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boxofbonesfic · 7 months ago

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Title: 𝙳𝚘𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚕𝚐ä𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛 [6]

Pairing: Dark!Ransom x Reader, Lloyd Hansen x Reader

Summary: Your husband’s twin brother has always made you uncomfortable, and after two years of marriage, you finally find out why.

Warnings: Obsessive Behavior, Possessive Behavior, Stalking, Kidnapping, Basement-wife, Gaslighting, Manipulation, Breeding kink, Smut, Darkfic, Dead Dove: Do not eat!

Word Count: 3,776

A/N: whew. okay. we’re back, we’re updating, and we’re getting back on track. i think the motivation behind the madness is becoming a little clearer. or at least, more clear. i hope you all enjoy, and as always, comments and especially reblogs are always appreciated. ❤️ divider by @firefly-graphics

It’s your wedding day, again.

You remember the soft white satin of your dress like it was yesterday—only it’s today, isn’t it? How can something happen again if it hasn’t happened yet? You look down at your hands, where the lacy sleeves of your wedding dress loop gracefully around your thumbs—your nails are picked raw and bleeding. You look back up at the mirror, and your own distraught face stares back at you.

I don’t want to get married.

No, that isn’t right—this is a good day, a happy day, why don’t you want it anymore? There is knowledge that dances just out of touch as you stare fuzzily at the mirror in your bridal suite. Something is wrong, but you don’t remember what it is. The mirror fragments, each component folding away as the world tilts on it’s axis, wood flooring becoming red carpet strewn with rose petals.

You stand at the altar, the priest beaming at you.

You will take him won’t you? As husband, husband and wife—Ransom splits in two like a cell, and both of them hold your hands so tight the bones creak and hurt and—

“I love you, Princess, Sweetheart, Darling, Mine—” One voice, two mouths, one person, two bodies. You don’t realize they’re pulling until you tear, splitting right down the middle like you’re made of tissue paper. too. Pulling you to bloody pieces as they repeat oaths of husbandly devotion.

My wife.

MY WIFE.

You wake up in darkness, your heart pounding in your chest. It disorients you, and you blink, expecting the cloud to clear from your eyes but it doesn’t. Immediately your hand goes to your stomach, and your frantic heartbeat calms just a fraction as you rest a hand on the gentle swell. The thoughts in your head are still an anxious jumble. Ransom, Lloyd, the party—

God, the party.

Your stomach churns as you recall Lloyd’s cruel smile.

Tell him. Tell me what he says.

You clap a hand to your mouth as an anguished sob threatens to escape. Ransom, Lloyd… where had they taken you? You frantically feel your way to the edge of the bed, your feet slipping a little on the cool tile as you stand.

“H-hello?” You call out into the darkness, but there’s no response. Trembling, you begin taking short, halting steps forward, your hands outstretched. “P-please, someone—fuck!” You curse loudly as your foot catches the edge of something, a table, a chair, you can’t tell. “Answer me!”

No one does.

You wander forward blindly until you reach a wall, and, feeling along it, you feel plaster turn to glass. You gasp, frantically dragging your hands along the surface until feel something—a switch. You flick it up, and there’s a sound like whirring gears. The lights don’t come on, but something else happens instead: the blackout shades on the other side of the thick pane of glass begin to lift, light creeping in underneath the edge. It’s blinding at first, spots dancing in your eyes as you throw a hand up to shield them, but after a moment, they adjust.

You see… a beach.

An empty beach.

The clear blue water comes straight up to the window like an aquarium. There are no people on the pristine, white sand—no one to hear you as you frantically beat your palm against the glass. Frantically, you turn around to take stock of the room, grabbing for a nearby chair. You knock over the little coffee table in the sitting area next to you, but you don’t care. It takes all your strength to heft it above your head, screaming as you slam it into the glass—

But nothing happens. It connects with a dull thud, the treated wood splintering as it cracks. The window is unharmed, barely even scratched. An anguished wail tears from your chest as you throw everything within reach that you can lift, beating everything into splinters until you’re left panting and sobbing in the wreckage.

