Lavender kiss

She/her 💜💜 Fanfics, little povs, headcanons

[cherryteapink]

Her song is for the demon (раrt 2)

Mafia Victor Creed x chubby short fem reader

When the last notes of the song left your lips, your eyes saw these approving perverted looks of some men. It's just disgusting and uncomfortable, but it's work. So going backstage, all you could think about was drinking a glass of white wine and maybe listening to Charlie's jokes that would brighten up the evening a little, but a young man in a tuxedo caught your attention. The man looked a couple of years younger than you, short dark hair, gray-blue eyes and what caught your attention was a long scar on his lip. At first you wanted to ignore it, maybe it was some kind of underground fan, but the man adjusted his tie and with a somewhat imperious gesture extended his gloved hand - "Miss, someone wants to see you.."

You raised an eyebrow, skeptically crossing your arms over your chest - "First of all, my job is to sing, if you want to have fun with someone, there's a pawnshop with whores across the bar, secondly, I refuse, I have my own principles.."

The man says angrily, grabbing her hand and leading her to one of the booths - "Miss, please do as I say, you have no choice, just like I do in this. My boss is interested in you and believe me, you don't want any problems with this.."

You are surprised by the impudence of this man, you raised your hand to slap him on the cheek, who has the right to treat him like that. Your thoughts were cut through by a deep voice from the booth - "oh, Houston, good job, now leave me with her.."

You turned your head to see the stranger. The man was tall, so tall that you would have to lift your head if he were standing, with disheveled blond hair, stubble that was carelessly trimmed, yellow animal eyes that looked wildly. The man leaned back in his chair and, taking a sip of whiskey from his glass, motioned with his finger for you to come closer - "come here, lass, I don't bite, just a conversation and maybe if we get along well, there will be an offer.."

You took a hesitant step, seeing how the man's pupils looked with amusement, as if a wolf was tracking down prey, but with pursed lips, you sat down opposite him and, remaining calm, despite some discomfort in your soul, gathered yourself and said with a certain intonation - "So why did you call me, mister? If you want me to sing for you individually, you will have to agree not with me, but with my boss.."

The man put down the glass and put his clawed hands on the table and muttered in a neutral tone - "What made you think I wanted to negotiate with this old fart? Believe me, my dear..." - pausing and the corners of his lips rose into a menacing smile and for demonstration he lowered his tone into a quiet, small threat - "I could destroy this place with my status and turn the walls red. Do you understand what I'm talking about?" - seeing your confused and anxious look, he burst into a hoarse laugh and clearing his throat - "Oh, okay, the conversation didn't start that way, I'm Victor Creed, one of the leaders of the Walden X mafia, I would demand you as my own singer.."

You blinked eyes in surprise, there were two sides in your head - distrust and skepticism, that it was better not to get involved with this, and on the other side - opportunity and intrigue, seeing that this man is a mafia, you might have some opportunities, but it is unknown what else this man would want from you. Considering the options, you looked at those wild eyes - "First, how do I know that my life will be safe, and secondly, if I give up this, what will happen?"

Victor clicked his tongue irritably and said indifferently - "You can refuse, my dear, but look at yourself and the reality of life, I'm not a stupid man and I can smell your hatred for this place.." - with a light gesture of his hand he lit a cigarette and raised it to his lips, contentedly inhaling the cigarette and exhaling the smoke - "You want to be popular, your thirst for a new life and greed to be noticed, in the center of attention.. Isn't that right, sweetie? Of course, I can choose any naive fool, if you don't want this, keep working for some pitiful 300 dollars."

Your eyes widened as the man described your shortcomings like an open book, realizing that he was right, but you shook your head in disbelief that this was some kind of trap, a "golden cage" so to speak, but who cared. When Victor stood up, you raised your hand, also standing up and considering the option-"I agree, but I need to know what you are giving in exchange for this, I am not a stupid idiot to accept a deal without a signature and without knowing what the conditions will be.."

Victor snapped his fingers, to which one of his lackeys gave you a document in your hands. Victor explained, giving you a pen - "Well, my proposals for the conditions - you live in my estate, have a good opportunity for exquisite shit, as I would describe it, I will also give money and protection, but you understand one thing, my dear, I expect three things from you - this is loyalty, if you betray me I will personally kill you without hesitation, secondly, try to sing when I want, when I say that I will have guests tomorrow and want a concert, you will do it and I don't care about your refusals, and thirdly, what I demand from you is that you will, despite what I do for you, listen to me, I hate spoiled women.. I hope you understand this?"

As you read the terms in the document, carefully running your eyes over the lines of text, take a pen and firmly sign the document, you will not be stopped by the fact that you will actually be dealing with the devil.

