Chris Evans X Reader - Blog Posts

this was absolutely amazing omg i’m such a whore for this man

Poor Little You.

Summary: With Defending Jacob filming underway and Chris on set for most of the week, you’re left with little more than your imagination. One little video is sent, one that you cannot get out of your head and though you’d like to think of yourself in control, you’re anything but.  Words: 2614 Type: RPF. Chris Evans x (undescribed) reader Warnings: mentions of masturbation/edging, oral sex (f), light nipple play, dirty talk, demanding Chris, light asphyxiation, unprotected sex. 

Not me re-appearing and slinking away again out of shame… but, this was written for @andy–barber who encouraged me to post it here to give a little more content to the Chris fandom. Please be kind as it’s the first time I’m posting him here, but likes/reblogs/asks are welcomed to ease my nervous heart :) all of my girls are undescribed, though if something stands out making it otherwise, please let me know and I’ll amend this. 

A big, big thank you to my Lisey for being my BETA and giving this piece the much needed check over before posting. 

_

“You can’t just walk back in here like that and not expect me not to do anything,” you say, straddling Chris’s thighs as your hands wrap around his wrists, placing them on either side of his head. 

“Walk in like what?” he tries his wrists, giving them a little tug to see how much give you’re prepared to allow him. 

“With that swagger,” you lightly kiss him, “and that smirk,” another kiss, “wearing that aftershave you know I can’t resist on you,” a slightly deeper kiss this time, “That suit.” 

“I thought you wanted me home as soon as possible?” he asks, desperate to cup the back of your head and roll you onto your back, but he’s having fun watching you think that you’re in charge. You both know he can flip you over and be on top of you within seconds if he wants to but the anticipation of when he will do it only excites you further. 

“I got my wish it seems.”

“But at what cost?” 

Only your dignity, but he doesn’t need you to admit that. You both know it with the way you pounced on him the second he stepped through the door. He’d barely finished shrugging out of his outer coat when your fingers were touching his tie, seconds away from undoing it when he’d given you a look. He’d picked you up, hands securing you beneath your ass as he’d carried you to the bedroom. 

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I’m not crying you are……………..No I am crying! 😭😭😭😭

the boston brute series: pt. 13 - bye, princess (dual pov)

The Boston Brute Series: Part 13 - Bye, Princess (Dual POV)

Pairing: NHL!Chris Evans x Athletic Trainer!Reader (female character)

Summary: When you graduated from Northeastern University, you had your sights set on the West Coast. And then you were offered a position with the Boston Bruins Athletic Training Department. And then you met Chris. A 6′3″, ruggedly handsome hockey player dead set on making your life a living hell by pushing every button and getting on every nerve. Despite your obvious disdain for each other and the ‘No Fraternization’ clause in your employee contract, you’re drawn together in a passionate, fiery love affair that seems to burn everything in its wake.

Warnings: Crude language. Lots and lots of angst. Crying. Brief smut, but nothing like graphic. Parental death mentioned. Please do not read this series if you are not a fan of asshole Chris or fics with a lot of angst. As always, let me know if I missed anything!

W/C: 9.3k

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. All players and scenarios are made up completely. This story does not reflect things that actually happen in the NHL or with its players. Additionally, I talk about Chris’s family in this fic. Again, work of fiction and is no reflection of his parents or grandparents in real life.

likes, reblogs, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated! ❤

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*immediately following part 12*

Reader POV

“Y/N,” Chris called out to you gently, his voice slightly muffled by the hand pressed against his mouth, eyes filled with concern. The nausea you felt rolling through your stomach was clearly visible on your face. “Come sit.” 

You nodded, swallowing again. Water. You needed water. 

With shaky legs, you walked over and took a seat in the chair next to Chris. 

Fuck. They know. 

Terry sighed, shaking his head. “Who wants to go first?” He smacked a tabloid magazine down on the desk in front of you. 

You eyed the magazine, then glanced at Chris, his expression unreadable. “Sorry?” You asked, turning your attention back to a very red-faced and frustrated man. 

