can't put a finger on it though, why exactly you have been the center of his attention. He just knew that he wanted to see more than the reserved team member who shyed away from him all the time.

Dinner was filling and delicious. You thanked everyone for the meal and were about to bring your dishes away as well as the ones from your seat neighbours as you had cleaning duty today. Since your other partners had a match to prepare for and the other survivors refused to do duty outside their assigned dates, you just ended up by yourself in the kitchen.

Very soon the laughter and noises died out so you assumed it would be the best time to wipe the table clean. As you walked out with a napkin in your hand, you were surprised to see Mike himself, still sitting on his chair. Balancing his head on his palm, he gazed outside of the window which was drowned by black, by the night's darkness.

„Mr Morton, you are still here ?“

Mike's gaze turned lazily to the source of the words. You were expecting some kind of tantrum for you using his last name again to address him as he would usually do, yet he kept quiet and hummed.

„Would you...be so kind to raise your elbows for a bit ? I just need a quick swipe-„

Without jokes or further questioning, Mike obliged to the request and leaned back on his chair for you. Seeing him so silent was surprising, if not a bit frightening. You could sense something felt off and that he might need a bit of cheering up time himself. So once you were done gathering crumbs, you turned your attention back to him.

„C-could you...lend me a hand in the kitchen ? Washing the piles of dishes by myself will take a bit long and I could really need a helping hand. If you don't mind...“

The blondes eyebrows arched up at your request, not used of you asking him for his help. He just trailed behind you like a puppy into the four walls of the kitchen. Grabbing a sponge, he started to wipe the plates squeaky clean while you dried them off with a cotton fabric, sorting them into their shelves afterwards.

Silence once again fell upon the both of you, so you tried to start a conversation with him as he used to do with you. It caught him off guard but he was not unhappy about the change of events. The topics went from how to make the rocket chair land without hurting the survivors to Jack wearing a tiny top hat which earned some laughs from the pure image of it.

„(Y/N)...why do you keep avoiding me ? Do you hate me ? Is it because of my image ?“

You didn't know what to say for a second. The atmosphere drastically changed from happy to serious which you didn't expect. Mike's eyes drilled holes into you, waiting for an answer.

Scratching your neck you looked to the side.

„Mike...I like you. But I don't like how you always force yourself to smile. It's okay to show your true feelings as well...“

The blonde continued to starre down at you. Yet disbelief clouded his face. He always made sure to keep his act up. To stay the sunshine he was. Smiling, funny, entertaining. The perfect show cast. Yet here you were, looking past all of it. No one dared to say anything or to ask him if he was doing well. Because they saw the smile he presented.

Yet he remembered again why exactly he was so focused on your from the very beginning on.

As you were the only and first one to tell him that it was alright to vent or be sad for a bit after they had a terrible loss against the Geisha. He was clearly not happy with the results and focused the blame on himself.

But you were next to him, rubbing his back when he was not in the mood to smile. Giving him the impression that he was not only an actor but also a human who has other sides to him than the positive ones. That he was allowed to feel frustrated or sad. How could he forget that someone was actually caring for him once.

„Besides. I love your genuine smile the most. It outshines Apollo himself by far.“

And by flashing him that big warm smile of yours which only the luckiest ones got to see, his face flushed up. Since he remembered the second reason why he was so concentrated to see you happy.

Blooming inside of him that night, was a flower of affection and care for someone, which he never expected to experience before. And it soon would be the reason why he could smile with his full heart behind it.

#identity v x reader #idv x reader #mike morton x reader #mike morton #idv mike #idv acrobat #identity v acrobat #identity v #idv survivor #idv survivor x reader #x reader #reader insert #rly doing these as some type of vent #hope they brung some joy

229 notes · View notes

imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl · 4 years

Text

You Have Me (Pt. 03 of 10)

Pairing: John Wick X D'Antonio!Reader

Word count: 2.5K

Summary: You, a D'Antonio, were raised completely oblivious to everything that had to do with the High Table. When your father dies, you find out that the world isn't how you thought it was. In Gianna's party, unknown men try to kill you, but someone steps in and saves your life. John Wick. The man takes you to the Continental, the only place you'll be safe. You're completely lost, no idea what to do to survive in the new, cruel world you were thrown into. But a letter from your late father tells you to find a man, who is the only one who could keep you save and carry a plan to release you from the High Table. The man is the Baba Yaga, John Wick, the same who saved your life.

