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And Finally...😃 I really love this story. How did you write everything so well? It was really worth the wait. The dialogues were great. Nick was exactly as sweet as he was in the movie. I loved this part :
“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-.”
Now the question is this. How can I wait for the next episodes? Thank you very much, you are great, my dear💛💛💛
And...he is one day younger than Chris? :)
OMGGGG THANK YOU SO MUCH LOVELY 🥺🥺
Next part will take a little but i PROMISE not as long as last time 💕💕
(i missed up Chris's bday thats why... but shhh)
Hey lovely! Which story is this 💕///
Oh sorry. I was so exited i forgot to mention the fic. It was Chris and Curvy reader. There are 3 parts of it. They are so good. Would you mind wite more about them? Like headcanons of dif events? Going on a date, someone is sick, first "i love you"...
I love this!!! I'll definitely keep this going with headcanons if you send in reqs for individual headcanons I would defs do this! 😘😘
Chris shit with her again...tge only thing that can make me feel better and get me out of Chris is this Nick Voughan new fic
Girl.... I agree! I am working on fics now!! So you'll see a lot of me over the weekend 😘💕
“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.
HI, could you write about frank adler being a single (again) uncle and meets a new female bartender, reader in his usual bar. Both of them hit it off and started dating for about two months. frank introduced her to his niece, mary
Making his way into his usual, Fergs, on a quiet Thursday night, Frank didn’t expect anything different. Place still looked the same; dimly lit with neon bar signs covering the walls and the smell of old beer. It felt like a second home, predictable, familiar and warm (due to the fact that they haven’t gotten that goddamn AC fixed). He settled onto the counter, head lowered waiting for his usual to appear magically in front of him like always.
“What can I getcha?” The voice wasnt from the usual gritty bar manager. For one it was feminine, young and perky.
Frank couldn’t help his eyebrows raising at the sight of you. Sure they’ve hired pretty girls before but they usually didn’t last the week trying to keep up with demand while also hindering the advances of regulars. So how a beautiful <your hair colour> in a white tank top and denim short shorts was still here was a mystery to Frank.
“Umm yeah hi can I just get umm.. just a..” he stumbled on his words trying to avoid your questioning gaze.
“A beer?”
“Yeah that.” Frank gave a flat smile.
You undid the cap on the edge of the bar, Frank holding out his hand expectantly but you held the bottle away from him, holding it just above your shoulder. Raising an eyebrow expectantly.
“Please?” Frank said hesitantly.
“And…” You slowly inched it towards the bar top.
“Thank you.” It was becoming increasingly clear to him how you have survived here. You don’t put up with shit.
You placed the beer in front of him “Manners..” you trailed
“Maketh a man. William Horman.”
“Yes.” You smiled down at him from the bar.
“What are you doing here?” He said outwardly.
“Working.”
“Oh I see that. I meant what is someone like YOU doing HERE?"
“What is someone like me… exactly?” You placed your palms on the bar, leaning into him closer.
He took a long swig of his drink. Sighing in contentment at the taste.
“Too smart to be a bar maid, too classy for Coors beer and way too pretty for a place like this.”
You looked around at the empty bar with a few drunk stragglers. Taking the beer from his hands you took a long swing. “I am never too good for Coors beer.”
Frank let out a low whistle “That’s good to know.”
“I’m Frank by the way.” He held out his hand for you to shake.
“Y/N.” You shook his hand.
“Nice to meet you.” He smirked
“Likewise.” You bit your bottom lip.
“So when do you get off?” He smirked devilishy.
“So she’s not like other kids.” Frank looked over at you, peering over his sunglasses.
“What do you considered “other kids”…”
“She spends a lot of time with adults so she talks a bit differently.”
You shrug “I’m sure she’s fine, she’s got a good uncle.” He grabbed your hand, placing it under his as he moved the gear shift.
“She just takes a while to warm up to people so I just don’t want you to be discouraged.”
“Frank, she doesn’t bite.” You waved him off.
“No she grew out of that 2 years ago.” He joked with you.
He pulled into the driveway of their humble abode. Paint falling off the rackety old porch framed by the half dead grass from a hot blazing summer. You loved it. It was Frank, imperfect yet homey.
You got out of his truck and waited for him to lead towards the screen door with an obvious hole that had been scratched out by a cat desperate to decide when and where they go.
Hearing the sound of car doors being shut, Roberta made her way out. Taking one look at you, she stopped in her tracks, placing a
hand on her hip.
“Well my goodness you are prettier than he described.”
“Why thank you Miss Taylor.” You let her embrace you in warm tight hug.
