#Chris Evans mini series | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

andydrysdalerogers · 10 months ago

Text

Can I Count on Forever? ~ Chris Evans

Chris Evans x Senator Reader

Word Count ~ 4.2K

Songs: The Man by Taylor Swift; Paper Rings by Taylor Swift; Lover by Taylor Swift

Its been three years since you met Chris and today, you take one of the biggest steps of your life.

Part Three of the "Can I?" mini series - Part One // Part Two // Main Masterlist

Warnings: fluff, SMUT (p in v, oral – female receiving, slight dominance kink), mentions of cheating, accusations of cheating, political nonsense.

A/N: Happy Valentine's Day! Just a quick message. While I have tried to keep this politically neutral, I will say that I have no idea what any real-world person’s views are and will not assume. Also, I am not an expert in politics and will not claim to be. In the US, we have an election in November. Please, inform yourself on all of your local, state and federal races and issues and remember to register and vote. You can’t complain if you don’t vote!

Your POV

Clack.

Your heels clicked on the floor as you walked to your destiny. It was the end of a fairy tale or the start of one, and you weren’t sure if you could get through the double doors. You thought back on your life, closed your eyes and prayed.

It had been a year since Chris proposed and it was here, your wedding day. As you woke on that bright May morning, you reached for your fiancé and found the bed empty. But a smile crossed your face. He wasn’t in the hotel with you. He was at home with Dodger and his groomsmen while you were at the hotel with your bridal party. As you stretched, there was a knock at the door.�� “Room service!”

Curiously, you opened the door, and the bellman pushed a cart in. “Mr. Evans asked us to deliver breakfast and champagne to you to start your special day right. Congratulations ma’am.” He stepped back out and you squealed. Opening the cover, Chris had sent your favorite breakfast, along with coffee and champagne. Savoring the meal, you sent a text to Chris.

YN: Thank you, love, for my breakfast! My fiancé: You’re welcome. Only six more hours before I see you again and you make an honest man outta me.

You hugged the phone to your chest when your maid of honor knocked yelling for you to open.

A few hours later, you were waiting in your bridal suite, your father comes in and sees you for the first time. “Oh, my baby, you look beautiful,” tears forming in his eyes

“Thank you, daddy,” your own tears welling up.

“No, don’t cry.” He handed you a tissue. “Chris is a lucky man. I am so happy you found each other.”

The wedding planner knocked. “We’re ready for you.”

As you stood at the double doors, you thought back to how you got here. How you fought for each other, against the world. The doors opened and all you could see was Chris.

Chris POV

I stood at the altar, waiting for those doors to open again and let my beautiful girl come to me. The past three years had been a whirlwind, and I wouldn’t trade it for the world. All the bridesmaids make it down the aisle and little Stella finishes with her flowers and the music changes. Everyone stands and the doors open. My jaw falls open. I can’t see anything else but her. She’s an angel, all in white, gliding on her dad’s arm. The tears are building up in my eyes at how beautiful she looked, my little senator.

Once she reached me, I could feel a tear rolling down and she reached up and wiped it away. “Please stop crying,” she whispered. “You’re gonna set me off.”

I could see her lip tremble a little bit. I kissed her hand, "I love you," I whispered.

We kept it traditional, reciting words that have been said by couples like us thousands of times over. When I slip that ring on her finger, it was like a part of me that was missing got put back and I’m overwhelmed.

“I now pronounce you husband and wife. Chris, you may kiss your bride.”

“Finally,” I breathed as I took her face in my hands and kissed those lips that had haunted my dreams since the first day I met her. It was perfect and when I pulled away, her lips were just a touch redder and more swollen, her eyes danced.

“I now present to you Mr. and Mrs. Evans!”

The whole church cheered, and I took my wife’s hand in mine and walked out. After three years and one horrible misunderstanding, I finally have my girl on my arm as my wife.

The reception is amazing. YN and the wedding planner did a great job. It's intimate and romantic but not over the top. Her father wanted to take out a house loan to pay for whatever YN wanted but she refused. “I don’t need you to be in debt Daddy. Give me a reasonable budget and I’ll make it work.” That is my girl, always modest. But this is a once in a lifetime, if I have any say in it and I want it to be her dream. I talked to her dad on the side.

“Mr. YLN, I just want YNN to have everything she wants, so get your budget together and I’ll double it. I want this to be a gift to her but never find out, because her smile will be my thanks.”

It worked like a charm because I can see the tears in her eyes as she looks at the room and see her vision come to life. “Oh my...” she whispers. I take it all in, the crystal vases holding the red roses, tea lights on all the tables. The walls have a soft light to them, and the dance floor is decorated with lanterns and rose petals. “It's perfect.”

“It's you, my beautiful wife.”

It's hours before I can take her home, well, to our honeymoon suite. She’s exhausted, riding up in the elevator. I scoop her up in my arms, her heels already dangling in my hand. “You going to sleep, baby?”

“Hmm, no, not yet. Just tired.” She smiles at me. “It was the perfect day.”

“Oh yeah? Something important happened?” I tease as we get to our honeymoon suite.

“Not really,” she shrugged. “Just tied myself to the perfect man.”

“Sounds fun.” I had one more surprise for her. I opened the door and carried her in. The room was decorated in candles and roses, a bottle of champagne next to her favorite snack. I had always dreamt of that night we had by the fire after I had proposed. It was perfect and I wanted to recreate it for her. Except this time, the hotel laid out blankets and pillows in a beautiful bed.

“Chris,” she whispered, and I could tell she loved it.

I set her on her feet and pressed my front to her back. I leaned down to whisper in her ear. “I was an idiot the first time I made love to you in front of a fire.” I found the zipper on her dress and slowly began to bring it down. “I was apologizing for being the biggest jerk in the world after you protected me. I wasn’t appreciating the setting or taking my time with you. But this time,” the zipper was down and i kissed her shoulders, “this time I want to worship you because you made me the happiest man in the world.” I pushed the bejeweled straps of her gown down and she gasped at the sudden cool air.

“Oh fuck,” I murmured as I took in the lacy white corset, teeny tiny white panties and stockings. She looked like a goddam angel that was going to send me straight to heaven. I lifted her out of the gown and spun her to look at me. “This is like a present for me,” as I run a finger over the top of the corset.

“Unwrap me Chris,” she said in a low sultry voice.

And I crumble.

Because there is no way I would say no to this gorgeous creature right now.

I kiss her softly and pull away, kissing her forehead before turning her around again. I undo the ribbon holding the corset closed and let it fall away. I kneel down and roll down the stocking and tip her foot so she can lift, and I can remove one stocking, repeating on the other. I run my hands up her legs, feeling her shiver under my touch, listening to her breath hitch. I kiss right under each cheek, giving a nibble on one.

“Chris,” she moans, “stop teasing.”

“Is that an order Senator?” I smile against her skin. “Or is it a request? Because,” I spin her again, so she is facing me while I’m still on my knees, “if it's an order, then we have a problem.”

“What problem?”

“I remember you promised me that I would only take orders from you in public.” I kissed around her belly button. She moans and her head tilts back. “But I would give the orders in our bedroom.”

“We’re not in our bedroom,” she argues. “We’re... oh.... oh fuck,” she whimpers as I kiss over the scrape of lace she calls panties and press against her mound.

“Want to try that again, Mrs. Evans?” I pull the lace down just enough so I can get my nose close to her center and inhale that scent that is only her.

“I...” she studders and I chuckle. I yank the lace away from her body, ripping them off.

“Chris!”

“No,” I say in a husky voice. “No orders from you, Mrs. Evans. You want something, you beg for it. because until we get back from our honeymoon, you are not in charge. Who is in charge?”

“Fuck,” she cries as I let my finger circle her clit. “You’re...hmm... you’re in charge.”

“Good girl.” I stood up and lifted her into my arms, wrapping her legs around me. “Such a good girl for me.” I walked us over to the fireplace bed and laid her down. I took a long look at my prize, my angel, my wife. “God, I’m a lucky bastard.”

I didn’t realize I said that out loud until she giggled. Then she grabbed the end of my undone bow tie and yanked me on top of her. She kissed me hard and then pulled away. “Please Chris, let me see my husband naked.”

“Fuck me.” I pulled the tie off, straddled her and grabbed her wrists. I tied them together and lifted her arms above the head. “Naughty girl,” I said. “No touching now. Bad girls don’t get to touch.” She wiggled under me, trying to get relief from me.

“I’m sorry, baby, please, I’m sorry. Let me touch you.”

“No.” I stood up and started to strip. I unbutton my shirt slowly, working the cufflinks she had given me as a wedding present off carefully. She licked her bottom lip and I smirked. I was shirtless, which, if she had her way, she would keep me like this every day. I moved quickly with my belt and the button of my slacks. She whimpered and I bit my bottom lip. “You should have stayed being my good girl, little senator.”

“Chris, you’re being mean,” she whined.

“Am I?” I let my pants hit the floor before I crawled up her body. I kiss her inner thighs, sucking little bruises as I go. “I’m sorry sweetheart.” I kiss right above her clit, and she bucks at the sensation. I pin her hips and licked from the bottom to the top of her pussy. God, I love the way she tastes, the way she coats my tongue in her arousal. Fuck, do I love being in between her legs. “So good,” I tell her, “taste like heaven.” I work my tongue in her, fucking her while my thumb presses down on her clit. “Fuck baby, you’re even tight for my tongue.”

“Chris,” she mewled. She was close, so fucking close.

“Come for me little senator. That’s an order.” I shoved two fingers into her cunt and sucked on her clit at the same time. she shattered, crying out as her orgasm fluttered through her body. I made it last for as long as I could. I tease her relentlessly and get her right back on the edge. Then i pull away and she cries in frustration because I know her orgasm is fading. I climb up her body, tasting every inch of skin I can until I can wrap her legs around my waist. “Hang on, baby.”

She grips the straps around her wrists and then I force my way home. She screams as I bury myself in her to the hilt. But I’m not cruel. I wait until she is comfortable and then rock into her, leting her feel every inch, every ridge, every vein of my cock along her ways. Fuck, she feels so good. I’ve only fucked her bare a couple of times and the feeling of her heat, how wet, how needy she is, I’m going to fucking die a happy man.

“Harder Chris, fuck, please harder.” I grab her legs and push them over my shoulder so I can fuck her into the mattress. She feels like fucking heaven and tighter in this position. I can’t believe I get to do this with my wife. She’s moaning and crying out from all the stimulation. I don’t want to ever stop.

Your POV

Chris is fucking you to within an inch of your life. You are in heaven, lost in the heavenly glow of sex and you need him. “Chris, please,” you pleaded. You know what he wants because you want it too. He pulls out quick, making you cry before he flips you to your front and gets your ass in the air.

“This pussy is magically,” he says, looking it over before he fills you again. You have always loved this angle. You can feel everything and when he moves, you can feel his balls hitting your clit. Its perfect.

“C-chris, I can’t hold on,” you whine. “Husband please!”

“Oh shit,” he moans, “that’s fucking hot.” He thrusts faster. “Say it again. Say! It!”

You’re on the cusp of euphoria. “Chris, Husband please!” He ruts into you, reaching down to circle and stroke your clit and you break. You scream your release, gripping his cock, squeezing him until he released into you, coating you in his cum.

“Fuck!” He pumps a few more times until he stops, lowering you gently to the bed, not ready to separate. You lay there on your sides, legs tangles to keep you connected, catching your breaths when you start to giggle. “And what is so funny, my wife?”

You take a breath to speak. “You have a kink, baby. You like it when I called you husband.” You turn to look back at him.

He smiles before leaning over and kissing you again. “I also like calling you Wife and you like it too. You clenched involuntarily and Chris hisses. He caressed your thigh. “Told you.”

After Chris cleans you up and you both crawl into bed, you find myself laying on top of his chest. “I wish we could stay this way forever.” You place a kiss on his chest.

“I wish we could too, little Senator, but then how will you rule the world?”

Its a valid question. One you are excited to figure out.

You’ve been married for two months and now you are at the National Convention. Getting married during an election season was crazy but your team and Chris’s said it would give you the best boost. You were set to become the youngest and second woman nominated for the office of President.

As you stood in the wings of TD Gardens in Boston, Chris watched as you paced back and forth, looking over your note cards for your acceptance speech. “Sweetheart, don’t be nervous.”

“That’s easy for you, Chris, you’re an actor. You perform for millions.”

He chuckled and shook his head. “I act in front of a camera for twenty people and then they watch after its edited. YN,” he stopped you and wrapped you in his arms. “You are a brilliant speaker. The people have nominated you, they believe in you. I believe in you.” He tilted your head up so you would look at him. “Go out there and be a rock star, Little Senator.”

The convention went off without a hitch and it was the final three months of the campaign. It was grueling, city after city, town hall after town hall. Chris could only be on the road with you for a few days at a time as ASP launched into the primer source for facts in the election. He had to host panels and discussions. Video chats in between calls and meet and greets was not how you imagined your first few months of marriage but it could all be worth it.

Chris POV

I was late for our video date. “Fuck.” I was jogging to my office in the ASP offices so I could call YN, when I was stopped by Megan. “What’s up?”

“Chris, there is an article floating around that claims the Senator had an affair right before the wedding.”

My heart stopped.

“What?”

“The Enquirer has photos of her entering a hotel room that did not belong to the campaign. The room was rented out by someone named M. Capuano.”

We made it to my office. I closed the door. “What does my wife’s team said?”

Megan grimaced. “That’s the thing. They said they aren’t worried about it. Rachel said that she spoke to the Senator and if questioned, they are going with no comment.”

I smiled. “That’s my girl. We’re saying the same thing, Megan. Thanks.” I turned to pick up my phone.

Megan scoffed. “There is no way we can go with no comment, Chris. They will tear her apart. You have to talk to her about. She’s just not bringing herself down but you as well.”

“I’ll talk to her. Give me five minutes.” Megan rolled her eyes and left my office as I called my wife. “Hello, my little Senator.”

“Hi handsome!” She was flushed from running for her phone. She was heartbreakingly beuatfiul, her cream colored blouse clung to her curves that I love and gave just the hint of clevage. “How were your discussions?”

“Really good, looks like the live numbers will be out highest yet.” I smirk. “Execpt for my last meeting.”

She frowned. “With who?”

“Megan. She wanted to bring attention to the fact that there is an article going aroung saying my wife is having an affair.”

YN gasped. “Chris, you know I would never...”

“I was nervous for just a second and then she told me the name the room was reserved under and it took everything in me not to laugh.”

She looked confused. “I don’t understand.”

“Sweetheart, remember when you had a swing in Virginia and I was able to see you and we kept it on the low.”

“Yes,” she dragged out.

“Well I couldn’t reserve the room under either of our names so my uncle helped me and reserve the room for me. M. Capuano. Uncle Mike.”

I watched as the realization clicked. “Oh my gosh, they think I am having an affair with M. Capuano but really I’m having an affair with my husband.”

I smirk as she laughs. “I don’t know what you are laughing at Senator. You’re having an affair.”

“I sure am. The man really is hard to resist. Dark gripable hair, a beard that feels so good on my skin. Bluest eyes I ever seen. He’s built and has those arms that can hold you to him all night long.”

“Fuck sweetheart, you can’t say stuff like when when I don’t have time right now.” I looked at my calendar on my computer. “I can be with you tomorrow morning and stay through the weekend.”

“I’m looking forward to it Mr. Affair.”

“I’m going to rock your world Mrs. Affair. I love you.”

“I love you more.”

YN POV

You’re nervous.

This day is always nerve-racking.

This isn’t your first one either.

And hopefully it isn’t your last.

Its election day.

While you hadn’t given up your senate seat yet, it was something you were willing to do if the right opportunity presented itself. Say, being the President of the United States.

But first, you needed to be elected there. You were back in California, awaiting for the results. Votes were being tally, the electoral college was making its decision and all you could do was wait.

Which is not the easiest thing to do.

Chris had been on the phone with his ASP team, checking results in major battleground states, counts on issues that were concerning to younger Americans. Every time he looked up to you, he would you a smile and mouth “i love you” to try and calm your nerves. Three years of this and he knew how to calm your nerves.