<- Previous part (02)

Next part (04)->

{John Wick Masterlist}

In the last nine days, John has been in and out of the hotel, meeting some people, trying to get in touch with others. Yesterday night he finally had a break, since now he has to wait for one of your father's affiliates to fly here. So this morning, you shower and dress up as if you're going to the gym. Leggings and a tank top. But you're forced to put on a coat to leave the bedroom because it's a bit cold. John is in the kitchen, having breakfast.

“I thought you were still sleeping,” You tell him, grabbing an apple.

“I just woke up.” He takes a look at you. “Going to work out?”

“No. But now that you apparently had a break, I still want to learn how to throw a punch.” Taking a bite, you sit before him on the table. “But if you gave up the idea, I'll hit the gym. I just found out this hotel has one.”

“It does.” John puts his coffee down, getting up. “But I meant what I said. C'mon.” He goes to the living room and you follow. John pushes the coffee table and the couches away, leaving a big space in the middle. Crossing your arms, you watch from the kitchen door frame.

“I'm impressed you're really doing this. I was waiting for you to just-”

“I'm only doing this because we need to be prepared for any kind of situation.” He gestures for you to approach and that's what you do. “I'll only teach you enough to get you some time to run and-”

“To run and find you.” You point out to him, a playful smile on your lips as you pace around the living room. “But c'mon. I don't know about you, but I want this to be a good time. It helps to distract me from what it really means.”

“It sounds like you're bored.”

“To death. I barely see you anymore, it's like I'm completely alone here.” You gesture to the apartment in general.

“Sorry, I've been meeting up-”

“I know.” The tone of his voice gets all professional again, a lot darker. He has a wound on his lower lip, which he probably got because of you and you father's plans. “That's why I'm trying to take this lightly. To take away the meaning behind it. Now let's go. How can a little girl like me take down a man like you?”

“As a start, you go for the most fragile spots. Throat, eyes, nose.”

“Fragile?” With both hands on your hips, you decide to scare him a little bit. So you move to kick him in the crotch, with the intention of stopping halfway. But John kicks your leg to the side, grabs your knee and pulls it up, moving to throw you hard on the ground. But instead of hitting the floor, you're more like lied down gently. But all the sudden motion is enough to make you lose your breath. “You proved a point. No joking around with you.” You burst out as he let's go of your leg and reaches out his hand.

“Just showing you what could've happened.” John pulls you up too hard when you take his hand, causing you to almost hit his chest. “They'd let your head hit the floor, what would leave you disoriented for a few seconds at least.”

“Got it,” You mumble, stepping back.

“Let's practice how to set free from someones grip.” He paces around you, holding you from behind with both his arms, in a way you can't move yours. “Keep in mind they will be squeezing you, so you'll be in pain.” But when he lifts you up, you suddenly burst into a laugh, which makes John put you back down immediately. “What is it?”

“Sorry. I'm ticklish.” You say, still catching your breath. You're about to apologize again, but when he loses his grip and you turn around, you see a smile. It's the same you saw a while ago as if for a moment he forgot everything that's going on. It makes him even more handsome, easygoing... He seems happy, or at least as if he could be. You promised you'd try to make him laugh, that you'd try to make him feel better, even though it may only be for a few seconds. And suddenly you notice how close you are. John slowly lets go of you, but something just won't let me step away. “But it would scare them away, right? If I suddenly started laughing.”

“They'd think you're insane, but it wouldn't stop them.” It all comes back, the smile disappears and his whole face changes.

