Just a dump of CE x Female Reader one shots/short stories. Lots of fluff, smut, angst and everything in between.
FYI updates will be infrequent and whenever I feel inspired to do so.
Otherwise I'm open to requests and ideas ❤️
summary/request: Hello!! Could I request a chris imagine where he and Y/N have been bicjering all day and he raises his voice at her in front of friends or family and she kind of recoils and then he feels like shit. A hapoy ending please! Need some hapoy endings haha💛
pairing: frank adler x fem!reader
warning: 18+, angst fluff magic, contains some language on the side
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There's no levelling with Frank Adler. He is a virtuously stubborn man, nearly impossible to talk down and you could almost blame his mother for the acquired trait that he wouldn't legitimatize knowingly. It was inherent, incubus to his nature that even with your best wager he'd still don that mangy old Hawaiian button up as a retaliating fashion statement, convincing you it was good enough.
"You're seriously not wearing that." You launch with despair, glaring at the crooning boat mechanic who'd never allow himself to walk into a Gap if it meant that it would potentially save his life. Maybe even facet yours.
The motions of Memorial day had been a galling spiral, Mary would know as she'd been pitifully caught in the middle of it all while running her own discourse.
"C'mon Fred let's get out of here, they're at it again." She grumbles under her breath while quietly scooping up one eyed tabby by its underbelly. Her tiny feet stomp away before you choose to chuck more Lego pieces at Frank who stood by the bedroom door with his veiny hands propped on his hips; a standoff was ready to ensue.
"And what's wrong with this shirt?" He malignantly quips, bowing down to examine the stonewashed chemise that was smattered with brown leafing over a deep mustard canvas. He never did have an iota of care except for when it came to Mary, that's when the world below her feet mattered and rightfully so. But with your sanguine request Frank doesn't budge one bit, testing your love and his, which in recent times came at a stagnant trifold.
"You can tell that it's been through the ringer." You shift across the kitchenette, snapping Tupperware lids and packing up the potato salad and bread pudding that you had whipped up for the occasion. You were doing your best. "Don't you have anything better? Nicer?"
"Nope, this is it - this is all I have." He confirms, scooting past you with less inclination and all the wrought out frown lines gracing his features. "Mary!"
"No you're changing." You snap in synchronous to the overhead cabinet door that swings shut for added effect.
"Look, it's just Roberta, I'm sure she won't mind." He sternly tells you, leaning with an indescribable look that certainly doesn't sway your affirmations.
"I mind, this is execrable Frank." You reiterate and soon the heavens call out to him.
"Oh will you stop that?" He winces, aging himself to be the cranky old man he'd ought to be. It's a terribly programmed look, soured like a overgrown child trying to throw a tantrum or at least the cusp of one.