The campaign had been hard, a woman running against an older, backward thinking man. The scandal of the car photos came back into play but your opponents own philandering with a woman not his wife, nullified that right away. You had no secrets, other than your relationship with Chris. You were caareful to only show what you wanted to the public to know. Chris was or rather still is a famous movie star. He may have slowed down his films but he was never not working. ASP was his pride and joy, besides you, and it relected on how much the platform grew.

It was nearing 8pm in California and the states were starting to be called. Every political forecaster predicted this race to be the tightest its ever seen. No one expected you to receive the nomination. No one expected to make it this far. No one believe. Except Chris.

He believed in you.

You can feel him right behind you before he wraps his arms around you. “Did you ever imagine being here Senator?”

You shake your head. “I imagined a lot of things. I had dreams. But, to do this with you, now,” you look up at him, “I never imagined it like this.”

For hours, you and. your family stood around, watching results. Chris mentioned that you should rest but you were too keyed up to lie down or even sit down. Hour after hour passed and the race was down to the final couple of states. Then the news anchor interrupted the talking heads on the news.

“We are now prepared to make the call in Oregon. This evening has been historic in so many ways. But now we are ready to declare Oregon for...”

Clack.

Your heels clicked on the floor as you walked to your destiny. You assumed it would be hard, to run for president. To deal with the fall out. Your opponent had been cordial in his speech. He talked about uniting the country and not letting politics create a divide. He was right, the country had to come together now and move forward.

Chris POV

Watching my girl waiting to be taken to her seat for the ceremony, it was heart wrenching. She was so stoic and unnaturally quiet. She had on a beautiful red dress with white accents and her coat was the same blue as the american flag. She had been so brave through all of this. She kept her head up and was gracious. The embodiment of class. She just had one more thing to do before we could move forward.

“Are you ready, sweetheart?”

“I’m scared,” she whispered.

“Don’t be. I’m right here.” I took her hand and we were walked to our seats. The ceremony was beautiful in the cold January air. We listened to the poet laureate and the national anthem done by Taylor Swift. But then it was our cue, to do the part of the ceremony as instructed by the head of the inguration committee. I smiled as I held out the bible, open to her favorite passage.

I watched as my girl placed her hand on the bible and then raised her right hand.

I, YN YMN Evans, do solemnly swear that I will faithfully execute the Office of President of the United States, and will to the best of my Ability, preserve, protect and defend the Constitution of the United States. So help me God.”

The roar of the crowd sounded as she finished her oath. I leaned over to kiss my wife, my president. “Congratulation, madam President.”

“Ladies and Gentlemen, presenting the new President of the United States and new First Gentleman, YN and Chris Evans!”

Walking out to the inagural ball is surreal. This was our life now for the next four years. But I wouldn’t change it for the world. As Harry Styles sang Adore You for us again, I held my wife in my arms. “Did you count on this, madam President.”

She frowned for a second. “I don’t know if i like you callng me that. But no,” she smiled. “I was only counting on you.”

“You can always count on me, love. Count on it forever.”��

“Just as long as I’m still your forever.” She sighed as she leaned against me. “Still not sure about the madam president thing.”

“How about in public, you are madam President, but in private,” I spin her around and draw her close again, “you’ll always be my little senator.”

taglist

@patzammit

@texmexdarling

@slutforchrisjamalevans

@firephotogrl74

@tinkerbelle67

@before-we-get-started

@bunnyforhim

@alexakeyloveloki

@sunnyhummingbee

@whiskeytangofoxtrot555

@peaceinourtime82

@saucy-sassy-sparkly

@kmc1989

@kandis-mom

@lokislady82

#andy's shenanigans #andy's hea #chris evans #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans au #chris evans smut #can I mini series #can I count on forever #political au #asp #chris evans fic #chris evans x reader #Chris Evans x senator! reader #valentines day

75 notes · View notes

thegirlnextdoorssister · 2 years ago

Text

You can run but you can’t hide: Chapter 1: Soulmate

(Soft!Dark! Soulmate AU)

Summary: Lloyd Hansen had been told from a young age that he’ll one day find his other half. What they didn’t tell him was that not everyone was as excited as him to find their other half.

Soft!Dark!Lloyd Hansen x Reader

Warnings for the series: noncon/dubcon, rape? just to make sure, age gap, manipulation, sex used as punishment? edging? soft!dark! gonna give you whiplash, forced breeding, breeding kink, language, violence, blood, past abusive/toxic relationship

Warnings for this chapter: language, allusion to past toxic/abusive relationship

A/N: Buckle up, that’s all I have to say. This chapter is a short one.

As always MINORS DNI

Divider by @maysdigitalarts

18+ only and consent banners by @maysdigitalarts

Chapter 1: Soulmate

Soulmate.

What’s a soulmate?

Someone who you’re destined to be with. Someone who completes you. Bullshit. Complete and utter bullshit. I don’t need a soulmate to complete me or for them to control me. My mother was better off without one.

My mother’s soulmate, my father, they were in love-wait no, my mom was in love. She would have done anything for him and she did, she still wasn’t enough in his eyes.

Yeah, I wish never to meet my soulmate. I’ve seen firsthand what a soulmate can do to you, the person who’s supposed to “love and protect you”. What my parents had would never be love.

That’s why when I had the chance I fled and never looked back, now 5 years later, I’m happy as can be. I’m alone and happy.

I just have to move to a new town since I've been here for 7 months already. That's not what I normally do, usually, I stay for about 5 months and then on to the next town since it’s unlikely to meet your soulmate or anyone when you just go to 3 places-hotel, a job, a store. It’s been the perfect set-up for the past 5 years.

I don’t have much stuff, so that makes it easier to move from place to place. I’m still packing everything inside my car.

“Just you, me, and the open road”, I tapped the roof of my car after putting the last of my things inside. I never felt anything during any moves before but this time I felt my heart beating abnormally fast, fear maybe? but of what I don’t know.

Getting inside the car, I take a deep breath before starting the engine. What type of job would I find this time? bartender? waitress? A dog sitter? Hopefully my boss this time isn’t a perverted asshole, god just thinking about my time working at the retail store makes my skin crawl. I need to listen to some music.

The sound of Love Her Madly by The Doors playing filled the air in the car.

Don’t you love her madly?

Wanna be her daddy?

Don’t you love her face?

Don’t you love her as she walkin' out the door?

Like she did one thousand times before

I hope she got out of there alive, that is if his love hadn’t killed her already. He was the reason I left not her but that was the price to pay, either I stayed and get punished or run away and survive. I felt the cool air cares my skin as I rolled down my window. The smell of fresh air, sweet sweet freedom.

«5 hours later»

Welcome to Âme soeur

French, huh? That's weird, I had no idea that there were little French towns. I should look up the meaning of it. I should make a rest stop, I've been driving for hours and I feel like sleeping. So I guess Âme soeur it is. Now time to find a motel but it doesn’t look like there are any buildings close by. It looks completely abandoned. Ghostown. Spooky.

Ahh…finally a motel. Not the best looking but it's a motel what do you expect? Getting out of the car, the air felt different, heavy. After locking the car, I made my way to the front desk. A girl wearing the motel uniform sat at the front desk. She had charcoal-colored hair and the dullest blue I'd ever seen. A wall of room keys was behind her.

“Hello, do you have a room available?”, I asked. She just stared at me, like she was trying to figure me out.

“We just have one available”, she plainly said typing away on the computer. She truly looked like she’d rather be anywhere else. “Ok, I’ll take it”, I smiled. She turned to get my room key, and that's when I saw it, for a split sec, a mark on the back of her neck but she turned back just as quickly. Weird. She handed me the room key. As took the room key, she stayed silent. I left with a quick “bye”, I got to my car and opened the trunk to get my things out. I felt goosebumps on the back of my neck, and my bag fell from my hand as I touched the back of my neck. I looked around but shook it off and picked up my bag and the air felt somehow heavier than before. I looked for my room key to see the room number. My heart stopped.

Room 222.

join the series taglist

series masterlist

#soft!dark!lloyd hansen #soulmate au #honey writes #chris evans smut #chris evans fic #chris evans fanfiction #dark!soft!#soft!dark fic #you can run but you can’t hide mini series #llyod hansen #lloyd hansen x reader #lloyd hansen au #chris evans x reader #lloyd hansen fanfiction #lloyd hansen smut #lloyd hansen x female reader

331 notes · View notes

munstysmind · 10 months ago

Text

Steve Rogers is the love of your life, but there have been times all you’ve felt for him is hate. Five times to be exact.

WARNING/S: Language, fighting, medical terminology and procedures, exile, anxiety, nightmares, death. I think that's everything.

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION FOR MY WORK TO BE USED IN ANY CAPACITY

Divider by @firefly-graphics

MAIN MASTERLIST

please let me know if you would like to be added to a tag list

The First Time

The Second Time

The Third Time

The Fourth Time

The Fifth Time

TAGLIST: @aussieez @rookiemartin @babeyyemor @secretaryunpaid @pixie88 @chickensarentcheap @dhoruwolfie @themaradwrites @cali-nyc5 @darsynia @diamondoftheball @wewannasaygoodnight @sweetbunnyliddle @kingliam2019 @sillyrabbit81 @angelcavill66 @mis-lil-red @rcarbo1 @secretdream2 @identity2212 @fanfics-r-us-official @km-ffluv @dream-beyond-the-fantasy @ktficworld @juliaorplI78 @henry-cavs-tudor @red-write-hand @queenzee27 @kandis-mom

#munstysmind #the five times I hated you mini series #reader fic #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers #steve rogers fanfiction #marvel #marvel fanfiction #mcu #mcu fanfiction #chris evans #chris evans fanfiction

30 notes · View notes

cevansbrat0007 · 2 months ago

Note

I see that you are answering asks!! I have a question, for your Growing pains series, you had a snippet of part 3 of Lonely Hearts Club. Are you still planning on releasing it? Love all of your work!!

Hi friend! Yes, I am still planning on releasing it. I’ve just had a lot going on lately, which is why I haven’t been as active as I typically like to be on this hellsite.

Please stay tuned!

P.S. Thanks so much for all of your support! ❤️

#cevansbrat0007 asks #cevansbrat0007growing pains series #chris evans imagines #chris evans x black!reader #chris evans x reader #chris evans x woc!reader #andy barber imagines #andy barber x reader #Andy barber x black!reader #chris evans fanfiction #andy barber fanfiction #Andy barber x woc!reader #the lonely hearts club #mini series

4 notes · View notes

i-have-a-wonky-eye-too · 2 years ago

Text

Four weeks of fun!

Ransom and Beautiful spend four weeks together. Completely alone. No Harlan. No Linda. No Walt. No cares, no worries and preferably no clothes. Let's follow them on a mini adventure and see where things go. What plans has Ransom got up his sleeves?

This is going to be a mini series as part of Always Meant To Be... I'm taking Ransom Drysdale x reader requests based on the two going on vacation to Italy and Vegas. If you have any ideas, please feel free to ask!!

Tags: @hawkeyes-queen @boringandbored @lewisroscoelove @fangirlfree @am-i-rite-ladies @calimoi @wintasssoldier @gh0stgurl @chrisevanseagletattoo @hcaldwell016 @coffeebooksandfandom @tenaciousperfectionunknown @talesofadragon @sebsgirl71479 @summersong69 @montycantsin-blog @moonlover-tobefree @hereforthemarvelidiots @mischiefmanaged21 @yiiiikesmish @marigoldreamer @like45 @shoegal73 @hufflepufftruffle @buckybarnessimpp @imaginelover88 @thorinsmistress13 @fuckyouwithkindness @angelmather1 @aprilspage @g-c-e @shamalamadingdong @stillthatbetch @evieshifts777 @dontbescaredtosingalong

LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANT TO BE ADDED TO THE TAGLIST OR SET YOUR NOTIFICATIONS ON!

#chris evans #Ransom Drysdale #Ransom Drysdale x reader #Ransom Drysdale x beautiful #Ransom Drysdale x you #Ransom Drysdale x y/n #Always Meant To Be...#Four weeks of fun!#Ransom Drysdale mini series

23 notes · View notes

banapsha · 1 year ago

Text

Defending Jacob- TV Show Review

The ending will make you go nuts. It made me go nuts. I am nuts thinking about it. Ok, that came out wrong. Just watch it for yourself.

Defending Jacob is a TV show that hit the screens in 2020, and let me tell you, it's a gripping rollercoaster ride that will keep your mind running. This enthralling legal drama delves into the complexities of family, loyalty, and the lengths we go to protect our loved ones.

The story revolves around the Barber family, whose lives are turned upside down when their teenage son, Jacob, becomes the prime suspect in a murder investigation. As the evidence piles up and the community turns against them, Andy Barber, Jacob's father, and a respected assistant district attorney, must navigate the treacherous waters of the legal system to prove his son's innocence.

What sets Defending Jacob apart is its ability to create an atmosphere of suspense and ambiguity. With each episode, new twists and revelations emerge, keeping you guessing and questioning the truth. The writing is razor-sharp, with well-developed characters and morally complex situations that explore the gray areas of justice and the lengths we go to protect our own.

The performances in this show are nothing short of exceptional. Chris Evans delivers a standout performance as Andy Barber, portraying the character's internal struggle and desperation with raw intensity. His nuanced portrayal allows us to empathize with a man torn between his duty as a prosecutor and his unwavering belief in his son's innocence. Michelle Dockery as Laurie Barber, Andy's wife, adds a layer of emotional depth to the story, grappling with the weight of doubt and the toll it takes on their family. And well, Jaeden Martell portrays Jacob so beautifully, you can feel every ounce of fear or doubt or annoyance Jacob feels.

Visually, Defending Jacob captures the somber and tense atmosphere of a small town engulfed in scandal. The cinematography is moody and atmospheric, reflecting the characters' internal turmoil. The show effectively uses flashbacks to delve into the past and shed light on the present, building suspense and deepening our understanding of the complex web of secrets that surround the case.

What makes Defending Jacob truly captivating is its exploration of the devastating impact of suspicion on a family. It delves into the depths of parental love and the lengths one can go to protect their child, even when faced with doubt. The moral dilemmas posed throughout the series will make you question your own beliefs and judgments, leaving a lasting impact.

In conclusion, Defending Jacob is a must-watch for fans of legal dramas and psychological thrillers. Its suspenseful plot, outstanding performances, and thought-provoking themes make it a standout show that will leave you pondering the nature of justice and the complexity of familial bonds. Prepare to be enthralled by this captivating journey into the heart of a family fighting for their own.

#cinemetography #act #acting #film #movie #tv series #tv show #mini series #chris evans #michelle dockery #jaeden martell #must watch #what to watch #apple tv series #tv show review #tv show recommendations

4 notes · View notes

hiddenwritingsintheworld · 6 months ago

Text

Midnight Rain Ch. 3

Rich Mans World Series | Man After Midnight Series | Chapter 2 | Donations | Thoughts & Feelings

“It’s nice to meet you Steve,” you shook his hand before furrowing your brows. “Steve Rogers….I know that name….did you grow up around here?” you asked before smiling. “Im Y/N Y/L/N ...oh well Y/N Evans now…um, well….” you held a confused face before smiling. “It's complicated…” he grinned and nodded. “I did, I know your father, we actually grew up together, well kinda, I mean when we were younger we played together.” he smiled. You laughed a little, “Yeah, that's right you were scrawny,” he chuckled and nodded, a tint of red covering his cheeks, “sounds like I made an impression on you then.” You smiled and nodded, “You were pretty nice, how's life been treating you?” you asked as he shrugged, “alright, I uh, broke up with my girlfriend about a year ago, moved back here to start over in a more comfortable setting.” you nodded as he reached into his pocket. “You should call me sometime, we could go get coffee together, catch up,” he handed you a card.

