Fan Fics written by a Cookie - Currently writing: John Wick *** REQUESTS ARE CLOSED (completed fics 1/16)*** Hey Honey Bees~ Join in the 100 Follower Celebration Event! For more details follow this link -----> https://confessionsofacookie.tumblr.com/post/159737888934/100-followers-celebration-event-collaborative
John wick Sick Fic Reader is sick and John worries that she'll end up like Helen. For Snoozie P.s. I wrote this on my phone so please excuse the quality. I'm trying to be back. It felt like something was grating the back of my throat with a metal brush. I sighed and raised and placed a hand over my neck, lightly messaging the area with my thumb and fore finger. Stupid winter, stupid cold, stupid me for running outside as I woke up with no coat on when it started snowing. Now I was paying for my actions. I sniffled loudly and continued on with my book. A creak drew my attention away from the story and I looked up to see John using his large frame to push open the door - butt first. “I brought you some ginger tea and oranges,” he announced as he swung round to face me holding a wooden serving tray. I flipped the book over onto the comforter. A smile reached my lips “, thank you baby, but you need to stop worrying and checking in on me.” Gently he placed the tray over my covered legs and speared a piece of orange and offered it to me. “John,” I warned sternly as I frowned at his mock display of innocence. His hand remained, the piece of orange fruit hovering mere inches from my lips. I dipped my head and shook it knowing I’d loose anyway and bit it off the fork. “There’s a good girl,” he muttered approvingly as he spared another one “, you should try the tea, it’ll help with your throat.” “John I’m serious!” I started again, this time with more finesse. He repeated his tactic, the corners of his eyes crinkling as they always did when I got angry with him. “About?” He asked, the fork hovering in front of my mouth again. I dodged to the right “stop it and go rest! I only have the flu.” The fork followed. I moved to the left and the fork came to rest in front me again. Angrily I grabbed the fork from his hand and munched the fruit while glaring at him. I swallowed noisily, the fruit going down hard and painfully “, you've been in here fifteen times in the last hour!” He rocked back on the bed and looked at me, worry creasing his eyes “, I need to make sure that you’re alright.” I looked down and stared hard at the deep blue comforter and dishes before me. Calculating the words I wanted to say. I licked my lips moistening them “, I’m not going to die baby.” I looked up at him, he face looked so sunken and worn. I reached out to touch his arm and felt it tremble slightly “, I’m never going to leave you.” He nodded slowly, his broad shoulders slumped and tired. He shifted his weight and on hands and knees crawled to the opposite side of the bed and laid down. I watched him, a tiny smile on my lips “ you're gonna get the flu too you know.” He punched the pillow several times then faced me “, nope, never. I just want to be near you.” I chuckled and touched him on the nose “ never say never.” “I love you,” he whispered. I reached out a hand and stroked his cheek, his beard rough beneath my fingers “, and I you.” I don’t remember how or when but I drifted off. A wet, harsh exhale roused me from my slumber. I opened my eyes to the warm dim light of the afternoon and John’s bent frame and his hands to his nose blowing hard into a paper towel. I poked him with my foot and he turned, grinning with a sheepish expression. “Never say never mister,” I giggled.
i write. I take your requests and take the time of day when i’m supposed to be sleeping or spending time with family and write for you because just like myself it provides each and everyone of you a mini oasis away from your stressful, hectic, depressing lives or whatever situation you’re in where you feel you need a breather.
I appreciate all of you!
Someone left this wonderful message in my messages:
I just wanted to tell you that I love your stories. When a new one shows up I can't wait to find a quiet time and place to sit down and devour it. They take me away for just a little while from my very boring life. Please know that you are appreciated and that your stories are amazing!
Can u write an John Wick or Keanu Reeves imagine; him and the reader fought about a matter but they dont talk, dont sleep together etc so John/Keanu tries to fix that, thank youuu
your request has been queued! requests are currently still closed. This request has been gathering dust in my inbox for so long it would be rude of me not to add it to my queue.