“Sweetheart you know that really isn’t good for the baby.” You whirl around frantically, grabbing for the leg of a chair you’d broken into kindling against the indestructible-fucking-window, brandishing it threateningly. You hadn’t even heard the sound of a door opening—in fact, as you stare, wide-eyed around the room, trying to pin down his point of entry, you can’t seem to find a door at all in the lavishly decorated suite.

“Fuck you!” You snarl at him, your lip curling. “Let—let me out of here!” Ransom clucks his tongue at you like you’re an errant child.

“You’re a smart girl, Love. You know I’m not going to do that.”

“You can’t fucking keep me in here—” Ransom shakes his head.

“I can, Sweetheart. And I’m going to. We’re going to.” He casts a disparaging look down at the ruined chairs and table by your feet. “Lloyd did tell me not to put the good stuff in first—I underestimated your temper.” The casual remark makes you want to swing your makeshift bat at his head. “He designed it for you, you know. I thought we could just lock you in the basement, but now that I see it, I think this is better.”

“You’re a monster.” You’re crying, hard, hysterical sobs that leave your throat raw and aching. He actually has the gall to look hurt by your insult, his face crumpling as his mouth presses into a thin, angry line.

“A monster that loves you. That would do anything to protect you—even from yourself.” Your body seizes with fear as he crosses the room in a few easy strides, gripping your shoulders with furious hands. You whine as he squeezes, pressing harder and harder until you drop the scrap of wood you’re holding. You don’t know this Ransom, this maniacal, cruel man wearing your husband’s face, your husband’s ring.

“Do you remember what it was like when we got together?” He asks. Ransom shakes you a little, like he’s trying to jog your memory. “Living at home with your parents, helping them with every single bill because you were terrified your sister was going to graduate high-school on the streets—”

“So what?” You spit back. “What the fuck does that have to do with anything?”

“I gave you everything.” For the first time you see the same possessive madness in his eyes you’d seen in Lloyd’s. “And you think you can just walk away? Take from me until you’ve gotten your fill? That’s not how this works, Sweetheart.” He releases you and you stumble away, clutching yourself. He straightens his shirt, smoothing back the errant hairs that have fallen into his face.

“We’re going to give you such a good life, Sweetheart. You just have to trust us.”

“I will never trust you again.” You growl the words at him like a threat. “I hate you.” And then, inexplicably, he’s your Ransom again, his blue eyes soft as he looks at you, like he knows something you haven’t yet come to accept. Like an adult admonishing a child for fears they’ll soon leave behind as they grow to accept the way things are—the way they always will be.

“You won’t always.” His eyes flick down to the destruction you’ve wrought, and he clucks his tongue. “Maybe I’ll talk to Lloyd about bringing in some new furniture for you, if you’re good.” Ransom’s handsome mouth curves up into an amused smile. “Maybe something a little heavier.” He kicks at a piece of the table, before making his way back over to the other side of the room. A door the same color as the wall opens at his touch.

“Lunch in an hour.”

—

True to his word Ransom returns with Lloyd in tow, a tray held in his large hands. You’d waited for this moment with a dark sort of anticipation, and for a brief moment, their stunned, angry expressions as the door panel slides open fill you with a sense of profound pride.

You’d done your level best to destroy everything that wasn’t nailed down, methodically and systematically taking apart everything you could get your hand on. Even the mattress lies ruined, feathers and wood splinters littering the torn cover. Though the mirror had refused to break—and indeed proved too heavy for you to lift—you feel a smug satisfaction in seeing what you had been able to accomplish with jagged pieces of plywood.

Fuck you.

Lloyd steps in first, squatting down to inspect a piece of the smashed coffee table.

“I told you we shouldn’t have put this stuff in here first. Empty room, Ransom. You always have to start with an empty room.” His eyes flick up to yours, and he smiles softly—affectionately. “Hi, Princess.”

“Go to hell, Lloyd.” Ransom steps fully into your room then, shutting the door gently behind him before setting the tray on the windowsill. He sighs.

