Clover ☘️ | 21+ | Content 18+ minors please do not interact, go play with Barbie or something! You don’t wanna be old it sucks | If you like my writing CE and characters ✨REQUEST ARE OPEN ✨
150 posts
I have no excuse for this
What about chubbish and kind reader getting criticized for dating the world's sexiest man of 2022, she felt upset and cries. Chris felt angry at the people who doesn't know about his girlfriend
You smiled at the photo of you two, dressed up before a night out. Chris lips lovingly on your cheeks as you smiled happily. You thought you looked great in your new skin tight dress. Sure it showed a few insecurities but you hoped the black would hide it. Your makeup and hair was all done up and Chris couldn’t stop loving on you all night.
You chuckled at the sweet yet corny caption. He would never live it down - would he? You shook your head, grinning like an idiot.
Fighting your better instinct, you went through the comments, chewing your thumb nail as you eyes laid on the key words:
“Fat”
“Cow”
“She takes up the whole mirror.”
“It should be illegal for someone like her to wear a dress like that”
“Chris Evans is legally blind if he thinks she’s sexy”
You licked the taste of salty tears that had landed on your upper lip. You took a shaky breathe out as you quickly wiped away the tears that were forming. You felt pathetic, crying about what a bunch of nobody’s had to say about your body. They were jealous, they didn’t know you, they were protective of their internet boyfriend - your mind ran through all the reasons for such vile comments but that still didn’t stop the feeling of sadness and inadequacy that ran through you.
That was until a wet little nose landed on your cheek, paw pushing the phone away from your face.
“Would you look at that you found mama- baby what’s wrong?” Chris came in, catching your tear stained cheeks and red, watery eyes.
“The um… instagram you posted you-“ You were hiccuping, anxiously patting Dodgers coat. Too embarrassed to meet his eyes, firmly focused on the Instagram comments that were now blurry.
“I didn’t post your nudes did I?!” His face full of concern that he had pulled another, much worse, social media blunder.
“No.” You left out a shaky faux laugh
“You left comments on and well some people aren’t very nice.”
“Show me right now.” His jaw went tight and his expression changed to pure disgust and anger.
You handed him the phone, digging your face into Dodgers coat, drying your tears.
Chris’s eyes scanned the comments, jaw tightening as he grounded his teeth.
“That’s it.” He throw the phone next him, making his way up in a frenzy.
“Chris it’s not a big deal I’m just emotional.”
“It is a fucking big deal.” He raised his voice now, running his hands through his hair in frustration. Chris wasn’t an angry person, rarely getting upset but when you were involved; people better run.
It perplexed him everyday how he thinks he landed the most beautiful woman in the world yet people want to pick apart something as stupid as your weight.
Chris wasn’t blind at all, he was engrossed and obsessed with every curve, every roll, every stretch mark, every sag. He loved them all.
He couldn’t get enough of grabbing your belly whenever he could, even in public. His hand without fail always travelled from your waist to your pudge, slowly stroking the skin or the fabric - it relaxed him.
Or at home when he’d forgo your ass and instead just grab a roll and jiggle it in his hands, fuck, in his mind it was a bonus to your ass, more skin he could fondle and touch and enjoy, more ways to get a whole body ripple out of you.
Or in the morning before you’d wake up when he’d slowly trace your stretch marks, adoring the way they looked like tiger stripes he felt like they were a natural piece of art on your body.
The way your thighs would wrap tightly around his head, a built in pillow for him to rest on while he traced your body with his hands, following the natural trail created by your curves.
How every hug felt soft and warm as you pressed your plump body up against him, he would get so frustrated that he couldn’t grab every single part of you all at once and just squeeze but a hug was the closest thing.
He didn’t think pure beauty existed until he saw you for the first time, he remembers the way he jaw fell agape slightly and his eyes widened desperate to touch you, desperate to have you in his bed every night.
You were his now and he wasn’t going to let some bullshit comments take that away from him.
To take the spark and light out of you, to push you down to a place where you felt you were anything but incredible.
You body wasn’t just a wonderland but the home for the soul in which he adored, his kind, intelligent, resilient, witty, outspoken, well read and highly cultured, drop dead gorgeous woman.
The purity of you being so authentically yourself was sacred to him and he was fiercely protective of you for that.
He dreaded the day the comments got too much and he cringed at the thought of you changing any part of the woman he met for some fucking comments. It wouldn’t happen. Not on his watch.
“You can’t just- you can’t fucking say those things about someone! I mean we go back 200 fucking years and there’s your body in fucking oil paintings around castles and here we are now where your accomplishments, your personality, your kindness, your fucking beauty is just completely shitted on.”
“I dealt with it way before I started dating you.”
“Well it ends now.” He said crouching down in front of you as you sat curled into a ball on the couch.
His eyes had softened and he was desperate for you to meet his. Wanting to assure you with everything he had that this meant nothing to him.
“Baby you know I don’t agree with those comments right. Fuck, you remember how much I couldn’t keep my hands off you that night.”
“And every night before.” You snorted
He gave you a soft smile, happy you were back to making jokes “Exactly.”
“It’s my fault I should of turned comments off but we shouldn’t have to do that. I’m going to write something and that should be the end of it.”
“We shouldn’t react that’s what they want.” You said wearily.
“In no world is that going to be said about you and I just sit back and let it happen. Absolutely not. Now come on, let’s get you in the bath.”
You sunk into the steaming water as the smell of lavender and rose filled your nose and muscles you didn’t realise you were tensing finally relaxed. Repeating mantras of self assurance in your head with the distant sound of Chris scurrying around the bedroom and his muffled voice on the phone.
Getting out and into your robe after an hour you made your way into the bedroom, finding an exhausted Chris waiting for you on the bed.
“Come here I wanna show you something.” He tapped the spot next to him, inviting you to snuggle against his chest as he got out his phone.
You rolled your eyes, sighing as you got comfortable.
“Read.” He said sternly, putting his phone into your hand.
You brushed the tears forming in your eyes from happiness. Two things you could always count on with Chris is his ability to make you the happiest person alive and his passion. Combine them and you’re a babbling mess of gratitude and love. Pulling his head down towards you, peppering kisses all over his face and whispering thank you against his lips.
“Don’t thank me come on now.”
“It was very well said.”
“Yeah well we won’t need this for awhile.” He grabbed his phone from you, throwing it down the bed as he fell off the edge, landing with a small thump.
“Come here sexy, I wanna love on my girl.” You giggled as his beard brushed against your neck as he left wet soppy kisses down your body, untieing your robe to get your unfiltered body in all its glory.
Chris’s comments created a storm of support, bringing up a conversation of why a woman’s body is ever a topic of concern and the high expectations of male celebrity partners to look a certain way.
And months down the line he still stood by them. Stating in an interview:
“I don’t think I have ever been more furious than when I read those comments. You know you have this beautiful, intelligent partner and you’re both in this happy little bubble of love and admiration and then these strangers, randoms on the internet just start attacking them for all the things you love about them. It’s like a kick in the gut. I felt so guilty like it was my fault because she didn’t ask to be famous or anything and it’s not easy to give that privacy and anonymity up to follow your heart but she did it anyways and all she was met with was horrible comments. Man, I was so scared that was going to be it for her and I’d never see her again. It just felt like people don’t realise that’s a real person, we are real people and if you wouldn’t say that to someone’s face then why comment it where they can see? She didn’t deserve that at all and I was going to do everything in my power to make sure it never happened again. She means the world to me, I’d do anything to protect her. I’m just lucky I get to wake up to her everyday and she’s this strong, resilient person who can’t be knocked down easily.”
Baby Name List
pairing: Cowboy!Chris x Girlfriend!Reader
summary: Chris finds out about Y/n’s baby name list, and wants to put some of them to good use ASAP (girlboss!reader) (emotional Chris)
Chris Masterlist, Full Masterlist, Library blog: @f10werfaes-cosy-collection
likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated♥️
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“Don’t you jus’ look fuckin’ adorable pumpkin” Chris swooned bringing his two hands to his mouth and letting out a loud whistle, tossing his hard hat, with it skilfully landing on its holder. His hands came to settle on his belt buckle, his boots clanking against the wooden floor as he approached his girlfriend, who was in nothing but one of his red plaid shirts. “Well aren’t you home early honey” She smirked, her lips red with her usual lipstick.
“Cant stay away from my sweet pie from too long, ya know me” He chuckled settling onto the leather couch beside her, his arm settling around her shoulder and landing right atop her breast, with it barely covered by the clean fabric. “How was the ranch today bubby, wasn’t too hard on ya was it?” She giggled looking up at him, kissing up his neck as she felt his hand bounce her tit in his hand and squeezing it lightly.
Chris just shook his head, nuzzling his nose against her cheek, his overgrown beard just rubbing against her skin roughly just how she liked it. “Jus got a new shipment in from North Dakota-“
“DAKOTA- right hold on big man, gotta put that name on the list” She squealed wiggling in her seat, tucking herself closer into her man’s chest, “What list baby? a vacation list? Cause let me tell you what’s in North Dakota-“
“Not a vacation list bubby, look, it’s a baby name list” She smiled clearly proud of herself, tilting the screen to show him the array of names listed on her phone, each section divided into each gender and what ones were her top 10. To her this was normal behaviour, she always wanted to be a mother and she knew damn well that her own Cowboy Chris would be the one to fulfil that.
“A-a baby name list sugar?” He asked shocked, his breath catching in his throat as his arms tugged themselves tighter around the woman in his arms, a sense of warmth and relief erupting in his heart. “Mhm, and nope it’s not up for debate cowboy, cause I know damn well you’d name her daisy or something- Wait Daisy isn’t a bad name actually” She rambled vigorously typing on her phone once again,
“You’re doin this, for our babies? Like together?” He said softly stopping her hands, causing her eyes to furrow and look up at him, “Well course, i’m hardly planning to get impregnated by another man, don’t ya want kids with me?” She snarked turning to look at him, only to laugh when she found him dazed and dreamily looking at her.
Chris’ body shuddered and grew angry at the thought of some other bastard claiming his woman, but that feeling quickly faded away by his new revelation. She wanted babies with him. “Careful honey ya might start droolin” She smacked his face lightly, before leaning in and pressing her red lips against his pink ones, pulling away to see his cheeks flushed and his hands bringing her in for another hot smooch.
“Fuck yeah I want kids with you angel, want kids with you so bad, want the white house and the picket fence n’ all that horseshit. Jus’ didn’t realise ya wanted it with me too” He breathed out, his hand mindlessly still rubbing all over her naked torso, finding itself rubbing over her stomach which he now realised would house their future. “You can be so stupid some times” Y/n laughed kissing up his neck, her hands directing his back to her breast; she always loved him just touching her body at any point, it didn’t matter what he was doing.
In fact it was quite normal to see the usual stoic Cowboy giving his long-term girlfriend foot-rubs, kisses everywhere and hugs every single second, not exaggerating. “But we can’t name her Daisy, we named the new calf that a few days ago, can’t have my babygirl twinnin with a calf” Chris grinned picking up her phone, looking at the names himself, laughing to himself every time he’d see a Disney reference.
“Well if ya would hurry up we’d have probably used about 20 of the names already bub” She pouted snatching her phone back, “That a promise?” He raised his brow looking at her, a smirk on his face as he looked down to see her exposed pussy starting to glisten with her wetness; “I say we start with the names, Myla and Mason” He whispered looking at her eyes which we now wide accompanied by a giddy smile on her smudged red lips. “Give me twins then, cowboy” She taunted tugging on his chin to bring his lips to hers, her hand guiding his to her clenching hole, starting their own rodeo of madness.
“Pumpkin ya really want this with me don’t ya? Already dreamin of bringin the tiny things to the ranch n’ teachin’ them howta ride a horse” He chuckled into her neck, his fingers continuing their assault on her bud as she uncontrollably bucked her hips up to meet his fingers. “W-want it so bad Bub, need it” She sighed out feeling his fingers enter her snug hole, the zipper on his washed out jeans being pulled down as she noticed how much they had strained against the bulge of his shaft.
“Do- Do you want this with me Chris? Tell me now, before we bring a life into this” She said meeting his eyes, her lip between her teeth trying to hold back a moan; as much as she wanted a baby so desperately, she needed to know her baby would receive love from both its momma and daddy.
“I don’t know what else I could want more pumpkin” He smiled kissing the corner of her lips, his body stiffening once she released his cock from his underwear, its red bulb shining against the light. Her thumb ran over his slit before her hands wrapped themselves around his cock, fisting it slowly and passionately; their lips still locked lovingly. “I’m not knockin’ you up on the couch baby, no way in hell, we doin’ this the proper way” Hesitatingly he pulled his lips away from hers, his lips tingling and already aching to be back on hers; in seconds he had picked her up by her thighs, giggles leaving her as she held on by his biceps.
He held her close on the bed, letting her straddle his lap whilst she cuddled into him, their bodies connected as one; his lips attached to her neck leaving behind bites of passion and ecstasy. “G’damn I love you so much baby, I-i’m not gonna last much longer honey” He breathed out against her neck, his hands splayed on her back to keep her against him at all times, their bodies providing each other heat.
“M-me too bubby, m’so close, can feel it right here to here” She whimpered pointing from her heart right to her wet centre, her lips crashing onto his swollen ones, their tongues meeting causing both their chins to become wet with each other’s saliva; a usual occurrence in this household. “I-I’m close, cum with me bubby , please” She gasped out holding onto his shoulders as she bounced faster on his cock, his hips thrusting up to meet hers.
“Don’t worry pumpkin, m’right here, on three alright? 1, 2 ,3-“
———
“If you’re not pregnant by now, then that is a miracle in itself” Chris sighed moving some of her hair to behind her shoulder, her smile sweet and lazy as she just looked up at him as if he was some sort of treat. “I love you bubba, too much even” She whispered tracing a finger down his nose before booping the tip of it, giggling when he bit onto it playfully and wouldn’t let it go.
“You have my whole heart, but I still don’t think it’s enough” He whispered back nuzzling their noses together, his arms still enclosing their bodies together, her pussy clenching around his softened shaft every so often.
