Bed. Now.

Per the drama as I grieve the man I thought he was and wake the fuck up to reality… fic writing is postponed for a week or so.

I am tired girlies! And I cant write genuinely when I have the ick about a grown ass man hanging around Miss Teen Portugal and her fatphobic, racist overall musty looking sidekicks.

My thoughts? He needs to get it the fuck together hope momma Lisa slaps him across his smug ass looking face so he wakes the fuck up. At this stage, his chances with me have dropped to 58% and pending - I’m too hot and smart. 💅🏼

Xo

Clover 🍀💕

Wow i'm glad you do. For Nick Vaughan i want to ask for a fluff. (i never say no to smutt by the way :) ) Reader came from another country to new york. They met while reader is walking at the city at night. They start dating and fall so hard for each other. They decide to movie in in a small apartment which is a safe, sweet home to both. The first one that they have❤

Also, a request that is deserving of multiple parts! 🥰

Nick Vaughan X Reader Series

Take Me Home | Part 1: Meet Cute

A/N: Ooft... did this take a while! I am so sorry for the delay for my love @atoosa22 but i hope you enjoy the first part of what is sure to be a very fluffy (and soon to be smutty) series. ☘️😘

“Yeah mom, of course, uh-huh... yeah I’m heading home now… yes… it’s freezing here.” You pulled your keys out of the lock of your workplace, holding your phone between your shoulder and cheek as you listened to your mothers worries and concerns knowing she stood halfway across the world powerless while you were alone in the big city.

But there was no such thing as being alone in New York, all the sounds, the lights, the people. It never slept. But you certainly did.

3am and all you could think about is your nice, warm fluffy bed at home.

“Yeah mom, ok well I gotta go… I love you have a good day!”

You hung up, slipping your phone into your pocket. Tightening your coat around you, noticing the misty cloud that appeared when you breathed out. Fiddling with your keys in your hand, manoeuvring the teeth of the metal between your knuckles (just in case).

It was a 20-minute walk back to your apartment. What could happen in the 20-minute direct route to your apartment? 20 blocks. 20 minutes. Head forward. Shoulders back. One foot in front of the other.

Stragglers lined the street; sleeping homeless people, drunk patrons who have called it a night and a few bold individuals walking their dog.

You’re not alone. Never in New York.

You reached block 12 of your journey. With the building above it under construction a makeshift tunnel of plasterboard and wooden beams was your path. Poorly lit by a singular low functioning flood light above but with the rest of the street cut off, it was your only option.

The sound of your boots on the floor was drowned out by the sound of drunk male laughter. “Not every drunk man is a bad man” you thought as you followed the sound hoping to make it to the other side unfazed.

The tunnel was narrow, and the group of men took up most of the path, leaning against the walls, huddled in a group. Taking in a shaky breath you approached them, eager to pass without being perceived.

“Hey pretty girl where you going?” Mission failed as the man snarled at you. You bowed your head, suddenly becoming interested in the tips of your shoe that was until the presence of another matched you toe to toe.

He had blocked your path, forcing you to look up. “Hey when a man’s talking to you, you respond.” His voice was louder this time, agitated. You had heard it many times before in men. Angry men. Men who always got their way by force.

You clenched your fist around your keys, feeling the keychain make indents on your skin. The man had an audience, and he wasn’t going to relent.

“Why don’t you smile a little…” His hand edged towards your face but shot away suddenly at an echo from behind you.

“Baby hey why you walking so fast!” A man came up beside you, wrapping his hand tightly around your waist.

“Excuse me guys.” He gave a firm shoulder nudge towards the man in front of you, pushing him the side. Frozen in fear you let him lead you towards the exit.

You both walked in silence to the next block, far gone from the narrow tunnel.

“Thank you.” You finally let out.

“Oh, foreign that explains it.” He mutters. The fear in your body had now left, replaced with annoyance.

“What’s that supposed to me?” You pushed out of his grip around your waist. Now face to face with the man who technically saved your life.

He looked down on you, while a little wayward in appearance, he was tall and handsome a scruffy beard curving around a strong jaw. Even with layers he looked as though he packed a decent bit of muscle, enough to push your average creep down if needed.

