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averytiredfanfictionwriter · 3 years

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Clan (Technoblade x demon!reader, Philza x demon!reader)

Word count- 2,210 Content Warnings- none that I can think of Ao3 link- right here.

My first post back in a while. I’m sorry about the absence to whoever might care- a lot of things popped up in my personal life that stressed me out, on top of my graduation fast approaching. But I’m back now, and this might not be the Karl or Ranboo fic that was promised, it is at least something. Those will both be coming within a week or two, I just need to finish up some stuff and then edit them. So follow if you want to see when I post those, or just reply on this post saying that you want to be tagged when I do post them. Enjoy! Reblogs are appreciated, as well as likes. So if you could just do both, that would mean the world to me!

Techno’s used to being alone. He lived the first hundred years of his life that way- until he met Phil. And then Phil left. And he was alone again.

But when he met Y/n, that all changed. He never had to worry about being alone again. Immortals are rare, and meeting another one is even rarer, but the two were inseparable. She never disclosed where she was from, or what the tattoos of strange runes on her body meant, and Techno knew better than to pry into matters that didn’t concern him, but he couldn’t help but wonder what she was thinking about as she stared out the window with her eyes clouded over and memories of a past time playing in her mind.

When Phil came back, it was easy for the pair to fit him back into their lives. Even though Y/n had never met him before it was as if they’d known each other for centuries before then. The three easily settled into a calm daily routine and when they returned to their own houses in the little community they’d created for just them at night, they fell asleep having forgotten what life was like before they’d met.

The three gods never worried about what would happen when they were found. After all, they’re immortal. They’ve lived to see the rise and fall of countries, rulers, and everything else. Them of all people know that nothing is permanent. But none ever stopped to consider that what they had wasn’t permanent.

It started when Techno woke up in the morning. The arctic always lent itself to freezing mornings but this one felt colder than the others. It could be because he had expected to wake up with Y/n and Phil next to him on the couch, and was surprised that they would go back to their own houses. But it was much more than that- even if Techno couldn’t have known.

Phil and Techno looked in silence for any trace of Y/n around their community when the sun hit the middle of the sky and she still hadn’t shown her face. Any places she might have gone off to in search of quiet or a place to nap. But that didn’t appear to be the case and their search turned up empty and in vain.

Techno retreated into himself. He found the note she’d left when he and Phil returned from their search and he didn’t say anything, instead heading down to the basement in his small house and shutting himself in to work on ‘very important stuff’ as he told Phil. Phil didn’t believe him- Techno wasn’t exactly quiet in expressing the emotions he felt about Y/n leaving.

Phil wasn’t quite as emotional as Techno. He was more than two hundred years older than the pink-haired man. He was used to the constant ebbing and flowing of life, of the appearance and then disappearance of people. That’s not to say it didn’t hurt, but he knew that it’s the way of life. People come, and then they go. To stop it would be to disregard the nature of humans as a whole.

He was a little surprised when Techno came back up at the end of the night and, while silent, had refused to acknowledge that she’d even existed there in the first place. He ignored the building next to his where she’d slept and kept her belongings. Whenever Phil tried to bring her up, Techno would shut out the conversation and pretend he hadn’t heard him. It wasn’t healthy, and Phil couldn’t blame him because he was still young but he just wished he wouldn’t be so heartbroken to the point of refusing to acknowledge that she ever existed in the first place.

This went on for months. Almost a whole year had passed and the building that contained Y/n’s belongings went untouched. All the delicate keepsakes from past adventures, photos of strangers that neither of the men dared ask about, and the bookshelves lining almost every wall and so full of books from all over the world- it all gathered dust. Until finally she came back.

Phil almost didn’t recognize her at first. The tired weariness evident in the dark circles under her eyes and the dragging of her footsteps, but everything else was the same. The dark hair on her head now long enough to braid- much to his excitement- and the multitudes of runes covering her body, with the additions of quite a few now. One of the newest things though is the several piercings and jewelry that she’s wearing. The most prominent of which is the chain hanging around her neck, a medium-sized precious stone of unknown origin hanging off of it.

“Y/n…” Phil said, dropping the wood he held in her arms in favor of running over and embracing her.

She hugs him back, the feeling almost foreign to her now. But now that she’s back, she doesn’t intend on forgetting it again.

“Where’s Techno? I need to talk to you both.” Y/n mumbles into Phils' shoulder, and for a minute he feels the cold flush of fear at the thought of her leaving again.

“He’s inside his house. Here, I’ll take you there.” Phil can’t help but feel like he’s showing around a visitor. The community has changed quite a bit since she’d last been there but the dread-filled feeling that he gets at the thought of her leaving again, coming back to say that she’s leaving and never returning, is more than he could take.

“Techno. Where are you?” Phil calls out as he enters the house and the chill of the room makes him shiver.

“Downstairs.” A gruff voice calls back, followed by a grunt of frustration.

“Well, can you come upstairs real quick? We have a visitor.” The word is bitter on his tongue and the look that flashes quickly across Y/n’s face makes him wish he’d chosen a better wording.

“Fine.” The ladder creaks and then Techno is peeking his head through the hole that leads down the basement.

“Y/n. What are you doing here?” It’s not entirely a question, and Y/n winces at Techno’s harsh tone. “Why are you back now? What, was living out there not as good as you thought it was? Well, you can leave. We don’t want you back here. We’re doing just fine on our own.”

Y/n feels destroyed. She didn’t expect Techno to react positively to her return, but she didn’t expect this.

“Can I just tell you why I left?” She asks, and Techno snorts.

“Sure. Go ahead. Lay on us this wonderful reason.” Techno’s voice drips with sarcasm.

“There were some people I needed to find- had to find.” She says and Techno laughs.

“Really. That’s your reason. You had to go find some people so you left for ten months. You didn’t even think to tell us in person, instead, you just left a note. Hell, you could have taken us with you. We would have happily gone with you. I would have happily gone with you. I’d have done anything for you. But it appears that the feeling wasn’t mutual, since you barely bothered to leave a half-assed note telling us.” Techno shouts, having climbed fully into the room and stood towering over the girl.

“You don’t understand. This was not a trip you could have made. Neither of you would have been able to!” Y/n shouts back.

Phil backs away, settling into the couch on the other side of the room.

“What do you mean, I don’t understand. I understand perfectly. You abandoned us. You abandoned me. Well, you know what, I don’t want you back here. You need to leave. Get your things and leave. Right now.” Techno says and it feels like Y/n was just punched in the gut.

“What? Techno you’re not serious?” Phil’s astonished. Of everything he thought Techno would say to Y/n, this wasn’t one of them.

“Yeah, I am. Now get out.” Philza protests and Techno starts yelling at him as he tries to shove her out of the house.

“My clan was killed! I had to find their bodies!” She shouts out over the two men and Techno stops pushing her.

“Clan?” He asks and Phil stares at her blankly.

“You’re a demon?” He asks and Techno looks back and forth between the two.

“Part demon, yes. My clan was killed and I had to find them. I needed to know who was left. And… I’m now the leader of a clan that doesn’t exist anymore. They were all dead.” Her voice breaks at the end of her sentence, and the sorrow overwhelms her. She’d done a good job on the trip there and back of not crying, of ignoring what happened. But saying it out loud makes it real, and something inside her snaps with those words.

Suddenly the runes tattooed on her and the amount of gold jewelry she’s wearing makes sense to Phil.

“Hey, it’s okay.” Techno pulls her into his arms protectively.

Phil stands from the couch and joins them. The combined warmth of the other two hybrids is almost too much to bear, but Philza hugs them anyways. Y/n’s sobbing continues for a little longer, but soon it turns into muffled sniffles and the shaking of her body calms a little bit.