You gently took it, before you could even realize what you were doing or saying you nodded, “Yeah, that sounds great actually.” you smiled softly as he grinned. “Great! Hey, I gotta head out but I’ll talk to you soon yeah?” you nodded “yeah, it was great seeing you,” you smiled as he leant down and pecked your cheek before winking at you and walking away. You watched him go, staring over every inch of him. “What the fuck was that?” Brooke asked, causing you to jump and look at her. “Brooke, Jesus you scared me…” you said, taking a breath before she started in. “So this morning, you’re cuddled up in bed with your husband and now this afternoon you’re getting kissed by men in a store?!” You glared at her. “I grew up with Steve, he’s an old friend.” you walked up tossing your basket into her cart, “and lets not forget what my “husband” did to me. Had he not been out screwing anything with two legs and a pussy, maybe my baby wouldn’t have died because my husband would have been there to protect me and her.” you glared at Brooke, something in you this morning had just...clicked back in place. Maybe it was Chris, maybe it was seeing him treating you so delicately, you didn’t know, but that mourning and grieving stage was over, you’d officially moved on to the anger stage of your grief.

See, that’s the thing about grief…there's 5 stages to it. Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression, and Acceptance. Everyone plays it off as if these 5 stages happen to you in some certain order. Like “oh! I’ve moved on from depression! Now I'm in acceptance.” But for you, that wasn’t the case. Your first stage was acceptance. When you woke up in the hospital you accepted what had happened to you and your baby. You knew it was some evil son of a bitch who was probably after Chris and wanted to hurt him. Your first stop would be the Irish, seeing how they wanted to ensure Chris felt some kind of pain for how Tristan was done. Your second stage was depression, you remained depressed for months and even now, you knew you were officially in the anger stage.

You turned, walking away from her and heading out of the store toward the car, Brooke watched after you, concern filling her features. What was going on with you? This sudden change in you had her nervous, were you diving off the official deep end?

You stood out by the car, pulling your phone out and dialing the number off Steve's card, “Hey! It’s Y/N, I was going to see if you wanted to get coffee tomorrow? If so, just either text or call me and we can set up a time.” you smiled and ended the call leaving him a voicemail. You looked around, watching people walk around the parking lot, coming and going to the store, you sighed. All you had wanted was a normal, simple life. You knew being with a mobster would never, ever, be a normal life, but you had hoped with Chris everything would be different.

Brooke came out a few minutes later and began to load the bags into the car. You held your hand out after helping her. She looked at you, raising an eyebrow. “What?” She asked with a slight attitude. “Keys.” you said, staring at her. “What? No, this is my car!” she looked shocked you’d even asked. You however, raised an eyebrow. “I’m sorry, whose car is this?” you asked, narrowing your eyes. Brooke cleared her throat, “Sorry it's technically your car, but I’ve been driving it for so long now it just feels like my car, but I think you shouldn’t drive yet.” she said as you shook your head. “Sorry Brooke, I’m back, now give me my keys so we can get our asses back to work.” she stared at you nervously as she handed you the keys.

Chris sat at the kitchen island, drinking a cup of coffee and wondering what switched in you, suddenly you were ready to get up and go to the store? Bucky had explained that since you’d come back to their apartment you hadn’t done anything regarding leaving the house. He wondered if you were feeling more like yourself since the two of you had reconnected on some level. He smiled softly, hoping to hear from you today. Maybe he’d invite you out for dinner one night this week. He’d have to see when he had a free night, he had several new clubs opening and needed to make an appearance at them.

Chris was beginning to have some hope that, maybe one day you’d be back in his arms, living here at home with him again. You’d be allowed to properly mourn the loss of your child and he’d be there to comfort you, while also mourning himself. He didn’t understand who would have done such a horrid thing. He called Anthony and Sebastian, telling them he wanted to meet with them whenever they were free that day. He began planning a security detail to watch over you. He then wanted to start looking into each and every person that had come into contact with the two of you since you’d married him.

Chris smiled to himself, so maybe you didn’t want to get divorced after all, maybe now you two would be a family again. He would find who had hurt you, who had hurt your baby, his sweet little girl, and he would make them pay. He would remind the world of who he was, what he was capable of. He would burn the entire world to the ground if that meant you would come back to him. All he wanted was for you to come back home.

You drove around, taking calls, making stops. Brooke was texting Sebastian, telling him every move you were making. “That’s fine, I can work with that. Tell him I want to meet face to face. I dont give a shit if he’s busy! I’m trying to find out who murdered my child!” you yelled. “Now text me with the god damn details or your head is next on my fucking platter!” you hung up the phone throwing it in the backseat with anger. “Maybe we should head home now Y/N, Sebastian wants to start on dinner and plus, it was a big day! You got back to your old self, maybe a nice hot bubble bath and a glass of wine? Sounds pretty good huh? And, we can even get into work mode for tomorrow.” Brooke said as you huffed. “Relax Brooke, I’m not crazy, I’ve just realized it's time to get back to work and get this shit figured out.” you said, glancing at her. Your phone buzzed in the back seat as you headed back toward Brooke and Sebastian's place.

Steve had texted you, telling you he was absolutely free to meet for coffee, and he wanted to meet up with you at 11am, which worked out perfect for you because you could get your life back on track. You stood in your bedroom staring at the sight before you. You began packing up boxes, labeling them as donations or keep before moving down the hallway to the door that hadn’t been opened in months.

You opened the door, revealing the stuffy and slightly dusty light pink nursery; boxes sat unmade against the wall with packing tape and bubble wrap sitting in front of them. You looked at the dresser, the small pink urn sat in the middle. You purse your lips looking around before taking a deep breath and stepping inside, closing the door gently behind you. It was time you started healing, and this was the first step.

Tag List:

@notebooks-of-nonsense @fdl305 @bval-1 @calimoi @syntheticavenger @mrsjenniferwinchester @chaneajoyyy @mommad @ellen-reincarnated1967 @adriellej @coffeebooksandfandom @patzammit @posiemax @auriel187 @ladybug05 @stoneyggirl2 @fallenoutofrose @mrspeacem1nusone @teamfreewill-imagine @inlovewith3 @auvisanspeur @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @leaveitbythewave @sleutherclaw @sandlee44 @aaqua-tofana @nohumanswereharmed @msgrandma49 @traceyaudette @cevansbaby-dove

52 notes · View notes

buckyownsmylife · 8 months ago

Text

out of the woods (chris evans x famous!reader smut)

the one where Chris watches an interview of you on the Ellen show

Warnings: mention of small stature in comparison to Chris, smut thoughts, Ellen Degeneres trash talking/thinking, cursing, mention of prescription medicine, talk of age gap (reader is younger than Chris), jacking off, daddy kink

WC: 3k

A/N: this doesn't really have an ending, so if you all like it, I might make a series out of it - the idea is that you are also famous (for acting, singing, writing) and have been friends with Chris but there's always this underlying tension between the two of you. It goes without saying, but I'll say it anyway: no, he's not married in this story nor do I intend to feature Alba in any part of it whatsoever.

Chris’ P.O.V.

I was scrolling through Twitter when I realized some fans were tagging me in a short video of Y/N on Ellen DeGeneres’ show. I knew she had gone there by herself, mostly to promote her new album, but also to give some publicity for our movie, so I was aware that she would probably talk about me at least a bit… Curiosity got the best of me and I clicked the link to check the video for myself.

She looked gorgeous as always, her hair down in that way I loved so much and her skin seemed to be as soft as ever under the mini dress she chose to wear, her legs stretching out and making her look taller than she actually was. I chuckled, remembering just how small she looked by my side.

I remembered one time when I lifted her up, bridal style, and spun her around the pub we had close to the set, after the Patriots had won a game. Despite not understanding the game, she tagged along and celebrated every time I got excited, like the cute person that she was. I got so transfixed by her giggles back then. They were the sweetest sound and the only thing I heard, despite the fact that we were in the middle of a very loud bunch of dudes.

I found myself imagining again, as I had then, what it would be like to have her under me, trapped by my arms in bed, or better yet, against a wall, only my thighs securing her in place while I made her moan with my touch. How would she sound? Or, better yet, how would she feel?

Christ.

Shaking my head, I tried to gather my thoughts so as to not let them stray too far in that direction, something I didn’t have much success in doing, despite the fact that I had been practicing that simple habit every single day since I met her. But it was proving to be a nightmare. She was just far too tempting.

Shaking my head once more, I focused on the video in front of me. My heartbeat had sped up as soon as it started, but I tried to tell myself it was because I was scared for her, since I knew how Ellen could get invasive sometimes.

“So, Y/N…” She started, eyeing my co-star. “You have just finished working on a movie with someone we’re very familiar with, isn’t it?”

Y/N giggled, nodding at the blonde woman. “I suppose so. We have just finished the promotion for it, maybe you guys have already seen it?” She asked the crowd, who went nuts at her. It was sweet to see this kind of feedback, I truly believed in our movie and the fact that I got to know her was just an added bonus.

“For those of you who don’t know what we’re talking about, it’s called ‘Be Here Now’ and it’s currently in a theater near you. Y/N stars alongside Chris Evans, who we love so dearly here, and they play brother and sister as they try to reconnect after their parents' passing.”

More applause at that. I couldn’t stop myself from rolling my eyes at her idea of love. Last time I was there, she made me pretty uncomfortable, and I knew I wasn’t the only one who felt that way.

“So, how was the process for you? We know you’re familiar with the filming process, since you star in your own series ‘Evermore’, that sent you to stardom, along with your songs, but you had said before you’d never act outside of it, since your true passion relies on music. What changed your mind?” Ellen sat back as she said that, already comfortable with the fact that something good would come out of this interview, since Y/N had been pretty vocal about what made her decide to do the movie, even with me.

“Chris did, actually. Or, in fact, the fact that he was cast in it.” A chorus of “aws” echoed around the room and there was no way to know if they were real or prompted, but they were quickly interrupted by the host.

“So, you were a fan?” She instigated, as to what Y/N nodded again.

“Of course. Well, my mom more than me, but I was the one who introduced his work to her, so…” She poked her tongue out at the camera, to which my heart (and my cock) jumped in response. “Ever since I got into this, when I first had the idea for Evermore with James, I told him time and time again I would never act outside of this, because I had no intention whatsoever on becoming an actress. I have always been in this for the music. Well, the writing. I’m a writer, I like writing scripts and songs, I’ve fallen into this performer thing by accident. But I’ve always been adamant about the fact that if I ever had the opportunity to act alongside Chris, I’d take it. It doesn’t matter that I don’t think I’m good enough. It didn’t even matter if the script was terrible, which thankfully wasn’t the case, I just really admire him and his work and I would never live with myself if I turned this opportunity down.”

Even though I knew most of this, I couldn’t help but to gloat at the fact that this incredible woman actually admired me. She was so much better than me in so many things, even acting, and she still thought I was great enough to get her to participate in a movie.

“So, what I’m hearing is, you have a little crush, that’s right?” And there it was. The coup. Of course. That evil wench…

“That’s what you took out of everything I said? Jesus, Ellen, has anyone ever told you that you listen like a man?” Ouch. That one was perfect. Being the ambassador for females and lesbians everywhere, it couldn’t not hurt her, especially coming from someone as angelical, sweet and universally-loved as Y/N. I appreciated the quick second her smile faltered before it became plastered on her again.

“No, I haven’t heard that before… But tell me, have you met any of the other Marvel actors? I mean, granted, there are a lot of them now, but especially those who have worked closely with Chris?” Y/N shrugged at that.

“I have been friends with Elizabeth Olsen for a very long time, we’re very close, but other than that, no. I haven’t had the chance to properly meet, or rather, hang out with any of them.”

“Who’s first on your list?”

“Anthony Mackie,” Y/N promptly responded, getting a few laughs and claps from the audience.

“My, you had that answer ready” Ellen teased, to which Y/N simply shrugged again.

“We talk through social media sometimes and I know for a fact he’s hilarious. I hope we get to meet sometime. I might just have to bug Chris about it.” She had already, in fact. I couldn’t wait to introduce them to each other and I was already planning my next party just to be able to make that happen.

“What about Sebastian?” Ellen asked, a glinter of something extremely suspicious in her eyes.

“Sebastian Stan? No, we haven’t met, but I’d love to get the chance to someday. He seems extremely sweet and I know he’s very talented and Chris loves him, so I think it’s a matter of time until it happens.”

“I heard somewhere you had a bit of a crush on him, right? Even if you don’t admit that you have one on Chris?” This fucking woman. I could fucking kill her right now. But, to my surprise, Y/N simply laughed.

“Truly, you have got to check your hearing sometime soon, because that is absolutely false.”

“Really?” Ellen pushed, to which Y/N beamed even brighter at her.

“Positive.” A beat as the two women stared at each other down. “I think what you meant is that I have had a huge crush on his character, Bucky Barnes.” Y/N explained, laughing at the host. “I admit that only happened after I saw Sebastian’s portrayal of him, but my attraction to a fictional character can’t be really connected to him.”

Ellen nodded, obviously not paying attention to anything she was just saying. “Well, let’s figure out who do you actually feel attracted to, shall we? Let’s play fuck, marry or kill!”

The audience screamed and, to my surprise, Y/N didn’t even blink, a patient smile painting her lips as she calmly watched the interviewer. “So, Y/N, between Anthony, Sebastian and Chris, who would you rather fuck, marry or kill?”

Y/N shook her head, still smiling at the older woman. “I couldn’t possibly answer truthfully to this question, Ellen, mostly because I am not capable of feeling carnal attraction to people I have never met, but I can 100% assure you that I would marry Chris without blinking twice if there was a choice.”

My heart skipped a beat at her words. The crowd went crazy, obviously satisfied with the answer.

“And you’re sure you don’t have a crush on him?” Ellen’s eyes glistened with mischief, as she stared at the younger woman.

“Ellen, I think the question here is… Are you sure *you don’t have a crush on him?” The laughs from the audience was the last thing to come from the video before it stopped, and I found myself echoing them in the silent living room. Oh my, how I missed this girl.

I tapped my fingers nervously on my jean-clad thigh, looking around the room. I had been staying in Boston with my family for the last few weeks, since the movie premiered and we had finished promotion, and I had found myself constantly calling her to share funny stories from my nephews or to hear about her day. I knew she wanted to meet my family, she had always said she admired the fact that we were so close, despite there being so many of us.

My mom obviously loved her, having been a fan of hers long before I even heard about her existence. So what if…?

Before I could second-guess myself, I pressed call in the name of the woman I had been thinking about. The phone rang three times before she picked up, stopping me from giving up on this crazy idea.

“Hey, Chris! How are you? I missed talking to you, it’s so weird seeing you everyday for four months and then suddenly not at all anymore.” I know I was literally forty, but I literally melted at this girl’s words.

“Did you now? Is that because you wish we were married, so we could see each other everyday?” Her breath hitched as she realized I had seen the video and I could just imagine the cute little embarrassed expression she was probably sporting right now. I tried to ignore the fact that my words and tone of speaking had suddenly become way too similar to when I was flirting with a girl.

“Fuck, you saw the interview.” I had never heard Y/N curse before, so the fact that I suddenly had no control over my mouth could be explained by the unavailability of blood in my head, since it had all gone south.

“Come stay with me for a while,” I spilled suddenly. Silence was the only answer I got from the other side of the call and my heart sped up in a way that only happened when I was truly anxious. I was already cursing myself out for scaring the poor girl when she finally answered.

“Are you serious?” She asked, her voice barely over a whisper. It was obvious how vulnerable she was feeling, and a sense of overprotectiveness overcame me. “Please don’t joke about this, Evans. This better not be a prank. ‘Cause I really do miss you a lot.”

Fuck indeed. There was no way something good would come out of this idea, but there was no way I would go back either.

“Of course I’m being serious. Come to Boston. You can stay with me, but I think my mom is going to steal you before you even settle in.” A large breath came from the other side.

“Okay. Okay! I’m going to pack my bags. Yay! I’m so excited!” She was clearly jumping up and down with the perspective of what was to come, and I couldn’t help the smile that painted my lips not only at her cuteness, but also due to my own excitement at her arrival.

“Great! I’ll be waiting.” My heartbeat still hadn’t gotten back to a normal speed. “Text me the details of your arrival, I’ll pick you up at the airport.”

“Chris, I don’t think that’s such a good idea…” I knew what she meant. If someone caught sight of us together at the airport, or even the fact that she was here in Boston, all hell would break loose in the press.