Terry pinched the bridge of his nose, sitting back in the chair. “I don’t have the patience for playing stupid.” 

“I can’t play stupid if I don’t know what this is in reference to.” You responded, clearing your throat when your voice had a little more edge than you’d intended. Now probably wasn’t the time to lash out. 

Chris jerked his chin towards the desk. “Look at the cover, Princess.” 

Your pulse raced as you tentatively leaned forward. 

What the fuck?

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the boston brute series: pt. 13 - bye, princess (sneak peek)

The Boston Brute Series: Pt. 13 - Bye, Princess (Sneak Peek)

Pairing: NHL!Chris Evans x Athletic Trainer!Reader (female character)

Summary: When you graduated from Northeastern University, you had your sights set on the West Coast. And then you were offered a position with the Boston Bruins Athletic Training Department. And then you met Chris. A 6′3″, ruggedly handsome hockey player dead set on making your life a living hell by pushing every button and getting on every nerve. Despite your obvious disdain for each other and the ‘No Fraternization’ clause in your employee contract, you’re drawn together in a passionate, fiery love affair that seems to burn everything in its wake.

A/N: I just finished pt 13, my brain is fried. that is all. this sneak peek and part are VERY angsty.

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. All players and scenarios are made up completely. This story does not reflect things that actually happen in the NHL or with its players. Additionally, I talk about Chris’s family in this fic. Again, work of fiction and is no reflection of his parents or grandparents in real life.

likes, reblogs, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated! ❤

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time-for-a-lullaby masterlist

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He sat on the edge of your bed, looking over at you as you cried. “Don’t do this.”

A sob burst through your mouth as you pulled your knees up to your chest. Why did he have to know you so well?

Chris turned to face you, worry lines etched into his forehead and you longed to run your thumb over them. “Don’t do this, Y/N.”

You shook your head, avoiding his eyes and staring at the comforter on your bed. “Maybe we were stupid to think it could ever work,” you whispered.

He scrubbed a hand over his beard, “You don’t mean that.”

“Chris… Maybe it’s just… Not in the cards.” Every word that came out of your mouth was like a knife to the heart.

He stood, pacing the floor by the foot of your bed. “You don’t mean that, Y/N.” He said again, his voice stern. Chris came over, kneeling by your bed, his blue eyes glossy with tears. “Look at me.”

You shook your head, your eyes filling with tears. “Chris…”

“Look at me, Y/N.”

After taking a deep breath, you turned your head slightly, finally meeting his gaze.

“If that’s what you want, I’ll go. If it’s what you want, I’ll walk away right now. You look me dead in the eyes right now and tell me you don’t love me and you don’t want to make it work, I’ll leave. But you have to look me in the eyes and tell me this, Y/N.”

DUN DUN DUN……..Cliffhanger!

the boston brute series: pt. 12 - welcome to sudbury (dual pov)

The Boston Brute Series: Part 12 - Welcome To Sudbury (Dual POV)

Pairing: NHL!Chris Evans x Athletic Trainer!Reader (female character)

Summary: When you graduated from Northeastern University, you had your sights set on the West Coast. And then you were offered a position with the Boston Bruins Athletic Training Department. And then you met Chris. A 6′3″, ruggedly handsome hockey player dead set on making your life a living hell by pushing every button and getting on every nerve. Despite your obvious disdain for each other and the ‘No Fraternization’ clause in your employee contract, you’re drawn together in a passionate, fiery love affair that seems to burn everything in its wake.

Warnings: Crude language. Chris’s asshole father mentioned, parental abuse mentioned. There’s a police officer in this fic, too lol. Idk if that’s a trigger, but just to be safe. Lots of fluff and soft Chris. Please do not read this series if you are not a fan of asshole Chris or fics with a lot of angst. As always, let me know if I missed anything!