“It’s up to me now to find a new clan. Custom is that I have to either join one or find others to form one with. I don’t think I’ll be able to stay here. Most of them require you to live with the group.” Y/n whispers as she pulls away from the hug.

“No. I won’t let you leave. Not for a second time.” Techno says stubbornly, and Y/n shakes her head.

“I don’t have a choice.”

“Yes, you do. We’ll be your new clan. Even if you can’t give us the jewelry of your brothers and sisters like tradition dictates, we can still be your clan. Technically your clan doesn’t have to be other demons.” Phil smiles at her. Techno doesn’t know why Phil would know that, but he doesn’t question his knowledge either way. Phil’s lived a long life before he and Y/n came into the picture.

“You guys would do that?” She asks and he nods his head eagerly.

“Of course. We were already really close before- nothing’s going to be changing.”

“Yeah. What do we have to do to join your clan?” Techno asks.

“Well, we basically have to get married to each other. It’s really just an unbreakable promise to stay with each other and protect each other until we die. Soooo… forever. Are you guys sure this is what you want? Because once we do this we can’t go back.” Y/n looks at them in worry.

“Yes. We both want this. You belong here with us. Life was horrible without you here. I had to deal with Phil all alone. The full force of his attention was on me. It was a never-ending nightmare.” Technos voice is dry as he delivers the joke and Y/n laughs as Phil protests.

“Hey. You forget that I was equally as stuck with you. It’s not easy when you live with a piglin who never gets cold and forgets that not everyone is as lucky as him.” Phil says and Techno mimics his words.

“Whatever you say, old man. But Y/n, I’m a hundred percent serious about joining your clan. I never want to let you go again.” Techno says into Y/n’s shoulder.

“Yeah, it was so quiet without you here mate. And cold. So, so cold.” Phil wraps his wings around the two human furnaces and holds them close.

Even though he’s more than two hundred years older than the pair and knows the reality of life- that eventually they’ll get bored of each other or tired and leave- he finds himself wanting to never let go.

“Here, hold out your hands,” Y/n tells them as she pulls out of the hug.

The two men do so without hesitation, and Y/n places a ring in each of their hands. They’re heavy, made of an unknown metal to most who walk the earth and they’re burning hot to the touch as if they were just forged and taken out of the fire.

“But… you’re not supposed to?” Phil says and the woman shakes her head.

“It doesn’t matter if my clan is made of demons or not. I’m still going to give you guys the rings signifying our bonds.” She says and Phil nods.

“Now… who wants to go and slaughter some orphans?” Techno asks, clapping his hands together.

Y/n shouts yes and drops her bag on the ground, running out the door. Techno hangs back a moment, pausing only to look at his reflection in the mirror- at the heavy ring on his tusk. It’s stopped burning and has turned into a comfortable warmth.

“Hey, you good mate?” Phil asks and Techno smiles.

“Never better.” He eyes the half-demon waiting outside in the snow, her tail swishing on the ground behind her.

“Good. Because now there’s no getting rid of her.” Phil smiles and they join the girl waiting outside, ready for whatever adventures lie ahead.

#dsmp x reader #dsmp techno #technoblade x reader #technoblade x platonic!reader #philza x reader #philza x platonic!reader #hybrid reader #technoblade x hybrid!reader #philza x hybrid!reader #technoblade x y/n #philza x y/n #lizzy writes

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nerdzzone · 3 years

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Only For A Moment: August

Summary: A series of shorter one shots from Chris and Whitney’s life together throughout the pandemic. Some happy times, some harder times, some fluff and some things a little more sexy - they work through it all as they try to get settled in their new and blossoming relationship.

Chris Evans x OFC

Part of the Once Bitten/More Hearts series

Only For A Moment: July

Note: I’ve had a super busy day, but I wanted to get this posted so I edited it really quickly. Please forgive me if there’s any little mistakes!

Thank you to everyone who has liked, reblogged and commented! Hearing your thoughts really makes my day!

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August 2020

I think you'd be hard-pressed to find someone who actually enjoys moving - especially if that move involves a three year old who feels the need to be very involved in the packing, but is also incredibly easily distracted. And even more so when that child's father is almost just as distractible and, despite his insistence that he'd stay focused, does more to hinder the whole operation than help.

That was the situation that I found myself in at the end of the first summer of the pandemic because we were moving in with Chris.

While I was hesitant at first, it made the most sense and neither Grayson nor I were particularly eager to return to our tiny little apartment. I still felt that it was pretty early in our relationship for us to be living together, but we'd survived so far and moving back seemed like it would do more harm than good. Grayson had settled in nicely at Chris' house and another big change - like making him go back to having two homes - seemed like it would be very disruptive.

But moving came with it's own challenges.

After our conversation a few months earlier, Chris had told all of his most trusted friends about our change in relationship status. That came in handy as a few of his buddies - who had trucks - had volunteered to help us move things the last weekend of August, but packing had me feeling overwhelmed. I'd managed to give most of the furniture away - between our friends and Chris' family - but we still had way too much stuff.

It was on that Saturday morning that I found myself sitting in the middle of Grayson's old bedroom almost in tears. I'd packed up his mountain of toys the night before only to find Chris and Grayson unpacking several boxes the next morning while I was trying to finish up in the living room. Apparently, Grayson had wanted a certain toy that I'd already packed and instead of telling him to wait because he had several other things to play with that weren't boxed up, Chris helped him look for it.

He was trying to be helpful, thinking that repacking a few things would be easier to deal with than a meltdown from Grayson, but it had been a long, tiring week as I tried to get everything organized and their actions almost pushed me to my breaking point. I scolded them both and banished them to the little playground just outside the building while I set to work cleaning up their mess.

Almost twenty minutes later, I heard a knock on the front door as it creaked open. I poked my head out of the room I was in - ready to send the boys straight back outside - only to see Chris' oldest and closest friend, Tara. She was masked up for safety and knowing how sweet and helpful she was, she was a refreshing sight. I'd met her several times, mostly when Grayson was a baby and I lived with Chris, and she'd been a calming and encouraging presence back then so I was definitely relieved to see her during another time of high stress.

"Hey," I smiled. "What are you doing here?"

"I brought supplies," she informed me, holding up a tray of iced coffees. "Chris called and said that he thought you could use some help."

"You're a lifesaver," I groaned with pleasure as she put down the tray and handed me one of the drinks. "I need this, thank you so much."

"You're welcome," she returned my smile. "How's the packing going?"

"Not bad now that the boys are outside," I laughed. "It's pretty much all done, I think. You never realize how much junk you have until you have to pack it all up."

"Oh my god, I know. We moved last year and it felt like the piles of things we had to take was never ending."

"It's crazy," I agreed. "Especially with all Gray's stuff. I thought we did a good job of not spoiling him, but he has an insane amount of toys."

"I can imagine," she cringed. "But I have no plans all day so just tell me what you need help with and I'm all yours."

I thought for a moment as I sipped the coffee she'd brought me until I had an idea.

"Actually..." I started, feeling a bit sheepish. "Would you be willing to take Grayson for a bit? I know it's a big ask, especially while he's so excited, so feel free to say no."

"Are you kidding? I'd love to take him!"

I let out a breath of relief as I felt my body relax.

"Thank you so much. I really need Chris to help me carry these boxes and he's been so preoccupied with Grayson that he's been no use at all," I explained. "It's a big change and he's worried about him being freaked out by it all, which I totally get, but I need him to focus a bit too."

Tara laughed and shook her head.

"I get it, don't worry. I know what he can be like," she assured me. "I'll go down and get Gray now and send Chris up here."

"Thank you. You're the best, Tara."

She waved off my gratitude and insisted it was no problem before leaving me to turn my attention back to what I'd been doing before she arrived.

Once Grayson was in the safe care of Tara, Chris was much more useful. We were packing things with impressive speed and when it was almost time for his friends to show up with their trucks, we started moving things down to the lobby of the building to make the loading process quicker.