“Shhh, don’t worry about it, baby girl. I’ll take care of it.” I froze, only then realizing what I had just called her. A few seconds ticked by while I silently freaked out, wondering how I could brush this over, when she intervened.

“Thanks, Chris. That was pretty much the best thing I’ve ever heard. I just might forgo my prescription medicine while I’m over there, because you’ve been able to completely relax me with just two sentences.” She giggled and if I was at first leaning towards thinking she was sarcastically teasing me, just by the nature of her words, the tone of her voice made it clear that she actually meant what she had just said.

Once again, I was at a loss for words, especially because I couldn’t help but to allow myself to imagine that this was her, flirting with me a little bit. The blood I so desperately needed in my brain had once again left to pump another organ full of life. I was saved from having to answer, though, as Y/N quickly wrapped up the conversation.

“I’ll text you the details of my flight in a little bit. See you soon, angel.” She hung up before I could process the nickname she had given me.

“Fucking hell,” I whispered, finally relenting and getting up from the couch to take a shower to rub one off.

I had found myself in this situation more times than usual after meeting Y/N. Normally, I’d only do it out of boredom, preferring to fuck someone whenever I’d get sexually frustrated. But the last few times I had taken girls from parties into my bedroom, I could only see her. Y/N. And I hated how disgusting I felt after it was done, the fact that I didn’t care about the girl I just fucked and the fact that I imagined my younger friend.

So now I resorted to this kind of activity. As the warm water started to hit my body, I allowed my right hand to travel the extent of my body until I found my hardened member. “Fuck,” I found myself whispering into the bathroom as I tugged on my cock. Images that I had spent a lot of time concocting in my head flashed in front of me, all of them starred by Y/N.

I imagined her nude body here with me, under the falling water. How her breasts would heave with every breath she took. Would she be as filled with desire for me as I was for her? I imagined the path the warm droplets of water would run across her skin and how I wished I could lick its remnants.

Maybe she’d fall to her knees before me, looking up from under her eyelashes with that coy expression that drove me crazy. Her lips would softly kiss the tip of my cock and she’d still be watching me, analyzing my reactions. I would do my best to restrain myself, allowing her to get accustomed to my member, but my hands would eventually find their way to her wet strands, creating a makeshift ponytail that would facilitate my vision of her work while I still managed to control myself and not use it to guide her.

She’d kiss the skin all around my cock, quick little kisses just to tease me before going further down to suck on my balls. I’d throw my head back, begging her to do what I needed, and she’d finally succumb, wrapping her lips around my tip before slowly sucking further down my dick. She’d be relentless, eventually being able to swallow my whole member down her throat, and I would look down again to see her looking up at me with a proud gaze in her eyes.

“Such a good girl,” I would whisper, just before I finally snapped, using my grip on her hair to pull her from my cock until just the tip remained tightly squeezed by her lips, until I pushed her all the way against me again. “Take this fucking cock like the little perfect girl you are for daddy.”

And she’d take it like a pro, a satisfied smile on her lips as I fucked her mouth, eventually breaching into her throat, making her gasp for air, tears in her eyes as her hands flew to my hips in an attempt to slow me down. But she wouldn’t really, opting for simply carving her nails on my flesh as she took every single rope of cum I’d deposit between her eager lips.

Fuck. I let the water wash away the sin I had just committed while sending up a prayer for better control when Y/N arrived. The last thing I needed was to be stuck in the bathroom, touching myself while she was at my house.

#my fics #chris evans smut #chris evans #smut #rpf #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans x reader

533 notes · View notes

andydrysdalerogers · 2 years ago

Note

Hi I was wondering if you are taking requests if so is it possible if you could do anoter part to Can I count on your Vote; Can I count on your love where they are planning for their wedding and then the day of their wedding as well as their wedding night and honeymoon to which leads to senator getting pregnant and the journey of the pregnancy and the birth, then bringing baby (girl) home with smut and fluff 💖

I wasn’t planning on it…

But a new tab is being started with a WIP for this 😉

#andy replies #count on mini series #new hashtag for series #chris evans #andy's shenanigans #andy's hea #chris evans fanfiction

1 note · View note

megalony · 9 months ago

Text

Pregnancy Pains- Part 2

As so many of you asked and requested, I've written another part to my Eddie Diaz imagine/ mini series. Let me know what you think, I hope you will all like the angst that follows.

Taglist: @justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyjen @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @classyunknownlover @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz @dumb-fawkin-bitch @oliverstarksbae @gimatida @heart-35 @supernaturalstilinski @stefansalvatoresgf @kyky9103 @wutheringhearts2275 @gay4hotmilfs @itshamleth @chaoticnosleepinfluencer @gs29 @wh0reforsmutstuff @mel-vaz @natashamea18 @chrisevansdaughter @alexandra8484 @deena-beena-weena @targaryenluvs @shelbygeek @kpoplover-19 @marvelmenarebeautiful @gillybear17

Eddie Diaz Masterlist

Bedroom Talk

Part 1

Summary: (Y/n) and Eddie's second pregnancy is far from simple and it seems that everything which can go wrong, does go wrong. Especially when it comes to giving birth.

Enjoy.

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

"Oh, hello."

A surprised, somewhat bewildered smile took over Eddie's face when he walked into the living room and took in the sight in front of him.

He wasn't expecting Evan to be round when he came home from his night shift. Eddie leaned over and folded his arms over the back of the armchair as his eyes watched the pair of them. Evan and Chris were in the middle of a game, one which Chris appeared to be winning.

Evan had learned by now that Chris was both a very good player and also a bad loser. If he didn't win at least eight percent of the time, he would get very stroppy or go off in a silent mood. So whenever Evan came round, he tried to win one game and make sure he lost the rest, even if it was just by two points. He made sure Chris won.

"Hey," A grin broke out on Evan's face despite the way he tossed the remote down on the coffee table and slouched back into the sofa. He folded his arms over his chest in a gruff while Chris cheered. He had won again.

"Having fun?"

"He's beat me twice now, I'm not enjoying this." Evan joked softly and nudged Chris with his elbow before he looked back over at Eddie. "Thought I'd come and keep him entertained for you."

"Where's (Y/n)?" Eddie was more than grateful that Evan kept popping by recently. He took Chris out to the zoo, picked him up from school if (Y/n) didn't feel well enough and he kept them both company when Eddie went to work and (Y/n) got fed up of bed rest.

"Power nap, she didn't feel well." He pointed over his shoulder towards the hall before he picked the remote up again, ready for another round. It was nothing new that (Y/n) didn't feel well. Evan had been nervous at first with how badly (Y/n) felt and how sick she was, but he calmed down when Eddie told him it was sadly their new normality for now.

"Why don't you make it interesting, loser makes dinner." Eddie walked behind the sofa and patted Evan's shoulder while he leaned and kissed the top of Chris's head. He already knew that Evan would be staying for dinner. It was the least they could do, offer for him to stay when he was keeping everyone company and trying to help them out.

Plus, he was round at least twice a week to have dinner with them when he and Eddie weren't at work.

Eddie left them to it when they started the next round and he trailed down the hallway, dragging his feet behind him as he aimed for the bedroom. He wouldn't go in if (Y/n) was asleep, he didn't want to disturb or wake her, but if she was awake then he would sit with her for a while.

He quietly opened the door and poked his head round and surprise flooded his face when he looked to see the bedroom light was on and (Y/n) wasn't, in fact, in bed.

"Hi baby… what're you up to?" He looked like he had just interrupted her when she was getting dressed.

(Y/n) was sat on the end of the bed, wearing a bra, a dark grey vest top which happened to be Eddie's. And she was just pulling the hem of one of his pair of joggers tight around her hips.

He advanced over to her and moved to stand between her legs with both his hands planted down on her thighs. But (Y/n) took him by surprise when she cupped the back of his neck and pulled him down to her level, stealing a sudden and rather deep kiss from his lips.

Eddie's lips curved into a grin when they parted and he tipped his forehead down against hers, breathing softly against her lips to catch his breath back.

"What was that for?"

He stayed still and watched as (Y/n) moved her hands to hold both his wrists, but he was intrigued and a little confused when she leaned forward. She buried her face in the side of his neck. He felt her holding her breath and the way she tensed in front of him. But when he moved one of their entwined hands to cup her chin and tilt her head up, she managed another sugary sweet smile at him that made his heart flutter.

"Contractions are happening… we can go soon."

A quiet laugh rumbled deep in Eddie's chest and he stole another kiss from her lips before his hand moved down to cradle her stomach.

So that was why she was suddenly so happy and up moving about. She was overjoyed to finally feel the contractions and know that in a day or so, this would all be over. They would have a baby in their arms and (Y/n) would no longer have to feel so sick and drained and unwell. No more bed rest after today.

"Hm, that's why you're so happy, is it?" He pecked her lips again and pressed his forehead down against hers. "I'd better go and ask Buck if he can babysit for us tonight then."

Eddie moved his hands around to (Y/n)'s hips when she let go of his wrists to hold his shoulders. He got her silent message and slowly helped her up to her feet. (Y/n) wanted to get ready. She wanted to get the hospital bag out and check it and go get her shoes and be ready. She wanted to explain things to Chris and see who was looking after him and make sure he was ready to be without them for the night.

"Oh!" Her hands tightened around Eddie's biceps just when he went to pull away from her. His lips parted and her head tilted down as Eddie squeezed her hips and looked down at her.

Her water had broken.

"I just got changed," (Y/n) sighed and pressed her temple against Eddie's sternum. She felt the vibrations as he laughed and leaned down to kiss the top of her head.

"I guess she's finally ready to meet us."

***

(Y/n) closed her eyes and tilted her head forward onto her arm. She could feel her fingers creating a bruising grip on the rail at the end of the bed while her left hand was deadlocked around Eddie's hand. She could feel his other hand on her lower back, running smooth circles up and down her back where the pain was radiating.

She couldn't stand up straight any more. Every time she straightened up it was like a cord snapped and she had to double over to reduce the pain.

"At least this is q-quicker than with Chris." She couldn't bring herself to lift her head up or even open her eyes so she gave a small tug on Eddie's hand.

"A few more hours and we'll have a baby girl." He murmured in response, pressing his lips to the back of her head.

It had been a two-day labour with Chris and the waiting and the agonising pain had drained them both. At least this time it seemed to be moving much quicker. (Y/n) had been frightened when the nurse said she might need a C-section, depending on whether or not the placenta moved when she went into labour.

But the scan showed it had stayed where it was and everything looked fine to have a natural birth again.

A deep groan burned at the back of (Y/n)'s throat and she bent her knees forward, hunkering down until she was almost knelt down on the floor. She felt Eddie's hand move from her back to circle around her waist. He held her up against his chest and moulded his chest over her back, preventing her from going down on the floor. Or else he didn't think they would ever get her back up again.

"Things look to be moving swiftly in here." Claire, their midwife, poked her head around the door and smiled at the couple when Eddie tilted his head to look in her direction. "Shall we take a look at you?"

(Y/n) tried to nod but she gave a sharp tug on Eddie's hand and cried out when another contraction tore through her stomach. Her knees bent again and she looked like she was about to fall down to the floor if it weren't for both Eddie's arms that swooped around her.

"Okay, shhh, I got you." Eddie pressed his lips to the back of (Y/n)'s head and kept hold of her hips while he slowly pulled her up and tried to get her to move. Both her hands latched around his left arm that was over her chest and she dug her nails into his exposed arm, pulling it closer. She let Eddie guide her round the side of the bed.

His hands moved to her hips and he carefully turned her around and eased her down on the bed she had barely touched since they came in here.

The moment Eddie sat down on the chair and pulled it as close to the bed as he could, (Y/n) reached out for his hand again. She smiled faintly when Eddie brought her hand up to his lips and kissed up and down her wrist and the back of her hand. His other hand rubbed up and down her arm while he inched the chair closer until his knees bumped into the bedframe.

"Let's just check baby, shall we?" Claire leaned over and moved to press her hands to (Y/n)'s stomach. Their girl had been constantly wriggling around since labour started but last time she checked, baby had been facing the right way with their head down.

"Is she okay?" It was the only question (Y/n) kept asking. Nothing in this pregnancy had gone right from the beginning and they came close to losing their girl too many times. (Y/n) almost miscarried when she was severely dehydrated and then again when she had the placental abruption. She didn't want things to go wrong now.

"Heartbeat is good, but I'm afraid she's turned round. She's going to be breach, which makes things a bit more difficult for you."

(Y/n) slumped her chin down onto her chest as her shoulders started to shake and within seconds, tears were rolling down her cheeks.

Why was she doing this to her? Was this the baby's fault, or was it (Y/n)'s? Had she done something wrong during this whole pregnancy?

Collapsing, dehydrated, losing weight instead of putting any on. Having the placenta move and having a large haemorrhage wasn't enough, now the baby had turned round. She had been facing the right way when they arrived. When (Y/n) was first examined they said the baby's head was in the right position facing downwards.

Why had she turned around?

"Baby, hey it's okay. You can still do this." Eddie moved his free hand to the back of (Y/n)'s head as he leaned down to kiss her temple. He let her lean her head into his chest and sob into his shirt. She would still do this, it would just be more of an uphill battle.

"I think you're ready now." Claire rubbed her hand up and down (Y/n)'s ankle to try and calm her down and gain her attention.

"Let's have our girl, hm? Then our family's complete." Eddie pressed another kiss to the back of (Y/n)'s hand before he sat up straighter and leaned closer. He moved his arm closer to (Y/n) so she could pin it to her chest while her other hand held the bed rail.

"Big pushes (Y/n)."

She tucked her chin down into her chest and closed her eyes as tightly as she could. She could feel her knees shaking when she pulled them up and she tried to sit forward, but it felt like her stomach was being wrenched in half.

She pulled Eddie's hand up until she could press it higher to her chest and she bit back the urge to be sick. She hadn't eaten anything since she went into labour and she had nothing left to throw up, no matter what her stomach was trying to tell her.

"Again… and we've got the legs. Take a breather, try to relax for a moment."

(Y/n) wanted to smile. She really did, but she was too torn up to smile when she didn't have any energy left and she wasn't even finished yet.

She had waited nearly nine months for this moment to come and be over and done with. She had been sick, collapsed, passed out, carried into hospital and put on bed rest. All leading up to this so she could have their little girl and finally try and get her health back on track. (Y/n) wanted this baby out. She was ready to have their daughter in her arms and stop feeling so sick so she could get back to being a wife and mother.

She could feel Eddie's free hand move to tangle his fingers into her hair. He kept brushing it back in a methodical way that made her want to fall asleep. If only she could.

"Let's keep pushing."

"You're almost done baby," Eddie leaned over and nudged his nose against (Y/n)'s neck. He smiled against her skin and pressed wet, open-mouthed kisses on her skin to try and distract her and keep her calm.

Tears traced down (Y/n)'s face and she felt like she was on fire when she heard the midwife say that the arms were out. It hurt even worse when she felt the shoulders being born. She was almost there but she felt like she was out of energy now. Her last reserves were running on empty.

"I- I can't." She shook her head against Eddie and sucked her lip between her teeth. Couldn't she stop now? Couldn't it all be over and done with now?

"Yes you can, because you're so brave."

"(Y/n), you need to push now. We don't want baby waiting too long in case they try to breathe. Big pushes." Claire's tone was gentle but her words were coaxing and stern. Being breach put the risk of the baby trying to breathe while their head wasn't quite born yet. They didn't want the baby to breathe and start to suffocate so they had to be quick.

Everything burned like it was on fire and her body started to shake like she was being electrocuted which made Eddie shake along with her.

Her stomach clenched and tightened when she finally felt that last push work and the weight shifted and pulled away from her abdomen.

"I've got you," Eddie murmured against her hair when her weight slumped back into the pillows and she breathed like she was either drowning or about to be sick. He could see her eyes were half-open but she wasn't really looking or seeing anything, she was blacking out.

His hand moved to cradle the side of her face and his thumb swiped across her cheekbone beneath her eye while he leaned over with his knees pressing into the bed. His lips attached to the side of her head and he started whispering sweet nothings against her temple to try and keep her calm and get her to focus on breathing properly.