———
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Andy barber has a shy busty girlfriend, reader and one day, reader felt horny and visits Andy's office so he could fuck her.andy was busy with work, so reader decided to boob job and blow job him
“Yeah.” He sounded dry and uninterested and you were sure your presence would change that.
Turning the knob, you slid into his office, standing in front of him in your tight navy “office” dress and black pumps. But he didn’t even look up at you until the silence lingered more than it should of and when he saw you his face fell into his hands with a sigh.
You put your hands on your hips, scoffing at his reaction.
Pressing his palms down on the oak table, he rolled out his chair and came around to you.
“Hey baby” his hands reached towards your waist, pulling you into him as he sat on the edge of the desk “it’s not a good time.”
“What do you mean it’s not a good time… look at me!” Your hands pulled away from his strong chest to gesture to your boobs.
He chuckled a little, eyes lingering on prominent cleavage “You look lovely, but I have a 500 page document of evidence I have to get through therefore it’s not a good time.”
You pouted at him running your hands along the lapels of his suit jacket. Biting your lip at the sight of him in a suit, slowly you fell to your knees
“Honey no come on get up.” You ignored his warnings as you slowly fiddled with his belt, he did nothing to stop you but looked at you with want behind his eyes.
“Don’t do this to me baby..” he groaned at you.
“You’re stressed I just wanna help.” You spoke as you undid his zipper, pulling his pants down to his ankles along with his briefs.
He signed, rubbing the wrinkles on his forehead “Go lock the door.”
You grabbed his cock in your hand feeling the weight in your hand, watching it grow thick and hard as you trailed the veins, kitty licking the tip, as you stick your tongue in the indent of his Vick desperate yo taste his salty pre cum
Laying out your tongue you took him into your mouth, letting it slide down your throat as you wrapped your lips firmly around his cock, moving around your hands to your back you slowly unzipped your top pulling down the sleeves and letting your tits fall with a sudden drop from the constraints of the fabric, never letting his cock fall from its place in your mouth.
Andy let’s out a breathy “Jesus Christ” at the sight in front of him, pulling him out of your mouth slowly with a pop so his cock slaps against your chin and bounces with its sheer mass, glistening with your saliva. Spitting on his length you wrapped as much as you could in your hand, rubbing it up and down letting a thick layer of wet marinate on his cock.
You raise your bare chest upwards, catching his cock between your large breasts, pushing them together with your hands, you sandwiched it in tightly.
Rocking back and forth on your knees you let his cock slide up and down your chest. You stuck out your tongue, letting the head graze the tip of your tongue with every thrust.
His hands threaded through your hair, pushing your chin further to your chest and supporting himself in your cleavage as he thrusted up and down, enjoying the sensation of sloppy skin against his cock. The way your tits heave up and down against his cock, you both working in unison to work towards his edge.
Getting insatiable and craving the feeling of his release, he took control slapping your hands away from your breast, taking over with his hands cupping your breasts. Roughly grabbing them in his calloused hands causing you to moan at the feeling of his touch finally on you. You leaned your head back, letting him take over as he used the crevice of your tits to chase his high.
His tip hitting your neck and thumbs grazing your nipples. The curve of his cock thrusting perfectly against the shape of your tits.
“I’m so close baby you feel so good wrapped around me.” You were panting at this point loving the way he used you for his pleasure, letting out his stresses on your body.
“Cum on my tits honey.” You purred at him. As he grasped his hand around his cock, pumping his release onto your now glistening chest.
He lurched forward, grasping your face in his hands desperate to taste you. His way of saying thank you. Gently easing you up onto your feet, still covered in his cum. He grabbed a few tissues from behind him, cleaning you up softly. “That was so good baby, God I needed that.” You chuckled softly at his praise, turning around and moving your hair away for him to zip you up. His pointer grazing the skin of your back and sealing the final zip with a soft kiss on your bare neck and turning you around to meet his face again.
Cupping your cheek and giving you a sloppy, deep kiss.
“I don’t know how I’m gonna work after this fuck.”
“Then don’t?” You toyed with his tie, tightening it back up to his top button.
He leaned backwards, pressing the intercom button.
“Hey Leanne, yeah I’m not feeling the best I’m going home cancel all my meetings.” You bit your lip, smirking at him as his hand rubbed the soft skin between your dress hem and knee.
“Let’s get out of here shall we?”
“Maybe I should come over more often.” You pondered out loud.
“No because then I’d get fired.” He grabbed his jacket off his chair slapping your ass out of the door.
A/N: Another short one, but recent events surrounding Someone's social media "unfollows" of friends and the questions that raised helped to develop this piece. Hope you enjoy!
Disclaimer: Another work of fiction. It’s made up. Seriously, no crystal ball in use or any “insider” knowledge from any “sources”.
I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site, even if you give me credit. DO NOT REPOST MY FICS please! Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback are ALWAYS appreciated.
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Was it hypocrisy?
Was it stupidity?
Was it ignorance?
Was it arrogance?
You couldn’t fathom how this situation had unfolded. You’d met at a friend’s Halloween party over a decade ago, and had kept in touch through DMs and texts, always being wary of the public getting any crumbs of your friendship. It was an easy camaraderie that often involved flirtatious comments, whether he or you were dating others or if you both were single, but you’d never crossed the line between friends and more.
At this moment you were glad you hadn’t. You hadn’t originally believed the rumors. Even the chatter among friends couldn’t confirm the existence of an actual relationship, or if it was yet another booty call or, as was becoming commonplace, a “PR” relationship. Then uncomfortable pictures of a public walk and awkward videos of childish behavior surfaced. You still couldn’t figure out what it was, despite articles saying they’d been together for months, even years according to some, all claims that went unsupported by named sources. You were left to your own thoughts, and having seen him in love and in relationships before, couldn’t help but notice how little the current situation resembled those previous interactions.
But you wanted to believe he’d found his “one”, even if it wasn’t you and you had to live with the specter of lost opportunities. Your friend’s happiness was important to you, and so you wished for his sake it was real. That maybe he hadn’t confided in you or those who’d been his friends even longer to keep it private, to protect it, to give him and her time to develop something lasting.
The age difference bothered some in your group, and you understood the feeling. He even knew what you’d gone through - your father’s second wife was closer to your age than his, and that difference, while not obvious at first, resulted in his second divorce. You couldn’t help but remember your self-absorbed stepmother’s words when you’d confronted her as she left their house for the last time, leaving behind your heartbroken father: “I married a man who was supposed to take me places and make me the center of his world and take care of me, not expect me to be his housekeeper and cook while I watch him grow old.”
Your attention was drawn down to your phone screen as it vibrated again with yet another text message coming in from someone in your friend group. You’d been part of this group chat for years, but now were the focus of it for reasons beyond your control. The screenshots of comments her friends had made might have triggered many in your group, but they were far more personal to you. You felt as though you were being bombarded with hate about your religion, your ancestry, and even your stature, and while you always wanted to give people the benefit of the doubt, the revelations without any word of defense from her or claims about not agreeing with such comments or hatred or lines of thought were being interpreted as her endorsement.
That isn’t what bothered you. She was no one of importance to you yet, and at this point you had no interest in associating with her. What did bother you was his silence. You knew he’d seen the texts as well - he was, after all, part of this group chat. And while he’d publicly released photos of them together and not made any statements to contradict the reports of their relationships, which the public took as him “claiming” her as someone of seriousness to him, he also hadn’t made any public statements to refute her and her friends’ online behavior, leaving many to associate him with those viewpoints by default.
While you understood his need to have his long-time friends treat him no different after all this time, for you this situation was far more than whether he was or wasn’t in a relationship. It was personal on a very basic level, and you had been wrestling with the thought that you’d need to distance yourself from this group of friends, many of whom had become family to you, knowing they’d been friends longer with him than you and expecting at least a few of them to protect him during all this hoopla.
Some obviously did, at least in public, befriending the newcomers, liking and commenting on their posts, and so on. Some stayed silent but were still caught up in the circus when he unfriended them on his social media accounts, something quickly picked up on by fans. Others who’d never followed him were able to stay in the background, and still others like you had always been able to maintain their anonymity by keeping their social media accounts set to private, never having the need to be followed by strangers.
Regardless of their social media interactions, you were pleasantly surprised by those who’d directly asked him in the group chat what he was thinking, advising him as to how it would impact the perception of those who didn’t know him. A few even questioned if the group as a collective was condemning or condoning his silence, noting how they individually were feeling targeted by her group’s comments and openly questioning if others felt the same way. Those same few had reached out, one or two privately to check in on your mental well-being and be one another’s support system, the other few in the group chat asking if you were okay.
He never responded in the chat to any of the back-and-forths. He didn’t answer any of the questions directed at him. You knew from those few who’d reached out to you that he didn’t check in with them either, leaving them feeling disgruntled, as though they weren’t as worthy as others of his concern or time.
You didn’t blame them, finding yourself in a similar position. He hadn’t been in touch with you. Not a phone call. Not a voicemail. Not a text or a DM. Not even a response to others pointedly asking in your friends’ group chat. Nothing but silence.
In light of present circumstances, his lack of contact brought to mind a quote from the Greek philosopher Plato: “Your silence gives consent.” It was used often by a favorite teacher during lessons about World War II and how certain groups came to power to commit horrific atrocities, but you’d learned through the years it could apply to many situations, including the one you were experiencing now.
Your phone vibrated with another text. It was an invitation to a gathering at one of the friends’ homes, sent to everyone in the group chat. For a moment you had to think. Was it a birthday party for one of the groups’ offspring? One of the couples’ anniversaries? Celebrating someone’s new job? Maybe it was to watch the playoff games together while planning for the annual Super Bowl gathering in a few weeks.
No matter the reason, you hesitated to respond. You knew facing some of the group would be an emotional minefield given their recent choices, yet part of you craved the comfort of time with good friends.
While you struggled to find the appropriate words, the first response popped up. It simply asked one question.
“Are we going to discuss the elephant in the room?”
The answer from the host who’d sent the invitation surprised you.
“Abso-f-ing-lutely! Time to clear the air before the Super Bowl.”
Your question as to the nature of the invitation was answered. It was none of the above. You still hadn’t responded, waiting for others to.
“Evans, spoke to your mom. She said you’re coming home for a few days. Since you’re riding the elephant, you in?”
You laughed out loud. The latest text was from one of the few who’d reached out to you, who’d shared their personal agita with much of the situation, and their concern over his lack of response. As your father would’ve said, there were no flies on that friend.
You waited. Other responses appeared on your screen. Some from the same ones to have befriended the newcomers seem to take offense at the comments directed at him. Some just sent smiley faces and confirmed they’d be there, and a few sent GIF responses, the best of which was the scene from “The Devil Wears Prada” where Stanley Tucci’s character warns everyone to “gird their loins”.
The response you were waiting for still hadn’t appeared.
Instead, you had another message pop up on your screen. From him. Not as part of the group chat. You were the sole recipient.
You froze, as if he could see you through the phone’s camera.
“Y/N? Hey, haven’t talked in a while. Sorry I haven’t been in contact - been straight out with filming and stuff. Are you going this weekend? I really want to talk to you before everyone gets together.”
The underwhelming tone of the text struck a nerve. That “stuff” didn’t keep him from ensuring pictures made their way onto social media or contacting other friends who had no qualms about sharing that he’d reached out to them. That “stuff” didn’t seem to stop him from liking and commenting on others’ posts or sharing the ones he had. That “stuff” did however seem to keep him too busy to ask about your life, to check in with you about how you might be feeling, to even indicate a like or leave a comment on a picture on your social media posts. In essence, that “stuff” illuminated the reality your relationship was more one-sided than perhaps you’d wanted to admit.
You answered quickly before mulling your words over.
“What do you want to talk about?”
No niceties, no questions about his latest project or Dodger or his family or his love life or even if he was going to be there now that his friends knew he was in the area. Your curt wording was out of sorts for you, and you hoped he would sense something was off-kilter.
“Honestly, I’m hoping to see a friendly face there. Sounds like some in the group are a little pissed off at me, and I’m not sure why. Hoping you can help me get them to understand a few things. And I miss you.”
You would have been less shocked if he’d poured ice water over you, and the low self-esteem you grappled with for years started to make itself known. You started reading into the spaces between his words. He didn’t actually want to spend time with you. He was looking for someone to hide behind when called out by your friend group. Someone who checked the boxes, because you did, and if you defended him, it would go a long way into smoothing things over with people he’d been closer to for longer than you’d been around.
The worst part? He knew your history. You’d discussed it over the years - your social anxiety making the process of establishing new friendships almost painful, your self-esteem being something you’d grappled with for years, and your past history of finding yourself in friendships with people whose actions and words over time not only revealed they were far less invested in the friendship than you, but that you “checked a box” to help their social standing.
You could feel your heart breaking over the thought that he was just like those others. That he had only befriended you, flirted with you, had interacted with you, because your friendship made him look better to others instead of wanting to be in your life and have you in his in some capacity that was more than superficial.
“Y/N? So are you going?”
You couldn’t find the words. You didn’t respond to his message. Instead you opened a new text message and send a quick response to the host. “I’ll be there. I think we all deserve some answers… and to know where we all stand.” You got a thumbs up emoji as a response.
Another text message, again from him.
“Hey, I know you read my message. I can see it. I also know you just texted that you’re going. I want to just talk to you before the get-together. Please. Talk to me. Please.”
You started typing.
“I’ll see you there, Chris. No need to talk before.” And to drive your point home, you added a picture of Plato and the quote to your response.
You saw the three dots appear, then disappear. Before they could reappear, you shut your phone off, and let your silence speak for you.
Do you think you could write about short sized! Reader working for Bruce banner as a lab assistant and Steve has a total crush on her.
You sat comfortably at your desk, analysing recent data on your computer screen. To an everyday person what would look like a jumbled mix of numbers and symbols to you made perfect sense.
“Bruceee.”
“Ah-huh.” He responded, eye deep into a telescope.
“The optimal temperature for nuclear reaction is…”
“100 million Kelvin… depends.”
“Figured.” You grumbled, nibbling on the end of a pen.
He rose from his stool, moving towards your desk and minimising the screen.
“This might sound hypocritical coming from me, but you need to get a social life.”
You re-opened the screen, eyes zoning in on him “This is social.” Gesturing between you both.