I was a tad nervous about the whole situation as I hadn't spent much time with most of Chris' friends and I didn't really know what they thought of me. I hoped they'd be understanding of our situation and give me a chance, but if he really had been pining away for me all these years - thinking that I didn't want to be with him - I worried that they'd think I was selfish and heartless.

Those worries, combined with my stress about getting everything organized, had me still feeling rather on edge. It didn't help that the creepy maintenance man that I'd warned Chris about was watching us like a hawk. I could feel his eyes on me every time I stepped foot in the lobby and the sensation made my skin crawl. I just wanted to get it all done and over with as fast as possible so we could get away from him, but Chris had clearly noticed him too and I could feel his annoyance rising as well.

He held it together until our last trip down when our spectator really crossed a line. I was bending over to place some boxes on the ground when I could have sworn I heard a groan of pleasure from behind me. I snapped back up to standing and looked over my shoulder to see the man with a smirk on his face and his eyes fixed on me. It made my stomach churn, but Chris was immediately by my side, his arm sliding around my waist. Before I could even question what he was doing, he pulled down his mask and then my own, cupped my jaw with his hand and pulled me in for a kiss.

It was a rather passionate embrace and I was surprised as he usually wasn't one for public displays of affection. Then it hit me why he was doing it and I felt a flash of annoyance run through me as he pulled away. There was a smirk on his face as he rested his forehead against mine, but all I could muster was a frown.

"Do you think he got the hint?"

I scoffed at his question.

"I think he got enough pictures to pay his bills for the next few months," I huffed, keeping my voice low so we wouldn't be overheard. "Are you done marking your territory now?"

Chris looked taken aback by my harsh tone and I sighed as I slipped out of his grasp and headed to the door. I wanted to see if his friends had arrived yet and get away from the creep, but Chris followed and wasn't prepared to let our conversation drop.

"What, so I'm not allowed to kiss you in public in case someone sees?" He asked once we got outside, his own annoyance coming through. "I thought you didn't care if people found out about us?"

I stopped walking and spun around to face him.

"I don't care," I snapped. "But I'd rather not give some pervert the chance to profit off of us just to save your wounded pride."

Even with his mask pulled back up, I could see Chris' jaw clench with frustration.

"He was being disrespectful. I was standing right there and he moans while staring at your ass? C'mon, he's a fuckin' asshole."

Another flare of anger washed over me as I fought to keep myself calm enough to explain to him why what he'd just said was almost as frustrating as the actions of the man who'd been ogling me.

"He was being disrespectful," I agreed, my voice steady despite my rising temper. "But to me, not to you! It doesn't matter if I have a boyfriend or not, he shouldn't behave like that towards any woman! I don't deserve to be respected because of you, I deserve to be respected because I'm a human being who has a right to feel safe in their own apartment building."

Chris' shoulders dropped as he took in my words and visibly calmed down, but I was still feeling wound up.

"Shit, Winnie, you're right," he relented. "I don't want anyone to treat you like that ever, not just because you're my girlfriend. It just pissed me off that he had the balls to do that even in front of me."

"So kissing me like that to send him a message was the best solution you could think of? Like, 'don't touch this one, she's mine'. It made me feel gross. I don't need you claiming me in public to scare off creeps, thanks."

"I didn't mean it like that," Chris insisted, looking slightly wounded by my scolding. "I'm sorry, I was being an idiot."

"Okay," I shrugged, somewhat blowing off his apology. "We should go to the parking lot. Your friends might be here."

"Are we good, Win?" He asked, clearly not as eager to let the subject drop. "I want to make this right if you're upset..."

"I'm fine," I sighed, knowing that was only half true. It was only half his fault though, the stress of the day overall was more to blame and, at that point, I just wanted it to be over so I could have a nice big glass of wine. "Let's just go see where your friends are."

He didn't argue as I walked off and when we turned the corner into the parking lot, his friends were all there lined up in the visitor's spots. I forced a smile despite the fact that it was hidden by my mask and waved as we walked over.

"Hey!" I greeted them. "Thanks so much for doing this. We really appreciate it."

"Ah, no worries!" Jon assured me. "But, are you really sure you want to move in with this guy?"

"Yeah, we were just talking," Zach continued. "And it feels a bit Stockholm syndrome-y. He confines you to a house and suddenly you fall in love? Seems a bit suspicious."

"Wow, guys, glad you're on my side," Chris laughed. "I wouldn't have asked you to help out if I knew you'd try and change her mind!"

"We just want to make sure we're not committing any crimes here," Luke insisted. "I don't want to be an accomplice to anything and we're all scratching our heads about what she could see in you."

Chris shook his head at their teasing and I tried to push our earlier discussion from my mind as I giggled and slid my hand into his. I felt him tense up in surprise at the gesture, but he relaxed as I squeezed it and leaned against his arm.

"There's no Stockholm syndrome here," I assured them. "It just took a pandemic and the constant threat of impending doom for me to come to my senses. I'm just lucky Chris was silly enough to wait for me."

Chris chuckled and leaned over to place a kiss on the top of my head as his friends rolled their eyes.

We quickly went over the game plan for the day once the initial greeting was over and as soon as his friends turned to head towards the building, I dropped my hand from Chris'. I knew I was being petty and sulky and from the sigh that fell from Chris' lips, he did too, but I couldn't help it - I needed some space to work through my cranky mood on my own. Luckily, Chris seemed to figure that out pretty fast and left me to my brooding as we followed his friends and got to work.

It didn't take us as long as I expected to load all the boxes into the trucks, but that was probably the benefit to having a team of strong men helping you move. Once it was all unloaded into the spare bedroom at Chris' place where I had been sleeping at the start of the pandemic, Chris broke out a few beers for his friends and fired up the grill while we waited for Tara and Gray to arrive. It was a beautiful, warm evening and perfect for an impromptu barbecue to thank all Chris' friends and it was a great opportunity for me to bond a bit more with some of the most important people in Chris' life.

Grayson knew them all better than I did, but we had some concerns that the lack of socialization would make him nervous around the now somewhat unfamiliar faces. But he put those worries to bed almost as soon as he arrived as he was the life of the party. He was thrilled to see the three men who were sitting in the lawn chairs dotted around our yard - in an effort to keep everyone somewhat distant from each other - and the cheer they let out as soon as they saw him made me think they were just as excited. They seemed to really adore him and he thrived on the attention. It warmed my heart to see the genuine care they all had for Grayson - it was wonderful to know he had so many people in his corner - and I was relieved when that care was extended to me.

Any doubts that I'd had about them accepting me were quickly pushed from my mind as they seemed to be just as eager to get to know me as I was to get to know them. They were all lovely, kind people and I wondered why I ever expected anything else from the people in Chris' inner circle.

They left as soon as Grayson's bedtime rolled around - partially because we were all tired from our long day of moving boxes and partially because we all knew there was no way that Gray was going to agree to go to bed while the party was still going. Once they were gone, he demanded Chris tuck him in so I tidied up in the kitchen while he handled bedtime.

As soon as I'd finished putting the last few dishes in the dishwasher, I felt his arms around my waist.

"Hey," he whispered in my ear, his chin resting on my shoulder. "Thanks for cleaning up."

"You don't need to thank me," I smiled, turning in his arms so we were face to face. "It's my house to keep clean too now, even if that's still weird to think about."

"Weird in a good way?"

"Definitely," I nodded. "It's felt like home here for a while now. It would have been awful to go back to that little apartment."

"It would have been weird for me too," Chris agreed. "I can't imagine being in this big house without you guys anymore."

"You'd have to move all your friends in," I teased, using it as a segue. "Who, by the way, are all very nice."

"Yeah?" Chris grinned. "You think so?"

"I do. I was a bit nervous about it," I admitted. "In case they resented me for how our relationship unfolded, but they're great."