W/C: 9.3k

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. All players and scenarios are made up completely. This story does not reflect things that actually happen in the NHL or with its players. Additionally, I talk about Chris’s family in this fic. Again, work of fiction and is no reflection of his parents or grandparents in real life.

likes, reblogs, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated! ❤

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time-for-a-lullaby masterlist

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Chris POV

Chris’s grip on the steering wheel tightened every time he drove past a mile marker, signaling you guys were one mile closer to Sudbury. His knuckles were way past the point of turning white and his fingers started to ache from the hold he had. 

He’d kept the itinerary to himself for almost the entire drive, finally passing it over when you’d asked what the plans were and for some reason, he was more worried about your reaction to a meticulously planned out Christmas than facing his family. 

His stomach turned when your eyes widened. 

“There’s an itinerary?” You asked, looking over at him with raised eyebrows. If he wasn’t so fucking nervous about how this weekend was going to go, he might’ve given himself a second to appreciate just how much he loved the way your feelings were so easily displayed through your expressions. 

Christmas had always been a big deal to Lisa and he’d mentioned it in passing a few times, but Chris failed to inform you just how seriously she took it. Itinerary and all. 

Your eyes narrowed at Chris. “Did you wait until we got on the road to tell me so I wouldn’t back out?” 

His eyes flickered from you to the road nervously, trying to gauge your reaction. Busted. He should’ve known better. “No…” He lied, his voice unconvincing, even to himself. 

“Christopher!” You scoffed, shaking your head. “I can’t believe you.” 

He could tell by your tone that you were teasing and not actually upset with him, but he still felt bad. You told him you didn’t celebrate Christmas and that this would be the first time you’d spent any sort of holiday around a family and here he was basically throwing you to the wolves. 

Chris reached over and squeezed your thigh gently. “It’ll be fun, I promise.” He peeked over at you, smiling at the fake grin you had on your face. You were trying so hard not to show him just how worried you were because you also knew how worried he was about being around his family. 

Which was stupid. 

It’s his family. 

He can spend a few days with his family. No big deal. 

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What do you think about exhibition kink ? And who do you think would have it, Buck or Steve?

👀

Pairing: Personal trainer/beefy Steve x reader

Warnings: Smut, Minors DNI, Steve is 6'4, praise kink, exhibition kink, degradation kink

A/N: As always do not copy, translate, rewrite or repost my works.

Co-owner of the infamous gym, the Brooklyn 107th and part-time boxer Steve has a huge exhibitionism kink.

A few weeks ago, he had the windows of his gym covered with a transparent plastic film that allows for his customers to work out without being seen by people on the street.

At least that's what he told everyone.

Really it's because he loves to fuck you in front of the ceiling to floor glass windows during your personal sessions.

He adored your body the second you stepped into his gym, asking if he could help you get in shape. He never offered personal training sessions until you.

And you were the only one who received his very special attention.

Your training sessions started off tame but the more he touched you, the more he craved you.

Soon your one-on-one sessions began to happen later and later because he wanted to spend time alone with you.

You made him nearly feral every time you worked out together. He couldn't stop thinking about all the filthy things he wanted to do to you.

The first time you softly grunted, the sound nearly sent him over the edge. He spent the entire hour hiding how hard he was.

Steve waited until you were in the parking lot before locking the doors, barely able to control himself before he reached the showers. His hand wrapped around his aching cock as he thought about how soft you felt as he helped you squat.

At night he dreamed about those sexy little grunts you made when you boxed or lifted weights, only in his mind you were making them because of him.

Steve tried to maintain his professionalism until one day he was in the middle of stretching your legs and he saw the wet spot forming on the crotch of your leggings.

His heart raced at the thought of you being as affected as he was.

You couldn't even feel embarrassed because he stared at it, at you with such lust you almost came right there on the yoga mat.

His eyes drifted up to your face and he bit his bottom lip as he gazed at you. Then his lips curled into a wide smirk. "Y'know I really should stretch all of you sweetheart."

Your hands slip, the pristine glass smudged by your sweat.