“I know it was stupid to hope your attitude had improved in an hour, but stranger things have happened.” He glances back at the tray. “You should eat something, Love. It’s been four days of—” His words become a static drone as the panic begins to set in. Four days? I’ve been out for four days? The questions fill your head almost faster than you can process them. Where are you? Your parents, your sister? What happened?

“What is this? What is this fucking place?”

The pride in Ransom’s eyes makes you want to vomit. “We made it for you. Just for you. It took—how long, Lloyd?”

“A year, give or take.” He rubs his fingers along the growing stubble on his upper lip. “And then finding staff…” He pauses. “The hotel, or just the Room?” The way Lloyd says room makes it sound singular, important. You cannot help but gape at them

“You’re sick—both of you. Y-you—what you did to me—” You shake your head. “A-all of this.” You gesture at the room around you. “For what?” Lloyd threads his fingers together, and you can hear the soft metal click of his rings tapping against each other as he does.

“I know you’re not deaf, Princess. It’s for you.”

Cold trickles down your spine. You’ve been doing it ever since you woke up, running through each moment in the past four, five and cataloguing each one you couldn’t make make sense. You’re doing it again now, thumbing back through the index cards of your memories and finding empty slots. Thanksgivings, Christmases, Easters—Ransom had told you it had been a year, but you can’t trust that, you can’t believe him, not after everything.

“My family won’t let you do this sick fucking shit, you know that.” You spit. “They’re not going to let you kidnap me—”

“How much is Nathalie’s school, Sweetheart?” Ransom asks, cocking his head. “Per year.”

“What?” The question throws you off, the freight train of words in your throat piling up messily on your tongue. “What are you—”

“How much is her tuition?” He repeats it slowly like you’re having trouble understanding him. You bare your teeth at Ransom as you grimace.

“I don’t know. She has a scholarship. What the fuck does that have to do with anything?”

“It’s $63,000.” Ransom gives you the figure so matter-of-factly it’s like he rehearsed it. “Per year.” Your stomach sinks, like your body knows before your head. “What, you didn’t know? No one ever reads the paperwork, do they, Lloyd?” He glances at his brother over his shoulder. “What’s it say on the checks? T. H. B. Inc., doesn’t it?” He licks his lips. “The T stands for Thrombey, Sweetheart.”

You almost want to laugh for the insanity of it all—you even try, but no sound escapes your tight, dry throat. Lloyd nods.

“Same as the ones your father gets. Funny how his company’s picked up these last few years, isn’t it?”

Your fists clench and unclench as you sit there on the floor, staring up at them. There’s nothing left to destroy, nothing left to break except the two of them—and you already know how that ends. Instead, you’re forced to sit there, hot rage coiling in your chest as the realization dawns cold and cutting—

Your family is already bought and paid for, even if they don’t know it.

“I never asked you for this.” You spit, nails biting into the meat of your palms as you press angry fists against the cool tile. “I didn’t ask you for fucking any of this!”

“I promised to make a home for you, didn’t I, Sweetheart?” He squats down in front of you, his hand out like he wants you to take it. “A good husband provides.” It isn’t supposed to feel like being cut into a thousand pieces to hear his wedding vows regurgitated like this. His gaze drops to the ring still on your finger. You hadn’t noticed it until he did, and as he watches, you rip it from your finger with a violent twist, and throw it at him. He actually looks upset at this, a hint of his earlier rage passing over his features like a cloud.

You hate the way it makes your gut wrench because you want him to fucking hurt. It’s like your body hasn’t realized yet just who he is—who they are, and it makes you even angrier. You turn away, loose nightgown bunching under your thighs as you turn to face the wall instead.

“Leave me alone.”

“Not until you eat something.” You aren’t sure if it’s Ransom that speaks, or Lloyd. You press your eyes shut and bite your lips to shutter the angry, frustrated wail that threatens to leap from your throat. “That’s not good for the baby.”

Good for the baby.

Good for the fucking baby.

You want to hate it now; the child growing inside of you, even if only to spite the men standing behind you. But you cannot bring yourself to—and you hate that too.