“It means anyone whose actually from New York knows that when you look like that you shouldn’t be walking around it at 3am.” He spits, cocking his head to side in a condescending manner.

“For your information, I’ve done that walk many times since I moved here and that has never happened. And since when is it a woman’s responsibility to reconfigure their whole lives so creepy assholes don’t have a chance to take advantage of them?”

“That’s not what I meant.” He pinched his eyebrow in frustration.

“Well thank you for very much again and I hope you enjoyed your knight in shining armour moment.” You continued to walk, leaving behind your handsome saviour.

“Hey wait.” He jogged up behind you. You stopped in the middle of the sidewalk.

“God you do walk fast don’t ya?” His joke was met with your scowl.

“Let me at least walk you the rest of the way home?”

“Oh so you can know my address and then break in and kill me?” You scoffed.

“I would of been happy with a cup of thank you coffee.” He rubbed his neck, smirking at you.

“I don’t even know your name and you want to come back to my apartment?” You looked at him like he had two heads.

“Well, it’s Nick, and if that’s not good enough its Nick Vaughan born 14th of June 1981. Professional failing trumpet player, full time adored son, part time knight in shining armour, and my social security number is 79-.”

You put your hand up to stop him “Ok ok I get it you’re not a murderer.”

“Hey you cut me off at the best part!”

“Oh really?”

“I’m also the guy who makes sure a pretty girl who just had to deal with a drunken creep gets home safe.”

You pursed your lips inward to hide the smile threatening to come up as he called you pretty.

“Fine.” You let out.

“Wait a minute…” He stepped closer, holding out his pointer “What if you’re…” His finger threatening to push past your coat and touch the exposed skin of your chest. “The murderer.”

“Y/N, foreigner, passport holder of [your country], professionally [dream job] but also full time, loving daughter and occasional victim of drunken creeps.”

He thought for a moment, looking up at the skyscraper above him “Yeah that checks out.”

He held out his elbow, edging you to thread your hand in it. You looked at his arm in confusion.

“You’re cold I promise it’ll make you feel better.”

You were cold and his strong arm was inviting and with your limited experience of his arms around you, you knew that you liked it and it wouldn’t hurt to be able to savour the feeling this time. You begrudgingly slid your hand through.

Nick: “Is it rude to ask why you are walking home this late?”

Y/N: “Pushing it but if you must know I was closing at work.”

Nick: “Alone? They make you do it alone?” His voice laced with concern.

Y/N: “I’m not 15 so yes, they make me, an adult women close up shop at the end of the day.”

Nick: “Remind me not to start questioning the independence of a clearly very strong-minded woman.”

Y/N: “You learn quick, too bad you seem to be 30 years too late.”

Nick: “3 sisters, so excuse the natural instincts.”

Y/N: “Fair enough.”

Nick: “How do you drink coffee from where you’re from?”

Y/N: “In a mug.”

Nick: “Funny.”

Y/N: “I know. Now my turn.”

Nick: “Shoot.”

Y/N: “Why are you walking alone this late?”

Nick: “I’m a musician.”

Y/N: “Yes, but not a vampire so…”

Nick: “Most gigs are at night as well as drunk people are more likely to give up their cash.”

Y/N: “So, you’re a hustler?”

Nick: “I prefer the term opportunist.” He smirked at you.

“This is me.” You motioned towards the front step of your building.

“It’s pretty late-”

“I should let you go-”

You looked at each other, letting out soft laughter.

"Thanks for walking me home. I guess I owe you that cup of thank you coffee."

Nick grinned. "I'll hold you to that. How about tomorrow morning?"

"Sure, why not?" you replied, surprised by your own eagerness.

"But you're buying, you know struggling musician and all."

"Fine.”

"Goodnight, [Your country]."

“Goodnight, Nick.”

As he walked away, you couldn't help but feel a flutter in your stomach. Opening the door to your apartment, your back hitting the door as you slid to the ground, grinning like an idiot.

Y’all some of these requests I’m getting… I’m gonna be in a meeting with my boss, my tumblr up on the screen, sitting there like:

Mama Lisa 👀// What did she do?

oh my gawd!!! I miss you so much!!! Question, i know you got the ick but will you only write CE'S characters only

First sooo much love made me think of this

If ya know ya know…

I’m going through a period of separating a persons public persona from who they are and their actions. It’s a huge comfort having videos of him from 2013/2014 and I don’t think anyone is too far from redemption.