“God, please Steve, fuck fuck fuck fuck, I can’t.” The glass fogs up from your harsh, frantic pants, the condensation growing with each sob ripped from your throat. “Pleaseplease Steve.”

Steve growls in your ear, the feral sound making you whimper in response, another please falling from your lip.

“You can take it, you’re okay, take it, sweetheart.” Steve grits his teeth, his damp blonde hair plastered to his forehead. He’s never been in such a tight wet pussy, you have to take it because he can’t get enough of you.

You lean forward, pushing your forearms flat on the window, and pull yourself up on your tiptoes. No, you can’t, you can’t take anymore. It’s too good and fuuuck you can’t, you just need-Taking in a deep breath, you cry out in relief when your swollen cunt slides to the tip of his throbbing cock.

Your head lolls back and your pussy clenches down when you see his dark blue eyes glaring at you. Oh please, Steve. You thought you couldn’t get any wetter until you had 6’4 of pure tatted muscles behind you, his deep voice ringing in your ear “you better not run again sweetheart, take this cock like a big girl before I fuck you stupid.“

His wrapped hands grab your waist, his scarred, calloused fingertips dig into the soft dips of your hips, and he drops you back on his cock.

Pleasure bursts through your body so hard and fast, your legs collapse, your hands sliding down the window as you keen. Steve laughs when you wail his name, the thin high cries with each thrust making his cock even harder. One large, thick arm wraps around your waist and he pushes your body into the glass.

Steve’s hip snaps into yours over and over, the salacious sound echoing through the nearly empty gym. He slams his hand on the glass and grabs your chin with the other. Your dazed eyes rake over the busy street. The thin pane of glass is the only thing separating your naked body from the lunchtime rush of people outside.

“Look at them,” he pants in your ear, “wonder if they know what a cockdrunk little slut you are for me. My sweet little slut, so fucking good for me. “

Steve knows you love it when he talks to you like this, making you take every thick inch and praising you for doing so good. Your greedy pussy clamping down on him tighter and tighter with each filthy praise.

He slides his fingers down to your clit and rubs your aching bundle of nerves so softly, a sharp contrast to the way he’s pounding into your cunt.

“Want me to open one of the windows and let them see how good you are, taking my cock like the good fucking girl you are. You want that, sweetheart?”

You feel his deep laughter on your skin when you moan in response, too far gone to form coherent words. You’ll let him fuck you in the middle of the ring before his next match if he keeps doing that. More broken pleases, for him to stop, go deeper, just please Steve. Fuck you, don’t know what you want, only that it’s too much and you want more.

“That’s it, sweetheart, that’s how you take my cock, so fucking proud of you sweetheart, now let’s-“ Steve places his hand on your back and forces you into an arch and he hits a patch just inside your pussy and you see stars.

The windows rattle when you slap your hands on them, you don’t notice the people turning their heads in your direction, too overwhelmed by the sweltering heat blazing through your belly, the knot fraying and unraveling as you sob.

His name a chant on your tongue as you come hard, so hard it nearly hurts.

“Good girl,” he praises, groaning when your walls flutter around him. “That’s my girl.”

You slump against the cool glass as Steve continues to fuck you, his hips slapping into yours two, three more times before warmth coats your spasming walls. He kisses along the back of your neck, murmuring more praises as he pulls your trembling body from the window.

“Good warm-up sweetheart.” He nips your shoulder, his hands sliding around your belly. “Now it’s time for your cardio.”

༻ 𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐀 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝

𝗣𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 | Tarzan!Steve Rogers x doctor!reader

𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 | 6’6” Steve, feral behaviour/feral!steve, nomad!steve, fluff, scientist!reader, gentle giant!steve, soft!steve, size difference, SMUT - minors DNI, size kink, manhandling, unprotected sex, creampie, sort of animal-like behaviour, mentions of dead parents, specific warnings in each part.

𝗦𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 | S.H.I.E.L.D. had a lot of secrets, you just never expected one of them to be an actual person—a blue-eyed giant, wild manbeast at that.