"Is… is she okay?" (Y/n) reached a shaking hand up to cup Eddie's wrist when her vision finally started to come back into focus. Seeing Eddie hovering over her with the blinding light creating a halo around him made a fuzzy feeling spread through (Y/n)'s bones and had her lips curving up into a lopsided smile.

She felt his lips press to her forehead and he smiled into her skin before he turned and looked down at Claire.

He watched her cut the cord and swaddle their girl up in a blanket before she leaned over and carefully placed her down on (Y/n)'s chest.

Tears flushed Eddie's face and he tilted his head down to press his lips against the top of their daughter's head. She was finally here. She was in their arms. Eddie didn't have to panic about losing either of them anymore. He didn't have to dread coming home and finding (Y/n) passed out or wait for a phone call where she told him she was so sick she'd lost the baby.

He didn't have to panic about driving her to the hospital in the middle of the night and be told their daughter was gone.

And now (Y/n) could start to get better.

They both knew the little girl in their arms was worth the wait, the pain and the hassle. And Eddie knew from one look at her that she was going to do the same to him that (Y/n) did. Both his girls were going to have him wrapped around their fingers.

"She's beautiful," Eddie felt his hand begin to tremble when he grazed his fingers along the back of their daughter's head. He turned to press a kiss to (Y/n)'s temple, his lips morphed by the smile that refused to budge.

(Y/n) pressed a kiss to the corner of Eddie's jaw when he leaned over her and she felt him prize his hand out of her numb grip so he could cradle the back of her head and keep her close.

"See? You did it, mi amor."

"You hold her." (Y/n) motioned their little girl towards Eddie and nodded when he just stared down at her.

She wanted to try and sit up and gather her senses, which she couldn't do with their daughter in her arms taking all of her attention. And (Y/n) knew the placenta hadn't come away yet, she needed that to happen so she could truly calm down and get a drink and maybe try and sleep.

The team would be up here soon enough and Chris wanted to come down as soon as they had the baby. (Y/n) would need to gather her senses and liven up before they had any visitors.

Her eyes followed Eddie as he carefully slid his hands beneath the small bundle on her chest. He lifted their girl as carefully as he could and tilted her back so she was leaning on his chest instead. His lips pressed to the top of her head and he started to sway from side to side as he stood up rather than sitting back down. Eddie had a sudden wave of energy that he needed to get rid of.

"Do we have a name in mind?" Claire wrote down a few notes while she had a moment. Her eyes flickered between the couple as (Y/n) grinned and nodded up at Eddie who was a mix of crying and laughing.

"Lilah."

They had kept Chris's gender a surprise, mainly because Eddie had been away in the army and (Y/n) didn't want a baby shower or anything without Eddie home. He missed out on so much, (Y/n) didn't want to know the gender without him and have to tell him over a screen.

But this time they wanted to find out and when they did, they started going through names. They had Lilah picked out for over a month now and it was set in stone. Just looking at her cemented the name for them.

"That's lovely. Oh, this is Lindsey, she will take baby to get her cleaned and weighed and then bring her right back to you."

Claire wrote down Lilah's name on the small plastic band she had ready and handed it to another midwife who gingerly knocked and poked her head around the door.

It was clear in his eyes that Eddie didn't want to hand his daughter over to someone. He wanted to keep her right here on his chest or have her in the room with them. But he knew she needed to be cleaned and dressed and checked over before he could sit and fuss her all afternoon.

He leaned forward and carefully eased her down into the young girl's arms and watched with tightening lungs as she disappeared out the room with his daughter.

"Okay (Y/n), can you do some small pushes for the placenta please? Then we can get you sorted and more comfortable." She pulled on a new pair of gloves and sat down on the end of the bed near (Y/n)'s ankles.

Reaching her hand out, (Y/n) gently tugged on Eddie's arm, silently asking him to sit down next to her. He obliged happily, squishing onto the side of the bed and he curved his left arm around her shoulders to help her sit up and lean into his chest. His lips pressed to the back of her head and he rubbed his hand up and down her arm with a smile.

(Y/n) curled her right hand around Eddie's thigh and moved her left hand to grip the bed rail again to steady herself. She tried to smile, but she didn't have the energy to start pushing. At least the placenta was smaller and more squishy and compact. It should be easier than Lilah. (Y/n) remembered the placenta coming so quickly after she had Chris, she barely felt it.

She tried to push. She did her best, but she couldn't feel her legs anymore and her pelvis felt like it had been shattered apart.

A sudden, sharp pain like a knife to the abdomen caused (Y/n) to jolt forward and a gasp tumbled past her lips.

"Ow- ow!" Her hand let go of the rail to push deeply into the side of her stomach and she flopped her head into Eddie's chest as she started to take sharp breaths.

Her hand scratched into Eddie's thigh like she was trying to tear through to the muscle but Eddie barely felt it. His eyes were focused on looking between (Y/n)'s thighs.

She was bleeding.

His left arm moved down to curl tighter around her waist and his right hand moved to cup the side of (Y/n)'s face. He pressed his lips to the top of her head and leaned her into him when she started to cry. She was haemorrhaging and the placenta hadn't even come away yet.

"Alright baby, shh. Deep, slow breaths with me, look?" He spoke against her temple and tried to shift his focus so he was taking deep breaths. She needed to slow down and breathe deeply so she took in more oxygen and stayed calm.

But his gaze shifted back down to the bed when (Y/n) cried out. He felt her face smother into his chest and her body curled over with her knees jabbing up into her chest. Another pitiful cry left her lips along with something that resembled a weak scream and Eddie watched in horror as the haemorrhage started to get worse.

It looked like a tap had turned on. The bedsheets were turning crimson and (Y/n)'s body was shaking as she clung to Eddie like he could somehow make a difference or take her pain away.

"I've got you. Shh, here we go."

Eddie shuffled back off the bed and chucked the pillow down on the floor so he could slowly lay (Y/n) down on her back. He noticed Claire page for a doctor before she got up and moved to the medicine drawer.

He let (Y/n) deadlock both hands around his left arm and he smothered his lips against her flushed temple while his other hand moved to her stomach. He started to push down and rub circles along her stomach.

"Hurts,"

"Not for long baby, the doctor's coming now."

"Just a small injection to clot your blood (Y/n), stay still honey." Claire lifted (Y/n)'s hospital gown and pressed around her lower abdomen to find the right spot for the medication. She injected it quickly while Eddie leaned down over (Y/n) so she couldn't move or jolt from the pain.

"D-don't leave me." (Y/n) turned her head to the side and pressed her face into Eddie's arm.

"I'm not going anywhere, mi amor. I'm staying right here with my girl, hm?"

She felt his hand move from her stomach to cradle the back of her head and it was soothing to have his lips against her temple. His fingers carded through her hair but she could feel herself beginning to tremble back and forth and her hands tightened on Eddie's arm. She tried to move his hand to her stomach where the pain was but she couldn't find the energy or the will to move.

Claire's voice sounded like it was turning to mush or as if (Y/n) had her head held underwater and everything was clogged and distant and so far away. She couldn't hear Claire asking if she wanted some morphine for the pain. She could barely hear Eddie answer for her.

"She's in agony, give her the morphine." She needed something, anything for the pain.

Claire briefed the doctor on the situation when the elder woman entered the room and took a scan of the notes. She looked over (Y/n)'s heart rate monitor and quickly assessed her vitals, but everyone froze when the monitor started to beep.

Her pulse was dropping.

"(Y/n)? Can you hear me?" The doctor leaned over her and lifted her pupil to flash a light across her eye, but she didn't gain much of a reaction. Her gaze momentairely cast across to Eddie before she looked back down at (Y/n). "Claire, a dose of adrenaline please."

Eddie watched with rabid eyes as the doctor held (Y/n)'s left arm straight and injected a dose of adrenaline into the crease of her elbow. If her heartbeat dropped any lower she would go into cardiac arrest. They all focused on the monitor while Eddie let the uneven beeping and the drastic volume flood one ear and drift straight out the other.

His eyes focused on (Y/n) and his hand started to smooth through her hair while his other hand reached down and grabbed her hand. He locked his fingers tightly around hers and waited.

It felt like a miracle when her fingers weakly squeezed his hand and the monitor started to pick up again. But her heartbeat was still ten beats less than what it had been before.

"Eddie…"

"I'm still here, baby, it's okay." He kissed her temple and brushed her hair away from her face, trying to smile when she leaned into the touch.

"Alright, put her on oxygen and monitor her for ten minutes. If the placenta doesn't come away, give medication to initiate contractions. Let's sit her back up and keep her lucid."

Eddie hooked an arm around (Y/n)'s back and pulled her carefully into his chest while the doctor placed the pillow back behind her. And she elevated the bed so when Eddie leaned (Y/n) back down, she was sitting up instead of lying down.

He could tell she didn't like the oxygen tube Claire secured around her ears and beneath her nose, but it was for her own good. It would help her heartbeat pick up and keep her awake.

He let himself slump down on the side of the bed and pulled (Y/n)'s hand to rest over his thigh. His hand moved up and down her arm and every now and then he leaned over to kiss her temple. The doctor kept an eye on her levels and they all teetered around on egg shells, waiting to see if the placenta would come away yet.

All of a sudden, (Y/n) tugged on Eddie's hand and moved it towards her stomach. She pulled her knees up and groaned, slumping her head forward until her temple bashed into Eddie's shoulder and her chest fell onto his.

"Try and push, (Y/n), just little pushes, placenta's coming now."

(Y/n) tried, but it didn't feel like she had any control over her body. Her stomach was tensing and squeezing of its own accord, she didn't really have to push or do anything at all. Her head turned to the side and she tucked her face into Eddie's neck, whimpering and letting her tears soak into his skin. Her right hand stayed deadlocked in his and she moved her left arm to slump onto his back to hold him tight.

"Good girl, you're doing so well." He whispered against her hair, cupping the back of her neck with his fingers tangling in her hair.

He felt (Y/n) start to shake back and forth against him but he couldn't have felt more relieved when Claire finally delivered the placenta.

That was it. They could let (Y/n) relax now. They could clean her up and get her on some more pain relief and let her sleep. She could start to recover and feel better now, Eddie could stop worrying now.

"I'm giving her another dose of adrenaline, to keep her heart leveling out in case she has another bleed."

Eddie didn't like the sound of that, but he nodded all the same as the doctor gave (Y/n) another quick injection in her elbow. He understood. She didn't want (Y/n)'s heart to start to drop now that her body was finished pushing and she was at risk of another haemorrhage which would disrrupt her heart.

"Doctor… it's not all here."

"What?" Eddie whipped his head to the right and looked at the pair of them, fury burning in his eyes. He looked over Claire who had a metal dish in her hands, he blood-soaked gloves clinging tight to the dish.

"Part of the placenta has broken off, it's retained." She had examined the placenta as they always did to make sure it was in tact. This one wasn't. Part of it had broken and it wasn't here or on the bed, which meant it was still somewhere in the womb. They needed to get it delivered soon before (Y/n) had another bleed or gained an infection.

"Get it out-"

"Mr Diaz, we will. I don't want to push (Y/n)'s body too far, let's give her something to induce contractions, see if we can't get it out naturally."

A small whimper bubbled past (Y/n)'s lips when Eddie leaned her backwards and carefully laid her back against the pillow. He let her keep hold of his hand and he ran his other fingers up and down her arm while the doctor leaned over her other side.

"Just another quick injection (Y/n)."

Eddie felt the shudder that passed through (Y/n)'s body and the way she cried when the needle punctured into her sensitive, sore stomach. And he knew she didn't like or understand why she now felt her stomach clenching and tightening again.

She'd had the baby. She had the placenta. Why was it still hurting?

Her arms- and Eddie's hand she wouldn't let go of- cocooned around her middle and she brought her knees up to her stomach as she began to cry. Tears drenched her already sodden face and gasps bubbled past her lips as her stomach clenched, squeezed and then relaxed every few seconds.

"Hurts!"

"I know baby, I know." Leaning down, Eddie attached his lips to the side of (Y/n)'s head and cradled the side of her neck. He couldn't do anything. He couldn't make the pain go away or make it stop or get her body to be rid of that last piece of the puzzle that would end (Y/n)'s torment. She had been through enough, but Eddie couldn't make it stop.

He felt the way (Y/n) started to wheeze in between gasps and her body was shaking worse. It felt like each contraction she had lasted longer and started to tear her muscles apart instead of just tightening and relaxing them. The rhythm was uneven and unpredictable and it was agony.

"Eddie…"

When the minutes started to tick by, Eddie pressed a lasting kiss to the side of (Y/n)'s head before he looked down at Claire. She shook her head. It hadn't come away.

"You can't leave her like this- she's in fucking agony. Do something!" The dangerous tone to Eddie's voice said it all. If they didn't do something, he would.

"Claire, go book theatre. This isn't working and we can't risk another mass haemorrhage. A surgeon can remove the last piece, and make sure there's no internal bleeding." They didn't have a choice. (Y/n)'s body wasn't doing this on its own anymore and there was no other medication they could give to make the placenta come away. More medication could send (Y/n) into a cardiac arrest.

They needed to remove the placenta before (Y/n) got an infection or another bleed or she passed away. This was their last resort.

"Alright baby, it's all gonna be over now. You just hang in there for me, okay? Don't leave me."

***

"So, how is she? You said on the phone it went a bit haywire." Evan planted his hand down on Eddie's shoulder and gave him a little nudge as they walked down the corridor. Chris speeding in front of them out of earshot, even though he didn't know which room was (Y/n)'s.

Eddie glanced between him and Bobby, the first two who were down here at the hospital to visit (Y/n). Hen, Chimney and Maddie said they would stop by later and Eddie's parents would be in town by tonight to see their granddaughter.

"Better than expected. After Lilah came out breach, she had a mass haemorrhage, an op to remove the placenta and two blood transfusions and seven stitches in her abdomen. And she can't remember most of it."

Eddie scratched his hand along the back of his neck and tried to take a deep breath. He didn't mean to go off on one, but he couldn't help it. He couldn't see why things had gone so wrong, or why everything had to happen to them.

He had resorted to praying with Lilah in his arms while (Y/n) had been in surgery because a large part of Eddie didn't believe (Y/n) would come out alive. The state she had been in when she left him made him fear for the future. He couldn't bring up Chris and a newborn alone, he couldn't do it without (Y/n).

"At least she's on the mend." Bobby tried to smile and they all watched Chris spot (Y/n)'s name on the door and rush to open it.

"And it's over now. She's worth it, right? Lilah?" Evan's question was rhetorical, he wasn't expecting an answer with the way he stormed ahead after Chris to go and see (Y/n) and the new addition.

But his words made Eddie stop in his tracks and stare ahead of him at the corridor that seemed to stretch on and on in front of him.

Worth it?

Was Eddie selfish? Was he a horrid person- the world's most cruel dad for thinking that it would be easier to lose the baby than to lose (Y/n)?

Of course she was worth it. That was all (Y/n) and Eddie had been thinking all these months when (Y/n) could barely get herself out of bed or stand up straight or was crippled over in pain. It would be worth it because they would have a boy and a girl. They would have a baby girl to cherish and gush over, they would have another addition to their family.

And they had always talked about having lots of kids. After Chris's diagnosis, they decided to wait. See how Chris did, focus on him and make sure he was okay first, then talk about more kids.

But Eddie didn't want more, not now. Not after what he'd just witnessed. If more kids came with the cost of possibly losing (Y/n), then Eddie wouldn't pay that price.

Taking a deep breath, Eddie pushed ahead and followed Bobby into the room.

"Mummy!"

"Hi baby, oh I missed you!" (Y/n) bound her arms around Chris and let him scramble onto the bed and sit beside her. She smothered her lips against his temple as he leaned on her thigh.

She was sat cross-legged in the bed, wearing Eddie's lounge wear shorts and one of his hoodies. She knew she didn't look her best, but she wanted to feel comfortable and Eddie's clothes were loose and baggy on her, just what she needed right now. The hoodie stopped her scratching the IV which was hidden beneath the cuff that Eddie kept pulling over her hand to hide the temptation of scratching the needle loose.

It also hung around her hips so it didn't touch her abdomen or irritate the stitches she had beneath her belly button where they had to operate.