"They never resented you at all," Chris chuckled. "Pretty much everyone who knows about our first night together was on your side about that and they've been pushing me to make a move ever since."

"Well, that's good to know."

Chris nodded and continued.

"They all really like you. Jon gave me clear instructions to not fuck it up."

I laughed at that, but felt a wave of relief.

"I appreciate their support."

"Well, you definitely have it."

Chris leaned down to press his lips against mine and I melted into his body, feeling the exhaustion from the stress of the day start to hit me. We stayed like that, just holding each other for a few minutes until Chris broke the silence around us.

"Can we talk about earlier?"

My stomach churned with embarrassment at the memory, but I nodded.

"Of course, we can. I'll start by saying that I'm sorry."

Chris leaned back slightly, just enough to look down at me with his confusion written all over his face.

"You're sorry? Why are you sorry?" He asked. "I brought it up so that I could apologize to you."

"You don't need to," I assured him. "I get why you did what you did. I just don't deal with stress very well and the whole day was overwhelming me. I shouldn't have taken it out on you."

"You don't deal with stress very well? I never would have known!" His words were laced with sarcasm as he smiled down at me and I laughed, gently smacking his chest in protest. "But seriously, I deserved a good scolding. You were absolutely right with what you said, I shouldn't have handled the situation like that."

"I appreciate that you can see where I was coming from," I sighed. "But there is no perfect way to handle a situation like that, really. It's best just to ignore it, but then it feels like you're letting the gross guy win."

"Well, if we're ever in a situation like that again, I'll follow your lead," he insisted. "But I can't say that I'll just ignore it. I might just punch the guy out for being a creep."

I laughed again before shaking my head.

"And then whoever is watching will have a different kind of picture to sell to the trashy magazines."

Chris cringed at that comment.

"I'm sorry. Do you really think he took pictures?"

"I don't know," I shrugged. "But if he recognized you then I'd be surprised if he didn't."

Chris nodded, clearly getting lost in thought for a moment before he spoke again.

"And you really don't care if proof gets out that we're together?"

"I don't," I insisted. "I don't like the idea of some pervert making money off of us, but I don't care if people know we're together. It might be good for people to get used to the idea now, when we're hiding at home all the time anyway. By the time we can go outside again, no one will care enough to take pictures of us."

"That might be wishful thinking," Chris smiled. "But I'll do my best to keep you out of the spotlight."

I matched his smile and stretched up to place a kiss on his lips.

"I'm sure it'll be fine."

As I predicted, the creepy maintenance man did take pictures of us and he did sell them to some trashy magazine. The internet was horrified, the hearts of fangirls all over the world were broken and I was called every cruel name under the sun. There were rumours that I trapped him with another baby and rumours that I was a gold digger - just using Chris for his money so I didn't have to work during the pandemic. The general reception to the forced confirmation of our relationship was pretty abysmal, but nothing worse than we expected and at the end of the day we didn't care.

All the people who truly cared about us were happy for us and that was the most important thing.

September

Tags: @maggotzombie @moonlacebeam @mizzzpink @zaylaugh @flowery-mess @flowerjewels @njrronaldo7 @hockeychick10 @partypoison00 @theladybiers @sidepieces @firoozehmoon @patzammit @sparkledfirecracker @mytbel0st @chvntelle-99

#chris evans #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans fanfic #chris evans fan fiction #once bitten/more hearts #only for a moment

82 notes · View notes

miss-nov · 3 years

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Over-Emotional: Danny Phantom Oneshot.

Original idea by @amabsis on their post right here!!

[Originally written on a reblog of the prompt but it went all screwy and left an incomplete version so I made it it's own post and I've made a few grammar and spelling edits. Sorry for any confusion!!]

(This is the first thing I've ever written for the DP Phandom so I apologize if it's a little OOC)

⚠️(TW: DESCRIPTIONS OF A PANIC ATTACK AND GORE!!!!!)⚠️

Danny drifted through the skies of Amity Park, following the streets which were slick with recent rain. The stars twinkled merrily above and the beams from the street lights seemed to buzz through the comforting, crisp air. Not a sound disrupted the mellow atmosphere and ghosts had appeared to leave tonight alone and retired to their lairs. A soothing night such as this would have been Danny's favorite; it would have been a much needed break from his overly stressful life.

Yet Danny couldn't shake off the creeping apprehension even as he twisted in and out of alleyways back into the lit roads.

His parents had been working tirelessly on a project that they wouldn't tell him and Jazz about. Jack, their father, would always jump at the chance to describe what he was doing and couldn't keep his antics quiet for long. Maddie's, their mother, eyes would have brightened as she recounted the innovate idea she had conjured and the necessary calculations she could toy around with. These facts coupled with Jazz and Danny casually inquiring about their latest project would make them incredibly ecstatic.

But whenever the two had asked about it, put off by the unusual quiet of the parents, had only been given an amused smile and an occasional wink.

Tonight, before Danny's patrol and during dinner, Jazz had managed to weasel some information out of them. Though, it left more questions than answers.

"So, you guys have been in the lab a lot recently," Jazz said conversationally. "Working on some new ghost stuff? It seems important if you're spending most of the day down there."

Maddie had given her a deliberate look like someone who'd finally decided to take a second cookie.

"It's our greatest invention yet," she said lowly and excitedly. "I think your dad and I have found the solution to our little ghost problem."

The siblings gulped and tried to suppress their shudders.

"It's not going to hurt them is it? Phantom and the other ghosts." Jazz's voice was even and didn't show a hint of a tone shift.

"Surprisingly, no. No harm will be dealt to them. It's not like they can feel anyway. That's exactly the problem," Jack chimed excitedly before going back to his ectoplasm contaminated lasagna.

"Besides, we wouldn't want to hurt the object of our daughter's affection. We all know about your crush on Phantom," Maddie teased but then added with a small frown. "Though it's not healthy to have a crush on ghosts at all."

Jazz gave an aggressive gagging noise and Danny was torn between hysterical laughter and a gag of his own. Dinner resumed as normal —well, as normal as you could get being a Fenton— and Danny took note of the fact his parents had refused to say anymore.

Danny was busy going over and dissecting the conversation and lax in his attention to his surroundings by the inactivity that he didn't notice the two shadow-cloaked figures tailing him. The taller one with a broader build was holding an intimidating gun, that looked like it was straight out of an eighties sci-fi movie, on his back.

Maybe I should head back, Danny thought to himself. I have so much homework due and a test tomorrow. A pop quiz in calculus and a lab in science. I have to meet Nathan at my study hall period and at lunch. Liz needs my help…

On and on the list went as Danny subtlety started flying home. Just thinking of things that needed done was making him more anxious and tired.

"Phantom, we'll have you now," Jack cried, his voice echoing in the hollow streets.

Danny turned around, slightly aggravated when he was struck by a violet beam and plummeted, crashing to the sidewalk.

"Jack! I told you to wait," Maddie chastised as they walked over to Danny who had barely sat up.

His head swam and Maddie and Jack looked like the reflections of a carnival fun house mirror. Though his vision corrected itself quickly.

"I think you might have given him a concussion. But that doesn't make sense, ghosts don't have brains," Maddie said, slightly confused. She reached out to gingerly place her fingertips on Danny's temple and he flinched.

"Don't touch me!!" Danny had yelled louder then he meant to and his voice came out with an extra echo; like he had been about to use his ghostly wail. The three stilled before Danny began crawling backwards, keeping his eyes on Jack and Maddie at all times.

"I don't wanna hurt you," Danny whimpered and tears sprang to eyes like a line of men ready to battle. Why the hell was he crying!? He didn't cry easy, at least not of late, and he'd been in these situations and worse without crying so why was he breaking down now??

Maddie looked at him with wide eyes and her hand, which had still been suspended in shock, dropped to her belt and Danny panicked.