So in saying that, no but I’m still not ready to write yet. Thank you for your patience 💕💕

A request where Chris Evans meet Robert Downey Jr. Tomboy Little sister, reader Downey, who works as a hair stylist and make-up stylist. He asked her out but she says no. 2nd time no in a bar and third time yes during the avengers endgame is a wrap

This is a brilliant request but... I feel like it can only be done well in a series. 🧐

 Soooo, I’m happy to announce...

Coming Soon:

Third Times A Charm: A Chris Evans X Reader Series

i was reading again and want to say well done. all parts are very well written. love the conversation in part two. any plan for writing for those two more?

Hey lovely! Which story is this 💕

What about chubbish and kind reader getting criticized for dating the world's sexiest man of 2022, she felt upset and cries. Chris felt angry at the people who doesn't know about his girlfriend

Sexist Girl Alive (Curvy!Reader)

A.N/WARNING: Screenshots are obvi fake, TW for fatphobia, slurs, people being mean ☹️ but happy ending, photos arent mine (mwah pinterest)

You smiled at the photo of you two, dressed up before a night out. Chris lips lovingly on your cheeks as you smiled happily. You thought you looked great in your new skin tight dress. Sure it showed a few insecurities but you hoped the black would hide it. Your makeup and hair was all done up and Chris couldn’t stop loving on you all night.

You chuckled at the sweet yet corny caption. He would never live it down - would he? You shook your head, grinning like an idiot. 

Fighting your better instinct, you went through the comments, chewing your thumb nail as you eyes laid on the key words:

“Fat” 

“Cow” 

“She takes up the whole mirror.” 

“It should be illegal for someone like her to wear a dress like that”

“Chris Evans is legally blind if he thinks she’s sexy”

You licked the taste of salty tears that had landed on your upper lip. You took a shaky breathe out as you quickly wiped away the tears that were forming. You felt pathetic, crying about what a bunch of nobody’s had to say about your body. They were jealous, they didn’t know you, they were protective of their internet boyfriend - your mind ran through all the reasons for such vile comments but that still didn’t stop the feeling of sadness and inadequacy that ran through you. 

That was until a wet little nose landed on your cheek, paw pushing the phone away from your face. 

“Would you look at that you found mama- baby what’s wrong?” Chris came in, catching your tear stained cheeks and red, watery eyes.

“The um… instagram you posted you-“ You were hiccuping, anxiously patting Dodgers coat. Too embarrassed to meet his eyes, firmly focused on the Instagram comments that were now blurry. 

“I didn’t post your nudes did I?!” His face full of concern that he had pulled another, much worse, social media blunder. 

“No.” You left out a shaky faux laugh 

“You left comments on and well some people aren’t very nice.” 

“Show me right now.” His jaw went tight and his expression changed to pure disgust and anger.

You handed him the phone, digging your face into Dodgers coat, drying your tears.

Chris’s eyes scanned the comments, jaw tightening as he grounded his teeth. 

“That’s it.” He throw the phone next him, making his way up in a frenzy.

“Chris it’s not a big deal I’m just emotional.”

“It is a fucking big deal.” He raised his voice now, running his hands through his hair in frustration. Chris wasn’t an angry person, rarely getting upset but when you were involved; people better run.

It perplexed him everyday how he thinks he landed the most beautiful woman in the world yet people want to pick apart something as stupid as your weight.

Chris wasn’t blind at all, he was  engrossed and obsessed with every curve, every roll, every stretch mark, every sag. He loved them all.

He couldn’t get enough of grabbing your belly whenever he could, even in public. His hand without fail always travelled from your waist to your pudge, slowly stroking the skin or the fabric - it relaxed him.

Or at home when he’d forgo your ass and instead just grab a roll and jiggle it in his hands, fuck, in his mind it was a bonus to your ass, more skin he could fondle and touch and enjoy, more ways to get a whole body ripple out of you.

Or in the morning before you’d wake up when he’d slowly trace your stretch marks, adoring the way they looked like tiger stripes he felt like they were a natural piece of art on your body.

The way your thighs would wrap tightly around his head, a built in pillow for him to rest on while he traced your body with his hands, following the natural trail created by your curves.