Her eyes drifted around the room, watching Evan give her a signature smile before he moved to the small cot holding Lilah in the corner of the room. She grinned tiredly at Bobby who leaned over to give her a small hug before he sat down near Evan.

And when her eyes landed on Eddie, she kept one arm around Chris and reached her other hand out for her husband.

He took her hand, pressed a gentle kiss to her wrist, then sat down on the bed so he was facing her. His free hand moved to squeeze her exposed thigh and he feathered his fingertips up and down her leg as he smiled softly at her.

This outcome might be worth the risks, but Eddie was certain of one thing.

They weren't taking this risk ever again.

#eddie diaz x reader #evan buckley #imagine #911 imagine #pregnant! reader #eddie diaz imagine #eddie x reader #eddie diaz

299 notes · View notes

sunnysidevans · 2 months ago

Text

Chris Evans + Marvel Masterlist.

blog is 18+ please remember to read ALL warnings on any fics.

CHRIS EVANS

Before He Cheats

Synopsis: What happens when you find out your shitty boyfriend cheats on you with a new coworker and you decide to show him just who he messed with and you run into a bit someone unexpected?

The Stages Series Masterlist- Status: Completed.

Synopsis:Everyone goes through stages in life, meeting new people, falling in love, getting married , having children. Some people think it won’t happen to them but maybe fate hadn’t lead you in the right direction.

Mini Me -

Synopsis: Halloween is important in every household, In the Evans household, its definitely full of surprise costumes.

Salt and Pepper -

Synopsis: Chris is feeling down on himself and is feeling his age, you prove to him that he’s still in his prime.

RANSOM DRYSDALE:

Angel Play Series - Status: Complete

Synopsis: Hugh Ransom Drysdale is the biggest mobster in Massachusetts with many connections, what happens if Ransom finally meets his match?

Part I , Part II , Part III , Final

Better Than Me + Part Two.

Synopsis: Ransom has time to reflect on his relationship with you and all the things he put you and your relationship through.

ANDY BARBER:

Masked -

Synopsis: A friend of yours invites you to a party, after a crappy work week what happens when this party actually makes up for it?

Long Days

Synopsis: everyone copes with a bad day differently, after a particularly bad day andy finds a new way to cope, with some help of course.

Plus One

Synopsis: After recieving an inivation to your ex’s wedding, you are left trying to find someone to be your ‘boyfriend’. Who better than your boss?

STEVE ROGERS:

Angel

Synopsis: You are always there for Steve, In every moment in life that he needs, what happens when he’s not there for you?

What Happens in Greece Stays In Greece

Synopsis: after one night together you never thought you’d see the super soldier again, but life has a funny way of keeping this exciting.

Two Mending Hearts

Synopsis: after a rash decison, you and steve are left picking up the pieces of your hearts.

STEVE ROGERS ALTERNATE UNIVERSE.

Sugar and Spice - Mechanic AU.

Synopsis: The opening of a new body shop down the street brings in more than just new business.

Heart Cookies - Mechanic au - can be read alone or with “Sugar and Spice”

Synopsis: after finding out your boyfriend hates Valentines day, you are determined to find out why, and maybe to change his mind.

For The Love Of Rock And Roll Series - Rockstar au ; Status: Completed

Synopsis: After a dark past and many mistakes, you try to tread lightly in the world of rock and roll. Rockstars included.

Safe in Your Arms - bodyguard au.

Synopsis: Your father is in the biggest mob of Brooklyn. Needing security 24/7 was important for you. What you didn’t expect was how much he was going to mean to you

Ghost + Part II - Biker au.

Synopsis: Being married to someone in the biggest motorcycle gang is hard, what happens when you see steve one minute and the next its like he never exsisted?

Love and Order- Mob au.

Synopsis: Being at the peak of your career, you are faced with the hard truth. In your career in law and your love life.

Sunshine and Cowboys mini series - cowboy au.

Part I,Part II , Part III

Synopsis: After your divorce, you are pushed to the country side of upstate new york for the summer. A summer of rebuilding and love.

Bucky Barnes

Home

Synopsis: Looking for a break from your busy life you go home for the holidays. They say the holidays really brings people together. (au)

Last Updated: Unkown.

to be redirected to the main library - please click here.

#chris evans #Chris Evans x reader #Steve rogers #steve Rogers x reader #Andy barber #Andy barber x reader #ransom drysdale #Ransome drysdale x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader

89 notes · View notes

cevansbrat0007 · 1 year ago

Note

Hi Britt! I’m loving the newest update on Ari and bird!!❤️ I was wondering if you’re still writing the fic of Andy and babygirl where they’re at a family trip to Costco and her private acc is revealed? Much love❤️❤️

Yes. Yes. YES! That mini-series is still on the books. The working title is "Trust Funds". And even though I haven't started writing it yet, I've already discovered and mapped out my ending. So please stay tuned.

Also, super pumped to know that you're enjoying Ari and Bird. I'm having so much fun exploring the relationship between those two stubborn lovebirds.

But that doesn't mean that I don't miss Andy and Baby Girl. Those two will be making a return sooner rather than later. Thanks!

#cevansbrat0007 asks #cevansbrat0007growing pains series #trust funds #trust funds mini-series #chris evans #andy barber #chris evans imagines #andy barber imagines #chris evans fanfiction #andy barber fanfiction #chris evans x reader #andy barber x reader #chris evans x black!reader #andy barber x black!reader #chris evans x wife!reader #andy barber x wife!reader #andy barber x baby girl #bring on the angst

8 notes · View notes

thirtysomethingloser92 · 3 months ago

Text

1. If It Makes You Happy, It Can't Be That Bad.

Mini-series based off Cherry Lips. Summary: One night with world famous Remy Lebeau turns into something neither one of you expected. Warnings: Smut, Daddy Kinks, Bondage, Spanking, Choking, Threesomes (Amongst so much more), angst, fluff, romance. Chapter Warning: Light Phone Sex. Taglist: bontensbabygirl

“Funny thing,” you began with a playful smile, lounging comfortably on your bed as your phone screen lit up with the familiar face of Remy LeBeau. His signature smirk was already in place, as if he could anticipate exactly where you were going with this. His dark eyes glinted with mischief as he looked up from the notebook he'd been scribbling in, his fingers still idly strumming the strings of his guitar.

“Oh yeah? What’s that?” he drawled, his Cajun accent thick and smooth, like honeyed whiskey.

You bit your lip, trying to suppress a grin. “So, I was doing my weekly grocery run, you know, minding my own business,” you teased, dragging the moment out just to toy with him a little. Remy leaned in closer to the camera, clearly intrigued, though the playful glint in his eyes said he probably already had an idea of what was coming.

“Mhm, sounds serious,” he said, placing the guitar aside on the hotel bed behind him. The faint sound of fans screaming outside his window made you chuckle. He might’ve been sitting across the world in a luxurious hotel suite, but right now, it felt like he was right in the room with you.

“Oh, it is,” you continued, your grin widening as you held up a finger, signaling for him to wait. “Hold on.”

You kicked off the blankets that had been wrapped around you, crawling across your bed to reach the nightstand. The movement made the oversized shirt you were wearing ride up slightly, revealing the sliver of underwear underneath. You caught the flicker of Remy’s gaze over the screen, his eyes briefly tracking your movements before a knowing smile tugged at his lips.

When you sat back down, you held up a glossy gossip magazine, flipping it around to show him the cover. “Look what I found,” you announced triumphantly. There, plastered across the front page in bold letters, was the headline: Sexiest Man Alive: Remy LeBeau, accompanied by a smoldering picture of him leaning on his famous guitar, his tousled hair and sharp jawline doing most of the work.

“Oh, fuck…” Remy groaned, leaning back in his chair and dragging his hands over his face in a dramatic display of exasperation. He shook his head before peeking at you from between his fingers, that ever-present smile never really leaving his face. “How did I know you were gonna bring that one up?”

You shrugged, feigning innocence. “Because you know I enjoy stirring you up,” you replied, flipping through the pages of the magazine. “I mean, come on, ‘Sexiest Man Alive’? That’s a bold title.” You paused, then added with a playful glint in your eye, “Personally, I thought it would’ve been Chris Evans this year.”

Remy let out a low chuckle, his smirk growing wider. “Always keepin’ me humble, huh?”

You looked up from the magazine and arched an eyebrow. “Well, someone’s got to! I can practically hear the screams of your fans outside your hotel room,” you teased, motioning to the background noise that was impossible to ignore. “Bet they’re giving you an even bigger head than usual.”

Remy’s grin turned mischievous, and without missing a beat, he leaned closer to the camera and said, “Funny, don’t recall you ever complainin’ ‘bout my head before.”

Your face instantly flushed at the double entendre, eyes widening in surprise. You looked away, shaking your head as you tried to regain your composure.

He laughed, the sound deep and rich, clearly enjoying how easily he could fluster you.

You looked back at him through the screen, shooting him a mock glare, though the smile tugging at your lips betrayed your amusement. “Yeah, okay, fine. You got me,” you muttered, flipping the magazine closed and tossing it aside with a huff. “But I’m still not letting you get away with that.”

Remy leaned back in his chair, folding his arms behind his head in a relaxed, almost cocky posture. “Oh, cher, I’m countin’ on it.”

You rolled your eyes, but the warmth spreading through your chest betrayed the effect his teasing had on you. Even with half the world between you, Remy had a way of making the distance feel small, of making you feel like you were the only person he cared about in that moment—despite the dozens of fans clamoring for his attention outside his hotel room.

“Well,” you sighed dramatically, “I guess it’s my job to keep you grounded, what with all the ‘Sexiest Man Alive’ nonsense going to your head.”

He winked at you, his voice lower now, almost a purr. “Y’ do a damn fine job of it, cher.”

Your heart fluttered at the compliment, but you quickly masked it with a smirk. “Good. Someone has to keep you in check, after all.”

Remy’s eyes softened for a moment, the teasing tone fading just slightly as he gazed at you through the screen. “Ain’t no one else I’d rather have doin’ it.”

You felt your cheeks warm again, the sincerity in his voice catching you off guard. For a second, you forgot about the magazine, the fans, and the fact that you were on opposite sides of the world. It was just you and Remy, sharing a quiet moment in the midst of the chaos that surrounded his life.

“Well,” you said softly, leaning a little closer to the camera, “I guess I’ll take that as a compliment.”

Remy’s smile turned gentle, his eyes never leaving yours. “You should.” He reached back behind him and grabbed the guitar again. Remy’s fingers danced effortlessly across the strings of his guitar, the soft strumming filling the quiet space between you. You watched him through the screen, your eyes following the familiar way his hands moved, coaxing out a melody that seemed to wrap around you like a warm embrace. Every now and again he’d grimace, pausing and scratching something out in front of him before starting again. The sound was soothing, intimate, and in moments like this, it was easy to forget that this wasn’t just any man. This was Remy LeBeau—a world-renowned musician, adored by millions, and somehow, inexplicably, a part of your life.

You pulled your blanket tighter around you, cocooning yourself in its warmth as you curled in further on your bed. The soft glow of your phone illuminated your face, but the rest of the room was dim, casting everything in soft shadows. You’d been doing this for weeks now—late-night calls, quiet moments shared through screens, and sometimes, stolen words that felt like secrets between you and him. But it still felt surreal, like you were living in someone else’s life.

Had it really only been four months since he had walked into your world?

You thought back to the night it all began, the memory still fresh in your mind despite the whirlwind that followed. It was supposed to be an ordinary night—well, ordinary if you didn’t count the fact that your ex had just left you for the woman he’d been cheating on you with. You’d gone to the concert hoping to escape, to drown out the hurt with music and a few too many drinks. But then, in a moment of anger and impulse, you’d poured your drink over him right there in the middle of the crowd.

That should have been the end of it. A mortifying moment you’d regret later. But then you looked up, towards the stage, and there was—Remy LeBeau, larger than life, looking right at you through the chaos with that same stupid smirk on his face that he was wearing now.

He’d invited you backstage, and that’s where everything changed. What was meant to be a brief encounter turned into the most intense night of your life.

You could still feel the weight of his hands, the heat of his body pressed against yours in that dressing room. It had been raw and passionate, the kind of thing that left you breathless and reeling. You’d never experienced anything like it. The way he met you in the middle with every demand, he made sure that you knew ultimately, you were in charge no matter what happened. It took almost two full weeks for his handprint to leave your ass and the bruises from his fingers to leave your hips. And when it was over, when you were both spent and you were trying to get dressed, he’d looked at you with those piercing eyes and asked for your number.

You never expected him to actually text you. Not Remy LeBeau, the man who had his pick of anyone in the world. But when his message appeared on your phone the next morning—You get home safe?—you’d stared at it for what felt like hours, unsure of how to respond. How were you supposed to talk to someone like him? Someone whose face was on billboards and magazine covers, whose name trended on social media every other day?

Every reply you typed out felt wrong, too casual or too eager, like you were trying too hard. Eventually, after hours of overthinking, you’d sent a simple Yeah, thanks. It was embarrassing how much you agonized over those two words, but somehow, that small exchange turned into more.

It was Remy who had suggested the coffee date before he left for Europe. You still remembered the way he’d asked, almost too casually, as if he wasn’t one of the most famous men in the world making a simple offer to grab coffee. But then, that was Remy—effortlessly cool, as if fame was just something that hovered around him, not something he actively sought.

The café he’d chosen was tucked away in a narrow alley, hidden from the bustling city streets, a place only locals would know. It wasn’t the kind of spot that would attract paparazzi or the curious eyes of fans, and that made it perfect. The little bell above the door had chimed when you walked in, the smell of freshly brewed coffee mingling with the faint scent of cinnamon and vanilla from the pastries behind the counter. There weren’t many people inside, just a couple of elderly patrons and a barista working quietly behind the counter.

You spotted him immediately, sitting in a corner, his back to the wall. He looked different in daylight, softer somehow. His usual rockstar edge was muted, replaced by something more relaxed, more real. He wasn’t wearing his signature leather jacket, just a simple sweater that clung to his lean frame, and his hair was tousled in a way that looked less deliberate than usual.

He smiled when he saw you, that slow, lazy grin that had undone you so easily the night before. “Cher,” he greeted, his voice low and warm, like a secret meant just for you.

You smiled back, a little nervous but trying to play it cool. “Hey.”

His security detail was nearby, but they were discreet, standing by the entrance, blending in with the ambiance of the café. For all intents and purposes, it felt like you and Remy were the only two people in the world.

You slipped into the seat across from him, the small table between you making the space feel more intimate than it had any right to. A steaming cup of coffee was already waiting for you. You took a sip, and for a moment, you let the warmth of the coffee and the coziness of the café settle your nerves.

The conversation started easily, like it always did with Remy. He had a way of making you feel comfortable, as if there wasn’t an ocean of difference between your worlds. He asked about your day, your work, and for the first time in a while, you found yourself talking about normal things—things that had nothing to do with the whirlwind of his fame. You talked about your favorite books, the places you liked to go when you needed to clear your head, the little things that made up your life.

And then, as the conversation naturally drifted back to the night before, his voice grew softer, more intimate. “You know,” he said, his eyes on you, “last night….I don’t meet a lot of people who can match me like that.”

His words hung in the air between you, heavy with meaning. You felt your heart skip a beat, but you didn’t say anything, waiting for him to continue.

“I meant what I said,” he added, his gaze never wavering. “I want you to come with me.”

He let that statement linger for a moment before leaning forward slightly, his elbows resting on the table. “Six months,” he repeated, his voice low but firm, as if the offer was something solid, tangible. “Come with me to Europe. We’ll travel, see the world. You can leave all this behind for a while.”

Your mind raced. Even though he’d made the same offer last night, hearing it again in the light of day felt different. More real. Last night, in the heat of the moment, it had been easy to brush it off as something said in the throes of passion. But now, with the sun streaming through the café windows and the world feeling far more grounded, it felt like an impossible choice.

You looked at him, studying the way his eyes held yours, serious and unwavering. He was offering you something that most people would kill for—a chance to escape, to see the world with him, to live a life you’d only ever dreamed about. It was tempting, so tempting that for a brief, fleeting moment, you let yourself imagine it. Traveling across Europe, waking up in different cities, spending nights wrapped in each other’s arms with no responsibilities, no worries. Just the two of you.