“No this is work.” He minimised the screen again.
“It’s a hobby.” You re-opened it,
“That you get paid to do.” He minimised the screen once more.
Before you could continue your game of cat and mouse, a knock at the door caused both your heads to rise.
“Sorry to interrupt I just came to drop off these documents for Y/N.”
Your eyes darted up to the large frame leaning against the door, his blue eyes never leaving yours as he offered a soft smile, holding a thick manilla folder in his hands like it was nothing.
“Oh yeah, okay, I was just about to go.” Bruce rose, walking past Steve.
Bruce raised his pointer finger at Steve, leaning in close and whispering while you were distracted by the screen in front of you “I…MIT won’t stop calling desperate for her to join so don’t… you know because I will go Hulk on your ass.”
Steve gave him a respectful nod “I won’t.”
“Good.” With a slap on the shoulder Bruce made his way out.
Steve stalked towards you, placing the folder on your desk with a thud.
You skim through the contents only to find blank pages.
“These are all blank?”
“Yes, they are.”
“What… why would you… what?”
Steve’s hand rubbed the back of his head “I just wanted an excuse to come see you.” He smiled at you sheepishly.
You sighed, rising from your desk making your way to the chemical cupboard with Steve close on your tail.
“I’m in the middle of making universe altering research breakthroughs Steven.” You thumbed through the walls of vials and chemicals.
Steven. Only you called him Steven. Not Rogers. Not Captain. Steven. And while he’d choke out anyone else who called him that besides his mother, he loved hearing his name fall from your lips.
“Which is why I think you deserved a break.”
“Why is everyone so obsessed with me talking breaks around here?”
“Because you work the hardest.” You momentarily paused, turning your head over your shoulder, catching the sincerity on his face.
“I’m not a superhero.” You shook your head.
“You are, in a way…” He moved forward coming behind you as you reached upwards, pushing your weight onto your tippy toes to reach the container on the top shelf, your fingertips barely brushing it. Even in heeled boots you couldn’t even reach.
With a swift motion, he placed his hand on your hip to pull you back slightly, raising his toned arm and grabbing the container effortlessly and handing it to you.
“I can’t even reach the top shelf.” Blush rose to your cheek at the feeling of his body so close to you.
“Yes, but even superhero need help sometimes and more importantly… lives.”
“I have a life!” You moved out of his reach going back towards your desk.
“When was the last time you had a beer with us? Or didn’t go into the lab for a day? Or went on a date?” He spat out.
You paused, turning on your heels, eyeing him.
“What do you want?” You said bluntly, crossing your arms over your full chest.
You were annoyed and he could tell. But he was absolutely obsessed with the way you looked in this moment, eyes piercing right into his soul through your glasses, your hair in a claw clip with strands sticking out and falling over your face. The tapping on your boot against the linoleum floor and the way your arms crossed pushed your chest together revealing a small sight of cleavage under your sweater.
He shouldn’t have found it as sexy as he did.
“I’d like you to take a break…”
You went to interject him and give him a 1000 reasons why you wouldn’t take a break until he finished…
“So, I can take you on a date.”
Your mouth fell agape but you were quick to recover with a sarcastic chuckle.
“Do you want me to warm up the CAT scan? Seems your brain has turned to mush from being in the ice so long.”
“Y/N please.”
“Steven, I don’t date.”
“Why not?”
“Because it’s not scientific and it’s not logical, it’s unexplainable nonsense that drives women to insanity.”
He crooked an eyebrow up at you. “I don’t think you could get more insane than you already are if that helps.”
You rubbed your temples turning on your heels to go back to your desk until you felt a strong hang grab your wrist and pull you back into a hard chest.
“Y/N, I see what you do day in day out for this team, and it doesn’t go unnoticed. But I also see how when you’re focused your eyebrows knot together, how I know which pencils are yours because of the bite marks on ends, how at the end of every day you let your hair fall out and you shake it with your hands, how the sweat drips down your chest and soaks your sports bras in the gym, how when you make a sly comment everyone laughs because you’re funny without realising and I can’t stop looking at you and I won’t but I desperately want to see what’s in your mind behind formulas and data because I know there’s more to you than that so if you would give me the pleasure I really REALLY want to be the social life you so desperately need. I see you, more than you know. And while it may not be mathematical, it makes perfectly calculated sense to me.”
You sucked in your lips, emotions swelling inside of you. His head bowed towards you, foreheads touching.
“Please.”
You nodded unable to form words as his arms tightened around your waist, pulling you in as his lips lightly brushed yours, forcing you to relax in his grip and reciprocate the tender kiss.
“I’ll see you at 7pm - don’t be late.” He gave you final kiss on your forehead, walking out with a beaming smile.
Leaving you in shock as you finally let out the breath you’ve been holding in and warmth spread throughout your body.
THE BIG BOY: STUDY BREAK IS THE DEATH OF ME. I LOVED IT.
https://pin.it/3QtHWRQ
^also from that pic, could u consider writing something with ari levinson smoking? i dont really know what, but him smoking has me on my knees as always😽
thank you bestie !! and sure, I've been thinking about stoner!ari lately 🫣 so here's shotgunning with beefy frat!Ari:
He's so pretty, too pretty for your own good. That's why you can barely concentrate on your little crochet project—you're too busy staring at him playing a video game. His long hair all fluffy and soft, beard freshly trimmed and a joint between his lips.
He takes a slow puff, sparing you a glance "You good? You seem a little out of it."
"I'm good, really good..." You say slowly, eyes falling to his thick thighs, his shorts rolled up and exposing the hairy flesh. "Are you good?"
He grins, "yeah. Do you wanna shotgun again?" He isn't even finished asking before you're clambering into his lap, straddling his thighs with your arms around his shoulders. "I'll take that as a yes."
"A big yes." You subtly rock your hips in excitement, "you know, you should record erotic audios. You have the voice for it."
He laughs and takes a slow inhale, setting the joint in the ashtray and pulling you close. Your heart swells when your lips meet, he feels so good—he always feels so good, and you almost forget to open your mouth. The smoke flows from him to you and down to your lungs burning. You lean away to cough, your eyes watering as he hands you a glass of water.
"Why don't we stop for now, yeah?" He asks, rubbing your back, "take a little break and get something to eat?"
"No! Can we just finish this one first?" You beg, giving him the most adorable pout. "Pretty please, daddy? I'll be super good, I promise."
His blue eyes examine you carefully, then he shakes his head, "Fine. Just this one and then we're done for the day. I don't want you to do too much until you're more used to it."
Giddy, you kiss all over his face. His bearded cheeks tickling your lips as you pepper your sweet, sweet love wherever you can reach. "Yay! I love you so much!"
He didn't smoke often, but he was far more experienced than you. He takes the chance to recline on the couch and tilt his head, groaning lowly when your lips trail to his neck. "I'm such a bad influence on you, cub." His fingers dig into your hips, caught between moving you over his bulge or pushing you away. "Since when did you become a troublemaker?"
You were in the living room of the frat house, anyone could walk in and see you cute, dumb and high.
"Whenever you came around." You nip at his jaw, dragging your tongue down the tense veins, "just lookin' at you gets me so wet... feel." You bring his hand between your thighs and firmly against your wet panties, "See? I'm so sticky, daddy... it's so uncomfy, can you help me, please?"
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Free space - asker can come up with any writing or fic-related question they want!
Please post something. I crave your writhing
This is the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me 🥹
Lying down on the floor at work rn but fics coming soon 😘
Love your patience 💕☘️
I didn't know your inbox is not full. I have manyyy ideas for fic. Can i send them? Do you write headcanon?
Would love to get into headcanons cause it’s so easy for me to get into and do on my phone so yes more of those people!!!
hello there :) i was wondering are you still accepting request?
I am! It’s been crazy that I haven’t got anyone new ones. My inbox is almost empty so then I’ll start working on my series but yes I am still taking requests and always checking my inbox!! 💕☘️
Hey!! So I just watched the Grey Man yesterday and I had an idea… could you write a Lloyd Hansen x daughter reader story?? Like he is the trained hit man but he is also raising a toddler at the same time but people don’t know and he has to take her to the office and his co workers are shocked at how soft and gentle he can be. 100% your choice
hi! I'm sorry this took so long, I hope you like it!
summary - it's lloyd's turn to look after your kid.
warning - cuteness.
the gif I use isn't mine.
Lloyd ignored the looks he got when he walked into his office with his daughter on his hip. He walked over to his chair. Placing down the things his daughter needs and loves before he takes a seat, places her on his lap and smiles at her.
“Oh, munchkin. Don’t you look adorable! Why don’t we take a picture and send mummy a photo of your outfit? Huh?” He grins, booping her nose, his smile getting wider when she giggles. Lloyd takes his phone out, putting his face next to his daughters as he faces the camera toward them. His fingers tickle her chubby tummy causing her to let out giggles. “Say cheese, munchkin!” He snaps the photo and is in awe at how adorable she is.
“Just going to send this to mumma. Do you think she’ll like the bear outfit I picked for you?” He sends the photo, pressing a big kiss to her chubby cheeks. “Course she will. You look adorable!”
She makes grabby hands at him, squishing his cheeks as she babbles. “Dada! Dada! Funny!” She giggles as she looks at his moustache.
Lloyd raises his eyebrow, tickling her tummy. “You little! You think daddy's moustache is funny, huh?” He places kisses on her face before looking down at her lovingly. “I love you, munchkin. Remember that mumma and I will do whatever it takes to give you the world.”
thank you for reading!
feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.
Breakfast shenanigans..
Chris Evans x Wife! reader
Summary: Chris and you have a bit of ‘fun’ talk while making breakfast.
Warnings: Sensual…
Note: English is not my first language
~~~
Chris moved his hand towards his left expecting in getting contact with a bare back but his hands met with the cold sheets which made him groan slightly and open his eyes. He rubbed his eyes and stayed in the bed for a few seconds before getting up and searching for his t-shirt which was unsuccessful as he didn’t find it in his room.
He chuckled when he realised that it was his dear wife who must’ve wore it. Chris went out of the bedroom and downstairs where he could hear soft music playing.
He peeked from behind the wall and saw his love making breakfast while swinging side to side through the rhythm.
Chris wrapped his muscular arms around your waist and pulled you back so that your back met with his stoned chest. You turned around startled but soon got calm when you saw your husband with a goofy smile plastered on his face.
‘Good morning wifey dearest’ your husband said with coy, kissing your neck softly. ‘Good morning hubby dearest’ you greeted him back with a bright smile.
He leaned down and kissed your soft lips, sucking it at some point. You pulled away, resuming making breakfast.
‘It can wait’ Chris mumbled and pulled you towards him, ‘why don’t you focus on your husband right now?’ Chris said, sensually, ‘I’m still sore Chris, you fucked me in such an animalistic speed last night’ you poured, ‘you enjoyed it’ Chris stated, ‘yes I did’ you giggled kissing his neck and sucking his soft spot, making him moan lightly.
‘I’m gonna get a shower’ Chris said giving your breast a jiggled with a light squeeze. He started going towards the bedroom not before giving you a slap on your cheek which made you squeal.
‘You’re invited, Mrs Evans’ he said now going backwards.
You quickly turned off the stove and ran towards your husband who picked you up with ease. You wrapped you legs around him and held his face in your hands,kissing his soft lips.
‘Can’t wait to shower with you Mr Evans’ you smirked.
~~~
Hey!!
Guys, I don’t bite, message me, let’s be friends!
Smut
Chris still have His costum from Captain america. What does that mean? Rollplay with chris.
You mulled through your large walk in for a Halloween costume, stray pieces you could put together to make an encrypted costume, all black and slutty you could do Charlie’s Angels… but there’s only 1 of you. You huffed as you swiped from hanger to hanger until…
“CHRISSSSSS!” You hollered
“Yeah honey.” He walked into the room stopping to a halt when he spotted you, devious look on your face as you held the costume in front of you.
“Hi Captain.” You purred
“Put it back.” He said sternly
“Why should I… look at this… it’s beautiful and omg mint condition.” You lifted one of the sleeves feeling the fabric.
“Because it’s the past.” He came towards you reaching for the costume but you turned your body away.
“Then why is it here?”
“Because one day I might hand it down to our son or if we go broke I can sell it.”
“I feel like I missed out on so much with this costume… can you wear it for me? Just once?”
He sighed, studying it with his eyes “It won’t fit anymore.” Chris tapped on the small sight of pudge on his stomach.
“Oh nonsense just try… please.”
“Fine.”
You squealed “ok let me go get a shield!”
You came back in the room with the glorified frisbee in your hand, but Chris didn’t realise your presence too busy in the mirror admiring himself.
“You need this.” You came up behind him, handing him the hard plastic prop.
“Thanks Peggy.” He smirked at you
“You’re welcome Captain… now turn around and let me look.”
You bit your lip as you ran your hands along the stretch cotton, the color hadn’t faded a day from not seeing the sun in 10 years.
“It’s tight on me.” Chris gritted his teeth
“Where?”
“The crotch.”
“Is that the suits problem or your problem?”
He looked down at you a sarcastic smile, as you ran your fingers slowly along the the silver star emblem and the intricate red and white panels.
“So how does it get on?”
“Like a onesie.” He grinned
“Ooooh.” You nodded, never fully understanding the layout of the suit.
“Oh it’s got a zipper.” Your eyes widened at the discovery.
“Yeah what if I needed to piss?”
“And the other thing…”
“You think I was spending my days fucking on set?”
“If I was around you would of.”
“That’s true baby.” He pulled you closer by your waist.
“So what do you think of Captain America.” He purred in your ear
“I think he’s gonna be in a lot of trouble.” Your hands on his bearded cheeks as he pulled you closer by your waist so you could feel the straining fabric against you.
“Hmmm why’s that?” His words mumbled by the kisses he was leaving on your exposed neck.
“Because he’s too busy fucking me to save the world.” You bit his ear lope eliciting a feral groan from Chris.
He threw the shield to the side, letting it land with a thud as he hoisted you up, wrapping your legs around his waist as he placed you on the centre counter of your walk in.
“Well that’s your fault isn’t Ms Carter?” His eyes honed in on you, noticing the delight as he’s finally catched on to the dirty game of role play you’re playing.