♫ ·ﾟ𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐀 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝 𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝗧𝗼𝘁𝗮𝗹 𝗪/𝗖 | 23.9K + 7.1K in blurbs

𝗔/𝗡 | well hello everyone! This is based on my short drabble about Tarzan!Steve, but changed a bit for storyline purposes. In this verse, Sam has always been Captain America and best friends with Bucky. Also, since I felt weird with consent from Steve’s side, there won’t be smut until part 2 where he’ll fully understand what sex is. BUT, there will be an alternative dark!Steve version that’s sort of just pure filth because why not. No gifs/photos belong to me, found bottom ones on Pinterest [1 | 2] all credits go to the original creators. [*=smut] ☼ 𝐃𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐊𝐨-𝐟𝐢 ☼

Feel free to send blurb requests or asks about this series! ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 𝐉𝐎𝐈𝐍 𝐌𝐘 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓!

For blurbs and the alternative dark version since this story is completed: 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: 𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐍 — ​˖◛⁺⑅♡ 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐒: 𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐍

˗ˏˋ𝐌𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭ˎˊ˗ ⋰˚ 𝐂.𝐄. & 𝐂𝐨. 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 — 𝐀𝐎𝟑

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒: (3/3)

(1/3)

(2/3)*

(3/3)*

Alternative DARK version*

What A World Drabble Masterpost: 1 - 2

Role Reversal: 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐝 𝐄𝐲𝐞 [feral!reader]

𝐁𝐋𝐔𝐑𝐁𝐒/𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒:

bubbles

a lil about steve

marking*

typical jungle boy behaviour*

little hand

baby fever?

his mind, body, and soul*

9 kink drabbles* (see more drabbles in the gallery👇)

steve and his adventures with food: 1 — 2 — 3 — 4

steve wants a pet: 1 — 2

letters from steve

winter wonderland

𝐆𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐑𝐘: tags

𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐬: #what a world drabble

Discussions/Drabbles: thots — fluff — dark — dark!reader — angst

All asks — Theories — Art — Ideas — Videos/TikToks — ??

Specific tag drabbles: sex toys* — periods — sex tape*

Tarzan!Steve aka WaW!Steve — Dad!Tarzan!Steve

Spicy Videos

Setting: Jungle

Happy Sinday 😌

Pairing: Biker!Steve x Reader

Warnings: Oral (m receiving), smut, no minors.

A/N: Late sinday drabble.

It’s your hands that he notices first. Soft and warm on his hair-covered thighs. Always so soft. It’s how he knows it’s you. Nothing soft has touched his skin in years. Until you. Those warm, soft palms glide up his legs, over his stomach. He shifts into your touch, ridged curved muscles pushing into your fingertips.

“Please,” the word thick and rough in his throat drifts on his tongue, passing his lips in a coarse whisper. His mind, dull from sleep, barely registers your low hum in response.

Your lips trace over the faint freckles peppered along his sun-kissed skin, creating a map of him that only you’ll ever use. Your guide. A personalized key to unlocking his every weakness. The one right below his ear that makes him shudder when you sink your teeth into it. The one below his collarbone, near his colorful tattoo, makes him grit his teeth, hissing out a warning you’ll gleefully ignore.

But this one.

The one on his lower belly next to the thin vein leading down to his cock.

This one is your favorite.

You trace the pad of your finger around it, following the vein down down down his skin, watching his cock, heavy and long and thick, get bigger and bigger before your eyes. Resting your cheek on his thigh, you wrap your hand around his base, fuck he’s so thick your fingers and thumb aren’t even close to touching each other.

He makes a guttural sound in his throat. Long eyelashes fanning across his face, lips parting.

Please

Your hand stills, eyes flickering up to his face. He’s pulled under again, unable to resist the strong drag of exhaustion lingering in his bones. You want to ease his tired body, make him feel good, and you can’t resist the gravelly request escaping his mouth.

You stroke him, your hand moving up his firm, smooth length, your thumb brushing over the vein leading to his tip. You bring your hand down, pumping him firmly, squeezing him before going back up.