But then reality came crashing back in.

You had a life here. A job, bills, responsibilities that couldn’t just be put on hold for six months. And the idea of being followed by paparazzi, of having your every move scrutinized, wasn’t exactly appealing either. The thought of being thrust into his world—the world of bright lights, flashing cameras, and constant attention—made your stomach twist with anxiety.

“I—” You hesitated, unsure of how to put all of that into words. “I don’t think I can.”

His expression didn’t falter, but you saw the flicker of disappointment in his eyes. He leaned back slightly, his fingers tapping absently on the table. “Why not?” he asked, his voice still soft, but with a hint of something else—maybe frustration, maybe hurt. “You scared?”

You shook your head, though a part of you wondered if he was right. “It’s not that, it’s just…” You sighed, trying to find the right words. “I have a life here. A job, bills to pay. I can’t just drop everything and follow you around the world.”

He nodded slowly, as if he understood, but his eyes still held that intensity. “I get it, cher. But I’m not askin’ you to disappear forever. It’s just six months. You could take a break, live a little, see the world with me.” His voice softened, almost pleading now. “You don’t have to worry ‘bout money. I’ll take care of everything.”

You swallowed hard, torn between the desire to take the leap and the overwhelming sense of responsibility that weighed you down. “It’s not that simple,” you whispered.

Remy leaned back in his seat, his fingers tracing the rim of his coffee cup, his eyes never leaving yours. The soft murmur of the café around you faded into the background, leaving just the two of you in this intimate bubble. He had a way of doing that—making the world shrink down to just him, making you feel like you were the only thing that mattered in the room.

He glanced out the window for a moment, watching as the late afternoon light filtered in through the glass, casting golden shadows across the table. Then, without looking back at you, he spoke, his voice low, carrying the weight of the conversation you’d both had the night before.

“You remember what we talked ‘bout last night?” he murmured, his tone softer now, more serious.

You nodded, your mind drifting back to the previous evening, when you’d both let your guards down a little more than usual. The memory of it was still fresh—the way you’d both spoken honestly, the way he’d peeled back the layers of charm and showmanship for a moment, revealing something raw, something real.

He had said it then, the words coming out in that smooth, deliberate way of his, but with an undercurrent of vulnerability you hadn’t expected.

“Ain’t easy findin’ someone who matches y’r crazy, cher,” he had said, his eyes fixed on yours, even as his tone remained casual. “Most people, they don’t wanna go there. They don’t wanna dive deep into the wild parts of themselves—or y’. They wanna keep it safe, keep it easy.”

You remembered the way you’d nodded, feeling the truth of his words settle in your chest like a weight. “Exactly,” you’d agreed, your voice a little quieter, a little more thoughtful than usual. “It’s like… they want the thrill, but not the risk. They want the passion without the storm that comes with it.”

For a moment, the two of you had sat there in silence, the air between you thick with unspoken understanding. And then Remy had let out that low, knowing chuckle, shaking his head as if the whole thing was some cosmic joke he was all too familiar with.

“Yeah, well,” he had said, his tone threaded with both amusement and something darker—something that hinted at past disappointments, at scars that hadn’t quite healed. “I ain’t met anyone yet who could handle my storm. Ain’t found no one who could match me, not all the way.”

He had paused then, his eyes lingering on yours, and for a moment, the lazy smirk that usually played on his lips returned. But this time, there had been something different behind it, something more serious. More real.

“That is… until tonight,” he had finished, his voice dropping to a low, intimate murmur that had made your heart skip a beat.

Now, sitting across from him in the quiet café, you could feel the echo of those words reverberating between you. Remy was watching you closely, his dark eyes searching yours, as if trying to read the thoughts you weren’t quite ready to say aloud.

He leaned forward slightly, his elbows resting on the table, his expression softening in a way that made the moment feel even more intimate. “Cher,” he began, his voice quieter now, almost tentative in a way that surprised you, “I know you got reasons to stay. I get it. But I ain’t talkin’ ‘bout forever. I’m just askin’ for a chance. Six months... No strings if y’ don’t want ‘em. Just you and me, seein’ where it goes.”

You met his gaze, your heart tightening in your chest. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to take that leap. God, you wanted it more than you could admit. But the reality of it—leaving everything behind, stepping into his world, a world that was so different from your own—was terrifying. And maybe, in the quietest part of your heart, you were afraid of what might happen if you couldn’t keep up with his storm.

“I…” You hesitated, your voice catching in your throat. You didn’t want to hurt him, but you couldn’t ignore the practicalities of your life. “Remy, I can’t just pack up and leave like that. I’ve got a job. Responsibilities. I can’t just… drop everything.”

His eyes softened, and you could see the flicker of disappointment there, though he hid it well behind that easy charm of his. “I know, cher,” he said quietly, his fingers tapping rhythmically on the edge of the table. “I ain’t gonna push y’. I just…” He trailed off, as if searching for the right words, before locking eyes with you again. “Look, if y’ can’t come with me, I get it. But would y’ mind if I called y’? Maybe we could keep in touch, yeah?”

You blinked, a little surprised by the sincerity in his request. For all his confidence, there was something almost vulnerable in the way he asked, like he wasn’t just offering you an escape from your life, but hoping to keep some kind of connection alive between you. As if he didn’t want you to slip away completely, even if you couldn’t be by his side.

The thought of hearing his voice, of staying connected, even from a distance, made your heart ache in a way you hadn’t expected. Despite the whirlwind of emotions you were feeling, despite all the reasons you knew it was crazy, you found yourself nodding.

“Yeah,” you said softly, meeting his gaze. “I’d like that.”

Remy’s lips curled into a slow smile, the kind that always made you feel like you were the only person in the world. “Good,” he murmured, his voice warm and rich with something you couldn’t quite name. “I’ll call y’ then, cher. And who knows? Maybe after a few weeks of hearin’ my voice, you might start to miss me enough to change y’r mind.”

You chuckled, shaking your head, but there was a warmth in your chest now, a flicker of something that felt dangerously close to hope. “We’ll see,” you replied, your voice teasing but gentle.

The tension that had been hanging in the air between you seemed to ease, and for the rest of the conversation, things felt lighter, easier. You talked about music, about his upcoming tour, about anything that didn’t carry the weight of decisions and life-altering choices. But that connection—the one that had been lingering between you since the night before—was still there, humming quietly beneath the surface.

When it was time to leave, Remy stood up, pulling his sunglasses on with that effortless grace that always made him seem larger than life. He gave you one last look, his smile soft, his voice low. “Take care of y’self, cher. I’ll call y’.”

You nodded, your heart doing strange, unsteady things in your chest. “You too.”

And then, with one last glance, he turned and walked out of the café, his security trailing behind him. You watched him go, the door swinging shut behind him, and for a long moment, you just sat there, staring at the empty seat across from you.

It wasn’t until you reached for your phone and saw his name still sitting in your messages that you realized you were already waiting for his call.

And so, here you were, four months later, wrapped in blankets and watching him strum his guitar through a video call. The soft, melodic chords floated through the speakers, filling your room with warmth, as if he were right there beside you. You couldn’t help but smile as you watched him, lost in the music. It was moments like these that felt so intimate, so personal, that you forgot for a second who he was to the rest of the world—Remy LeBeau, the rockstar. To you, right now, he was just Remy, the man who somehow made you feel like you were the only person that mattered.

But things hadn’t always been so simple.

The first few weeks after that night at the concert had been a blur of conflicting emotions. You’d tried telling yourself that this was nothing more than a fling, a brief distraction to help you move past the betrayal of your ex. You had convinced yourself that you could keep it casual, that it was just fun—a wild story you’d look back on one day and laugh about. But Remy? He had a way of making it impossible to keep your distance.

It started with the phone calls, almost every night. At first, they were lighthearted, teasing, filled with playful banter and flirtation. He’d call after a show, his voice still buzzing with adrenaline, and tell you about the crowd, the energy, the chaos of it all. You’d listen, intrigued, laughing when he’d slip into stories about the wild things he’d seen on tour. But then, as the night wore on and the conversation slowed, there came a shift. His voice would drop to that familiar low timbre that sent shivers down your spine, and suddenly it wasn’t just words you were exchanging anymore.

The first time it happened, you hadn’t expected it. It was late, and your conversation had drifted, like it often did, into the easy, comfortable rhythm you’d fallen into over the past few weeks. You were talking about nothing in particular, just the small details of your day, the way the moon looked outside your window—big and full, casting a pale glow across your room—or how his hotel room was too cold even though it was the middle of summer. He grumbled lightly about the AC, about how it never seemed to work right, and you had laughed, teasing him about his preference for luxury despite his grungy rockstar persona.

It was familiar, relaxed, the way you talked most nights. There was always an underlying tension, of course—a kind of charged energy that lingered between the words, between the silences—but you’d gotten used to it. It was part of the dynamic you shared, the playful flirtation that never seemed to cross a line.

But then, something shifted.

You didn’t notice it right away. Not at first. You were too lost in the comfort of his voice, in the way it wrapped around you, warm and easy, making you feel like you weren’t alone in your bed, but curled up next to him, sharing the same space. But then his tone changed, just slightly—a subtle drop in pitch, a softness that wasn’t there before.

“What are y’ wearin’ right now, cher?” he asked, his voice suddenly low, intimate, like a dark velvet caress that sent a shiver down your spine.

You blinked, surprised, letting out a breathy laugh, unsure of whether he was joking or not. “What?” you asked, your voice light, trying to play it off even though your heart had already started to race.

He didn’t laugh. Instead, you heard the faintest sound of his breath on the other end of the line, slow and measured. “You heard me,” he murmured, his words edged with a playful challenge. “Tell me what y’r wearin’. I’ve been thinkin’ ‘bout you all night, and I can’t get the image out of my head.”

Your heart was pounding now, heat rising to your cheeks. You hesitated, unsure of how to respond, your mind racing. You weren’t used to this kind of attention—at least, not like this. Not from him. There had always been this tension between you, this pull, but he’d never crossed that line after that one night you both shared.

And yet… the way he said it, the way his voice curled around the words, made it impossible to ignore the desire that was already stirring inside you. It was as if he knew exactly what he was doing to you, as if he could feel the way your breath hitched, the way your body tensed in anticipation. You could hear the smile in his tone, the teasing edge that both excited and unnerved you.

You hesitated for a moment longer, but then you found yourself answering, your voice quieter now, a little breathless. “Just… a t-shirt,” you murmured, feeling shy despite the fact that he couldn’t see you. “And, um… nothing else.”

There was a pause on the other end of the line, and you could almost hear the way his breath caught, the low sound of approval that hummed in his chest. “Mmm, that’s what I thought,” he drawled, his voice a slow, seductive rhythm. “I knew y’d be layin’ there, all soft and warm. Bet y’r lookin’ real pretty right now, cher.”

Your pulse quickened, heat blooming in your chest, spreading down to your core. The way he spoke to you—so direct, so sure of himself—was intoxicating. There was no hesitation in his words, no uncertainty. He knew exactly what he was doing, exactly how to pull you in, and you found yourself powerless to resist.

“Remy...” you whispered, unsure if you were trying to slow things down or encourage him to keep going.

He let out a low chuckle, the sound warm and rough, sending another shiver through you. “You like it when I say y’r name like that, don’t y’?” he murmured, his voice dropping even lower. “I can hear it in y’r voice, cher. You’re gettin’ all worked up, just from hearin’ me talk.”

You swallowed hard, your mouth suddenly dry, your body reacting to his words in ways you couldn’t control. He was right, of course. You could feel the way your body was responding, the way your skin was heating up, the way your thighs pressed together beneath the blankets. It was ridiculous, really, how much power he had over you, even from thousands of miles away. And yet… you didn’t want him to stop.

“Tell me what y’r doin’ right now,” he coaxed, his voice soft, soothing, as if it were the most natural thing in the world for him to be asking you this. “Are y’ touchin’ y’rself already? Or are y’ waitin’ for me to tell y’ what to do?”

Your breath caught again, and for a moment, you didn’t know how to respond. But then you realized he wasn’t asking for permission. He was drawing you in, coaxing you into a space where nothing else mattered but his voice and the way it made you feel. It was like he was right there with you, his words tracing over your skin, lighting you up from the inside out.

You closed your eyes, sinking deeper into the warmth of your bed, letting yourself get lost in the moment. “I’m waiting,” you whispered, your voice barely audible, but you knew he heard you. You could hear the way his breath hitched slightly, the satisfaction in his next words.

“Good girl,” he whispered, his voice a low, throaty purr that sent a wave of heat straight through you. “Now, I want you to take that hand of yours and slide it down... nice and slow. I want y’ to feel every inch of yourself, cher. Like it’s me touchin’ you.”

Your breath quickened, your body responding to the command before you even had time to think about it. You could feel the heat pooling low in your belly, your skin tingling with anticipation as you did as he asked, your hand moving slowly beneath the blankets, your fingers brushing against the soft skin of your thigh.

He continued to speak, his voice guiding you, coaxing you further, his words like a slow burn that ignited something deep within you. And before you knew it, you were completely wrapped up in him, in the sound of his breathing on the other end of the line, in the way he whispered your name like it was something sacred, something precious.

It was intoxicating, the way he made you feel so desired, so wanted, even from hundreds of miles away. It was as if the distance between you didn’t exist, as if he were right there beside you, his hands on your body, his lips at your ear, whispering every sinful thought that crossed his mind. And you wanted it. You wanted more.

The rest of the night passed in a blur of breathless whispers, of quiet moans and soft gasps, of his voice guiding you through every wave of pleasure. And when it was over, when you were both spent and quiet, he stayed with you on the line, his voice soft and soothing as he murmured sweet things into the phone, grounding you, bringing you back down from the high.

“Y’r somethin’ else, cher,” he had whispered, his voice warm and full of affection now, as if the heat of the moment had given way to a deeper intimacy. “I can’t wait to see y’ again. Gonna make sure I take my time with y’ next time we’re together.”

You smiled, your heart still racing, though there was a different kind of warmth in your chest now. “I can’t wait either,” you whispered back, feeling a little shy despite everything that had just happened.

And after it was over, after the heat and frenzy of it had passed, he’d stay on the line with you, his voice softening as he asked about your day, about your life. He’d talk about the things he wanted to do with you when he saw you again—places he wanted to take you, moments he wanted to share. And though the words were often filled with playful flirtation, there was an undercurrent of something deeper, something that left you wondering if it was more than just a casual fling for him, too.

But for all the passion, for all the heat, there remained that same phrase, echoing in your mind every time you spoke to him: We’ll just see where it goes. He had said it so many times, always with that teasing smile, as if the future was something neither of you could—or should—try to predict.

And yet, the more time you spent talking to him, the harder it became to keep your walls up. At first, you had tried to convince yourself that it was just physical, that it was the thrill of being wanted by someone like him. But the truth was, Remy had a way of getting under your skin. It wasn’t just the phone sex, though that certainly had its hold on you—leaving you breathless and aching for more, night after night. No, it was the way he spoke to you afterward, the way he asked questions and actually listened to your answers, the way he remembered the small details about your life that you hadn’t even realized you’d shared.

He had a way of making you feel wanted, even when he was thousands of miles away. And that scared you.

Because how could you possibly let yourself fall for someone like him? Someone whose life was a whirlwind of fame, fortune, and endless attention. Someone who could have anyone, anywhere, yet somehow was choosing to spend his nights strumming his guitar and talking to you. It didn’t make sense. You weren’t naïve—you knew the kind of life someone like Remy led. The constant travel, the adoring fans, the temptations of a rockstar’s world. And you… well, you were just a small part of that. Weren’t you?

A part of you wanted to believe that maybe it could be something more. That maybe, for all his charm and effortless cool, Remy was looking for something real. Something deeper. But the other part of you—the part that had been burned before, the part that had learned to be cautious—was terrified. You’d been hurt before. You knew what it felt like to open yourself up, only to be left shattered in the end. You’d built these walls for a reason, after all. You couldn’t afford to let yourself get hurt again.