[cherryteapink]

Her song is for the demon (part 1)

Mafia Victor Creed x chubby short fem reader

"Are you ready, dear? I'm sure Charlie will look at you again when you sing on stage..." - your work colleague Molly said, adjusting the makeup on your face, you silently pursed your lips, red as fresh wine.

This job might seem to the naive that singing on stage in a bar is easy and nothing special. No, the Red Apple bar was located in a dangerous center and was a place where not only some Fridays gathered, but also bandits, mafiosi, whores, murderers. For Mr. Oliver, your boss, it didn't matter, the greedy old man had a business, even if dealing with dangerous people, especially if they were mafiosi, it was a big profit. You worked, not by choice, but in order to somehow show off your beautiful talent - singing, the only thing you know how to do. This disgusting place is the only place where you can show off, and those dreams of performing in a fancy theater were thrown away like garbage. When Molly finally fixed your hair and added a mole to your cheek, she pushed you towards the door, giving you some support. You stood up, heels clacked on the floorboards, took a sip of fresh air, left the dressing room. Again those drunken expressions of men, lust, your disgust at this, a restrained polite smile. Passing to the stage, you saw from afar how the bartender young Charlie looked at you with a charming smile and winked. You smiled restrainedly, Charlie is cute, but you saw him as just a friend. Here the unbearable voice of your boss Mr. Jones cut through your thoughts calling and irritably holding the paper - "My demands on you are to sing seductively, there will be special guests today, it should show that the place has a touch of danger.. "- seeing your look, the old man says irritably-"young lady, you must do it professionally, smile and be playful during the performance.. "

You were already silently cursing this and the boss's wishes in your mind, but you nodded restrainedly, wanting to work functionally. To be playful and sing seductively seriously? You went backstage, waiting for the jazz music of the band on stage to start playing. The flash of lights on the stage, the whistle of some men, you proudly raised your head and calmly left the backstage and approached the microphone singing with some coquetry and restraint, not wanting to give these people pleasure.

Meanwhile, in the places of honor where usually sat the bar - mafia or rich clients who wanted to have fun sat a tall man with a calm neutral expression on his face, but his yellow wild animal eyes looked with interest at the stage where the plump singer was singing, his fingers monotonously clicked on a glass with expensive whiskey on ice. A couple of lackeys from his gang were sitting next to him, also drinking whiskey. The man adjusted his tie and took a sip, his tongue licked the last drop of the drink, showing his fangs and said to one lackey, pointing at the stage with his claw - "Houston, do you see this little birdie? After the performance, let her come to my booth, I want to treat her to a drink and have a few words with her.."

[cherryteapink]

A step longer than the distance between us (1 part)

Logan Howlett ( comics books version) x tall fem reader

Sometimes the opposite gives notes of contradiction and non-standard. Calmness, pleasant intonation of voice, care, but tall stature and insecurity.

That's how you could be described, if anyone could describe you. From your early days as an X-Man, you drew attention because you were 6'1" tall, but that also gave you a certain grace. The concern, that look that gave a slight touch of calm to the person you were talking to, the way you leaned forward and tilted your head, that habit of listening intently to someone.

Logan watched this, your smell, your manner of speaking, your gestures.. He remembered your first meeting with him, because when he was again annoyed with Scott and hurried along the corridor of the estate, he bumped into you, out of habit, unceremoniously said a couple of swear words, you only looked at him worriedly and tilted your head to the side and apologized for it. This gesture is in his memory, the pleasant smell of vanilla and a friendly look with a hint of uncertainty.

This rude mutant didn't really talk to you, he didn't need to, but he asked for details. For example, evening, it meant that he could hear the rustle of the book you were reading.. Warm slow rain, it meant a walk in the open air to forget about worries.. Daisies, it was when you went to the forest after training and collected them, and then these flowers could be in a vase near the balcony of your room..

It was Friday, classes were over and training too, Logan wanted to have a drink at the bar, maybe start a fight there. Oh, the bar was his favorite, Logan ordered a whiskey drink, another, another, and another. He didn't care about the hangover, having a healing factor. 12 o'clock at night, Logan returned to the estate and saw the light in the kitchen. He opened the door and saw you making herbal tea, your floral print nightgown fluttering as you walked. You looked up and only modestly said without judgment - "hard day?"

What did you put your cup of tea on and mumble - "insomnia, there are nights when I can't sleep.."

Logan nodded, these were rare moments when the two of you chatted outside of the mission, training or some other topic. You paid attention, always noticing the small details, that he was irritated by something and without pressure you placed a cup with a calming brew next to him, which usually helped many and taking the cup with your tea you left. Logan looked at the cup and then at your tall figure who surrendered and then hesitantly took it sniffing the brew first and tasted it, it tasted pleasant, something like peach and some other healing herbs, which gave a multifaceted taste.