It’ll take me a bit to write it but look out for it :D
For the Anon who asked: John and the Reader meeting at the Reader’s sister’s wedding reception
Author’s note: i would like to begin by saying - thank you all for still being here and sending me encouraging messages and get well notes. Things in my life haven’t been going very well and i wasn’t able to write. Writing for me is a form of coping mechanism when things in life get too unbearable or the world just gets too loud and i need to shut it out. Also i’m a very sad and lonely person and these characters i create even though they aren’t mine become my friends. I had more than half of a mind to not return to this blog HOWEVER i could not leave your request undone. To me that felt wrong.
I am continuing to write your previous requests but it will be slow to come out but it will come out. Requests will remain closed for now until I have about 3 remaining to write. Thank you once again for your love and patience.
Secondly, those of you who have a problem with my writing and thinks I do not post fast enough, please leave. Did you for one second stop to think that “hey this chick is doing this after an 8 hour shift at 2 in the morning for me, for no charge and out of the goodness of their heart. They’re not getting any form of recognition for it either, so maybe i should stop being a bloody pest and wait and if i don’t get it, think, well maybe she’s busy or doesn’t have the time to do this anymore?” but nah lemme be inconsiderate.
My answer to you is this: i will ignore you and ban you from my blog. This “ConfessionsofaCookie” is my space and i could do whatever the hell i want with it. So don’t be damn angry at me for banning your unshaped, lumpy arse, when you are the wrong ones.
Also the hate mail... like why? why waste your - you know what nvm.
Thirdly: Guess who’s back? Back again. Cookie’s back, tell a friend! ♪♫
Thinking Out Loud
“Ah!” exclaimed the coordinator as her bespectacled face spied me down the hallway “, I need you!”
“What now?” I muttered under my breath as I walked towards her.
“Yes?” I asked pointedly as I approached.
She scrutinised me over her frames for a second before she spoke “, I’m in the middle of fixing the venue and the flowers have arrived.”
Her phone beeped serval times and she paused to pull it out and check the screen. “Direct them to me,” she continued matter of factly and promptly walked off.
Why the hell was Amy paying her so much to organise her wedding but she busy asking other people to do her job? Angrily I walked off. The florists were waiting for me outside the front gate. The man punctually dropped the floral order in my hands before I could say hi.
“Well hello, to you too,” I greeted and looked over the order, signed the bottom right of the page and directed his staff to the venue.
I turned to leave. A tap on my shoulder made me look back.
“Yes?” I inquired. The florist removed a vase of flowers the truck and handed them to me “, this is for a Ms. Amy y/l/n from a Mr. Peter Capaldi.”
I smiled and sniffed the arrangement of creamy white calla lilies and the violet blue of the irises, my sister’s favourite flowers and combination. Ah, she was going to love this. A tiny pang rung in my chest, I hoped someday, something like this could happen to me, minus the all the drama though.
Clutching the vase, I carefully made my way up the walkway doing my best to dodge the bustling decorators and caterers. It was heavier than it looked. Finally, I reached the solid oak, front door, opened it and collided with a solid, warm, object. I stumbled backwards, water sloshing everywhere before the vase slipped from my grip splintering on the ground. Or more like it didn’t splinter.
A dark form was righting themselves holding a very intact vase of flowers. Chocolate almond eyes met mines and instinctually my cheeks heated.
“I am so, so, so sorry!” I apologized my voice an octave higher than normal.
“It’s okay,” he said, his voice deep and rough “, are you okay y/n.”
I froze and stared at him opened mouthed for a few seconds before finding my voice “, how do you know my name?”
“Ah,” replied the man, disappointment coating his voice and his eyes dropping from mines “, I guess I didn’t make much of an impression last time – you were very busy too.”
I stared at him, my brow furrowed trying to place this handsome stranger’s face .
“I’m Peter’s friend –“ he continued.
“Johnathon?” I cut in.
His eyes flicked to mines, a spark that made butterflies erupt in my stomach shone in them “, yes, but please, call me John.”
I smiled warmly at him “, I’m sorry I forgot. I’ve been – busy.”
I giggled behind a lifted hand, trying to diffuse my slight embarrassment.
He returned the smile, his eyes turning to mere slits and crinkling at the corners “, that’s okay, I understand.”
Someone shouted my name from inside breaking the spell. I sighed heavily.