But as you sat there, watching him through the screen, his fingers moving effortlessly over the strings of his guitar, you felt your heart ache with the familiar pull of emotion. The way he looked at you—his brow furrowed in concentration as he lost himself in the music—it was like you were the only thing grounding him, the only thing keeping him anchored in the chaos of his life. And that made it so much harder to keep your distance.

“Whatcha thinkin’ ‘bout?” Remy’s voice broke through your thoughts, pulling you back to the present. His eyes were on you again, sharp and curious, as if he could sense the shift in your mood.

You hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to answer. How could you possibly put all of this into words? The swirl of emotions, the fear, the longing. But then you smiled softly, shaking your head. “Nothing,” you lied, your voice gentle. “Just… enjoying the music.”

His lips curled into that familiar, lazy grin, the one that always made your heart skip a beat. “Good,” he murmured, his voice low and warm. “’Cause I’m playin’ this just for you, cher.”

Your heart fluttered at his words, and for a brief moment, you let yourself believe it. You let yourself believe that maybe, just maybe, this wasn’t just a passing fling. That maybe it was something more. Something real.

You sighed softly, snuggling deeper into your blankets, the warmth of the music and his voice lulling you into a comfortable, if bittersweet, peace. You didn’t know what the future held. You didn’t know if this thing with Remy was destined to burn out as quickly as it had begun, or if it could turn into something lasting.

All you knew was that the more time you spent with him—whether it was through the phone, through late-night video calls, or in that breathless space between passion and vulnerability—the harder it became to guard your heart.

“You look tired,” you commented, your voice soft and muffled as you lay half-buried in your pillow, your body wrapped in the comforting warmth of your blankets. The glow of your phone screen illuminated your face, casting a soft light over the room, but all you could focus on was him—Remy, sitting there on the other end of the video call, his eyes heavy with exhaustion.

He paused, his gaze meeting yours through the screen, and for a moment, he didn’t say anything. Then he let out a soft chuckle, his lips curling into a familiar, crooked smile. “I am,” he admitted, running a hand through his tousled hair. “But as you always tell me, there’s no rest for the wicked.”

You smiled at that, a small, tired smile of your own, remembering how often you had teased him about his relentless schedule, about how he never seemed to stop moving. You licked your lips, your voice softening with concern. “You should get some sleep, Remy. Have you slept at all?” you asked, the worry clear in your tone.

He shook his head, his smile fading just slightly as he leaned back in his chair, his body visibly tense, though he tried to hide it. “Nah,” he said with a shrug, as if it were no big deal. “I’ve got to be up in a few hours anyway. Some interview with one of those late-night talk show things.” He watched as you shifted deeper inside your covers, your face barely visible now except for the soft glow of your eyes on the screen. His expression softened, and there was something else there too—something more vulnerable, more real. “But I wanted to run something by you anyway.”

Your interest piqued at that, and you pushed yourself up a little, propping your chin on your hand, your sleepy eyes fixing on him through the screen. “What is it?” you asked, your curiosity laced with a hint of anticipation.

Remy hesitated for a moment, his eyes flickering away from the camera as if he were gathering his thoughts, or maybe his courage. Then, with a quiet sigh, he looked back at you, the familiar teasing smile slipping back onto his lips, though there was a softness behind it. “We’ve got a few days off, and I was thinkin’...” He paused, his voice trailing off for a beat before he continued, “I was gonna fly there and come see y’.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, and you felt a small smile tug at the corners of your lips, the kind you couldn’t suppress even if you tried. It was one thing to talk to him on the phone every night, to share your moments through a screen—but the thought of him being here, in person, made something flutter inside your chest. You tried to keep your voice calm, but there was no hiding the excitement that slipped through. “For how many days?” you asked, though you already knew that his schedule probably wouldn’t allow for much.

He laughed softly, the sound warm and familiar, though there was a trace of weariness behind it. “Like… one and a half,” he said, shaking his head as if the idea itself was ridiculous. “Not much, I know. But I’d make the most of it.” His voice was playful, but there was a sincerity in his eyes that made your heart ache a little. “Wha’dya think?”

And then, suddenly, he went quiet. For a moment, the playful energy drained from his expression, replaced by something more cautious, more unsure. It was rare to see him like this—Remy, who was always so confident, so effortlessly charming. But now, he looked almost hesitant, as if he wasn’t sure how you’d react, as if he wasn’t sure if you’d want him to come at all.

The silence stretched between you, and you could feel the weight of his question hanging in the air. He was waiting for your answer, and for once, it felt like more than just a casual suggestion. There was something deeper behind it, something that made your chest tighten with both excitement and fear.

You let out a soft breath, your smile widening as you looked at him, your heart already knowing the answer before your mind could catch up. “I think,” you said slowly, your voice warm and teasing, “that you should come for a visit.”

For a split second, relief flashed across his face, followed by that familiar grin—the one that always made your heart skip a beat. “Yeah?” he asked, his voice lighter now, the tension melting away. “Even if it’s just for a day and a half?”

“Even if it’s just for a day and a half,” you confirmed, your voice soft but sure. “I’ll take whatever time I can get.”

He smiled at that, a genuine, almost boyish smile that made him look younger, softer. “Good,” he murmured, his voice low and full of warmth. “’Cause I’ve been missin’ you, cher. More than I should, probably.”

Your heart fluttered at his words, and you felt a warmth spread through your chest, a mixture of happiness and something else—something deeper that you weren’t quite ready to name yet. “I’ve missed you too,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper, but you knew he heard you.

For a moment, neither of you said anything, the silence between you comfortable, filled with the unspoken things that neither of you were ready to put into words just yet. But it was enough—just knowing that he wanted to see you, that he was willing to fly across the country just to spend a day and a half with you. It was enough to make you feel like maybe—just maybe—this thing between you was more than just a passing fling.

“Alright,” he said after a while, his voice soft but filled with a kind of determination. “I’ll book the flight tomorrow. And when I get there, I’m gonna make sure I make up for lost time.”

You smiled, your heart full as you snuggled deeper into your blankets. “I’ll hold you to that, LeBeau.”

“You better,” he teased, his grin widening. But as you both fell into a comfortable silence again, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something had shifted between you—that this wasn’t just another night of playful banter and teasing promises. This was real. This was something more.

A lazy smile crossed your face as you shifted slightly under your blankets, your phone propped up against your pillow. “So, where’re we gonna meet?” you asked, your voice light, teasing, though part of you was genuinely curious. The thought of seeing him in person again, after all the late-night calls and whispered conversations, sent a thrill through you that you couldn’t quite suppress.

Remy leaned back in his chair, his eyes narrowing slightly in that way they always did when he was thinking, the faintest hint of mischief already dancing behind them. He shrugged casually, his lips curling into a smirk as he stretched his arms behind his head. “We’ll figure it out,” he drawled, his voice smooth, that lazy Southern charm dripping from every word. “But I think we both know it don’t really matter where we meet, cher.” His gaze lingered on you through the screen, his eyes dark and intent. “It’s what happens after that, that’ll count.”

You felt a soft flutter in your chest at his words, warmth spreading through your body as your smile grew wider. You gave a small shrug, pretending to think it over for a moment. “Well, there’s not a lot to do around here,” you teased, your voice light but your mind already wandering to what could happen when you were finally in the same space again, without a screen between you.

Remy’s smirk deepened, his eyes flashing with a hint of something darker, something more playful. He leaned forward slightly, his voice dropping to that low, intimate tone that always made your heart race. “Y’r makin’ it sound like I’m gonna let you leave the hotel while I’m in town,” he murmured, his words slow and deliberate, each one sending a shiver down your spine.

Your breath caught for a moment, heat rising to your cheeks as you tried to suppress the grin that was threatening to break across your face. But it was no use. You leaned closer to the camera, your voice dropping to a soft, teasing whisper. “Is that a promise?” you asked, your heart pounding in your chest, though you kept your tone playful.

He chuckled softly, the sound low and rich, and you could hear the unspoken promise in it. “Oh, it’s more than a promise, cher.” His voice was velvet, the kind of smooth that wrapped around you and pulled you in, leaving you breathless. “I’ve got… some ideas. Things I’ve been thinkin’ ‘bout. Things I’ve been wantin’ to try.” He paused, letting the words linger in the air between you, his eyes watching you closely through the screen, gauging your reaction.

Your skin tingled at the suggestion, your pulse quickening with the anticipation that was building between you. You could feel the heat rising in your body, the way his words sent a thrill of excitement racing through you. It was the way he said it—so casual, so confident, like he already knew exactly what he wanted to do with you, and exactly how he was going to make it happen.

“Oh?” you breathed, your voice soft as you bit your lip, trying to play it cool even though your mind was already racing with possibilities. “Care to elaborate?”

Remy’s eyes darkened, his smirk widening as he leaned even closer to the camera, his face filling the screen. His voice dropped another octave, his words coming out slow and deliberate, each one sending a fresh wave of heat through you. “Let’s just say,” he began, his tone smooth, teasing, “I’ve been thinkin’ ‘bout how much I wanna take my time with you, cher. How much I wanna make up for all the nights we’ve spent apart.” He paused, his gaze intense, his voice softening even further. “I’ve got plans. And I promise y’... you won’t be leavin’ that bed anytime soon.”

Your heart pounded in your chest, your breath catching at his words. The way he said it, the way he looked at you through the screen—it was like he wasn’t just speaking about physical intimacy, but something deeper, something that made your skin tingle and your mind spin with possibilities. It was as if he was telling you that this wasn’t just about passion, but about the connection you’d been building, the intimacy that had grown between you, even from a distance.

You swallowed, your voice coming out a little more breathless than you intended. “You’ve really thought this through, huh?”

His grin softened, though the intensity in his gaze didn’t waver. “Oh, I’ve had plenty of time to think about it,” he said, his voice low and warm. “Every night we’ve talked, every time I’ve heard your voice, I’ve been thinkin’ ‘bout what I’d do when I finally got y’ in front of me again. And believe me, cher, I plan on takin’ my time.”

You shivered at his words, your entire body reacting to the promise in them, the way his voice curled around the syllables like a caress. The idea of finally being with him, of feeling his touch, of experiencing all the things he had hinted at during your late-night conversations—it was almost too much to think about.

But it wasn’t just the physical that drew you to him. It was the way he made you feel seen, the way he could shift from playful flirtation to something more serious, more intimate, without missing a beat. It was the way he spoke to you as if you were the only person in the world, the way he made you feel wanted, desired, in a way that went beyond just attraction.

And now, with the promise of seeing him again so close, you could feel that pull between you growing stronger, the anticipation building like a current of electricity that you couldn’t ignore.

You smiled, your voice soft as you replied, “Well… I guess I’ll just have to clear my schedule then.”

Remy chuckled, the sound low and rich, sending another shiver down your spine. “Good,” he murmured, his voice full of affection, though there was still that teasing edge beneath it. “’Cause once I get there, cher, I ain’t lettin’ you go.”

You grinned, your heart full as you curled deeper into your blankets. “I’m counting on it.”

And as you both fell into a comfortable silence, the weight of his words lingering in the air between you, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of warmth, of excitement, mixed with just a hint of nervousness. Because this wasn’t just another phone call, another night of teasing and playful banter. This was real. He was coming to see you. And when he arrived, everything between you would change.

But for the first time in a long time, you didn’t feel scared. You felt ready. <><><><>

Remy sat quietly, just watching you. The dim light from your phone screen illuminated your face, casting a soft glow over your features as you lay nestled under the covers. Your eyelids were heavy with sleep, but you were still trying to hold on to the conversation, your voice fading in and out with exhaustion. The day had clearly worn you down, and he could see it in the way your body slowly gave in, sinking deeper into the bed, your breathing becoming slower, more rhythmic.

He should’ve told you to go to sleep, to rest, but selfishly, he didn’t want to end the moment. He wanted to stay here, with you, for just a little longer.

There was something about these late-night (Or early morning for him) calls that always left him feeling unsettled—but not in a bad way. There was something about you that made him feel… different. He wasn’t sure when it had happened, but somewhere along the way, you had become more than just a voice on the other end of the line. You’d become a part of his day, a part of his routine. And, more dangerously, a part of his thoughts.

And that scared him more than anything else.

He sighed softly, his gaze still lingering on you as he reached for his guitar. His fingers found the strings instinctively, the familiar weight of the instrument settling in his lap like it always did.

He began to strum softly, the opening chords filling the quiet space between you. You recognized the song immediately—of course you did. He could see it in the way your face softened, a small, sleepy smile tugging at your lips as your eyes fluttered closed. This was one of your songs, one of those tracks you’d both talked about at length during long, late-night conversations. There was something about it that resonated with both of you, something unspoken and shared.

He hadn’t sung this song in a long time, and now, with you lying there, on the verge of sleep, the meaning behind the lyrics hit him in a way he hadn’t expected.

Because the truth was, he didn’t know how to navigate this. He wasn’t used to caring this much. He wasn’t used to letting someone in, especially someone like you—someone who didn’t fit into the chaos of his world.

You didn’t care about the fame. In fact, you hated it. He knew that about you. You’d talked about it before, how the idea of paparazzi, cameras, and flashing lights made your skin crawl. You were the kind of person who valued your solitude, your quiet life. You loved your little apartment with the garden bed out front, where you grew herbs and flowers, tending to them like they were your own private escape from the world. You’d once joked about the crack in the ceiling that drove you nuts, how you’d planned to fix it yourself, but never got around to it. It had become an inside joke between you, the crack that you swore had "character" and "personality."

You liked your anonymity. You liked being able to walk down the street without anyone noticing you, without anyone caring. You had your own space, your own life, and you cherished it.

And that’s where the problem was.

Remy’s life was the complete opposite. His world was all flashing lights, screaming fans, and relentless attention. There was no hiding, no escaping the cameras or the constant buzz of people wanting something from him. He couldn’t disappear into the background, couldn’t just enjoy a quiet moment in a small apartment without the risk of someone snapping a photo or leaking details to the press. His life wasn’t built for the kind of peace you cherished.

And that terrified him. Because how could he ask you to be a part of that? How could he drag you into the chaos of his world when he knew how much you valued your privacy, your independence? Remy felt the familiar tug in his chest. He knew that his feelings for you had already grown deeper than he’d anticipated. He hadn’t meant for it to happen, but it had. You’d become important to him, in a way that scared him because it made him vulnerable.

He watched you as your breathing slowed, your body sinking deeper into the mattress. You were asleep now, completely relaxed, your face so peaceful, so content. And yet, you still wore that small, faint smile, the one that made his heart ache in ways he couldn’t quite explain.

But that thought—the thought of pulling away, of protecting himself from the heartbreak that could come with letting you in—came with its own set of problems. Because the truth was, he didn’t want to pull back. He didn’t want to protect himself.

He didn’t want to lose this. He didn’t want to lose you.

His fingers moved effortlessly over the strings, but his mind was somewhere else entirely. He thought about all the times you’d joked about your quiet life, about how you loved your little apartment, your garden, your anonymity. And as much as he loved hearing you talk about it, a part of him always felt a pang of guilt. Because if this—whatever this was between you—kept growing, he knew he’d be pulling you into a world that was the opposite of everything you valued.

For a long time, he just sat there, watching you sleep, his thoughts a tangled mess of emotions he wasn’t sure how to handle. He hadn’t planned for this. He hadn’t planned for you. But now, you were here, in his life, and he couldn’t imagine it without you.

But how could he move forward? How could he let himself care about you the way he wanted to, knowing that his life would inevitably pull you into the spotlight, into a world you didn’t want to be a part of? The more he thought about it, the more he realized just how complicated things could become.

Yet, every time he considered pulling back, distancing himself to protect both of you from the chaos and the heartbreak, he hesitated.

Because the truth was, he didn’t want to lose you.

He didn’t know the answer yet. He didn’t know how to make this work, how to bridge the gap between his world and yours. But as he looked at you now, sleeping peacefully with that faint smile still lingering on your lips, one thing was clear: he wasn’t ready to let you go.

And before he could stop himself, he whispered the opening line of the song, barely loud enough for even him to hear

"So lately, been wonderin'... Who will be there to take my place…When I’m gone….You’ll need love….to light the shadows on your face…"

95 notes · View notes