Shame is not a new feeling, not for you, but it feels new today as you pick apart the plain chicken salad sandwich they had brought for you. Assume it’s drugged. You hate yourself as you tear off chunks with stiff fingers, forcing your mouth open and swallowing it down with a grimace. Assume everything is drugged. When you’re finished, you drag the back of your hand across your mouth roughly, tossing the tray at Lloyd’s feet.

He doesn’t pick it up.

“Good girl.” You shiver. It’s involuntary, and you know he sees it, the way his mouth twitches with the urge to lift into the smug smile you know so well. “Your wish is our command, Princess.”

Ransom bends to pick up the ring wordlessly, and follows his brother out of your room.

—

They don’t come back that night.

You watch the sky outside the glass wall of your prison turn dark, and then brighten again with stars as you sit huddled against it, hugging your knees to your chest. You’re exhausted, but you can’t sleep. Your body won’t let you, jerking you back to wakefulness as soon as your eyelids start to droop. The thoughts won’t stop coming either, cycling through on a loop you can’t seem to stop.

I wonder what Nat’s doing.

I wonder if they’re worried about me.

I wonder what Ransom told them.

You want to pinpoint the time your life went off the rails but you can’t, you don’t know it. College, perhaps?

When you’d met Ransom? Lloyd?

You drag yourself away from the window after a few hours of staring bleakly out at the empty beach. It feels like too much to hope for that someone would happen by, not with the lengths they had clearly taken to secure you. The comforter bleeds feathers as you drag it to the floor beside the bed, wedging yourself between it and the wall. You know you aren’t safe—you’ve little control over that—but the solid press of concrete behind you makes you feel more secure.

It’s what allows you to finally fall asleep, though it is not restful. It feels like you wake every few minutes at every imagined sound, jolting back to consciousness and scanning the still empty room before quickly passing out again. You half expect Lloyd and Ransom to be back, waiting for you to open your eyes but when you finally do, you are still blessedly alone, but for the fresh tray in front of the door.

You wait for a few minutes, just to see if they emerge from your peripheral vision, the places in the room you can’t see from your vantage point—but they don’t. Everything is as it was before, the destruction from your earlier rampage still strewn across the floor. It feels surreal. Slowly, you pick your way across the debris and grasp the tray in your trembling hands. You don’t want to eat it, not really, but your stomach clenches and rumbles at the sight of food as you peek beneath the tray cover.

It isn’t anything special—another sandwich, a bag of chips, and a bottle of water. You check beneath the styrofoam plate just to be sure, there’s no note, no nothing, and you cannot help but wonder when they’ll be back. They’re messing with your head, you know they are—and you hate that it’s working. You’re rattled, upset, anxious—just how they want you.

The urge comes again to pick up the largest piece of anything you can find and smash it against the window until it breaks.

We made it for you.

Your stomach churns with disgust even as you take a greedy bite out of your sandwich. How hadn’t you seen yourself and your family waltzing right into the palms of their hands? How hadn’t you noticed? Lloyd had always been overly interested, overly gracious, even after you’d rejected him, and started dating his brother. You’re reminded of Linda’s curt smile and her slickly delivered barb. You tore them apart without even thinking about it. And Lloyd’s admission…

It was more than a little crush.

You don’t know how to reconcile the madness simmering behind your husbands eyes with the man who’d held your hands and said his vows. As he’d griped your wrists, staring into your eyes with his own fever-bright, you could barely recognize him.

You clean your plate, washing it down with the water before casting another look around the room. It’s blank, empty beyond the few pieces of furniture you hadn’t been able to destroy. No books, no television—nothing. You search the walls near the door panel, looking for something, anything that might make it open, but you find little. The smooth white keyboard does not respond when you push your thumb against the rubbery buttons, and the seam is so narrow you can barely wedge your fingernails into it to try and pry it open.

For hours you walk the perimeter of the room, running your hands along the walls, feeling no breaks in the smooth, cool surface. You have to get out of here—but you don’t even know where here is. How far you are from the resort, if you’re even on the same island. As the room darkens, you realize you’ve been pacing for hours like a caged animal, and neither Ransom nor Lloyd has come to check on you all day. Somehow, the thought fill you with apprehension. Not knowing when they might appear is unnerving, and you suspect they mean it to be.