How every hug felt soft and warm as you pressed your plump body up against him, he would get so frustrated that he couldn’t grab every single part of you all at once and just squeeze but a hug was the closest thing.

He didn’t think pure beauty existed until he saw you for the first time, he remembers the way he jaw fell agape slightly and his eyes widened desperate to touch you, desperate to have you in his bed every night. 

You were his now and he wasn’t going to let some bullshit comments take that away from him.

To take the spark and light out of you, to push you down to a place where you felt you were anything but incredible.

You body wasn’t just a wonderland but the home for the soul in which he adored, his kind, intelligent, resilient, witty, outspoken, well read and highly cultured, drop dead gorgeous woman.

The purity of you being so authentically yourself was sacred to him and he was fiercely protective of you for that.

He dreaded the day the comments got too much and he cringed at the thought of you changing any part of the woman he met for some fucking comments. It wouldn’t happen. Not on his watch.

“You can’t just- you can’t fucking say those things about someone! I mean we go back 200 fucking years and there’s your body in fucking oil paintings around castles and here we are now where your accomplishments, your personality, your kindness, your fucking beauty is just completely shitted on.”

“I dealt with it way before I started dating you.” 

“Well it ends now.” He said crouching down in front of you as you sat curled into a ball on the couch. 

His eyes had softened and he was desperate for you to meet his. Wanting to assure you with everything he had that this meant nothing to him. 

“Baby you know I don’t agree with those comments right. Fuck, you remember how much I couldn’t keep my hands off you that night.”

“And every night before.” You snorted 

He gave you a soft smile, happy you were back to making jokes “Exactly.” 

“It’s my fault I should of turned comments off but we shouldn’t have to do that. I’m going to write something and that should be the end of it.” 

“We shouldn’t react that’s what they want.” You said wearily.

“In no world is that going to be said about you and I just sit back and let it happen. Absolutely not. Now come on, let’s get you in the bath.”

You sunk into the steaming water as the smell of lavender and rose filled your nose and muscles you didn’t realise you were tensing finally relaxed. Repeating mantras of self assurance in your head with the distant sound of Chris scurrying around the bedroom and his muffled voice on the phone. 

 Getting out and into your robe after an hour you made your way into the bedroom, finding an exhausted Chris waiting for you on the bed.

“Come here I wanna show you something.” He tapped the spot next to him, inviting you to snuggle against his chest as he got out his phone.

You rolled your eyes, sighing as you got comfortable. 

“Read.” He said sternly, putting his phone into your hand.

You brushed the tears forming in your eyes from happiness. Two things you could always count on with Chris is his ability to make you the happiest person alive and his passion. Combine them and you’re a babbling mess of gratitude and love. Pulling his head down towards you, peppering kisses all over his face and whispering thank you against his lips. 

“Don’t thank me come on now.”

“It was very well said.”

“Yeah well we won’t need this for awhile.” He grabbed his phone from you, throwing it down the bed as he fell off the edge, landing with a small thump.

“Come here sexy, I wanna love on my girl.” You giggled as his beard brushed against your neck as he left wet soppy kisses down your body, untieing your robe to get your unfiltered body in all its glory. 

Chris’s comments created a storm of support, bringing up a conversation of why a woman’s body is ever a topic of concern and the high expectations of male celebrity partners to look a certain way. 

And months down the line he still stood by them. Stating in an interview:

“I don’t think I have ever been more furious than when I read those comments. You know you have this beautiful, intelligent partner and you’re both in this happy little bubble of love and admiration and then these strangers, randoms on the internet just start attacking them for all the things you love about them. It’s like a kick in the gut. I felt so guilty like it was my fault because she didn’t ask to be famous or anything and it’s not easy to give that privacy and anonymity up to follow your heart but she did it anyways and all she was met with was horrible comments. Man, I was so scared that was going to be it for her and I’d never see her again. It just felt like people don’t realise that’s a real person, we are real people and if you wouldn’t say that to someone’s face then why comment it where they can see? She didn’t deserve that at all and I was going to do everything in my power to make sure it never happened again. She means the world to me, I’d do anything to protect her. I’m just lucky I get to wake up to her everyday and she’s this strong, resilient person who can’t be knocked down easily.”