Once.

Please

Twice.

Please

Letting your thumb sweep over his swollen head, his hips jerk. You spread that little drop of precum over him, listening to his breath quicken, sleep-addled words falling unbidden from his mouth, nearly indiscernible.

Please

Taking mercy on him, you move until you’re hovering over him, placing a kiss on his leaking tip, you open your mouth, his taste melting on your tongue as you swallow him.

While your touch is enough to drive him to the brink of awareness, it’s your mouth, hot and wet, that pushes him over. You hollow your cheeks, slowly slowly dragging him out of your mouth. Bright blue eyes snap open, his lips part on a breathy faint moan, large hands grip the sheets. You meet his dazed gaze and draw him back, his thick cock heavy and warm, his vein brushing along your tongue. Pleasure like he never felt spikes through him, scorching heat spreading up his spine. He never knew he could feel so good, so incredible. Darkening stormy blue eyes flutter shut, plump lips go slack and his hands, his large calloused hands, find the back of your head, resting gently, letting you find your pace.

“Fuck yes. Just like that Dove. Please, sweetheart.” He makes another noise in his throat, deep satisfaction and need and lust rolling into one breathy plea. “Don’t stop. You’re doing so good. So fucking good for me.”

It could almost be vulgar, the way you’re taking every inch, every incredibly thick inch into your little mouth, the wet sounds you’re making, the soft gag when you take him deeper and deeper.

But it’s not.

It’s so damn erotic that he has to look away, too afraid of losing control, wanting to keep your tongue on him. He’s not that strong, not when it comes to you, the need to see you pulls his eyes back to your face, and oh fuck he can feel the sultry white-hot pleasure cresting higher, cracking away at his resolve.

He needs one more minute.

One more minute.

Fuckfuckfuck you’re so sweet and pretty, lips stretched around his cock, throat bulging, your little hand softly twisting around the part of him you can’t take down your throat.

Sweat beads along his hairline, thighs trembling, hold on for one more minute, he needs to feel you more than he needs to cum.

One more minute of pure heaven. Please

He’s so greedy for you. Fuck one more-

Steve can’t think. Barely getting enough air into his lungs. Because your eyes flit up to his and you moan.

“Dove you’re so good, so damn perfect,” he groans through gritted teeth, veins in his neck distended, his fingers dig into your scalp as he comes undone. “Shit oh fuck, fuuuck.”

He comes, hard and fast, spilling into your mouth. And he almost comes again, watching you swallow every last drop. Steve reaches for you, a feral grin tipping his lips. “Now it’s my turn--“

Beep. Beep. Beep.

The harsh grating alarm cuts through the air. Steve reluctantly opens his eyes, waiting for the ceiling to come into focus, rays of sunlight peeking through the cracks of his curtains.

“Fuck me,” he spits out, glaring at his stiff erection tenting the sheets slung around his thighs, the remnants of his dream clinging to him.

It felt so real. You felt real.

He could have sworn you were in bed with him. Dragging his hand down his face, he makes a frustrated noise before turning off his alarm. Steve sits up, swinging his long legs over the side of the bed, he drops his head down. He can’t take another wet dream like this. He’s going to ask you out.

Today.

You have had every piece of him wrapped around your little finger for weeks now. Now it’s time for you to know that you belong to him just as much as he belongs to you, little dove.

*****

And his next dream is about him returning the favor 🥴🥴🥴. Steve can't wait to make his dream a reality. But are you ready?

For more Steve/Dove content, click the link!

I Dream Of A Love That Even Time Will Be Still For

Keep my company while I write/work! Send in:

Main Masterlist-Mafia & Biker AUs Neighborly Behavior The only gift he wants The Morning After And then there were none It all belongs to yo

We have been blessed by the most AMAZING human being as our Sexiest Man Alive for 2022!!! These pictures!!!!! 🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

Nick Vaughan X Reader Series

Take Me Home | Part 1: Meet Cute

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.