Her chin resting on your shoulder, she raised her eyes in excitement at Frank behind you.
“Alright break it up you two.” He pulled you back into his side.
“Thanks for watching her.” He gave the woman a warm smile.
“Anytime, now I gotta go but it was lovely to meet you and hey don’t take what she says to heart… she takes a while to warm up.”
“I’ve been told! Hopefully this goes well and I’ll be seeing more of you.” She gave you and Frank both a quick kiss to the cheek.
“You ready?” He whispered in your ear as you both stood in front of the door separating you from your make or break meeting.
You readjusted your bag strap on your shoulder, taking a deep breath “Ready.” With that he pushed open the screen.
“Mary… I’m home. We’ve got company.”
You both walked into the living room where the young girl sat, mindlessly stacking lego blocks on the floor, ignoring the calls of her uncle.
“Hi Mary, I’m-“ You started to introduce yourself in your high pitched little kid voice.
“Did he pick you up at Fergs?” She said dryly.
“Close! I work at Fergs.” You gave a tense smile.
“That’s a stark change isn’t it Frank?”
“Mary!” He scolded.
You placed your hand on his shoulder mouthing it’s okay as you walked a little closer towards her.
“Frank said you’re pretty smart.”
“I’ve gotten “baby Einstein” once or twice.” She replied, not looking up from the floor.
“I was thinking more Hypatia.” She stopped her movements, looking up at you for the first time quizzically.
“Whose that?”
“Oh you don’t know who Hypatia was?” You said in faux shock.
She shook her head.
“Huh… well for one she was a girl…” You stalked towards her, plopping down on the mat beside her.
Pulling your legs up to your chest, hugging your knees. Her lack of running away was a good start so you went on…
“She was a mathematician in ancient Egypt back in a time were only men were allowed to do math.”
“Women can do math too!” She piped up, brows furrowed.
“Oh I agree! Well she figured out a way for ships to navigate and I think I have… oh here it is!” You reached into your bag, pulling out a thick book on the ancient academic that you had secretly brought for her.
It was brand new with a glossy cover and you threw it around your trailer a couple of times beforehand to make it look worn and read. You had read it of course but maths wasn’t really your thing, the history of women on the other hand… you were always down.
“Can I please see?” She looked up at you with doe eyes, biting her bottom lip, desperate to flick through the pages.
“Yeah you can have it. I already read it. I’m onto Beyond Good and Evil now.”
“By Friedrich Nietzsche?” She smiled at the common interest found.
You nodded, eyes widened at her.
She looked up at Frank; “I like this one.”
He leaned against the doorway, watching you two in amazement. No one got Mary besides him and Roberta but now he’s starting to think that no one had tried like you. No one bothered to listen when he’d tell them that talk of Barbies and pink nail polish didnt get her interested. That she was pulling thick academia books from the shelf at age 4, desperate to absorb the knowledge they held. How she wanted to be talked to like an equal or better yet be given the materials to have what she so desperately craved. Have someone listen, guide her, talk to her as she was and not try and dumb things down. And here you were, making her eyes light up and hanging on your every word.
“Good. I’ll leave you two to it then I guess.” He said simply tapping the frame before making his way into the kitchen to prepare his two girls a snack. Smiling like an idiot. Yeah you were a keeper.
For you @atoosa22 💕☘️
Headcanon ideas
.Super curious Chris about pregnancy that is sooo cute and annoying for his pregnant wife
.Chris start to cheer his gf up.how?with stupid cheesy pick up lines
"Why da face?" Chris walked in your shared bedroom, oreos in hand with one half way in his mouth.
You rolled over dramatically, pulling the covers under your chin
"Just that work thing, I have to work with that lazy, mother-."
"Carol." He said flatly
"Yes! Carol! It's always Carol."
He plumped in the spot next to you.
"Hey honey..." He cooed.
"What." You sat up, moving next to him.
Twisting the oreo in his hand, he moved the frosted side in your direction.
"You're my better half." He said, showing a goofy grin.
You paused, staring at him with a flat expression, the corner of your lip creasing slightly, you couldn’t hold back the all out laughter.
"You're the cringiest person i have ever met." You gasped through laughs.
"Yeah but it worked to make my girl smile didn't it"
You grabbed the cookie half from him, shoving the whole thing in your mouth.
Hi. Sorry for asking this again. When do you post Nick Vaughan series?
Haven’t posted it yet and its cause I haven’t even started! I’ve been so busy and exhausted and I’m going on holiday soon so it’s a lot going on. I’m sorry!! I’m working on it 💕🍀
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! 🥰
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.