“I’m sorry but, I have to go,” I mumbled apologetically.
He stepped aside and handed me the vase, the corners of his mouth drooping slightly “, I understand and I hope I get to see you again today.”
I walked past him into the doorway and turned “, I’d like that too.”
John shot me one more his charming smiles and walked away. I watched his tall, slender form for a few seconds before entering the war zone.
The heat was on as the wedding was only a few hours away. I bustled through the hall with the vase. My heel caught on the white carpet and I stumbled, water sloshed out of the vase spilling on the surroundings and diving in a cold flash down my exposed cleavage. I groaned outwardly.
I shook my head and marched to the nearest bathroom with the vase in tow. Swiping some tissue off the roll I did my best to wipe the liquid from the valley of my breasts. However, it soaked into my bra and the darkening spot under my bust was expanding.
I slumped onto the closed toilet seat and laid my head in my hands. I was up since the crack of dawn and the early morning hour was starting to claw at me. The door thankfully, muffled the excessant noise and chatter that was currently taking place outside. Mindlessly I rubbed two forefingers at my temples hoping to relieve the dull ache that was starting to take up residence.
Someone pounded on the door. I groaned and covered my ears, the ache in my head spiking.
“It’s occupied!” I snapped, further clamping my hands over my ears.
“y/n? It’s Lexa” called a concerned voice on the other side “, your sister needs you.”
I straightened and leaned back against the tank “, what’s the matter?”
“She just – just needs some support,” explained Lexa “, cold feet.”
I nodded at her words and rose “, tell her I’ll be there in a bit.”
“Okay,” she responded her voice a bit muffled like she was speaking and moving at the same time.
I stood, righted my clothes and headed for the room my sister was in. Softly I knocked on the door.
“Go away!” shouted a wobbly voice.
I rolled my eyes at the tone and pushed open the door “, delivery.”
I barely had time to place the vase down before my sister, in a flurry of gauzy white sprinted into my arms.
“I don’t know if I can do this,” she choked out on my shoulder.
Gently I peeled her off of me, mindful of the wet spot on my dress. Carefully I sat her on the chair by the large, cream vanity. A present from my father for her birthday a few years back. I knelt in front of her, grasping her tiny delicate fingers. They were clammy and cold. I pressed them to my lips, a pang of sadness striking a chord in my heart.
I gazed at her softly, my heart crunching at her dismay “, do you love Peter?”
She nodded slowly, her head drooped and chin tucked into her chest. Her usually small eyes looking so big and childlike at me now. Complete earnest and trust in them as she gazed at me for some form of comfort or affirmation. She was older than me by a few years by I couldn’t help but notice how young she looked at this moment, even with all the makeup.
“Then what’s wrong?” I asked placatingly, my eyes never breaking their gaze on hers.
She gazed at me fully and a fat tear spilled down her cheek. I understood then and felt my own emotions rising to meet hers. All the time we had spent together, the fights, the laughter, the cuddles in the night, the gossip, the announcement to me when she first met Peter and when he proposed. These emotions and moments were etched and infused in this room. We weren’t children anymore, we wouldn’t be each other’s anymore, she would be his from this day forward and he would be hers.
I sprang up onto my knees and grasped her small trembling frame tightly.
I sniffled loudly and closed my eyes tightly “, you are mines and I am yours and there is nothing in this world I still wouldn’t do for you just because you’re getting married.”
She laughed a bit and returned my hug with equal vigour.
“I still think you’re an idiot with no common sense – I mean what the blazes did he see in you?!” I added with a smirk.
“Ouch!” I shrieked and pulled back with a jerk, rubbing my stinging side.
She watched me with narrowed eyes “, why are you so miserable?”
I sat back onto the floor with a thump rubbing my aching shoulder “, why are you so abusive?!”
She slid onto the floor with me and hugged me once again “, thank you and I hope that one day you too can find your own happiness with someone.”
She pulled back and surveyed my clothing, an eyebrow arching disapproval “, what are you wearing?”
I rolled my eyes at her, stood and stalked towards the door “, well now that you’re feeling better, I’m going to get dressed.”
I closed the door behind me with a click and signaled to Lexa who was lurking in the hallway “, she’s fine now.”