Miss you💟

I miss you too 🥹

…And writing but I’m going on a 2 week vacation (like a real one with sun and pina coladas) so I’ll get to clear my head and maybe when I’m back I’ll feel good enough to write again (which is the plan)

Sorry babies, it hasn’t been just Chris being a ho a lot of other personal stuff came up with work etc and your girl is BURNT OUT.

But I still ❤️ you all

Part 2 of bubba? Would love to see more of protective!chris 🥺

Bubba Part 2: Bump

A/N: Everyone grasp your loins i'm back... lol and a funny update after being bullied by my roommates they found this account and followed it to "keep tabs" so everyone say heyyy to my inner circle who I recommend sleep with one eye open 🥰

"Stay beside me yeah?" Chris held you tightly, staring at you intently as he helped you out of the car.

"I can barely walk, you don't have to worry about me pulling a runner." Chris gave a small smile at your light hearted joke.

At this stage, you were 6 months pregnant and HUGE. The last thing Chris wanted to do is shove you in front of a thousand cameras and screaming crowds but you insisted you two go. You desperately wanted to get out of the house and do yourself up after living in sweatpants.

Chris couldn't deny despite the heartburn, oily hair, night sweats and cankles you were glowing and looked absolutely stunning tonight to the point he had to hold himself back from giving you another baby.

"We can go home at anytime." He rubbed the small of your back lightly, fidgeting with the top layer of your dress.

You two approached the interview platform, Chris easing you gently yet forcing your whole body weight on him as he helped up the short 2 inch step.

You smiled at him endearingly as you approached the report. He wasn’t necessarily a bad reporter he just was a bit too enthusiastic for you and Chris’s liking not to mention a little invasive both figuratively and physically.

Chris knowing this placed himself between you and the reporter, hand encasing yours between you two.

“And here we have Chris, Y/N and the bump..” He outstretched his hand, verging towards your bump but not before the ever alert Chris, pushed his hand away promptly

“Absolutely not.” Chris said sternly, eyeing the report with challenging eyes.

He laughed nervously, moving his hands back into his pockets.

“Well do you guys know the gender yet?”

“We do!” You both said proudly, at the same time.

“Well how about giving us a W News exclusive huh?”

“Yeah no we plan to keep that information between us and our family for the time being.”

“Oh come on is Captain America having a strong boy or beautiful girl… let it out.”

Chris was getting annoyed at this point, so you gave his forearm a soft squeeze.

“I don’t care if it’s a boy or a girl and either can be beautiful and strong at the same time. I’m just grateful for a so far healthy baby and wife. Thanks for your questions.”

You smiled up at him as he led you off the platform, reaching his limit on stupid questions.

Moving off the platform you let out a groan of pain. Chris’s eyes shot to your face concern written all over his;

“What’s wrong? You hurt?”

“No no.” You waved him “My feet are killing me.”

“I did tell you not to wear them.” You glared at his hindsight for now was not the time to play the “I told you so” game.

“It’s called an OUTFIT Christopher.” You spat at him through gritted teeth.

“Sorry sorry… here take ‘em off.” He crouched down, pulling up his slacks slightly to get on one knee.

“I can’t just do that in public!”

“You’re pregnant, you can get away with anything.” He brushed you off.

Chris lifted up the skirt of your dress, slowly easing your foot out of the shoes.

You sighed with relief as he gave your feet a quick massage in his large hands.

“Better right?”

“So much better. Thank you.” You gave him a quick peck on the lips.

Holding the heels in his hands, you walked the rest of the event barefoot and in way less pain.

Headcanon ideas

.Super curious Chris about pregnancy that is sooo cute and annoying for his pregnant wife

.Chris start to cheer his gf up.how?with stupid cheesy pick up lines

Headcanon: Better Half

Loooveeeeee this!

"Why da face?" Chris walked in your shared bedroom, oreos in hand with one half way in his mouth.

You rolled over dramatically, pulling the covers under your chin

"Just that work thing, I have to work with that lazy, mother-."