"Don't hurt me!" Danny tried to pick himself up to fly, to get the hell out of dodge but when he went to stand his vision and black an —god why were his veins burning with adrenaline???

Danny's chest was caving, that was the only explanation as his ribs seized and threatened to crush his lungs. His heart had left its place and sprinted from the back of his throat down to right beneath his collarbone before starting all over again. Has his hands always been this sweaty??? Tremors wracked through his limbs —he couldn't deal with this now!! He needed to finish his Hamlet essay, and review his history notes, and hadn't Liz asked him to buy popsicle sticks for their art project??? That's what he had forgotten!! He can't think of this now!! Maddie and Jack could easily catch him now —but oh, God was he screwed when —if— when he went to school the next day.

"Phantom, you're having a panic attack," Maddie said calmly.

"No, shit there, Sherlock." Danny bit his bottom lip to prevent another scathing comment from escaping. Usually he had better control of his mouth believe it or not. He put his head between his knees, closing his eyes and trying to focus on, well, nothing. He felt tears slip from his eyes and barely stopped himself from screaming.

"You know what a panic attack is?" Jack titled his head as he scanned over his shaking form.

"Jack did you put the settings up too high while we were following him?"

"Of course not! I was very careful not to bounce anything out of place. You've Done the math, four times, it should be perfectly calibrated." Jack twisted the purple and silver metallic gun in his hands, giving it a thorough look over.

"What the fuck are you two talking about!!" The scientists' head whipped back to see Danny's eyes glowing a tad brighter than before and his mouth transfixed into a snarl. Maddie slid a careful hand to her holster.

"Our newest invention. Ghosts, well most of them, are just whispers of feelings that people once had. They can't actually feel and so they do bad things or... or they mimic human behaviors really well to make it seem like they do, like they're human." Maddie's voice trailed off at the end as if seeing if he would explode.

Danny felt that normally he would have but he started to hyperventilate. How was he going to reverse it??? Was there even a way to do so or did they not include a reverse button by mistake (on purpose?) like they had mistakenly put the 'on' button inside the portal??

"We're going to take you to the lab. Check your... concussion and to stabilize your mood. Run a few tests..."

Ohgodohgodohgodohgodohgodoh—

They would strap him down and cut and lay his chest open like a butterfly steak and their hungry eyes would roam over him and their hands would devour him by pulling at his nerve endings and removing his organs and Danny would scream until his voice was hoarse and then some like a helpless lamb. Would he bleed blood or ectoplasm when they drained him? Would they take turns as he bleed out?? Or would they flow out together like some sort of demented, holiday dinner?? Or—

"Phantom! You need to calm down." Maddie was at his side (when had she gotten there?) and was squeezing his hand. Danny briefly noted her eyes were filled with worry as her goggles hung at her neck. "Just breathe with me okay, please."

"Breathe with her, buddy" Jack, who sat on the other side of Danny, whispered as he gently rubbed circles on the boy's lower back. "It's gonna be okay. We aren't going to hurt you."

Danny wanted to say a smart aleck remark about them not having the same sentiment five minutes ago but instead focused on his breathing. He faced his head skyward and tried to count the stars. Nothing but him and the stars, no home— just the stars.

Danny was reminded of the time he went stargazing with the rest of his family. A rare occasion as Maddie and Jack seemed to always be working. They had smiled so big at him as he pointed out constellations, awestruck. Jazz had nodded along as she listened attentively with a smile of her own. The night hadn't been more clear in months and more stars then usually were out. The picnic blanket they laid on was soft and him and Jazz had rested in between their parents and God they had been so happy then—

Danny let out an involuntary sob. The melancholy seemed to come from the depths of his chest but at least it seemed to push out the panic.

"Phantom," Maddie asked as she huddled closer to him. Phantom, not Danny. It hadn't really bothered him before; they didn't know it was him so why would they call him by his name?

But it still made him cry harder. He wanted to tell them. He wanted to so, so bad.

Jazz had urged him to tell them. But Danny had always been afraid. Scared that they wouldn't want him anymore.

Now the sadness had overwhelmed the fear and the panic. He felt so isolated even when his parents were next to him, right there, trying to coax him into being calm. He had to tell them. He had to do it now because he wouldn't be this impulsive again.

He felt the white rings gloss over him and heard Jack yell out "Phantom". When it was over he heard them gasp.

"D-Danny," Maddie choked out.

"I'm so sorry," Danny said through his tears. He chanted it over and over again as his parents reassured him that he had nothing to be sorry for and that they should apologize.

The three sat there for quite some time, huddled close and crying together.

Soon they would head home and take care of Danny's quickly healing concussion and reverse the effects of the gun. They would ask questions tomorrow after school but, for now, they tucked him into bed, something they hadn't done since he was eleven, and gave him their good night kisses on his temple before creeping to their room unaware of Jazz watching them from her bedroom door. She would text Sam and Tucker an explanation and ask them to give Danny the answers to the homework in the morning. She slipped into bed and fell asleep.

The streets were barely slick with rain anymore. The stars twinkled merrily and the street lights buzzed. The crisp, cool air was calm and mellow. The night soothing and the Fentons were a family once again.

#danny phantom #danny fenton #maddie fenton #jack fenton #jazz fenton #danny phantom prompt #danny phantom prompt fill #danny phantom oneshot #danny phantom fic #prompt fic #prompt fill #prompt oneshot

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royallyprincesslilly · 4 years

Text

Title: In The Act {3}

Chris Evans x Famous OFC Cassia Drake

Warning: Plot, Cursing, Plenty of Words

Word Count: 5.5k

Summary: After the release of your hit movie “Roman Holiday,” you’ve become Hollywood’s new “It Girl.” Everyone wants a piece of you. While at a Hollywood event, you get pulled into an epic selfie similar to the one from the MET Gala with the megastars of Hollywood. The next day all anyone can talk about is this epic picture but not because of the star power in it, but what was happening in it.

Note: Yep, another one.

**Loosely Edited/Proofread**

**Heavily Interactive**

Thank you guys for reading!!!! If you enjoyed this please LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG. 😊 ❤️❤️

Previous Chapters: 1 | 2 |

Thank god for slow mornings. You couldn’t think of the last time you were able to wake up without Pieter either standing over you or walking into your bedroom. He was the only one your mother trusted with you, and he just so happened to be a big shot entertainment manager. When you told your mother that you intended to pursue a career in acting, she was livid. She went on a tirade of the number of black actresses who either had to do questionable things to even have a minor break and those who just were used and turned away. She stressed the vast inequalities in the entertainment industry and worried for your mental and emotional health in the cruel industry. She didn't want you anywhere near the entertainment industry. She wanted you to fall into her second career field and be a lawyer.

It took months of you doing it on your own before you got your first role, it was small, but you played the shit out of the third black friend to the white lead actress then did it again and again and again. After your fourth role, your mother came around and brought Pieter into the mix. You knew of him from the industry. He’d been in a few tabloid magazines standing next to a few actresses. Your mother introduced him as her school friend from back in the day. You wanted to question her, but you knew better than that and just accepted the story she fed you. You always suspected there was more to it. The two of them sat you down for three hours to have a meeting on your goals with the industry.

After you went on and on for an hour, they went on and on for the next two outlining what needed to happen, how you needed to take things seriously, and put thought into the roles you auditioned for and so on. By the end of the meeting, you were on information overload, and that was when your mother told you the only way she’d be okay with you in this cutthroat town was if Pieter managed you. There was nothing in you that wanted to say no, so you said yes. That was two years now, and it had been a rollercoaster from the beginning.

Once in your kitchen still in your bra and panties, you perused the shelves in your fridge and took out the huge fruit salad you found there. After smelling it, you settled that it was still good and hopping onto the kitchen island and turned on the TV. As you ate, you flipped through the channels determined not to go to anything that required a brain cell. After a few moments of searching, you decided to finish the episode of Castlevania you’d started weeks ago.