The wedding ceremony went by like a blur. First I was hugging my sister in the bridal room while she was getting dressed and then in the blink of an eye she’s sitting at the head table arm in arm with her husband. Her beautiful face, radiating such joy and happiness. A happiness some part of me hoped to have someday. A small crushing sensation filled my chest making it a bit difficult to breath. I was losing my sister after all these years we’ve fought, laughed and cried together. I spun quickly, choking down a sob and walked to get a slice of cake.
The cake had vanished. I stood blinking in shock, with a plate and fork in hand. Not a slice of the decadent chocolate, layered cream cake had remained. Not even a stinking crumb. Now I felt like crying.
I turned my face upward to the white, lit tent cover and huffed a dry laugh. Shaking my hand ruefully, I chucked the dish and fork to the side. I really couldn’t believe this. My sister’s wedding and I couldn’t even get a slice of cake. Ouch! That hurt.
“You could have my slice if you like,” said a deep voice behind me.
I turned and smiled, my heading dipping slightly. A soft feminine laugh I didn’t know I was capable escaped my lips. “I couldn’t do that to you, John.”
“I don’t mind – I don’t have a big sweet tooth,” he said closing the distance between us.”
My stomach did a little flip. I looked at him, his hair as black as the night was beginning to separate from his swept back do and fall in inky black spikes around his face. Somehow, I found I liked him better like this.
He smiled softly as he offered me the plate, his dark almond eyes crinkling slightly at the corners. I took the plate and stared at the beautiful wedge of chocolate cake.
“How about we share?” I offered with a tilt of the head.
He placed his hands in his pockets and nodded, the smile still on his lips “, sounds good to me.”
I grinned at him and swiped the fork off the empty plate I was previously holding.
“Let’s sit by the swing,” I said and walked off in its direction.
He followed like a quiet, grey shadow.
“Wait!” he called just as I was about to sit.
I spun unsure of what was happening. John shrugged off his coat and laid it on the seat.
“Can’t have your dress dirty,” he said and sat, then patted the empty space beside him where his jacket lay.
A warmth spread across my cheeks. Giddily I sat on the old wooden bench and slipped off my heels.
“You didn’t have to do that,” I said softly, unsure of the mood.
John didn’t respond and looked towards the merriment and ruckus that was currently taking place beneath the tent. My sister and her husband were hoisted on chairs and being toted around in the air by the groom’s friends.
I giggled and offered John the plate “, cake.”
“Lady’s first.”
I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear “, I insist.”
John chuckled, straightened and cut a small piece of cake from the wedge. Slowly he chewed on the piece.
“What do you think?” I asked with a frown.
“It’s good!” he praised, his eyes directed at the slice.
I breathed a mock sigh of relief “, whew! Had me worried that I picked something that tasted bad.”
He rocked back onto the back rest and chuffed a laugh. I took a nibble of the cake and my tasted buds exploded. I sighed happily and let myself be carted away by the richness of the flavour.
“It’s so good!” I moaned, waving my fork like a wand in the air.
John stared at me, his forehead creasing in a frown. Nervously I peeked behind me “, what?”
His faced smoothed and he leaned forward “, you have chocolate on your face.”
My eyes widened in horror. Blindly I wiped my face, heat flooding my cheeks. Here I was with a gorgeous man and I was making a mess like a five-year-old. I was entirely sure five year olds ate neater than me.
John chuckled and leaned closer “, it’s still there.”
Carefully he reached forward and with an index finger wiped the chocolate off, the callous of his finger scraping my cheek.
“Sorry,” I apologised and shot him a scrunched-up smile.
“You don’t need to apologise,” he said and with the flick of his tongue licked the chocolate residue off his finger.
Heat filled my stomach and trickled between my legs. I wouldn’t mind having his tongue on me… more like in me. I clenched my thighs together, my posture stiffening.
“And now it’s time for the bride and groom to have their first dance together,” announced the MC.
Instantly the feeling dispersed. I looked to the lit tent several feet away. The dance floor was clear except for my sister and brother-in-law. He was holding her hand escorting her onto the floor, their faces red with laughter and alcohol.