Oh oh! What about Chris Evans finds out that he is going to be a dad for the first time!!!!!

Bubba

A/N: Dad Chris kills me. Enjoy 💕☘️

You hand fell to your mouth in a gasp as you eyed the little blue line on the stick in front of you. Tears well in your eyes. You were pregnant. 

Chris and you had been trying for months, it was a lot of good sex but also a lot of “maybe next month.” In anticipation of the red line. You and Chris were looking into IVF and were going to enquire about it next month. No matter what it took, you both were going to make sure you had the first of many babies. 

It couldn’t have come at a better time, with Chris due to arrive home from filming tomorrow night and you knew the perfect way to tell him.

“Honey I’m home.” He sung out as you heard the sound of a roller bag and jangling keys. 

You jumped from your seat in the living, Dodger, on your lap, tail wagging with excitement. 

Dodger hadn’t left your side since Chris left, 2 weeks ago. Sure, he was always cuddly and cute, but he wouldn’t stop following you around and would whine whenever you’d leave the house or go to the bathroom. Something told you; he knew even before you did. 

You pulled out the plastic wrapped test from behind you. 

“Hold, good boy.” The pup delicately grabbed the stick in his mouth. 

“Dodger stays, ok honey?” You whispered to the pup. Making your way out to the entryway to meet Chris. 

“There’s my girl.” Chris pulled you into a dramatic kiss, your back arching to give him more access to your mouth.

“How you feeling?”

“Pretty good, you?”

“Happy to be home so I can snuggle my favourite girl and-.”

His head shot up in curiosity, he pinged the lack of puppy excitement, no dog nails clacking on the floorboards. 

“Dodger… where are you buddy?”

With the sound of his dad’s voice booming through the house, Dodger came bulldozing into the foyer.

“Hey buddy, hey hey! I’m home.” Chris let you go, crouching down to meet his furry friend.

“Hey what you got there? That a new toy?” Chris grabbed the plastic from the dog’s mouth, unwrapping its tight seal to figure out what the hell was underneath.

“What the hell is this, Y/N, did you-“  

You could see the gears in his head turning as he registered the stick in front of him, blue cap and white long body, he had seen one of these before, plenty of times in the last month but one thing made this particular test different. Two sharp red lines. 

“No way.” He whispered.

“No fucking way.” You stood off to the side, hands nervously fidgeting as Dodger, unaware of what was going on, thrashed his head between the two of you wondering if he had done a good job.

Chris finally looked up to face you, eyes already becoming red and watery at the news.

“You’re pregnant.”

“Well, yes, but I haven’t gone to the doctors yet but I did it yesterday and I didn’t want- OMG.” Not letting you finish, Chris pulled you into him, lifting you off the ground.

“We are gonna be parents! We are gonna be parents! We are gonna be parents!” He jumped around with you in his arms ecstatic at the news. 

Promptly falling out of his haze of excitement into dad mode;

“Oh my god! Wait you’re pregnant sorry… sorry… sorry little bean, you, ok? That was, ok? Do you need to sit down? Was I too rough?” His arms falling softly to your waist, inching towards your soft stomach, eyes filled with concern.

“I’m ok haha I’m only a couple of weeks according to the test.”

Pulling you into his arms, his hand falling to stroke your hair. 

“Jesus, I knew you looked more beautiful than when I last saw you but wow you’ve just made me the happiest guy in the world Y/N, I’m going to be a dad… finally.” 

He choked up at the final statement, all he had ever wanted was right in his arms at this very moment and he didn’t know whether to cry from joy or continue jumping from excitement. 

You cranked your head up to look at him, smiling with glee at his reaction. “I wouldn’t want to do this with anyone but you.” You said, earnestly. 

“You. Are going to be an amazing mom.” He beamed at you, seriousness laced in his voice, believing every word he spoke. 

“Thanks baby… Doctor’s appointment is Friday, it’s not an ultrasound just a test to confirm.”

“I still want to go. Every appointment, baby shop, birthing class, private doula… whatever you need from this moment on I will be there.” 

“I don’t think I could do it without you there, I’m beside myself with nerves.”

“You’ll be a natural… have you told ya ma?”

“No, you’re the first person to know… besides Dodger, little bubbas hasn’t stop following me around.”