"Carol." He said flatly

"Yes! Carol! It's always Carol."

He plumped in the spot next to you.

"Hey honey..." He cooed.

"What." You sat up, moving next to him.

Twisting the oreo in his hand, he moved the frosted side in your direction.

"You're my better half." He said, showing a goofy grin.

You paused, staring at him with a flat expression, the corner of your lip creasing slightly, you couldn’t hold back the all out laughter.

"You're the cringiest person i have ever met." You gasped through laughs.

"Yeah but it worked to make my girl smile didn't it"

You grabbed the cookie half from him, shoving the whole thing in your mouth.

Miss you

🥺

Hi. Sorry for asking this again. When do you post Nick Vaughan series?

Haven’t posted it yet and its cause I haven’t even started! I’ve been so busy and exhausted and I’m going on holiday soon so it’s a lot going on. I’m sorry!! I’m working on it 💕🍀

Me getting the ick again and putting all my fic reqs back in the folder.

Sorry but like… nah I can’t talk right now.

Shame as well since some of those photos had fic potential to bad him saying baby makes my skin crawl.

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

Sexist Girl Alive (Curvy!Reader)

A.N/WARNING: Screenshots are obvi fake, TW for fatphobia, slurs, people being mean ☹️ but happy ending, photos arent mine (mwah pinterest)

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.”

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?

I just got SO MANY requests! But I love getting them so yes please send me all the ideas 🥰 just know they make take a little while but you’ll always get it!

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!! 💕☘️

Smut

Chris still have His costum from Captain america. What does that mean? Rollplay with chris.

Mint Condition

WARNINGS: SMUT MINORS DNI. 8k filth, roleplay, dirty talk, sex, P in v, edging.

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.

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

Pork or Pasta?

Disclaimer: All characters, mentioned and referred to even those based on real people are entirely fictional. All characters and events are entirely works of fiction for the purpose on entertainment. I make no comment on those mentioned within the request or story. (Can't sue me now baby I'm a law school drop out 😘 )

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.  

Can you do a Imagine where gets jealous because the Reader have a Big crush on Ransom(His character)

Eat Shit Ransom

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?

Chris Evans | NSFW 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.

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! 🥰

Nick Vaughan X Reader Series

Take Me Home | Part 1: Meet Cute

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:

Third Times A Charm: A Chris Evans X Reader Series

Can you write about ransom being interested of fucking his shy wife, reader's big ass.

Good Bunny

A/N: You said being and not actually doing it so I went off that. Sorry if thats not what you meant at all lol.

Warnings: Mentions of anal, anal sex, rimming - I feel this is obvious. Also first Ransom fic! Yay!

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

Neighbours

A/N: I'm baaaaccckkkkk and as always I have something to say ☺️ I am in love with Ari Levinson. Great request but I have to ponder... If reader is “happily married” then why would she cheat? I feel like her being married adds absolutely nothing to the plot, so we are gonna change it to obsessed ex because like… mi no comprehend how happy = cheating. Also, I feel cheating can be triggering for some.

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.

I’m just a girl, staring at my laptop… thinking about maybe… MAYBE… finishing the requests that I started 🤨

Watch this space girlies…. momma is back. 😎

Per the drama as I grieve the man I thought he was and wake the fuck up to reality… fic writing is postponed for a week or so.

I am tired girlies! And I cant write genuinely when I have the ick about a grown ass man hanging around Miss Teen Portugal and her fatphobic, racist overall musty looking sidekicks.

My thoughts? He needs to get it the fuck together hope momma Lisa slaps him across his smug ass looking face so he wakes the fuck up. At this stage, his chances with me have dropped to 58% and pending - I’m too hot and smart. 💅🏼

Xo

Clover 🍀💕

I’d just like to formally apologise to the Chris Evans fan fiction writer community…

I’m sorry y’all ain’t got nothing better to do then to come for little old me telling me to “leave” the platform over a read more feature. You’re reaching harder then Steve for that helicopter I can’t- 😭😭😭