Slowly a guitar sprang to life on the speakers, a bluesy rhythm beginning. Grasping her waist gently and tenderly he pulled her closer to him, his eyes only on her and for her. He gave her a peck on the forehead before resting his against hers. I couldn’t see but I was sure their eyes were closed.
When your legs don't work like they used to before
And I can't sweep you off of your feet
I smiled sadly at them, my shoulders caving. John’s clothes rustled as he stood. I looked up as he faced me, his hand extended.
“May I have the honour of this dance?” he asked, his dark eyes luminous.
Will your mouth still remember the taste of my love
Will your eyes still smile from your cheeks
I ducked my chin and smiled “, yes.”
Carefully I placed the plate on the bench and grasped his outstretched hand.
And darling I will be loving you 'til we're 70
He pulled me to him, his hand resting gently on my waist and the other cradling my hand. I didn’t realise how tall he was until now.
And baby my heart could still fall as hard at 23
He towered above me without my shoes. His dark eyes stared into mines in the gloom as we swayed to the music.
“And I'm thinking 'bout how people fall in love in mysterious ways,” he crooned in time with the music.
I cocked my head to the right and gazed him. Could it really be?
It felt like another lifetime when the song ended and a burst of applause split through the garden. We stopped, still wrapped in each other and stared at the procession. That was the last dance of the night and my sister would be leaving for her honeymoon soon.
I stepped away from John “, I have to go, my sister would be leaving soon and I’d like to say goodbye.”
He lowered his head in understanding, his hand finding their way back into his pockets. I gathered my shoes and turned to leave, the grass crunching softly beneath my bare feet.
“Can I see you again?” called John.
I stopped and turned. He had put back on his jacket and was holding the plate of cake.
“Yes,” I responded and gave him my most brilliant smile “, I would like that very much and thank you for the cake.”
Authors Note: The names i used for the two people in this were from two shows i love. Peter is the 12th Doctor and Lexa is the Commander from the 100 (someone get me a Bellamy Blake please) Amy is my sister’s middle name and she’s in love with the 12th doctor *rolls eyes*
Rules: Answer the questions and tag 9 people you want to get to know better.
Tagged by @coyoteimagines (her Chuck Hansen Fics are the BOMB) oh btw you should check her blog out! This chick can write - i shrivel in comparison to her :D
Relationship status: Single :D
Favorite colour: Green (I lean more to mint tho and emerald and the kind of olive) (well it seems it’s a more popular colour than I thought!)
Lipstick or chapstick: It honest to God doesn’t matter sometimes. Hell, i’ll use Vaseline if i can’t find anything and a dab of pink or red eye shadow on top of it
Last song you listened to: Sign of the Times - Harry Styles and everything by 2 Cellos (there’s something about that deep rich sound that echos and speaks to my soul) and Liability by Lorde is the song of my life... so sad and alone *wibbles*
Last movie you watched: Logan... my heart man, my heart!
Top 3 characters: Rhysand, Amren... (why is it when people ask you these things you can never remember?!) John Wick (eheheheheeeeee)
Top 3 ships: Bellamy and Clarke (the 100), Mike and 11 (stranger Things) and Nancy and Jonathon (Stranger Things) The Niña, Pinta and the Santa Maria. <------ this answer was from coyote imagines and it was super epic, so i’m keeping it! (Daryl Dixon and Me? maybe :D) how could i forget SYDRIAN (i know, i know more than 3 sorry.... i just have so much love and no one to give it to sometimes T_T)
Books you are currently reading: A Court of Thorns and Roses THESE BOOKS GIVE ME LIFE!!!!! Six of Crows MY BABIES!!!!! Fever Series - MAC girl you BAE and Dani WTF and Ryodan WTFFFFFFFFFFF?! Black Dagger Brotherhood .... JM you vexing me bad, Dresden Files a bit indifferent about them, Letters to the Lost was really sweet
Top 5 musicals: Phantom of the Operaaaaa (Love of my FREAKING LIFE! I legit has the CD and play it all the time and I cannot watch the ending ever because I’ll sob like a kid who’s ice cream fell of the cone), Sound of Music, Moulin Rouge, All Things Disney and High School Musical (I would love to see a Broadway Show!)