You thread your fingers through your hair, tugging on it as you watch the sun sink into the sea, a panicked, claustrophobic feeling rising in your chest until you realize you aren’t breathing. You can’t stay here like this, you can’t—

Before you realize it you’re running for the door, beating your fists wildly against the panel.

“Let me out! Let me the fuck out of here!” Your frenzied wailing rings in your own ears. It’s like you’re numb to the pain as you swing with all your might. You’re aware-even if only dimly—of the fact that your fists will be sore and aching later, bruised and beat to a pulp but you don’t care. Not if it gets you out—not if it gets you away from them.

“Ransom! Ransom let me out! You can’t fucking keep me here! You can’t!”

Nothing happens. The door doesn’t budge, and there is no answer to your increasingly panicked demands. You scream for hours. Until you’re hoarse, and your trembling fists ache to raise above your shoulders. Still, you bang your open palms against the panel as your firm insistence becomes a stream of nonsense pleas.

“Please, please don’t do this, if you l-loved me y-you wouldn’t do this!” Tears and snot run down your face as you collapse to your knees, exhausted. “Please.” You mumble, curling in on yourself in front of the door. The tears come again, and you don’t even try to stop them, sobbing open-mouthed on the cold tile, your hands fisting in your nightgown.

“Please.”

You lay there until the room goes dark.

—

“I hate seeing her like this.” The cameras are good—too good. He can see the pain on your face too clearly, hear the betrayal in your voice just a bit too well through the speakers.

“You think I like it?” Lloyd asks irritatedly, and Ransom sighs. “She’ll even out soon. If not, you can up the mood stabilizer. She’s cleared for it until the second trimester.” Ransom knows his brother, knows that’s his version of comforting reassurance. “Besides, you’re the one that decided to play keep-away.”

Ransom looks at the camera again, at your softly moving shoulders. He’s both thankful and irritated at the hair covering your pretty face—but at least it blocks the sight of your tears. As he watches, you shudder—like you’re still crying, even in your sleep.

“I know. We have to make her grateful. For us.” He says, still looking at the screen. And he does. He understands the necessity of it—it was his plan, almost more than Lloyd’s. “I still hate it.”

“I don’t anticipate she’ll keep it up more than a week. Two, tops.” For the most part, Ransom has seldom ever found himself envious of his twin, but now he felt his lip curl with irritated jealousy at Lloyd’s confidence. “Don’t worry little brother,” he grins. “Our Princess will love us again.” He turns back to the cameras. “I’m sure of it.”

To be continued…

next chapter

Thank you for reading! Please check out my masterlist for other, similar works, and follow my library blog, @box-of-bones-library for updates. ❤️

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loverslodge · 25 days ago

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our secret

summery: you and steve have a secret and it's about time you let everyone in on it

pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

warning: smut, fluff, slight angst, swearing, bad writing?

A/N: i love a cuddly steve. also, this is in the same universe as 'very discreet' but it can be read as standalone.

“Hi Captain. You didn't get your New Year’s kiss. You won't mind if I give you one, now would you?” A drunken woman stumbled upon him, puckering her lips.

Steve moved away and sighed. He did tell Bucky and Doll to come clean but now he thinks he should have done the same. Tony had invited single women purposely to get two super soldiers laid but not everyone knew the truth. While Bucky planned on revealing today, Steve was taking his sweet time.

Steve’s hand goes on the chain around his neck where hung his own wedding band. He twirled it around his finger and slipped it back in his shirt. He was going to be here to support Bucky and Doll and then return home. He missed you. As plain as that. So did Doll and Bucky.

After the party, Steve got on his bike and drove back to his home. He loved calling it home because it's where you were. He opened the front door to see all lights were off except the bedroom. He smiled. You were asleep. He knew that. He knew how sleepy his sweetheart was.