You got lost in the lore of the Dracula themed animated series and the deliciousness of the fruit you were eating. You’d tuned everything out so well that you didn’t even hear anyone approach.

“Cassia!”

“What!”

You looked back to see Tiffany with her head poked around a corner looking at you.

“I think you’re gonna want to come out here,” she said with a look on her face you didn’t recognize.

“Uhh—why?”

“Just come look.” With that, her head was gone. Sighing, you pressed pause on the show, hopped off the counter, stabbed a piece of honeydew, and walked to where she’d disappeared. When you walked out of the kitchen and down the hall to your foyer, there sat a rather large floral arrangement.

“What the fuck is this?”

“What does it look like?”

“Flowers,” you answered before you shoved the fruit in your mouth to stand beside Tiffany.

“Duh.”

“Who are they from?”

You both stood there, just staring at it. They were gorgeous.

“I don’t know. I have been trying not to grab the card,” tiffany added. You looked at her; there was a wide ass grin on her face.

“It’s probably from Vouge thanking me for the photoshoot yesterday,” you surmised as you approached the arrangement. The scent of roses was powerful but not overwhelming.

Grabbing the card, you glanced at the front to see your name written across it. You didn’t recognize the handwriting. When you opened it, you scanned the words written, expecting to see “thank you.” Instead, you saw the words, “I’m sorry.” Bringing the card closer to your face, you read the words. Each word you read, your eyes bugged out even more and more until your jaw had dropped.

“What? Who’re they from?”

“Not Vouge.” Tiffany walked to you and took the card from your hands and read it aloud.

“Cassia, allow me to begin by extending my most sincerest apology to you for first my behavior the night of the fashion event and second the position I have put you in with the press. I am embarrassed and ashamed of my actions and behavior,” Tiffany began before she looked at you with eyes wide.

“Is this who I think it is? Oh my god, Cass!”

She dropped her eyes back to the card and continued. “I am embarrassed and ashamed of my actions and behavior, and I deeply regret them. I am very sorry, and I want you to know that in no way did I mean to objectify you or your body. I have two sisters and a strong Italian mother, and I was not raised that way at all. I hope that you can forgive me and my actions and not hold it against my family. Please accept these flowers as a token of my most heartfelt apology. Sincerely Chris Evans,” Tiffany finished with the squeal of his name.

“Oh my god! Cass!”

You’d been frozen in place for the last two minutes as she read the card. There were a plethora of things running through your head. One of which was the number of formal words he’d used.

“Oh my fucking god! Cass, is this his handwriting? It looks like it could be, it’s legible. Oh my god.”

You heard Tiffany reread the card, and as she did, you turned back to the flowers and observed them. You took notice that the flowers were all in your favorite colors. That made you wonder if he knew your favorite colors, or this was just a florist’s decision.

“Why are you so quiet? Why aren’t you freaking out?”

“Do you think he knows my these are my favorite colors?”

Tiffany looked back to the arrangement then let out a “hmm.”

“Do you think he specially researched you in order to send these? It is possible. this card sounds like he put a lot of thought into it.”

You took the card from her and reread it for yourself. She was right; the handwriting wasn’t horrible, by no means was it gorgeous, but it was nice. You began to wonder if he had, in fact, written it himself.

“Are you going to reply?”

That was the million-dollar question. You didn’t see a need to. Even if you did, what what you say? Thank you, Mr. Evans, for apologizing for looking down my dress. Though I enjoyed the attention, and I am flattered, It was highly inappropriate? Somehow that didn’t seem right.

“No need,” you answered before you walked away toward the kitchen and your fruit salad.

“What!”

Tiffany’s footsteps were loud as she trudged behind you.

“Why wouldn’t you reply? This could be one of the cutest meet-cute stories for your grandkids.”

“Oh my god, Tiff, grandkids? Are you insane right now?”

“Girl, don’t even try and lie and say you don’t think the man is fine.”

“I never said he wasn’t attractive.”

“Attractive? Cassia Anjelique Drake, you know you a damn liar. The man is more than attractive. He is gorgeous,” Tiff corrected.

“And he knows it, Tiffany. You can tell. I bet part of him thought he could have gotten away with x-ray visioning me, and no one would have called him out for it.”

“Cass,” Tiff began before you cut her off.

“—We’re not responding,” you finished turning back on Castelvania.

You knew Tiffany did not approve and also knew you hadn’t heard the end of it. You tried to focus on the show, but it was useless. Your mind only wanted to think of one thing—or person. Chris Evans.

Your day was just for meetings. Pieter had set you up with six meetings for the day. The first three were about movie roles he thought would suit your brand. They were all varying roles, one the lead in an action flick, another the love interest in a rom-com, and the third in a sci-fi type dramady. He said the worst thing in the world was being typecast. With Roman Holiday being a romcom, you knew he’d want your next role to be on the far opposite side of the spectrum.

The roles sounded exciting, and the scripts intrigued you. When they began talking about the expected salary for the films, you were impressed. They were practically throwing their money at you. You couldn’t believe the money actors actually received for a few months of work. Yeah, the schedule could be daunting and preparation never ending, but millions of dollars for maybe five to six months of work was just fine by you.

After the three movie meetings where you agreed to take the scripts and reread them before you got back to them, you moved on to a meeting with your team to discuss the next three months for you while going over the last three months. This happened quarterly, and you found the meetings insightful. They kept you on track with your goals and kept things in perspective. Your mother always said you are only as good as a capable team around you.

Your team comprised of your agent, Eduardo, whose job was to hunt down all the roles he could for you and field calls and interest from anyone and everyone in the business. Second, your publicist Julez, her domain was everything concerning your PR. Her job was to make sure that everything about you in the public remained favorable. She was good at what she did, and took her job seriously. Then was your lawyer, Martin, who was the second-best entertainment lawyer in the business. The best as far as you were concerned was your mother. His job was to keep everything legal and make sure no one tried to take advantage of you business-wise. Fourth, was your accountant, Greg. He was your money man. He made sure every cent you agreed upon with your contracts, was sent to your bank account and that every dime in your account was accounted for at all times. He even helped you invest that money, so it always grew. Then came your part-time stylist, Frenchie. Her job was to keep you looking incredible when she was needed. Finally, there was Pieter who oversaw them all. Tiffany nicknamed them Star Team, in honor of your name.

Though you’d learned to listen and follow along when they talked, you had to admit most of the information was boring to you, so you often drifted off. You never felt guilty about it because Tiffany was always recording the meetings and inventorying them for you if you needed to reference them later.

“Okay, is that all?” Pieter looked around at their faces around the conference table.

“One more thing, Julez began. “Have you decided how you’d like to move forward with eh-em, Boobgate?”

The murmurs around the desk picked up before Julez went on. “The media seemed to love your snarky, comedic comeback, Cassia. They are now doing most of the work for us by calling you good-spirited and easy-going for shrugging it off. A lot of the comments since are in good fun. I don’t see anything negative to come through, so I’m going to say we’re staying in good parameters. I have noticed though a great increase in searches about you and your overall name being mentioned. People love talking about you and Chris,” Juelz finished.

“Why wouldn’t they? They look gorgeous together,” Frenchie added.

“That seems to be the overall consensus. It is fascinating even those in his fandom do not seem to be spinning this negatively, which is always a concern with him and his team,” Juelz informed.

That was not news to you. When you had yet to make your big break, you followed celebrity discourse, and the Chris Evans fandom was insane. It seemed any little thing set them off, and once a fire was sparked, it would burn for weeks. With your rising fame, you worried about things like that on your end and being swept up in someone else’s insanity.