hey~ not sick anymore just going round with a sledgehammer trying to carve my way in the world and so far this whole migratory movement hasn’t gone very well so far :/
hi~ things aren’t so good right now as i mention previously. I dn’t want to post any mediocre work. I will be taking a bit of a leave of absence from tumblr for a bit :/ sorry but i’ll be back with your fics in July. I PROMISE you all that. Gosh i wish someone could visit me when i work and give me a big hug :( and then my birthday is coming up and it’s most likely going to be awful again... sigh.
hey! i still have them written down but my living situation is a bit tricky and we’re sorting it out and i don’t have the mental capacity to put out any kind of work. I am really sorry but i’ll jump back on the wagon as soon as possible :) hold on until July
Morrigan: Her power is truth, but she’s been living a lie.
Amren: The True Immortal, the Destroyer incarnate, a plague given form—yet she left her Father’s realm, fell from grace, because she was born with a curious heart and wondered what it would be like to love and hate and build.
Cassian: The Prince of Bastards, God of Warriors, bravest of all Illyrians—yet he is a coward at love.
Nesta: An unmoving, unflinching pillar of steel and flame, Goddess of Death, but she feels more deeply than anyone.
Azriel: Singer of shadows, master of secrets, but his deepest secrets are written on his face.
Elain: The kind hearted seer if all, yet no one sees her.
Rhysand: The vicious, deadly High Lord of Night, feared throughout the land—yet he would gladly sacrifice himself for those he loves.
Feyre: The Cursebreaker with a human heart, the starving Bride of Spring—the wolf they did not see coming.
Stryga: The Weaver, an old God of Death, she consumed life because she could not live.
The Bone Carver: The forgotten twin of the Weaver, an old God of Life, he obsessed over death because he, himself, could not die.
The Suriel: Ancient, all knowing, and hideous like a nightmare—but inside lay the heart of a dreamer.
Bryaxis: The face of deepest fears, drinker of dread, the presence in the darkness … but all it wanted was light.
I wanted to highlight a few of my favorite references in ACOWAR because it really does make the story way more fun! (These are mostly my own observations/ideas and nothing too official).
I’ll add more tomorrow when I have time… but off the top of my head I remember:
Koeschi: probably from the Russian folk tale Koschei the Deathless
Stryga: the same name as that main chimera on Notre Dame!
Vassa: a reference to the Russian folk tale The Firebird and Princess Vasilia (although her story also sounds like it’s blended with Swan Lake). So that would mean that Koeschi is her kidnapper…
I got serious Exodus vibes from Nephelle’s story
Lord Thanatos. lol
Thesan, the Etruscan Goddess of dawn
the Morrigan (which still makes me so happy)
Andromache
pretty sure Azriel is named after Azrael, the Angel of Death
Madja the healer: I read about an ancient Egyptian archeological site where they found a healer’s body and named her Madja but maybe that’s a total coincidence
not sure if Dagdan is a reference to The Dagda but that was my first thought… especially the association with the cauldron
Idk if Elain is a reference to the Arthurian legend where Elaine the Fair (or The Lady of Shallott if you’re an Anne of Green Gables fan) dies of unrequited love… but that kind of fits.
the Myrmidons: I’m taking this in the Achilles context
Eris, the Greek goddess of discord
I think the Illyrian stuff is obvious but there’s that
Helion’s probably a form of Helios, the Titan god of the sun
I totally googled this after a certain plot point: Lucien means “light/illumination” and that’s rather fitting haha. He’s also a prince in Persian mythology buuut I don’t think that really fits.
the Naga
And this is old news but still makes me sad when people don’t know it, so: the ancient Scottish ballad of Tam Lin
Ouroboros!
and then there are the obvious influences in earlier books of Beauty & the Beast, Hades/Persephone, Cinderella (with how she had to pick the lentils out of the fireplace before she could go to the “ball” in ACOTAR), East of the Sun West of the Moon, etc…
Ok I feel like I’m forgetting a ton and I know I’ve read about a Brannagh before, so let me think on a few and add more later! I just love mythology and how many reference Maas can throw into one book.
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