“Good boy, keeping bubba safe.” Dodger beamed at the praise he so desperately needed from his master.

“Do you want to tell people yet or wait? Up to you honey.” Chris stroked your arm, lovingly. 

You couldn’t help but appreciate how selfless he was about it all. You know the next 9 months that if you said jump, he’d say how high.

“I kinda want to just stay in this little bubble for a bit… all 4 of us you know? To be sure.”

“Sounds perfect my dear.” He planted a kiss on your lips, then crouched down.

“I love you already.” He whispered on your clothed belly, placing a delicate kiss as you ran your hands through his hair. 

Can I get a sweet fluffy Andy like anything Andy no Laurie (I ignore she exists anyway lol) but sweet Andy couple stuff

Yes! Yes! Yes! Hope this is exactly what you needed angel. ✨💕

What to Wear

Summary: You cant find a shirt that fits but Andy's always there to help. BigChested!Reader X Andy Barber

Warnings: Fluff

Too tight. Too loose. Too small. Too… awkward.

You huffed in mirror, trying to find a top for your date night with your boyfriend, Andy.

“Honey you ready yet?” Shit, he was going to find you in the wardrobe, a sweaty mess with clothes thrown everywhere.

“Just a second!”

You could feel the tears forming in your eyes from frustration. Nothing fit over your chest properly and you simply just wanted to look classy and cute for your date, but your only choices were Hooters waitress or Grandma muumuu.

“Honey, is something wrong… I’m going to come in, okay?” the door slid open to Andy with a look of concern on his face. He looked gorgeous as ever in a button up with the sleeves rolled up, his take on casual was taking off his tie and rolling up his sleeves after work and God did it look good on him.

“Oh, baby what’s all this?” He looked at you slouched down in the chair, in the only comfortable lace black bra you own, clothes and hangers strewn over the floor. You covered your face with your handing hoping he wouldn’t pick up on your tear-stained cheeks.

“Nothing fits Andy! Nothing unless you want to take out Pamela Anderson...” You pulled up the red bodysuit that was barely a top and more loke a thin piece of fabric. “…Or Paula Dean!” in your other hand the overly floral button up that looked like a sack on you, was far too big and managed to cover any sign of curves on your body.

He moved closer crouching down at the chair in front of you “Well if its ok with you, I’d like to take you out and I don’t mind what you’re wearing now.” He traced a finger over the lace covering your breast.

“This is a bra, Andy!”

“Well, it’s a very nice bra.” He inched his face, putting his palm on your cheek washing away any residue of tears.

“Hey, I don’t care what you wear, I know what you look like, and I love you… hell I think you look good in one of my shirts – why don’t you try one of them on?”

You had worn Andy’s button ups before around the house from time to time. The expensive shirt was soft against your skin and the buttons didn’t gape over your chest.

Andy hopped up and started sifting through the racks of shirts, pulling out an off white slim fit button up.

“I’m no fashion stylist but this will go with your jeans… try it on.”

You were hesitant but took the shirt from him, his eyes never leaving yours as you slowly pulled it across your shoulders. Your arms weren’t tight within the fabric as they usually catered to Andy’s large biceps.

“Here let me help.” He buttoned up the shirt starting from the bottom, one by one, grazing the skin of your stomach ever so softly.

“I think it’d look better without the bra but that’s just me.” He smirked

Bra-less was not an option for you given the fact your breast weren’t naturally perky but it warmed your heart that he didn’t care.

“Ok let me finish it off” Once the last button was done showing a hint of cleavage, you tucked once side into your jeans and zipped them up. Readjusting the gold necklace Andy got you for your birthday so the pendant sat in the valley of your chest.

You finally got a good look of yourself. You looked amazing.

Andy came up behind you as you admired your figure in the mirror, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his chin on your shoulder.

“I think it looks better on you.” He whispered in your ear lips grazing your lobe, eyes never leaving the reflection of you two in the mirror.

You smiled at yourself in the mirror for the first time in months.

“I think we should leave now before I decide I want you to myself for the rest of the night.” Andy’s grip tightened around your waist as he turned you around to face him.

“Ok let’s go.” With a quick kiss on his lips, you finally found something to wear. As well as a new favourite shirt.