“You know I always wondered…”
“Hmmm.” His tongue still exploring the skin exposed on your robe as you toyed with the hair on the nape of his neck.
“Whether the serum applied to your whole body…”
His hands moved to loosen the tie around your waist, letting your body be fully exposed beneath him.
“You wanna find out?” He quipped as his mouth made its way down your stomach.
“Please.”
“Please what?”
“Please… Captain.”
Chris growled as his grabbed the back of your knees, pulling you to the edge of the counter and placing them on his shoulders.
“Tsk tsk no panties… not very professional.”
“They got too messy thinking of you.”
You pushed his head closer to your core as you finally felt the sweet feeling of his warm tongue flat on your sex. Chris wasted no time, creating a wet sloppy mess of your pussy as his tongue travelled up and down your weeping core and sensitive clit.
“Agh Chris more.” You dug your heels into his back but it was no restraint for the brooding man. Pulling out to stand over your flushed body.
“Call me that again and I’ll stop.” You swallowed weakly seeing a side of your man you’d never seen before.
“Yes Captain.”
“Good girl.” His hands went to the zipper pulling it down, letting his hard cock finally free from the tight fabric and pumping it slightly in his hand.
His pushed it slightly towards your centre, teasing it back and forth on your slit, letting your juices soak his head, pushing the tip in slightly but not even close to enough for any real pleasure.
You withered and moaned, making grabby motions towards his face.
“Stop moving or you’ll get nun’” His Boston accent slipping through.
Slowly and achingly he inserted himself into your begging core, anchoring himself with your fleshy thighs. With ever move in, he pull you closer aiming to get as deep as he can.
Finally you felt the cool zipper against your clit as you wrapped your feet together behind his back, desperate for him to lean over you and pound you viciously.
“You feel that honey?” You nodded, mind clouded by the feeling of his length pulsating inside of you.
Inching in and out, you savoured the feeling of Captain America fucking your sweet hole, keeping a steady pace. You mewled wanting to grab on his large biceps, he grabbed your hands pushing them down, lacing your fingers in his as he pinned them down.
“No touching the suit baby.” He tsked as he loomed over you. “You’re just gonna lie down and let Captain take care of you.”
His thrusts increased, the friction of he material rubbing against your sensitive clit only enhanced the novelty, his beard brushing your skin as he kissed you deeply, swallowing your moans.
You grabbed his hair, pulling him deeper, close to your release you pulled out the kissing panting,
“I’m gonna cum.” With that he pulled out to your shock.
Your mouth fell agape as he avoided your eyes “what’s wrong?” You grabbed his chin, pulling his face to look at you desperate for him to return inside of you.
“Mint condition you can’t cum on the suit honey.”
“You can’t be serious?”
“Oh I’m very serious.” He pecked your forehead.
“Go lie in bed, Captain looks better naked anyways.” He chuckled.
You huffed as he held your hand while you slipped off the centre counter.
Was better than nothing you thought.
thick frat!ari 😌 The Bull aka rugby legend 😌 beefy boyfriend blanket 😌 plushie bully 😌 sweetest daddy to ever daddy
Mama Lisa 👀// What did she do?
the reader and chris meet for the first time at a dinner with shared joy. the reader notices chris directly and would like to get to know her better. the reader just thinks he is from the market since she heard the news that he is dating alba. only his family and friends know that alba and chris only have a personal relationship. chris tries to explain that to her
Fuck fuck fuck. You were late, sooo beyond late for the Charity Gala. Security were mulling outside and in an attempt to save face and avoid having them open the large and very loud doors for your entrance you ripped off your heels clutching them in your hand with your bag as you raced up the stairs.
“You’re late…” Tommy, the security guard who got rostered on all the events in your city was at the door, eyes honed in on you with a devilish smirk. Tommy had gotten you out of many difficult situation and in return you’d sneak him beer to drink out the back.
“No shit Tommy.”
The security guard laughed “Don’t worry no one’s taking your spot, get in there.”
“You’re the best.” Giving him a quick hug
Muffled conversation filled the room as you made your way to your seat in between your work bestie, Nigel and… who the fuck was that?
“Always making an entrance.” Nigel leaned over to the mysterious stranger with dark hair who you couldn’t see the face of but you swooned at his booming laugh.
“I’m here! I’m here! Don’t fret!” You slid into your seat with a huff causing your bangs to raise slightly from the sudden gust.
“Omg when did you stop wearing shoes that’s not chic.” Nigel faux gasped. Realising you were still clutching them you quickly tried to manoeuvre your foot back into the all too expensive, uncomfortable heel under the table.
“I ran here.” You huffed at Nigel.
“That’s great sweetie good for you! Smashing those New Year’s resolutions! Now turn around and meet Chris.”
You were finally able to look up at the handsome celebrity, who looked thoroughly amused by your grand entrance and clunky movements.
The event was held annually to raise money for the arts and your work was a key sponsor but occasional celebrity appearances were nothing to make your jaw drop like this.
“Be nice…” Nigel whispered swiftly in your ear before he pranced off to socialise.
“I’ve heard lots about you.” He held out his hand for you to shake
“Good stuff I hope.” The corners of you mouth raised slightly as you returned the gesture. You never saw Chris Evans on the guest list and Nigel always handled the table seating, it was starting to became incredibly clear that the man who had listened to you rant on and on about your relationship status for years had pulled off the mother of all blind dates. That sneaky, conniving little bit-
“Nigel was telling me about how much you do for the artists you work with and quote how ‘You’re their God’…” You were pulled out of your train of thought by Chris smirking at the last line.
You finally were able to look at his face properly, the small signs of ageing present in the specks of grey in his beard and the wrinkle on his forehead. He was a borderline silver fox, still in his prime with obvious experience present in his face and demeanour.
But you weren’t going to let yourself swoon so easily. Memories flooded in of your recent girls night, as you all huddled around Instagram reading about his newest girlfriend who was conveniently not present.
She was young which was fine but your FBI level investigator friends were intricately telling you about her background like she was some girl from college. Her horrid behaviour towards waitstaff, her lack of work ethic and how little she cared about her projects, the tweets of her shaming anyone who wasn’t skinny and white - those ones hit hard. You were never the beauty type but that didn’t stop you from gaining the attention from men. But the idea of another woman shaming another for their looks made your skin crawl. She was the antithesis of everything you ever believed in; good manners, kindness and hard work. You believed people were a reflection of those who they surrounded themselves with. And as the memory recalled in your head you couldn’t help but feel icky at the man who while nice and polite probably felt little of you.
You felt to get through the night you’d definitely need a little help.
“Well not really, I just listen. People like when you hear them out. I feel like today that kind of personal aspect is lost in interactions.”
Great answer. Professional. Clear. Nailed it.
“Well I think they’re lucky to have someone like you. It’s great to see someone give people a platform to share their art.”
Your eyes diverted from his intense gaze as he spoke sincerely at you to one of your favourite people walking past with a large bottle of wine, the condensation on the sides told you it was white. Your favourite.
“Yeah it’s great, sorry just a second… pssst Geraldine!”
The elderly woman looked at you with a beaming smile on her face, immediately shuffling over to you.
“Hey! how are you girl?” You took her outstretched hand, squeezing it with happiness.
“Good! So happy to see you here - I’ll get you the good stuff this stuff… it’s no good!” She waved her finger at you, sticking her tongue a little.
“Thanks Gerry.” You smiled at her, appreciative of her and the gifts she brings. She was your version of God.
“You’re welcome darling!”
“You know the waitstaff by name?” His eyebrow raised and you prepared yourself for a snarky comment.
“They’re human too aren’t they?”
“No I agree I just have met very few people at stuff like this who aren’t so self absorbed with themselves to notice the people who are doing things for them.” You heart pinged a little at that comment, you started to soften in his presence. Catching yourself, you readjusted your posture, pulling your shoulders back.
“I dont believe you should treat people on their perceived importance, besides kindness pays and now we are all gonna be drinking the good stuff.” You raised your empty glass up, ready to receive the tasty confidence from a bottle.
“I’ll drink to that.” He raised his tumblr of dark liquor, clinking it to your now full glass, making eye contact as you both sipped.
You had nothing to lose and decided to have fun with this, already planning how you are going to recount this epic story of ego takedown to the girls.
“So Evans right?”
“Yes ma’am.”
“Huh didn’t recognise you without your bucket hat.”
Chris scoffs “So you saw that huh?”
“Against my will but yes.”
“Well it was complicated.”
“Yeah I imagine hanging around models and c list celebrities all day is “complicated”.”
“I’m hanging around you aren’t I.”
“I’m not a model and I’m not complicated.”
“That surprises me.”
“You don’t know me near enough to be surprised.” You shake your head.
“No but I would like to.”
“Now THAT surprises me.”
“Seems you don’t like me very much based on what you’ve read.”
“I never I said I didn’t like you I just believe you are the company you keep and I don’t like your company.”
“That’s still an assumption.”
“Well screenshots live forever don’t they?” You gave him a sarcastic grin.
“You think I would know about those and still continue to hang around someone?”
“How could you not know, do you not know how to use Twitter?”
“During all your research I thought you would of realised I’m not the best with social media.” He laughed awkwardly.
“I didn’t research you, as I said ‘against my will’”
“Well we are both here now so ask away.” He gestured his drink outwards.
You bit your lip trying to decipher the bullshit from reality but every word he spoke sounded so earnest.
“Why do you date the same skinny actress just in different fonts every time?”
“Who said I dated all of them?”
“Fair enough.”
“Not every woman I’m pictured with I’m necessarily dating.”
“Why would you chose to hang around someone who is so…”
“Horrible?” He interjects
“I was going to say repulsive.”
“I don’t always have a choice.”
“That’s ridiculous you’re in your 30s.”
“40s… thank you but it’s the way of the game.”
“So you’re a coward?”
His jaw tightened at the suggestion and his playful gaze fell from his face.
“No I just haven’t found the right one.”
“Maybe because you’re going for the wrong ones.”
“Do you know what this industry is like? I’m constantly getting pushed into being around people that I don’t particularly like.”
You gestured around you with obviousness apparent on your face.
“Your job is different.”
“So now you’re saying my life is easy?”
“No I’m saying you don’t have 50 cameras in your face at once and people usually aren’t using you for what you have.”
You pursed your lips realising you’ve hit a nerve,
“You really didn’t know did you?”
“Nope. If I did I wouldn’t of taken it as far as it got. People are damn good at hiding their true-selves when it’s convenient but something tells me, you would never understand that.”
“Why wouldn’t I?”
“Well for starters, you came in late, expensive heels in hand - tells me you have good taste but are practical when need be.”
You nodded at the analyse.
“You’re nice to everyone you meet, I think about 50 people have walked past beaming at you which is a nice change to have the attention off me for once.”
“I’m just good at my job.”
“I don’t doubt it but you give it humility. Nigel told me all about what you do and he didn’t understate it.”
You blushed at your accolades particularly coming from the handsome actor.
“I think you can’t help but be anything but yourself and why would you when you’re so great? It’s endearing and a little bit intimidating.” He chuckled out that last line.
“So I’m asking, can we start over?” He leans in a little closer, placing his hand on your knee like it was nothing out of the ordinary.
“Yes.” You place your hand on his.
“But first… what if your type?” You quizzed.
“I’m looking at her.” He smirked at you.
After many speakers, more glasses of wine and an unspoken plate swap with Chris who graciously gave you his pasta after you starting drooling over it, the night was starting to become less formal and performers started to play covers of songs you couldn’t help but bop and sway to.
“Do you dance?” Chris asked casually
“Well yes but-.”
“Great!” He interjected, pushing out his chair and holding out his hand.
“Dance with me.”
“I don’t think that’s a good look, there’s photographers around and I know-“
“Omg woman just shut up and go dance with him!” Nigel nudged you out of your seat with Chris quick to steady you.
“You’re an asshole.” You faux sneered at him.
“And you’ll thank me Monday.” He gave you a smug smile.
Chris walked you both to the makeshift dance floor. Wrapping his arm around your waist as you swayed softly.
“So what do you think?” He quipped
“The Gala is going great, no major issues everyone looks like they’re having a good time.” You looked around nervously at a few curious eyes on you two.
“About me I meant.”
“Oh! Well… I’m 80% convinced.”
“Convinced of what?”
“That you’re not an ass.”
“That’s promising.”
“Well I’m not easy to sway.”
“Didn’t think you would be.” He purred at you.
You bodies were moving in a slow sway, Chris taking the lead as you melted into his arm as he moved you around the floor.
“Do you know what you’re doing?”
“Dancing?”
“No being seen with me.”
“What’s so wrong with it?”
“People still think you’re dating her.”
“And? Now they won’t and for good reason.”
“And I was the perfect choice?”
“You weren’t a factor in the plan but if you must know a news report from a “close friend” is due to come out in…” He checks his watch behind your shoulder.
“12 hours that her and I called it quits.”
“So how do I come into it?”
“You’re just the beautiful woman I met at a charity ball days after a break up that turned out to be my future wife.” He was grinning now.
“You’re ridiculous you know that?”
“Maybe, but I still want to see you again.”
“80% Evans.”
“Well do you think it’ll be at 90% by next Wednesday?”
“Possibly why?”
“Cause that’s when I’m taking you out… lean back.”
He dramatically dips your body down near the floor never letting an inch of hair even come close to the ground, pulling you back up slowly so your bodies are closer than ever.
You were slightly panting now as he eyes raked your face for a sign of agreement.
“You’re a little too good at this aren’t you?”
“I use to do Tap.”
“No with swooning women.”
“Well if it helps you’re harder to crack than most.”
“Keep it that way.”
He spins you out, only for you to spin back in, your back towards his chest as his arms wrap around your stomach securely. His nose dragging along your cheek.
“So Wednesday?”
“It’s a date.” You move around, hands now landing on his strong chest, his arms clutching your waist protectively, scared if he loosens his grip you’ll somehow disappear into thin air.
“Would you mind being the front page of a gossip magazine?”
You looked at him confused “Yes why?”
“Because I really want to kiss you but there’s a guy with a camera just over your left shoulder.”
“Can he see my face?”
“No.”
“Is he filming?”
“Photographer so don’t think so.”
“Could you make him delete it?”