“I know...” Running a hand through your hair, you wonder what you should do next. So you try to punch him again, and just as he did the first time, John grabs your wrist before you can hit him. “One day I'll surprise you, John Wick.” As you're done speaking, you try to punch him with the other hand, but the same thing happens and now he's holding both your hands. “Shit.”

“You'll have to be a lot better than this.”

You could kiss him. You bet that would be a surprise. John is standing so close, you'd only need to tiptoe. “I will, believe me.” You're not sure if you'd do it, but a knock on the door makes him to let go of you.

You watch as he goes to answer it, coming back from your daydream, telling yourself not to go there again. You're about to sit down to wait for him to return when you see through the corner of your eyes John being pushed violently. As he falls, a man comes in, a gun immediately pointed at you. You run and he shoots. On your way to the kitchen, you see as John gets up, colliding with the man, and somehow taking the gun from his hand. You stop by the door frame, unable to move. Your eyes follow John's every move, and as he overcomes the man, you manage to calm down. Soon enough the man is a bleeding mess on the floor. John checks him before coming towards you.

“Are you alright?” His eyes quickly scan through you, but you're more worried about the wound on his forehead.

“You're hurt.” Pushing his hair away, you check the small cut, your hands cupping his face. For a moment you don't care if that man came in here to kill you, you're way too worried about John being hurt. This feeling surprises you, but you choose not to think about it. “Come, let me clean it.”

“No. I'm used to it. We need to call Winston.”

“Well, I'm not used to it.” As he goes for the telephone, you get the first aid kit. John rudely asks someone to get in contact with the man called Winston, demanding him to come here immediately. When he hangs up, you stand before him, holding the kit. “Are you going to sit down and let me clean your cut or will I have to force you?”

With a quick, small smile, John moves to the couch, and you sit down beside him. He stands still as you clean the wound, relieved to see it's indeed small. “I was going to be a veterinarian, you know?” You tell him once you're done because he seems curious about how you know yiui way around the kit. “Well, I was supposed to graduate this summer, but since I had to leave the country... It might take a while longer.”

“Really?” You feel his eyes on you as you put everything back in the box.

“Yes. Despite my father's fortune, I always wanted to have my own life. My own money. I even agreed to give up my part of his heritage.”

“What?”

“It's crazy, I know. Some years ago Santino and Gianna were fighting over it and when they started to include me, I decided I didn't want it.” Remembering this episode was already bad, now it's way worse, with both your father and sister dead. And Santino hunting you down. “They were quick to set up the documents I had to sign. But after that, father opened a bank account for me and started transferring some money ever month.”

“He wanted you to be safe.”

“Yeah.” You forget the bleeding man on the floor, eyes locked on John's. “Thanks again, John. You saved me.”

“It's my job.”

“No, it isn't.” You friendly touch his arm, your hand lingering for too long. “I-” The door is opened and you move faster than John, suddenly ready to run. But the man who comes in doesn't seem like he came to kill you. He takes a deep breath when he sees the man on the floor.

“This is Winston. The owner.” Both of you observe as Winston checks to see if the man is alive. “I didn't break the rules.”

“Good for you.” He says, shaking John's hand before coming to stand before you. “Miss D'Antonio. My deepest apologies for not coming to greet you earlier, but John and I are working day and night to carry out your father's wishes.”

“Call me (Y/N).” You don't like the tone people force when they call you by the last name. “I'm more than just a surname.”

“Absolutely. I see that you indeed became everything your late father wanted you to. A beautiful, intelligent woman. An example of purity, judging by where you came from.” He claps his hands twice, and two men come in, taking the knocked out one away. “He will be taken to the alley and will be made an example of.”

“Good.” John nods, and Winston stares at both of you for a while. To John and then back at you. “Something wrong?”

“I have two pieces of advice. One for you.” He gestures at you. “And on for you.” Winston turns to John. “One is good, the other no so much.”