“So let’s leave it there. Let the media run with it where they will. We’ll do and say nothing on it. We’ll let this work for us,” Pieter finalized.

Everyone nodded before he called an end to the meeting, and everyone began to leave the room. Before you left, Pieter took the time to remind you about your last meeting of the day and share the news about a few other side projects he’d been working on for you. He shared that within a week or two, he hoped to be able to share the full news but that he was excited at the turn talks had taken today. You were curious but knew if you asked him to elaborate, he would only shoo you away, promising it would be a good surprise. He had your mother’s trust and had earned yours, so you allowed him to keep his secrets—for now.

After your last meeting, you found yourself home alone before midnight. This was the first time you'd been able to get any alone time. As you made it in your bedroom, you realized the flowers were now perched on your bedside table. They were even more beautiful in the glow of the moonlight that was shining through your balcony windows. Tiffany must have sent a message to the housekeeper to move them there.

You took up the card and reread it, all the while smiling. It was a sweet apology note and a kind gesture. You were surprised Julez didn’t bring them up in the meeting until it dawned on you that either she didn’t know which meant they came directly from him and not his assistant or team or she didn’t want to put you on the spot. While she technically answered to Pieter, she knew your money was what paid her salary. That meant you and her had an understanding about your PR needs. You liked discretion on things that no one else needed to know. This—you didn’t want Pieter knowing about. There was no need for him to know. It meant nothing.

The next day before you left your house, there was yet another bouquet and the card that accompanied it read; “Just in case you didn’t believe the first card I sent with the first arrangement I wanted to double down to make sure you knew that I am very much sorry.”

Tiffany didn’t say one word, all she did was give you a look, and that one look said plenty of things in one. “Heifer, you better reply to that man and live your life while swinging from his chandelier butt ass naked.” You had no intention of doing anything that look said.

The next day, another bouquet was waiting for you. this card was a little more amusing. “The first bouquet I could say you possibly didn’t receive. I know your life is busy, and anything can happen, but the second one, eh, less believable that you didn’t get no matter how much my pride is screaming at me that you didn’t just to save face. This one, I am sure you got, I had my assistant take care of it and attach a delivered and received receipt. So you responding is a purpose thing, and that makes me think I fucked up really bad, so bad that flowers won’t fix it, and you don’t forgive me. So I propose an alternative option. Allow me to apologize in person and explain myself. You pick the time and the place, and I’ll show up.”

When Tiffany saw this one, she lost her shit. She went on a full twenty-minute speech on why you should respond and accept his proposal. She went through exhibits A to Z as to why this was a good idea. She conveniently skipped the letter P knowing damn well the only thing you both could think of was Pieter. You knew that if he knew about any of this, he would flip his lid. When she included in her argument that you could make all of his dreams come true that he’s had all his life but was too afraid to inquire about.