“Definitely.” He grinned.
With that you leaned up a little closer, putting your weight on your toes and placing a soft kiss on his warm plump lips, seeing a sudden flash of white light through closed eyelids you pulled out a little flushed, biting your lip as brush rose to your cheeks.
“Make him send that to me before he deletes it.”
“Whatever you want.” He leaned down for another kiss.
@imyourbratzdoll @f10werfae @royalwritersoftheuniverses
Do u ever read a friend’s fic and it’s like holy shit how do you consider me qualified to talk to you?
𝗣𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 | beefy frat!rugby player!Ari Levinson x nerd!reader
𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 | established relationship, size difference: 6’8!Ari. SMUT - minors DNI, rimming (f), spanking, dirty talk, daddy kink, dumbification, hint of dacryphilia, size kink, wet and messy.
𝗦𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 | You’ll always be his number one fan.
𝗪/𝗖 | 741
𝗔/𝗡 | hi besties, here’s a drabble from this poll, i didn’t list it but wrote it anyway shh. There’s no masterlist for this au, everything is under #thick frat boy ari and drabbles are linked on my polls drabble masterlist (linked below).
˗ˏˋ𝐏𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐬 𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭ˎˊ˗ ⋰˚ 𝐂.𝐄. & 𝐂𝐨. 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
Shudders rock through your body and your sweaty skin sticks to the cold metal as you gasp for air. A sharp slap echoes through the room, rattling off the walls of lockers, and the stark view of the entrance reminds you of just how much trouble you could be in if you were caught.
“You gonna come for me, baby?” Wet, sloppy kisses pepper across your ass, leaving heat in its wake, “Gonna come with daddy’s tongue in your ass?”
You whine, “d-don’t say it like that—” You’re cut off by a yelp when his teeth pierce into your cheeks hard, right where his palm landed a mean spank.
“You don’t get to act all innocent now, not when you showed up in this.” He fists the tiny cheerleader skirt around your hips, the white fabric rolled up so he could feast. Your panties are another story and lying half-torn on the tiled floor with three letters hand-stitched on the back.
He could fuck you against the wall, hoist you up in his arms and bounce you on his cock like a little toy, but his name was on your ass—he had to get his mouth on you.
He showered before sneaking you into the locker room and he’ll have to shower again before you leave, but he doesn’t care. He can’t fucking care when his girl was the loudest in the crowd and holding up the cutest sign: ‘THE BULL/NUMBER 3 TACKLED MY HEART’ and the cherry on top was the beautiful bouquet of roses you brought down the field after they won.
No one has ever bought him flowers before. He often wondered how the hell you were so adorable and perfect, and how he even got the chance to be with you. Luck. He was so fucking lucky.
Saliva is smeared all over his lips, your essence evident in his thick beard, and Ari is seconds away from coming but he forces himself to hold back. Under his towel, he squeezes the fat base of his cock, “use daddy’s mouth, fuck yourself on my tongue. Or is that too dirty for you?” He spanks you again and soothes the burning flesh with his rough hand.
“No…”
Another slap, “then fucking do it.”
With a quiet cry, you rock back against his face, your hands searching for something to hold onto but it’s futile. That is until you reach behind and fist his hair. You yank him close, pathetic uh-uh-uhs escape your throat with every thrust of his tongue that meets your grinds. His muffled groans send shivers up your spine, you can hear how messy it is back there.
The tightening in your stomach intensifies when he traces your rim, slobbery kisses and suckles creep to your folds and creamy hole. He can’t resist tasting your cunt and grabs your hips, forcing you to arch your back, but then he gets a better idea.
“Rub your clit.”
“But I l-like when you do it.” You murmur, craning your neck to look down at him, only the toes of your sneakers on the floor. “My fingers don’t feel as good, daddy.”
“For someone so smart, you’re a fucking dummy sometimes.” He spits on your puckered hole then dips forward with his flat tongue, groaning lowly when you push back against him. “You want me to be sweet with your button, baby? Or do you want me to mean? Bully it, slap it, make it hurt ‘cause it’s so puffy.”
“Pl-Please be nice…” You sniffle, eyes rolling back when his thumb penetrates your tight wet rosebud. His other hand trails up your sticky thighs, teasing your slit. “I have an essay to do, can’t be hurtin’, daddy.”
“No? But don’t you love it when I’m mean?” He gently spreads your slick to your clit, rubbing slowly and sweetly, “Don’t you love when your button is so sensitive that I can’t even kiss it without you crying? You’re so pretty when you cry.”
With every passing second, you sink deeper into that floaty pool of pleasure. He was to blame, he was always to blame. His raspy voice, his thumb pumping in and out of your ass, and his delicate touch on your nub.
“I luh when you kiss it, daddy.”
“That’s not what I asked, little cub.” He chuckles softly, nibbling and kissing your flesh, “it’s okay, you get as dumb as you want, daddy’ll take care of you.”
𝐄𝐧𝐝𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: mhmhmh big boys mmmh
𝐒𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞! check in tomorrow for a drabble about fuckboys!ari & curtis x reader !!
As always, I hope you all enjoyed this and I’d love to hear your thoughts/feedback !! <3 — ☼ 𝐃𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐊𝐨-𝐟𝐢 ☼
I don’t do taglists anymore. ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 𝐅𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 & 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐨𝐧 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲: @𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲
Can you do a Imagine where gets jealous because the Reader have a Big crush on Ransom(His character)
Chris held the bowl of popcorn in front of your face.
“Aww thank you.”
“What’d you pick.” Chris plopped down next to you, stretching out his arms across the back of the couch.
“Don’t groan.” You gave him a warning look.
“Oh Jesus”
“Knives Out.” You bit your lip quickly
“Argh honey…” Chris threw his head back with a sigh.
“I said don’t groan!”
“Babe we have 5 different streaming subscriptions with 1000s of movies why do you want to watch the same person you see everyday?”
“I don’t want to watch you… I want to watch him.” You gestured to the promo banner of Ransom smirking.
“Fine you win but I’m going on my phone.”
The movie went on with you snacking of your popcorn and Chris occasionally looking up at you as you were engrossed in the same movie you’ve seen multiple times.
You hummed contently almost purring when Ransom came onto the screen, adjusting your position on the couch, thighs rubbing together.
“That’s it.” Chris snatched the remote off the table, pausing the movie
“Hey!”
“He’s a fucking murderer Y/N.” Chris raised his voice slightly.
“So what if he’s the devil Chris, at the least the devil has a job!”
“He doesn’t have a job, he’s a preppy rich asshole who MURDERS.”
“He’s hot!”
“It’s me! I’m right here!”
“Omg” you smirked with realisation
“What?” He scoffed
“You’re jealous.”
“Of a murderer…”
“No you’re jealous I find Ransom hot.”
“Pft I am not.” Chris leaned back, waving you off
“Yes you are, that’s why you hate watching it.”
“Do you hear how ridiculous this conversation sounds, Y/N, that’s me in a sweater.”
“It’s not just the sweater… although I love the sweater… it’s the confidence, the suave, the dickish behaviour… the clean shave.”
Chris’s mouth dropped “Take that back you love my beard!”
“I’m messing with you.” You turned to him, cupping his bearded cheek in your hand.
Chris groaned, head falling into your chest.
“I’m sick of that murderous asshole.”
“I prefer you if that helps.” You smiled down at him.
“I think I just like Ransom so much cause it’s you being very very sexy.” You ran your hands through his hair.
“You think I’m sexy?” He smirked up at you
You nodded “But can you say the thing in the voice just once… please?”
Raising upwards, stretching out his neck a little, he took a deep breathe, moving his faces inches from yours, the classic Ransom smirk on his face
“Eat shit.”
You squealed in delight, mounting his lap.
Your Chris's fluff alphabet was great. Can you write a smit alphabet?
A/N: I cant write a smit one but I can write a smut one. Lol. But also thank you cause I love these and loved my fluff one!! If anyone wants any fics on any of the letters send it to my inbox babies x
A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)
Chris will want to remain inside of you for a while after you’re both done, just catching his breath plus he likes the feeling of being inside of you but eventually you’ll shove him until he gets up and goes to the bathroom. He comes back with a warm cloth and then slowly cleans you up, making sure you’re alright, asking you your favourite part (He loves hearing he did good, mans has a praise kink). Then he’ll make sure you pee (YOU HAVE TO PEE) because he knows UTIs aint pretty and doesn’t want to be the reason you get one. Sometimes you’ll have a shower together and he’ll wrap you up in a towel and then takes you back to bed, cuddle with you and pat your hair until you’ve fallen asleep. Sometimes if you both aren’t completely dead by the end, he’ll open the door and let Dodger back in, make you both tea and you’ll cuddle while watching a movie.
B = Body Part (Their favorite body part of theirs and also their partners)
His hands calloused and rough his fingers fit perfectly around your throat, and he always knows the right kind of pressure to apply with his fingers against your skin or your pussy. You can’t get enough of his long digits deep inside of you or down your throat as you taste yourself on him. He also loves how good his hand looks around your pretty little throat, the way your eyes roll back into your head, and you gasp a little at the partial loss of air.
Everyone thinks Chris is an ass guy… and he is but your tits make him go wild. He’s arguably toeing the line over into tit guy territory. He always wants to have his face in them, even if you’re just sitting on his lap innocently, he calls them his favourite pillows. During sex, they’re always one of the main places he goes, just licking and sucking and nibbling on your nipples knowing it makes your back arch and you let out a gaspy moan. He loves the sound. He’s also gotten very used to tit jobs and while they don’t do much for you, you love how excited he gets, mounting you and putting his cock between your tits.
C = Cum (Anything to do with cum, basically)
Chris has a massive breeding kink, so the idea of you filled with his cum turns him on beyond belief and he wants as much of it in you as possible. Which includes shoving the oozing cum back in you with his fingers once he cums in you. Sure, you look absolutely gorgeous to him when its covered over your cheek and you show him his load on your tongue before you swallow but nothing beats a good cream pie.
The thought of putting a baby in your warm, soft womb and it being his, how nice and round your belly would get with his baby – drives him nuts. He’ll wait a little longer though for the real thing.
D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
You get a pedicure every month and always pearly white toes and Chris always asks to see them after, rubbing your feet, giving your toes a cheeky suck. He loves how they look against his cock when you tease it with your feet. It’s not an outright foot fetish but he does find your feet weirdly sexy, especially in heels or sandals. Especially the fact that they’re connected to your strong, curvy legs.
E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)
The man has history and he’s not ashamed of it. He always says there may have been girls before you but you’re the one in his bed every night so who cares. You weren’t no angel either! He always tells you the sex with you is different and he hasn’t experienced that level of intimacy and love with anyone else, plus you two are always doing new things together so it’s not like you haven’t had firsts with each other.
F = Favorite position (This goes without saying)
One week when Chris took you away to the cabin, he pulled out the Kuma Satra and you attempted every position in the book. Granted, some required flexibility that neither of you two could muster but it was one of the best weeks of his life. Trying out new things, you two never leaving the bedroom except for food and water. He loved it.
But the classics are still his favourite, particularly doggy in front of the mirror. This way he can see your pretty face when you cum. He loves how good you look with your back curved, ass high up in the air. He’ll bend over a little and put his fingers in your mouth or around your throat or force you to look at yourself by pulling on your hair. The angle is the best for both of you, with Chris hitting the super deep spots and you not having to do much work. He loves watching your ass jiggle and ripple when he has you in doggy, he can’t get enough of the thickness of your ass and how it feels when he rolls it around in his large hands, trying to get as much as he can.
But when he’s feeling a bit more romantic and intimate, it’s just classic missionary. He can look at your face and kiss your neck, intertwine your fingers, and hold your hands above your head. he likes it when you wrap your legs around him, trying to take him as deep as possible and the way your chest presses up against his, that alone drives him crazy.
G = Goofy (Are they more serious in that moment? Are they humorous? etc.)
The Kuma Satra week ended a lot of the time with you both falling into each other, laughing your heads off. He likes how you don’t take it too seriously all the time and he can joke or tease you a bit. Sometimes in doggy or when he’s going down on you, he’ll make a stupid joke saying he found a mole you’ve never seen before, looking up at you smirking. Early on in your relationship you named his dick “The Captain” and while at first, he groaned and told you not to call it that, he got on with the inside joke quickly. He’ll come up behind you and say, “The Captain is on alert.” Then rub his boner against you, or text you that “The Captain misses you”.
We love The Captain.
H = Hair (How well-groomed are they? Does the carpet match the drapes)
You banned Chris from shaving his snail trail because you just loved it so much. When he doesn’t have to shave his chest for movies, you’re the happiest girl alive. You love the big manly chest. Down low, he keeps it trimmed, it’s much like his beard in texture and length.
As for you, he says he doesn’t like hair in his food, but you were waxing way before he came along so it didn’t matter. A little hair isn’t going to stop him though so if you get lazy and let it grow, he treats it all the same. He knows better than to start telling a woman what to do with her body.
I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment? The romantic aspect)
Chris feels that intimacy isn’t just sex. It’s the little jokes you share or the soft squeeze of your waist to pull you closer. He’s a complete and utter romantic normally, and sex really comes into that.
He cried having sex with you once and when you thought you had done something completely wrong, he just looked up and said
“Sawrry its not you… well it is… I just got a little emotional about how much I love you and how lucky I am to be so close to you… its nothing though we can keep going if ya want. Sorry it’s probably not the biggest turn on to have a guy cry during sex” Safe to say you cried as well.
He thinks what you two have is super special and loves every second he gets to be close to you in that regard. He likes the ritual of lighting a candle, giving you a nice massage or putting rose petals on the bed just because.
He’s intense, when he’s deep inside of you, looking into your eyes and your hands are interlocked he’ll tell you he loves you with complete earnest laced in his voice. He loves that he’s able to be so intimate and vulnerable with you and only you. He thinks sex between you two is sacred and goes above just fucking – it’s an act of love and devotion for him and he makes that known every time.