You don't like his tone, so you move closer to John, hiding a little behind his shoulder. “Enough mystery, Winston. What is it?”

“Dear (Y/N).” Winston takes your hand and pulls you away from John. You exchange a glance with him, and he nods, as if telling you it's ok. It's annoying how people feel like they're somehow intimate with you thanks to the surname you care. You don't like it. “Be careful with your feelings for John Wick, do not let them grow and become... Something more. He represents everything your father fought so hard to keep you away from. He's the very opposite of who you are, who you want to be. You might be the only good, righteous thing that came out of this cruel world I live in. Don't let him corrupt the purity, the gentleness that resides in you.” Before you can answer, he let's go of your hands and turns to face John. “And you, Mr. Wick, please, fall in love with her. You could use a light in your life, something to rescue you from the depths where you've seen to have fallen again. Someone so kind and generous would certainly heal the wounds you carry.” With a smile, Winston walks away, not giving you time to come up with an answer.

You just don't get it. Who hell does he think he is? What does he think he knows? “Tell me something, Winston.” He stops at the mention of his name. His words about John are burning ony your mind, and you can't keep your mouth shut. “If you were walking on these streets and saw half a dozen men surrounding a stranger, guns at their head, what would you do?”

He seems a little confused. “I would keep walking. As should you.”

“That's the difference between you and John.” You step forward, arms crossed. “He isn't here because I'm paying him. He saved my life at Gianna's party, asking for nothing in return. So you don't have the right to talk about him that way. If I'm good and righteous despite the place where I came from, so is John.” Winston opens his mouth to say something, but you raise a hand. “Thank you for your advice. And thank you for working on my father's plan to help me. But don't talk about things you don't understand. Or about people you don't truly know.”

“You are spectacular.” He says with another smile. “I will send the cleaning crew in. And please, John, take the lady to dinner. Our restaurant is at your disposition.” That said, he leaves, and seconds later the cleaning crew comes.

It makes you sick to see as they clean the blood, so you go to your bedroom. Opening all the curtains to let the light come in, you sit on the bed, staring at the buildings before you. What Winston said... Where did that come from? You have to be careful with your feelings for John? While has to fall in love with you? How stupid. Winston thinks he has everything figured out, but he couldn't be more wrong. If he's as smart as he thinks he is, he should know that what's more likely to happen is the other way around. John would never look at you like that... But you? You were already thinking about kissing him even before Winston showed up.

“Don't be stupid,” You tell yourself, getting up and walking over the window. It's beautiful here, even though the gray clouds give the city a monochromatic look.

“You're not stupid.” John's voice startles you. You didn't notice you left the door open. “What are you thinking about?”

“That Winston is a jerk. But I bet you already know that.”

“He's just good at reading people.” He comes to stand beside you, eyes on the city. But yours are on him. Tracing and memorizing his features. When he moves to look at you, yoy turn away quickly, staring at the city again.

“I don't think so.”

“We should have dinner at the hotel's restaurant though. At least until it's safe enough for you to start going out.”

“People will stare at me. They always do, as if they know me just because they knew my father.”

“You can't blame them for looking at you.” His voice is lower, deeper.

“Blame it on my dead father, dead sister, and murderous brother.”

“That's not what I meant.”

“What could you possibly mean?” You finally allow yourself look at him again, meeting his eyes. “You have such nice eyes.”

“You already said that.” A smile makes its way to his lips. Beautiful, soft lips.

“Well, you have a nice everything, actually.” Shrugging your shoulders, you put a lock of hair behind your ear, just as an excuse to look away.

“You're pretty too. More than that. People would look at you even if you weren't (Y/N) D'Antonio.”

You're blushing. You're sure you're blushing. Stepping back with a giggle, you cross your arms. “I'll put on something elegant then. And since all my expenses are paid, you can order anything you want.”

“Sounds good to me.”

#john wick #john wick x reader #john wick x y/n #imagine john wick #john wick fanfiction #john wick imagine

110 notes · View notes