You allowed her to go on her rant but still decided against responding or meeting him.

~~~~~~~~

-2 Days Later-

“So Cassia, everyone wants to know about this picture that is still the talk of the town. You haven’t made a statement, Chris hasn’t made a statement. What gives?” Ryan Seacrest’s question had you giggling.

“Nothing gives, Ryan. Not everything needs an explanation. Sometimes as humans, we have to learn to be okay with what is,” you philosophized.

Silence stretched for a full ten seconds before everyone around you busted out laughing, including yourself.

“Wow, I almost fell for that,” Ryan added, making you laugh louder.

“Darn, I almost got away with it.”

“You would have if I really didn’t want an answer,” Ryan slid in.

“Ah, everyone wants an answer, Ryan. I don’t have an answer to give.”

“You weren’t there?”

“No. It was my twin sister, Alicia.”

Another long stretch of silence filled the room. You could tell they were trying to figure out if you were telling the truth. “See, you guys are easy,” you teased, making them laugh again.

“So, you’re really not going to make a statement?”

“I went to an event and met a lot of cool people and had a great time.”

“Did you and Chris Evans leave together?”

“Not at all.”

“Did you exchange numbers?”

“Nope.”

Another silence befell the room, and you knew they didn’t believe you. For the next five minutes or so, you finished the interview while keeping tightlipped about the hottest topic. When you left, you were met with the paparazzi yet again, who were shouting new questions.

“Cassia, are the rumors true?”

“What rumors, guys?”

“That you’re in a relationship with Captain America himself.”

You tried to hide your shock before you quickly spoke.

“Who said that?”

Tiffany snorted beside you, no doubt thinking of her favorite gif.

“It is all over social media,” one of the paparazzo informed.

“That’s news to me,” you finished as your security got you to your truck. Before you got in one more question was screamed at you.

“How’d it feel to have Captain America checking you out?”

You couldn’t hide your smirk this time, and it was a smirk that only got bigger and bigger. Before you cheesed like a full-on idiot, you ducked in the truck.

“Your smirk said it all,” Tiffany said as you facepalmed.

After a quick trip to the market for some essentials, you made it home to finish reading the scripts you needed to have done in two days. When you walked inside, you ignored the second bouquet of flowers, Chris sent you the day after the first and went upstairs. Once in your bedroom, the third bouquet he sent yesterday caught your eye. The first one was a shock, the second a surprise, the third confusing.

After your shower, you walked back into your bedroom to find another bouquet that wasn't there thirty minutes ago. You knew they were from him. This was now amusing. What was his angle, you thought to yourself as you crossed the room to the flowers. Taking a deep whiff of them, you moaned. You loved the scent of Gardenia. They always put you in the frame of mind of romance and sensual rolls in bed. With that thought, you paused. Was he trying to tell you something?

Grabbing the envelope, you noted it was a lot bigger than the cards that accompanied the other bouquets. Once opening it, you saw a sheet of paper that felt heavier than standard paper, and with it came what you now knew was his handwriting. “Okay, after thinking about this for the last week trying to figure out what it is about me that you don’t like or won’t even entertain. Let’s start with the massive elephant in the room; I’m white.”

You had to laugh out loud for that. After almost a full minute of laughter that made you have to sit on your bed, you continued. “I know a major turn off, and unfortunately, it’s not something I can change. However, I can assure you that though I am white aesthetically, I am not fully white in any other department, and yes, that includes dancing.”

Again you laughed, dropping onto your back while flailing your legs in the air. He was on a roll; you thought before you continued. “Second, it must be you’re not into white guys. For that, the only thing I can offer is I’m not against wearing a paper bag to hide the fact that I am, in fact, white. It would be a case of none are the wiser. If, however, your gripe with me is my behavior from nights before, I promise I’m not a sleaze twenty-four hours of the day. I am capable of looking directly into your eyes for an entire conversation, I promise. Let me prove it to you. 424-947-5639.”

Your jaw dropped. Chris freaking Evans just gave you his phone number. You couldn’t move for the next ten minutes. You just sat there in a stunned stupor. You couldn’t believe this was real. Half of you was fangirling because hello not too long ago; you were a fan. You still were. The other half was freaking out because Chris Evans just gave you his phone number. Was he just being friendly, or was he shooting his shot?

MSG: Question.

MSG Tiff: Answer for two hundred Alex.

MSG: How does one shoot their shot?

MSG Tiff: What? Cass, has it really been that long since you’ve made the first move?

MSG: Do you know who you’re talking to? I’ve never made the first move. That is beside the point. I’m not talking about me shooting my shot. I mean when someone shoots their shot at you. What exactly does it look like?

You saw the bubbles knowing she was probably writing a long ass message. Almost a minute later, the message came in.

MSG Tiff: Uh, were you not present at the Laker’s game when the Sixers were in town, and Jonah Bolden stopped the game to come over and shoot his shot?

You laughed. You hadn’t forgotten that, mainly because it was everywhere the next day. The two of you talked for a few weeks, but your schedule and his had things fizzling real quick.

MSG: Yeah, but he was black, Tiff.

That was when the facetime call came in. you rolled your eyes but answered it. “So are we asking what it looks like when a white guy shoots his shot? Is that to lead me to think you mean a particular America’s ass?”

“Oh my god, Tiff. Just answer please,” you pleaded with exasperation.

“I need to know who first. White guys shooting their shot do not come in one size fits all. So who?”

Rolling your eyes again, you told her and prepared for the scream. It was as loud as expected.

“Okay, I knew he was feeling you. A man doesn’t look at any ol breasts like that,” Tiffany joked before she continued. “He looks like he could have game, but it could be cheesy game. Did he send you more flowers?”

You turned the camera to the new bouquet, and she melted. “Oh my god, those are to die for. They just get more and more beautiful. He definitely put research into this one. you love gardenias.”

It was true, and the thought had crossed your mind. When she asked what the note said this time, you read it to her. It had her laughing just as hard and long. When you mentioned that he ended it with his number, she screamed again.

“Call him!”

“No!”

“Cassiopeia Anjelique Drake! The man has shot his ultimate shot,” Tiffany shouted, using your entire full name.

You rolled your eyes and dropped back onto your bed.

“I can’t call. Pieter will freak,” you excused.

“Fuck, Pieter!” It came from the depths of her soul, you could tell. “This is your life, your pussy!”

You face palmed yourself again. She had to go there.

“I’m serious. I know you’ve heard the rumors from that comedian he dated, and he swears his fingering is accurate, and you have seen his beard. A man with a beard like that is good for one thing.”

You screamed and died again. She was in prime form right now.

“Cassia.”

Groaning, you sat up and sighed out. “I gotta go Tiff, I’m supposed to have a video conference in ten minutes, and I’m sitting here in a towel. I’ll call you later.”

“When you call me, you better be telling me that you talked to that man,” Tiffany shouted out as you were ending the facetime call.

You quickly got yourself together, and presentable then made it to your office to prep for the conference with the scripts. Seeing how far behind you were with the scripts, you show the participants a quick email to push it back by a few hours. Then you buckled down to actually get some work done instead of thinking about the real reason Chris Evans had a beard.

Two hours later, you were on the conference and going through the script line for line, film direction after direction. If one script would have taken an hour to go through, then three took you triple the time. By the time you’d finished for the day, you were all talked out, exhausted, and starving. Glancing at your phone, you saw missed calls from Tiffany and your mother and groaned at the fact that it was after one in the morning. If you’d have known following your dreams meant bye-bye to normal sleep hours, then you may have thought twice.

With the craving for the most unhealthy crap raging within you, you got into your car and went for a drive. While the time meant not many were out, you knew anywhere in the heart of LA would be a mistake. You drove half an hour out of the way to Pasadena to the burger spot you found by accident. It was no Shake Shake, but it offered two of your favorite things in one place, Burgers and Pies.

As you walked inside the small shop, you smiled, grateful it was practically empty. You walked to the back of the retro style burger joint and sat in the last booth. Deciding it was safe to drop your disguise, you took off your hat and sunglasses and took a deep breath of the glorious smell of burger and pies. You weren’t waiting long before a waitress came over with a note pad.

“Welcome. Can I take your order?”

“Yes, the Big Ben burger with the works, please.” She looked at you like you were insane.

“Are you sure? That’s a big plate,” she warned. You smiled and nodded.

“Oh yeah. I haven’t eaten all day,” you assured.

“Okay. How would you like it?”

“Very well done, please.”

She nodded as she jotted your order down. “Anything to drink?”

“Ginger Ale with a lemon slice, please,” you finished before she nodded and walked away.

You really liked this place. It was one of the few places that still had a jukebox. Digging into your purse, you pulled out a quarter then walked to the device that wasn’t too far from the booth you’d chosen. As you perused the selections of old and new music, you tried to gauge the mood you were in. It had been a while since you were able to sneak away on your own. You were in the mood for some relaxation but a bit of fun. You tapped in the key combination and turned the knob, and waited for the tune to play. When the oldie by Rihanna “Pon de Replay” came on, you began flicking your hips from side to side until you began winding it. You heard the distant ring of a bell that signified someone else had entered the restaurant, but it didn’t register, you were too into the song.

When you really got into it, you dipped it low as instructed and began singing along. That was when your entire body got into it, and you tapped into your own inner bad gyal. When you turned around, you yelped loudly, drawing the attention of the waitstaff to you. Before you stood the person, you least expected to see. The crooked quirk of his lip gave him the most roguish look you’d ever seen, a look that shouldn’t have turned you on the way it had—but it did.

“Don’t stop on my account,” Chris teased with an impossibly deep voice. It never sounded that deep in interviews, you thought to yourself before your teeth sunk into your bottom lip. His cerulean eyes fell from yours to your mouth, and you watched as his tongue slowly slid across his lips. Your nipples beaded painfully, and you didn’t need to look down to know that if anyone looked, it would be more than noticeable.

Why are you turned on right now, you questioned in your head. There was no logical reason for it. Yes, he smelled—incredible. There was no way anyone should smell that good; it was impossible. He smelled like fruits, sea salt, sunshine, vanilla, and a very appealing musk. He smelled like he took four showers a day and took pride in being groomed to perfection. The more you thought about it, the harder your nipples got.

“Cat got your tongue?”

Clearing your throat, it came out most exaggeratedly with a long high pitch. Chris’s brows wrinkled as he looked at you as if there might have been something wrong with you.

“Uh—are you okay?”

Instead of words, it was terrifying giggles that came out, making you sound like a deranged, cackling Hyena. The look on Chris’s face only became more concerned. You cleared your throat again this time more naturally and straightened your back.

“What’re—what’re you doing—here?”

“In a public restaurant?”

“Yeah, this public space,” you clarified before you crossed your arms over your breasts. “It’s mine.”

“Yours? You own it?”

“No, but it’s my secret place.”

“Ah, I see. If it was so much of a secret, then how did I find it?”

He was contesting you, challenging you. It was at this moment you got the vibe from him that he was the type of man who liked to debate, compete, and win. A man like that should have had your red flags blaring, but no red flags were waving. The only thing that was waving in front of you was a deep curiosity to know this man in a way that you hadn’t wanted to know anyone before.

Shrugging, you walked back to your table and sat. He approached you all the while, never taking his eyes off of you. You bit your bottom and tried to keep your thoughts boring. Before either of you could speak again, the waitress came back with your order.

“Big Ben burger with the works and fries and a ginger ale with lemon slices.”

When she put it down, she looked to Chris, who dipped his head low and pulled down his hat. The woman looked as if she might have recognized him, but she didn’t speak; she just peered closer. You cleared your throat and slid your plate closer. It was enough to distract the woman.

“Will there be anything else, honey?”

“No, thank you.”

“And you? Will you be staying or going?”

Chris looked to you with one eyebrow raised. Your eyes met, and you saw the question in them. It was a mix of a question and a challenge. He expected you to answer. It would give you the control of the situation, and it would also make it so you’d have to blatantly turn him down in front of his face rather than ignoring him as you’d been doing the last few days. You bit your bottom lip and took a deep breath. You had enough balls to turn him down right here. You’d done worse to other guys—a lot worse. The question was, did you want to do it to him.

When you locked eyes with him again, an amused smile spread across his lips. You bit your bottom lip again and sighed.

“He will be staying,” you answered.

The waiter looked to you then to him and nodded. Chris slid into the booth before you still keeping eye contact. The longer he looked at you; the more unnerved you became.

“All right, what can I get you sugar?”

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

***If you want to be tagged please SEND AN ASK SO IT WILL BE EASIER FOR ME TO KEEP TRACK OF. Thank you for reading!!!***

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#In The Act fic #Chris Evans #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans x reader #chris evans x you #chris evans x black reader #chris evans x ofc #black fanfiction #slow burn fanfic

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