J = Jack off (Masturbation head canon)
While nothing beats the feeling of you, long stretches of time away meant he had to take matters into his own hands (literally). Doesn’t mean he doesn’t take all the help he can get even to the point of spraying your perfume on the pillow and pulling out a pair of your panties from his luggage. And obviously, facetiming you no matter how tired he is. Being able to see your face and hear your voice as you egg him on sends him over the edge. He loves watching you doing your thing on camera, turning him on. He’ll lock the door and silence his phone, so all his attention is on your pretty little face.
When your miles away and fast asleep, he’ll go off the endless photos and videos on his phone of you… some with clothes on and some not…
K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)
The way you call him Daddy drives him wild, you’d never do it in front of people, but he loves hearing it. The way you release into his strong figure, letting him take control of things. He loves how cock drunk you get, unable to talk with him inside of you as he pry your mouth open with his thumb, rubbing it along your lower lip.
Pulling your arms behind your back in doggy and holding them secure with his hands is the nice and quick old-fashioned way. But you’ve got a little time, he’ll get out the fluffy handcuffs, they were a joke at first, but he loves watching you squirm, unable to touch his chest, his arms, his face or your clit, desperate for a release.
L = Location (Favorite places to do the do)
The bedroom obviously is the top option; everything you need, endless privacy and the bathroom is right there.
But you both get a secret kick out of event bathrooms, doing a sneak away, one at a time to be discrete. The last person closing the door behind them and immediately you two jumping on each other, literally, you’ll jump him, and he’ll catch you readily, lips attached yours as he places you on the sink while your hands fall to his belt, trying to get it undone as quickly as possible.
The back of cars get too stuffy and aren’t your favourite, but he’ll slip his fingers under your dress and tease your clit a bit or you’ll palm him over his pants maybe even stroke it a little before you have to get out, both now horny and frustrated till the moment you can sneak away.
M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)
Seeing you wear his clothes.
When you’re sweaty after a workout, he reckons you taste like a beautiful, salty/sweet mix and he loves how you look in leggings.
When you have to jump a little to get something off a high shelf or when running up the stairs and your boobs bounce, and a ripple falls across your whole body.
Anything tight and sexy that shows off your soft skin and the curve of your body – he adores. When you have to be serious for a work call or a meeting. He could watch you talk all day in your professional voice over zoom, hair in a claw clip and glasses on your face, only he can see the tiny shorts your wearing under the desk. He calls you his sexy receptionist and he’d stare at you all day if he didn’t want to rip your clothes off.
But his true motivation, is people flirting with you. All the ogling eyes, lingering stares, and poor attempts to whoo you motivate him more to pull you closer, take you home and prove to you, who really deserves your love and that he’s the only guy allowed to take you to bed.
N = No (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
Three ways and above. Chris was never good with sharing growing up so there is no way in hell that he would ever share his favourite thing in the world… you. People think you have this open Hollywood relationship, but it couldn’t be further from the truth because he is extremely loyal and holds you to the same standard, he holds himself. 100% Monogamous. He wants to be the only one making you cum. (and he gets jealous way too easily)
O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
He loves when you get on your knees and worship his cock, and all your little tricks you do with your tongue and mouth. But he much prefers the way you react when he goes down on you.
He loves overstimulating you and making you go crazy; he knows if you say stop you don’t really mean it (you have another safe word) because your hand is pulling his head deep into your core. He’ll pull your legs over his shoulders, get a firm grip on the skin of your ass and pin you down to the bed and his favourite, using his strength to pin you up against the wall effortlessly no matter your size. He won’t stop until you’re completely out of juices to cover his beard with. He loves the taste of you on his tongue, the feeling of you pulling on his hair and leaving red marks on his back. He doesn’t care if he can’t really breathe while he’s being smothering by the beautiful, soft, plump skin of your thighs. Lapping, sucking, nibbling, and rubbing with his tongue and fingers.
Chris thinks he has a magical tongue… and he does, he just doesn’t let you hear the end of it. He will always go down on you first, he likes it even more than getting head. He’ll be between your legs, licking and sucking up every drop of your sweet goodness, spitting on your folds, inhaling the scent of you and holding you down as you try and wiggle out of his grip. It’s a lot of “Give me one more baby.” And “God, you go crazy for my mouth don’t ya sweetheart?” He’s such a dick about it but you love him between your legs so you’re not gonna complain. He’s not just using it on your pussy... no… he’s licking at your ear, rolling it along your thighs or your lower back and shoving it in your mouth whenever he gets the chance – he always tastes either like mint gum or beer… and sometimes both and it’s a delicious mixture that makes you go weak.
Especially, when you’re on your stomach and he can move his tongue up towards your tight little hole, teasing it to prepare it for his finger.
P = Pace (Are they fast and rough, slow and sensual? etc.)
It depends, sometimes sex is for you two to reconnect in an intimate, sexual “I missed you” way and then its slow and sensual with lots of slow, deep wet kisses and you can enjoy feeling every vein of him against your walls.
But other times, to get you both over the edge it’ll move into the vigorous pace of his balls slapping against your pussy and his cock pounding into you so you can feel every hit of your cervix.
Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickie, how often etc.)
With Chris’ schedule you don’t get many nights together and you both kind of like the sudden thrill of ripping each other’s clothes off to get as close as you possibly can. Wherever and whenever you can, his pants will be at his ankles and your dress ridden up, with you pushed against the nearest wall or surface. You stopped wearing underwear so frequently so he could always have easy access. It always ends with you just making sure your dress doesn’t look weird after a quickie in the bathroom and you trying to push him off because he keeps kissing and rubbing on you saying he wants more. But you always end, smiling from him kissing every inch of your face and tickling your sides to emit those cute little giggles.
R = Risk (Are they game to experiment? Do they take risks? etc.)
If no one gets hurt… he’ll do it. While you two don’t do anything super crazy, he gets a kick out of reading some bizarre sex tip online or seeing some crazy position and then doing it with you. He brought a massage candle and went crazy for the feeling of you pouring hot wax on his chest. He likes trying new things because he figures you never know what crazy idea will make its way onto your permanent list of activities.
S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for? How long do they last?)
He goes well for his age, as long as you cum at least twice he’s happy. Hell, he could go all day with breaks for meals. One time as a “joke” he took Viagra. He didn’t need it; a buddy just gave it to him as a joke and he took it. You both were sore for the next 2 weeks because he couldn’t stop fucking you. You tried a thousand different things to try and get him over the edge, you were up till 4am until sleep gave in. It was fun but the mix of horniness and inability to cum just made him go crazy. You promptly banned him from ever taking it again.
T = Toys (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)
The drawer. You two are kinky, so you have a whole drawer in his bedside table dedicated to toys. Handcuffs, rope, blindfolds, butt plugs, vibrators, dildos, vibrator remotes – you don’t always use them (because you don’t have to) but it’s always fun when you have time and want to get a little extra spicier. He’ll sometimes lean over and grab the little bullet vibrator he got for you and place it on your clit while he’s fucking you, for that little extra push to get you over the edge.
U = Unfair (How much they like to tease)
Chris is a massive tease whether it’s coming out of the bathroom holding his towel so it’s just covering the Captain or coming up behind you, barely scraping his crotch against your ass. Always the non-cholent, faux innocence asking you what you’re doing, how you are feeling, if you want some loving. Running his hands down your sides, moving them towards your hips and ass and giving you soft grabs, pinching at your rolls to make you giggle. Then you’ll confront him and ask him what he’s doing, and he’ll go all “Oh nothing… don’t worry about it.”
Sometimes, he’ll even just pretend not to care when you’re in the mood, giving you “hmms and umms” not looking up from whatever he’s doing just to see how long you can take it. Like a fucking psycho.
He knows not to tease you too much when you’re in the mood or in the moment or you’ll start crying from frustration, Chris doesn’t want his baby crying he just wants to make you feel good. He also can’t keep his hands off you for long.
V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
There’s no need to be quiet with the house to yourself so Chris is full of groans and grunts, even a little bit of whining if you tease him too long, to the point your neighbours probably think he’s in pain…
But he loves how much you love dirty talk whispered in your ear.
W = Wild Card (A random headcanon)
Your period and Chris’ schedule don’t always see eye to eye. Meaning when he comes home after a long time away and all he wants to do is bury his cock in you, a bit of blood is the last thing that’s going to stop him. He’ll throw a towel down and never makes a big deal if a little gets on him, it’s just a period. You also enjoy it more (if that’s even possible with Chris), all your hormones running wild, orgasms and sensations are heightened. He notices it a huge help with your mood swings and cramps so now he just sees it as a win-win situation.
He’s not putting his head down there though.
X = X-ray (Let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
We’ve all seen it. That shit is as thick as a coke can.
So, Chris knows that before he even tries to push it there must be lube. Whether that’s the good stuff from the bottle, his spit or him taking extra time to get you really turned on beforehand. Because there is no way that thing is slipping in raw. He’ll always make sure to mention how tight you are around him and how good you take his cock.
Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)
Pretty fucking high… but not to exhaustion.
If Chris is at home, you’re doing it 4 times a week minimum. Morning, during breakfast, lunch, before bed, middle of the night – it doesn’t matter if you’re both game and wanting. It’s impressive for his age and he doesn’t isn’t the old man he claims his is with all that energy to please you. You think he’s trying to make up for all the times he’s away. Maybe if he wasn’t away for half the year it’d be steady and normal but he always comes home ravenous and desperate for you.
Z = Zzz (How quickly they fall asleep)
After a hot and heavy love making session, once you’ve both done the necessary aftercare you are both spent. Chris nuzzles his bearded chin into your chest or neck and falls right asleep in your warm embrace and you both drop off pretty quickly. But don’t worry he’ll be nudging you awake at 2am for round 2.
Your Chris's fluff alphabet was great. Can you write a smit alphabet?
A/N: I cant write a smit one but I can write a smut one. Lol. But also thank you cause I love these and loved my fluff one!! If anyone wants any fics on any of the letters send it to my inbox babies x
A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)
Chris will want to remain inside of you for a while after you’re both done, just catching his breath plus he likes the feeling of being inside of you but eventually you’ll shove him until he gets up and goes to the bathroom. He comes back with a warm cloth and then slowly cleans you up, making sure you’re alright, asking you your favourite part (He loves hearing he did good, mans has a praise kink). Then he’ll make sure you pee (YOU HAVE TO PEE) because he knows UTIs aint pretty and doesn’t want to be the reason you get one. Sometimes you’ll have a shower together and he’ll wrap you up in a towel and then takes you back to bed, cuddle with you and pat your hair until you’ve fallen asleep. Sometimes if you both aren’t completely dead by the end, he’ll open the door and let Dodger back in, make you both tea and you’ll cuddle while watching a movie.
B = Body Part (Their favorite body part of theirs and also their partners)
His hands calloused and rough his fingers fit perfectly around your throat, and he always knows the right kind of pressure to apply with his fingers against your skin or your pussy. You can’t get enough of his long digits deep inside of you or down your throat as you taste yourself on him. He also loves how good his hand looks around your pretty little throat, the way your eyes roll back into your head, and you gasp a little at the partial loss of air.
Everyone thinks Chris is an ass guy… and he is but your tits make him go wild. He’s arguably toeing the line over into tit guy territory. He always wants to have his face in them, even if you’re just sitting on his lap innocently, he calls them his favourite pillows. During sex, they’re always one of the main places he goes, just licking and sucking and nibbling on your nipples knowing it makes your back arch and you let out a gaspy moan. He loves the sound. He’s also gotten very used to tit jobs and while they don’t do much for you, you love how excited he gets, mounting you and putting his cock between your tits.
C = Cum (Anything to do with cum, basically)
Chris has a massive breeding kink, so the idea of you filled with his cum turns him on beyond belief and he wants as much of it in you as possible. Which includes shoving the oozing cum back in you with his fingers once he cums in you. Sure, you look absolutely gorgeous to him when its covered over your cheek and you show him his load on your tongue before you swallow but nothing beats a good cream pie.
The thought of putting a baby in your warm, soft womb and it being his, how nice and round your belly would get with his baby – drives him nuts. He’ll wait a little longer though for the real thing.
D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
You get a pedicure every month and always pearly white toes and Chris always asks to see them after, rubbing your feet, giving your toes a cheeky suck. He loves how they look against his cock when you tease it with your feet. It’s not an outright foot fetish but he does find your feet weirdly sexy, especially in heels or sandals. Especially the fact that they’re connected to your strong, curvy legs.
E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)
The man has history and he’s not ashamed of it. He always says there may have been girls before you but you’re the one in his bed every night so who cares. You weren’t no angel either! He always tells you the sex with you is different and he hasn’t experienced that level of intimacy and love with anyone else, plus you two are always doing new things together so it’s not like you haven’t had firsts with each other.
F = Favorite position (This goes without saying)
One week when Chris took you away to the cabin, he pulled out the Kuma Satra and you attempted every position in the book. Granted, some required flexibility that neither of you two could muster but it was one of the best weeks of his life. Trying out new things, you two never leaving the bedroom except for food and water. He loved it.
But the classics are still his favourite, particularly doggy in front of the mirror. This way he can see your pretty face when you cum. He loves how good you look with your back curved, ass high up in the air. He’ll bend over a little and put his fingers in your mouth or around your throat or force you to look at yourself by pulling on your hair. The angle is the best for both of you, with Chris hitting the super deep spots and you not having to do much work. He loves watching your ass jiggle and ripple when he has you in doggy, he can’t get enough of the thickness of your ass and how it feels when he rolls it around in his large hands, trying to get as much as he can.
But when he’s feeling a bit more romantic and intimate, it’s just classic missionary. He can look at your face and kiss your neck, intertwine your fingers, and hold your hands above your head. he likes it when you wrap your legs around him, trying to take him as deep as possible and the way your chest presses up against his, that alone drives him crazy.
G = Goofy (Are they more serious in that moment? Are they humorous? etc.)
The Kuma Satra week ended a lot of the time with you both falling into each other, laughing your heads off. He likes how you don’t take it too seriously all the time and he can joke or tease you a bit. Sometimes in doggy or when he’s going down on you, he’ll make a stupid joke saying he found a mole you’ve never seen before, looking up at you smirking. Early on in your relationship you named his dick “The Captain” and while at first, he groaned and told you not to call it that, he got on with the inside joke quickly. He’ll come up behind you and say, “The Captain is on alert.” Then rub his boner against you, or text you that “The Captain misses you”.
We love The Captain.
H = Hair (How well-groomed are they? Does the carpet match the drapes)
You banned Chris from shaving his snail trail because you just loved it so much. When he doesn’t have to shave his chest for movies, you’re the happiest girl alive. You love the big manly chest. Down low, he keeps it trimmed, it’s much like his beard in texture and length.
As for you, he says he doesn’t like hair in his food, but you were waxing way before he came along so it didn’t matter. A little hair isn’t going to stop him though so if you get lazy and let it grow, he treats it all the same. He knows better than to start telling a woman what to do with her body.
I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment? The romantic aspect)
Chris feels that intimacy isn’t just sex. It’s the little jokes you share or the soft squeeze of your waist to pull you closer. He’s a complete and utter romantic normally, and sex really comes into that.
He cried having sex with you once and when you thought you had done something completely wrong, he just looked up and said
“Sawrry its not you… well it is… I just got a little emotional about how much I love you and how lucky I am to be so close to you… its nothing though we can keep going if ya want. Sorry it’s probably not the biggest turn on to have a guy cry during sex” Safe to say you cried as well.
He thinks what you two have is super special and loves every second he gets to be close to you in that regard. He likes the ritual of lighting a candle, giving you a nice massage or putting rose petals on the bed just because.
He’s intense, when he’s deep inside of you, looking into your eyes and your hands are interlocked he’ll tell you he loves you with complete earnest laced in his voice. He loves that he’s able to be so intimate and vulnerable with you and only you. He thinks sex between you two is sacred and goes above just fucking – it’s an act of love and devotion for him and he makes that known every time.
J = Jack off (Masturbation head canon)
While nothing beats the feeling of you, long stretches of time away meant he had to take matters into his own hands (literally). Doesn’t mean he doesn’t take all the help he can get even to the point of spraying your perfume on the pillow and pulling out a pair of your panties from his luggage. And obviously, facetiming you no matter how tired he is. Being able to see your face and hear your voice as you egg him on sends him over the edge. He loves watching you doing your thing on camera, turning him on. He’ll lock the door and silence his phone, so all his attention is on your pretty little face.
When your miles away and fast asleep, he’ll go off the endless photos and videos on his phone of you… some with clothes on and some not…
K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)
The way you call him Daddy drives him wild, you’d never do it in front of people, but he loves hearing it. The way you release into his strong figure, letting him take control of things. He loves how cock drunk you get, unable to talk with him inside of you as he pry your mouth open with his thumb, rubbing it along your lower lip.
Pulling your arms behind your back in doggy and holding them secure with his hands is the nice and quick old-fashioned way. But you’ve got a little time, he’ll get out the fluffy handcuffs, they were a joke at first, but he loves watching you squirm, unable to touch his chest, his arms, his face or your clit, desperate for a release.
L = Location (Favorite places to do the do)
The bedroom obviously is the top option; everything you need, endless privacy and the bathroom is right there.
But you both get a secret kick out of event bathrooms, doing a sneak away, one at a time to be discrete. The last person closing the door behind them and immediately you two jumping on each other, literally, you’ll jump him, and he’ll catch you readily, lips attached yours as he places you on the sink while your hands fall to his belt, trying to get it undone as quickly as possible.
The back of cars get too stuffy and aren’t your favourite, but he’ll slip his fingers under your dress and tease your clit a bit or you’ll palm him over his pants maybe even stroke it a little before you have to get out, both now horny and frustrated till the moment you can sneak away.
M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)
Seeing you wear his clothes.
When you’re sweaty after a workout, he reckons you taste like a beautiful, salty/sweet mix and he loves how you look in leggings.
When you have to jump a little to get something off a high shelf or when running up the stairs and your boobs bounce, and a ripple falls across your whole body.
Anything tight and sexy that shows off your soft skin and the curve of your body – he adores. When you have to be serious for a work call or a meeting. He could watch you talk all day in your professional voice over zoom, hair in a claw clip and glasses on your face, only he can see the tiny shorts your wearing under the desk. He calls you his sexy receptionist and he’d stare at you all day if he didn’t want to rip your clothes off.
But his true motivation, is people flirting with you. All the ogling eyes, lingering stares, and poor attempts to whoo you motivate him more to pull you closer, take you home and prove to you, who really deserves your love and that he’s the only guy allowed to take you to bed.
N = No (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
Three ways and above. Chris was never good with sharing growing up so there is no way in hell that he would ever share his favourite thing in the world… you. People think you have this open Hollywood relationship, but it couldn’t be further from the truth because he is extremely loyal and holds you to the same standard, he holds himself. 100% Monogamous. He wants to be the only one making you cum. (and he gets jealous way too easily)
O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
He loves when you get on your knees and worship his cock, and all your little tricks you do with your tongue and mouth. But he much prefers the way you react when he goes down on you.
He loves overstimulating you and making you go crazy; he knows if you say stop you don’t really mean it (you have another safe word) because your hand is pulling his head deep into your core. He’ll pull your legs over his shoulders, get a firm grip on the skin of your ass and pin you down to the bed and his favourite, using his strength to pin you up against the wall effortlessly no matter your size. He won’t stop until you’re completely out of juices to cover his beard with. He loves the taste of you on his tongue, the feeling of you pulling on his hair and leaving red marks on his back. He doesn’t care if he can’t really breathe while he’s being smothering by the beautiful, soft, plump skin of your thighs. Lapping, sucking, nibbling, and rubbing with his tongue and fingers.
Chris thinks he has a magical tongue… and he does, he just doesn’t let you hear the end of it. He will always go down on you first, he likes it even more than getting head. He’ll be between your legs, licking and sucking up every drop of your sweet goodness, spitting on your folds, inhaling the scent of you and holding you down as you try and wiggle out of his grip. It’s a lot of “Give me one more baby.” And “God, you go crazy for my mouth don’t ya sweetheart?” He’s such a dick about it but you love him between your legs so you’re not gonna complain. He’s not just using it on your pussy... no… he’s licking at your ear, rolling it along your thighs or your lower back and shoving it in your mouth whenever he gets the chance – he always tastes either like mint gum or beer… and sometimes both and it’s a delicious mixture that makes you go weak.
Especially, when you’re on your stomach and he can move his tongue up towards your tight little hole, teasing it to prepare it for his finger.
P = Pace (Are they fast and rough, slow and sensual? etc.)
It depends, sometimes sex is for you two to reconnect in an intimate, sexual “I missed you” way and then its slow and sensual with lots of slow, deep wet kisses and you can enjoy feeling every vein of him against your walls.
But other times, to get you both over the edge it’ll move into the vigorous pace of his balls slapping against your pussy and his cock pounding into you so you can feel every hit of your cervix.
Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickie, how often etc.)
With Chris’ schedule you don’t get many nights together and you both kind of like the sudden thrill of ripping each other’s clothes off to get as close as you possibly can. Wherever and whenever you can, his pants will be at his ankles and your dress ridden up, with you pushed against the nearest wall or surface. You stopped wearing underwear so frequently so he could always have easy access. It always ends with you just making sure your dress doesn’t look weird after a quickie in the bathroom and you trying to push him off because he keeps kissing and rubbing on you saying he wants more. But you always end, smiling from him kissing every inch of your face and tickling your sides to emit those cute little giggles.
R = Risk (Are they game to experiment? Do they take risks? etc.)
If no one gets hurt… he’ll do it. While you two don’t do anything super crazy, he gets a kick out of reading some bizarre sex tip online or seeing some crazy position and then doing it with you. He brought a massage candle and went crazy for the feeling of you pouring hot wax on his chest. He likes trying new things because he figures you never know what crazy idea will make its way onto your permanent list of activities.
S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for? How long do they last?)
He goes well for his age, as long as you cum at least twice he’s happy. Hell, he could go all day with breaks for meals. One time as a “joke” he took Viagra. He didn’t need it; a buddy just gave it to him as a joke and he took it. You both were sore for the next 2 weeks because he couldn’t stop fucking you. You tried a thousand different things to try and get him over the edge, you were up till 4am until sleep gave in. It was fun but the mix of horniness and inability to cum just made him go crazy. You promptly banned him from ever taking it again.
T = Toys (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)
The drawer. You two are kinky, so you have a whole drawer in his bedside table dedicated to toys. Handcuffs, rope, blindfolds, butt plugs, vibrators, dildos, vibrator remotes – you don’t always use them (because you don’t have to) but it’s always fun when you have time and want to get a little extra spicier. He’ll sometimes lean over and grab the little bullet vibrator he got for you and place it on your clit while he’s fucking you, for that little extra push to get you over the edge.
U = Unfair (How much they like to tease)
Chris is a massive tease whether it’s coming out of the bathroom holding his towel so it’s just covering the Captain or coming up behind you, barely scraping his crotch against your ass. Always the non-cholent, faux innocence asking you what you’re doing, how you are feeling, if you want some loving. Running his hands down your sides, moving them towards your hips and ass and giving you soft grabs, pinching at your rolls to make you giggle. Then you’ll confront him and ask him what he’s doing, and he’ll go all “Oh nothing… don’t worry about it.”
Sometimes, he’ll even just pretend not to care when you’re in the mood, giving you “hmms and umms” not looking up from whatever he’s doing just to see how long you can take it. Like a fucking psycho.
He knows not to tease you too much when you’re in the mood or in the moment or you’ll start crying from frustration, Chris doesn’t want his baby crying he just wants to make you feel good. He also can’t keep his hands off you for long.
V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
There’s no need to be quiet with the house to yourself so Chris is full of groans and grunts, even a little bit of whining if you tease him too long, to the point your neighbours probably think he’s in pain…
But he loves how much you love dirty talk whispered in your ear.
W = Wild Card (A random headcanon)
Your period and Chris’ schedule don’t always see eye to eye. Meaning when he comes home after a long time away and all he wants to do is bury his cock in you, a bit of blood is the last thing that’s going to stop him. He’ll throw a towel down and never makes a big deal if a little gets on him, it’s just a period. You also enjoy it more (if that’s even possible with Chris), all your hormones running wild, orgasms and sensations are heightened. He notices it a huge help with your mood swings and cramps so now he just sees it as a win-win situation.
He’s not putting his head down there though.
X = X-ray (Let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
We’ve all seen it. That shit is as thick as a coke can.
So, Chris knows that before he even tries to push it there must be lube. Whether that’s the good stuff from the bottle, his spit or him taking extra time to get you really turned on beforehand. Because there is no way that thing is slipping in raw. He’ll always make sure to mention how tight you are around him and how good you take his cock.
Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)
Pretty fucking high… but not to exhaustion.
If Chris is at home, you’re doing it 4 times a week minimum. Morning, during breakfast, lunch, before bed, middle of the night – it doesn’t matter if you’re both game and wanting. It’s impressive for his age and he doesn’t isn’t the old man he claims his is with all that energy to please you. You think he’s trying to make up for all the times he’s away. Maybe if he wasn’t away for half the year it’d be steady and normal but he always comes home ravenous and desperate for you.
Z = Zzz (How quickly they fall asleep)
After a hot and heavy love making session, once you’ve both done the necessary aftercare you are both spent. Chris nuzzles his bearded chin into your chest or neck and falls right asleep in your warm embrace and you both drop off pretty quickly. But don’t worry he’ll be nudging you awake at 2am for round 2.
Dad! chris evans and mom! reader took their kids to see disney land, florida for the first time!
This is great! I love it! But... I already wrote a Disneyland fic and since I have never been to Disneyland Florida, you have two choices
I repost the one I already did with tweaks (boring... lazy... yawning)
OR
You give me Dad!Chris different scenario... 🤭
Keep it fresh people!
Please like and reblog if you use or save.
Part 2 Coming Soon!
If you'd like a different colour or to use the other styles against a different image then drop a comment and I'll send it in a message
Dividers List
Y/N get Cancer and don’t Feel Good enough for Chris. She trys to set up Chris with a Girl and chris don’t notice at the beginning But when Y/N Starts to Talk to much about This Girl He gets angry and Sad Why the Reader to that. happy ending (Y/N don’t have Cancer anymore)
Firstly, hope you're doing ok, you strong, gorgeous person 💕
This is a beautiful request but unfortunately, not experiencing something like that myself and it also being such a sensitive topic - I don't think I can write this and do it justice. 🥺
But - @royalwritersoftheuniverse is amazeballs and is good at this stuff and gives you all the fluff!!
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.
A request where Chris Evans meet Robert Downey Jr. Tomboy Little sister, reader Downey, who works as a hair stylist and make-up stylist. He asked her out but she says no. 2nd time no in a bar and third time yes during the avengers endgame is a wrap
This is a brilliant request but... I feel like it can only be done well in a series. 🧐
Soooo, I’m happy to announce...
Coming Soon:
Can you write about ransom being interested of fucking his shy wife, reader's big ass.
You lay in your silk nightie, face down on the bed, mindlessly scrolling through your phone until you felt the mattress sink and a familiar figure appear next you, rubbing their hand up your calves and towards you partly exposed ass.
“Hey bunny.” Ransom eyes were fixated on your lower back.
“My eyes are up here.” You moved your head to the side, smiling at your handsome husband.
He moved to lie on the bed, hand still lightly moving back and forth into your fleshy backside.
“I had an idea bunny.” He looked you in the eyes now, mischievous written all over his face.
“What is it?”
“You know it’s such a waste, having an ass like that and not using it for good.”
“What you mean? I’m always shaking it.” You wiggled your ass a bit for emphasis. Ransom groaned at the ripple that flew through the flesh, he grabbed it lightly and gave it a soft smack being met with a small yelp from you.
“Not that bunny, it’s just that I’ve been lucky enough to fuck 2/3 of your holes and thought maybe we should go 3 for 3..”
Your eyes widened at the suggestion.
“We don’t have to. I’d go slow and if you hated it we’d stop but I know how you like to try new things and-.”
“Would it hurt?” You looked at him, worry on your face.
“Yeah, but so did your first time and now you love it.”
You bite your lip “That’s true.”
Ransom moved closer to you, lying next you and holding out his arm for you to snuggle closer. His hand running down your back, rubbing your ass softly.
“We can start slow.” He purred, pulling you up by your chin to look at him so he could gauge the emotions of your face.
“How does that work?” You were anxious but curious.
“Well, we’d start with my tongue...” The mention of his tongue made you perk up.
“Like I always do.” He chuckled. “And I’d move it lower, run it around your rim.”
“And then when your you’re in doggy and nicely turned on… I’d get the wet stuff from your pretty little pussy and slip in a single finger.” He held up the number one.
“It wouldn’t hurt, you’d love it… you like feeling full don’t you bunny?” You nodded submissively at your handsome husband.
“And then, when you’re really ready, I’d get you a pretty pink buttplug and while you’re all hot, heavy and distracted, I’d slip it in your ass.” You gasped as Ransom.
“I’d give you a little time to adjust and it would only be a little bigger than my finger.” You nodded agreeably, thoughts of buttplugs danced through your head.
“Would it get stuck?” You asked innocently, Ransom’s head threw back in a chuckle.
“No baby it has a stopper, I wouldn’t let that happen… you know why?”
“Why?” A smile was showing now as you were impressed with your ability to make him laugh.
“Because I’d have control of it, slowly pushing it in and out of you.”
“And then what?” You were curious now, moving onto of Ransom so your hands were on either side of his chest, his hand still firmly on your ass.
“And then when you’re about to cum, I’d pull it out with a pop.” He moved his mouth and mimicked the sound of the word for emphasis. “You’d lose your mind bunny.” You lay your head on his chest, gazing up at him, hanging on his every word.
“And then overtime, the buttplugs would get a little bigger and longer each time I fucked you until I think you’re ready.”
“Ready for what?”
“For my cock in your ass.” He said it so casually, the smirk on his face never leaving.
You bite your lip at his salacious comment. Thoughts clouded your head and a wet spot formed in your panties at the thought of Ran filling all your holes.
His digit slowly slides up and down your crack, teasing the hole under the thin strip of fabric.
After that discussion, Ransom’s touches and slaps on your ass became more frequent.
Grabbing a bunch of fat to pull you closer.
Teasing your crack as you were standing and occupied, dragging his finger up and down.
He took you to the sex shop letting you pick out whichever buttplug you wanted, you naturally chose the pink one with a sparkly stopper.
And lube, a whole bottle of anal relaxing lube.
Ari is divorced and moving out of the house to an apartment where he meets a happy married, reader with big breasts. Her husband is out of town one day, she and ari have intense sexual one night stand
I also think I forgot how to write so please give feedback on this one, like why are some bits in past tense??? Idk I'm insecure validate me 🥺
WARNINGS: SMUT MINORS DNI. 8k filth, oral (f receiving, m receiving), dirty talk, sex, orgasm, P in v, Daddy kink (naturally), hair pulling, spit, shitty exes, swearing.
You sat in your apartment, comfy on the couch and freshly single. While most people would see this as a great time to spend their Friday nights going to clubs, seeking for a new dick to get under – you found it the perfect time to bask in the freedom of having uninterrupted you time. That was until a knock at the door caught you off guard.
You sprung up with a groan, tip toeing to look through the peephole and find out who had the audacity to knock on your door at 10:30 on a Friday night.
“Brian” You muttered under your breath in a disdained tone.
Brian. Your whiny, dickish, loser ex. Who despite not having any concrete plans for life besides his regular Friday night strip club visit still thought you could prove yourself to be more “wife material’. By that he meant, on top of making dinner, picking him up at 2am from said strip club visits so he didn’t have to spend money on a Taxi. Safe to say, dumping him didn’t hurt as much as you thought it would.
You pulled open the door, standing in your almost too small pyjama set. “Can I help you?”
“I think you can.” He gave you a sick smirk, closing the space between you by moving his hands towards your waist.
“Don’t fucking touch me Brian. We aren’t together.” Slapping his hand away.
“Don’t be a bitch, everyone hooks up with their ex.”
“Well, I don’t want so can you please leave?” You heard heavy footsteps coming up the stairs from the lobby and you got anxious at the thought of a neighbour witnessing this cringe worthy altercation.
“I’m not leaving until you let me in.” He moved his foot past the threshold of the door frame, to prevent you from closing the door on his face.
“Brian you can’t-“
“She said leave.” A foreign voice sounded from down the hallway cutting you off, both your heads flung to the source.
The tall, brooding man had only been your neighbour for a week, you passed by each other with tight smiles both of you too occupied to say hello. But that didn’t stop you from getting a good look at him. He was handsome in a ruggish way, often only sporting shorts and wife beaters, sweat forming on his head as he lugged boxes into his apartment. You noticed the gold band on his large finger, yet no man or wife in sight. Yet, today there was no ring and he had swapped the wife beater for a button up shirt and jeans.
“Who the fuck are you?” Brian spat at the man who could beat him to a pulp with minimal effort. Ah Brian, always so confident for a man whose dick was the size of your pinky.
Your hide your face in your hands in a mix of embarrassment and frustration.
“Ari, now I suggest you leave her alone.” He moved closer to you both, slightly moving his body in front of you, blocking Brian from entering.
“She’s my girlfriend and this was our apartment so I think I can stay but thanks pal.” Brian sounded confident but his voice waivered as he cranked his neck to look up at Ari.
“I’m not your girlfriend.” Ari looked back at you, catching your eyes, giving you a soft smile.
“Well, that settles it so either you leave, or I make you leave.” Ari knelt a little, getting close to Brian’s face his voice was calm and level, but his eyes told Brian he wasn’t bluffing.
Brian huffed and made his way back down the hall, not before turning back “Enjoy her she’s a bitch but she’s slutty.”
Ari flashed a glowing smile and a prominent middle finger as he pushed his way into your apartment, closing the door behind him.
“You, ok?”
“I’m used to it but thank you for helping he wouldn’t have never left if you didn’t step in.”
“Don’t worry about it but you look like you need a stiff drink – got anything good?”
“Tequila?”
“Perfect.” He purred, following you as you made your way to your small bar cart, catching a glimpse of the soft skin that hang out slightly from your pyjama shorts.
You grabbed the bottle and twisted the cap;
“You know your wife’s really lucky to have you around.” You spoke as you poured two shots.
“Ex-wife.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be she was my equivalent of him.” You both chuckled at the mutual understanding of horrible exes.
“Y/N, by the way.” You spoke as you handed him the novelty shot glass.
“Good to finally put a name to my pretty neighbour.” You blushed as you clinked glasses, both downing the burning liquid in sync.
“Another?” You smirked at him.
1 shot turned into 4 as you and Ari sat on your couch, bonding over stories of your exes’ antics and anxieties about re-entering the dating scene. Both losing track of time as the hours fell into early morning. But neither of you felt tired, invigorated by your conversation and the upper coursing through your veins.
“She did not!” You hand fell to your mouth as Ari recounted the story of walking in on his ex fucking his friend on their kitchen counter.
“She did.” He nodded slowly, sipping his beer as he recalled on the sight.
“Well, she’s crazy. I mean, why would anyone cheat on you… when they have well… YOU. God, I mean if I had my own version of sexy Jesus at home, I’d never leave bed.” Ari’s eyes went dark at your bold comment as the image of you and him in bed clouding his mind.
You swallowed hard, realising the tequila was speaking for you and you had invertedly just admitted you found your neighbour hot.
“Sorry I didn’t mean to say you were hot, I mean yes you are hot but-“
“Sexy Jesus?” He crocked an eyebrow at you.
“Yeah, I mean you know with the hair and beard... like… Jesus”
“I’m Jewish.”
“So, you could possibly be a descendent of Jesus then.” You tried to muffle the laugh threatening to spill as your nonsensical statement. But Ari beat you to it, reaching forward in a fit of laughter, his hand grabbing his pecs.
“You are something else Y/N… in a good way, I see why your ex showed up at your door.”
“What can I say I’m very addictive.” You twirled your hand along the rim of your glass, avoiding his prominent gaze.
“Was he telling the truth about that last comment?”
“That I’m his girlfriend? No no we definitely broke up.”
“No, I meant that you’re slutty.”
Your eyes widened and the mouthful of drink you just sipped threatened to spit out.
“I mean that depends…”
“On…?”
“On your definition of slutty.”
“I took it as you were good in the sack.” He was leaning back on the couch now, his long arms stretched along the back, his hand deathly close to your neck.
“I am not “good in the sack”, I am fucking great in the sack.” You leaned in closer to his figure on the last line, your face getting closer to his. Slowly placing your drink onto the coffee table.
He licked his lips in hunger, shortly before he closed the space between you two, his hand falling to your cheek to pull you closer.
You closed your eyes, relaxing into the soft feeling of his beard against your skin as you explored each other’s mouths.
In a swift motion, his mouth never leaving yours, he placed his drink next to yours, moving his hand back to you cup your ass that was slowly raising itself off the couch.
Moving his hand downwards, hooking your leg over his lap so your chest was now pressed against his button up shirt. Not satisfied at the feeling of fabric against you, you pulled away to undo the buttons, revealing his tanned, hairy chest and the shiny gold Star of David chain.
His chest heaved, watching you eagerly as you fiddled with the buttons. “Oh, fuck it!” You ripped his shirt to reveal the delectable abs hidden underneath. Your mouth returning to his as you ran your hands through his dark, shiny locks. He shimmied the rest of the flannel off, hands going to the hem of your cami, eager to reveal the plump, delicious tits, constrained by the fabric. With a final pull over your head, your breasts bounced, hard nipples falling in place against his chest.
“Jesus Christ.” He huffed out, pausing momentarily to admire the sight in front of him. His lips moved from your mouth to your jaw, nipping and sucking at your skin down your neck towards your breasts.
His hands cupped the supple flesh, bringing it to his mouth as he sucked delicately on the hard nib. His eyes looked up at you past his long lashes as your head fell back in pleasure.
He moaned as your pulled on his hair. His hands, took a firm grip of your ass, raising his hips slightly, flipping you on your back with ease, you lay exposed across the couch. Leaping up to undo the zip of his jeans, shoes long discarded he stepped out of the worn denim. Your hands grabbed at the clothed, outline of his cock in his briefs, eager to taste the hunky man. Positioning yourself at the edge of the couch. Ari crouched his knees slightly, noting his height, eager to let you at your want.
Revealing his cock, your eyes widened at his size, bigger than anything you’ve ever seen and much bigger than Brian. You grabbed his base, kitty licking at the plump head, catching the loose drops of pre-cum that oozed from his red slit.
“Fuck Y/N, I knew you knew your way around a cock.” You smirked up at him as his hands pulled your hair into a ponytail, taking the hair tie from his wrist and securing it.
You placed the thick head in your mouth, pushing your spit onto his cock as you ran your lips up and past the head.
“You think you can take the whole thing baby?” He quipped at you.
Giving him a small nod, you opened your mouth wider, flattening your tongue on the underside of his cock as you slowly moved you head forward to let his cock push down your throat.
“Fuck baby! That’s it.” Ari’s hands clutched your ponytail tightly, edging his hips towards your head slowly.
You pulled out, looking up at him, with spit smothered around your lips “Don’t hold back Daddy.” Ari groaned roughly, head falling back at the sight of the beautiful woman on her knees in front of him calling him such a salacious name. It was all he needed to roughly fuck your throat, the sounds of your gags and wet, sloppy punctures filling the room.
He pulled your head back by your ponytail, you whined at the loss of his cock.
“You’re so good at it baby but I need that pussy.” He looked down on you with awe. You nodded, shuffling back onto the couch. Ari fell to his knees, head inches away from your pussy as he helped you pull your shorts down.
His mouth immediately went between your thighs, spitting on your exposed cunt before flattening his large tongue on your heat, leaving a long strip of warm, wetness from the skin above your ass to the tip of your clit. Sucking on the sensitive pearl as you mewled at the sensation. He moved downwards, nudging the tip of his tongue at your weeping hole as his beard brushed against your sensitive clit creating a sensation you have never experienced but was addictive. The bristles moving roughly against any inch of exposed skin.
“Ari please I need it!” You begged as you pushed his head closer to your core.
He stopped suddenly, pulling away to look up at your flushed face, sweat formed on your forehead. “What’d you call me?”
“Daddy, please fuck me.” You looked into his deep blue eyes, need in your voice.
“That’s better.” He smirked up at you, moving upwards to join you on the couch. You pulled him closer desperate to taste yourself on his lips. His movements slowed as he moved his hand to support your head pulling it back slightly to get deeper into the kiss.
Between the rushed, desperation appeared a moment of deep intimacy and want for the person in front of you. He grabbed his cock in his hand and slowly glided it through your wet folds, catching your deep moan as his length filled your tight, velvety interior.
Slowly, he moved in and out, eager not to go too far out and lose the sensation of finally being inside of you.
Letting out a deep groan as you ran your nails down his back, leaving long, red marks.
“Harder Daddy please… I need it.”
He looked at you, strands of sweaty hair sticking to his forehead, dipping his head down to give you a soft, wet kiss, pulling out, he grabbed your chin with his thumb and pointer, opening your mouth slightly as he spit roughly down your throat. You swallowed his spit greedily, flashing him an innocent smile which quickly faded as he pulled out to the edges of your entrance and thrusted roughly back in. You gasped at the sudden hit of his bulbous tip at your cervix. The repeated assault at your most sensitive core caused the coil inside you to tighten, your desperately grabbed at his large arms for stability, nails digging into his hard skin as your release rushed out of you and seeped down his length.
“That’s its baby let it out, fuck that makes me close.” His eyes darted between your two sexes, watching as the cream wrapped around his base like a decorative bow. His thrusts became sloppy as he chased his high, savouring the feeling of being inside of you amongst your juices.
He collapsed into the warm embrace of your chest, softly kissing the supple skin of your breast as you both breathed heavy post the best sex of your lives. As his now limp cock fell out of you along with the sticky, hot mix of your release.
Your eyes squinted at the sudden realisation of light pouring through your window, releasing it was now sunrise, tiredness took over you.
You shook the heavy man on you “Ari, it’s morning, do you want to come back to bed with me?”
“Don’t have to ask me twice.” He steadied himself by his arms on either side of your head as he rose. Holding out his hand to help your shaky figure up and into the bedroom. Arms forming a tight grip on your hips as you hobbled towards your bed.
You both collapsing, ready to enjoy a well-deserved sleep.