He moved around the room quietly and quickly. You stirred and sighed but didn't open your eyes. You were a light sleeper. Even the slightest of noise would wake you up. Not that Steve wasn't stealthy, you were just too aware of the surroundings. Steve once joked that you would make a fantastic stakeout agent. You had waved it off but you were very close to considering it.

Steve slid in the bed and sighed. “I'm sorry for waking you up, sweetheart. I tried to be very quiet.” He kissed your neck and pulled you against his chest.

“Not your fault. I keep telling you. Now please let's sleep?” Your groggy and whiny voice got him to pull closer than ever and bury his face in your neck. You sighed and went back to sleep, finally feeling safe in his arms.

……………………..

You were running from shelf to shelf, rearranging the books that some college kids had messed up. You were so close to hitting them with the thickest encyclopedia but sorting to violence was the day you were keen on having.

At the end of the hall, you saw a shadow but you thought it must be a customer in need of privacy. You went back to arranging. Just as you reached the almost secluded corner of the bookstore, a hand reached for your waist and pulled you against the broad, thick chest. Your gasp almost turned to a scream till you saw you grabbed you.

“Steve! You asshole! I could've alarmed people! Are you crazy?” You hit Steve on the chest with your fist and he laughs.

“I am crazy in love with you, yes. And seeing that I am Captain America, I'm sure people would have deemed you the safest in the world.” You wanted to wipe that smug grin off his face with a kiss. But you held off. You wanted to pretend to be mad at him. So you decided that it was time to tease.

“Yeah but who's saving Captain America from me?” You pull him closer by the collar of his henley and brush your lips against his. Just as he dips to catch your lips with his, you pull away and make some distance between the two of you. You turned around and started working again.

Steve was shocked. You do tease sometimes but you never completely backed off before. You would always come back to kiss. Steve felt ignited by this. He loved that you teased and moved away. Because now he had a chance to get back to you.

You and Steve did have a little playful relationship. It was innocent of course. He could never be this way with anybody. You had opened him up to a new way of loving. He thought there was a partnership but it always had a hierarchy. But you taught him that it was more of a companionship, a friendship with so many additional perks. So many of the playful interactions led you both to where you are now.

As soon as you put the last book from your hand back on the shelf, Steve pulled you to a shadowed, secluded corner of the store. He pushed you against the wall. Your eyes went wide seeing his blue eyes turn dark. He had a playful smirk on his face but you knew that you weren't going to get out of this one with a simple ‘i love you’ kiss.

“You have learnt new ways to tease me. Let's see who saves you from Captain America.”

Steve crashes his lips against yours and pulls you into his chest. Your hands that were held by Steve against the wall are free and so you snake them around his neck, pulling him closer. Wetness pools on your underwear as Steve decides to take charge of your body. He holds your thighs and you jump to wrap your legs around his waist.

He trails his kisses down your neck and chest, marking your skin as his. You trail kisses down his neck and do the same, gaining a silent moan. You are grinding against him, making him growl. “You never let me tease you, sweetheart, do you?”

A breathy chuckle leaves your mouth. “Not when you take me in your strong, muscular arms.” You pull him in for another kiss while he undoes his jeans and boxer to pull himself out.

His one arm holds your waist and the other moves your panties to the side. He lines himself up to your lips and strokes himself against your wet petals.

“Steve please. Just take me.” You moan softly, trying to keep your whine quiet.

“Oh I will take you, sweetheart. I know youre all mine to take.” He plunges himself in you without warning making you moan loudly which was muffled by his shoulder.

He doesn't give you time to adjust this time and keeps on thrusting in and out. He was harder, faster. Just how you like it. He could always tell when he needed to go harder on you and this was one of those times.

He let you muffle your moans, whines and gasps on his shoulder as he took you against the wall. You left an array of kisses on his neck and sucked a few more areas to leave more marks. He had opened your shirt just enough to bring out your nipples. He sucked on them, making your pleasure increase more.

“Steve, I'm cumming please.”

“Cum for me, sweetheart. I've got you. Come on. Cum with me.” He increased his pace and his thrusts got sloppier. You brought your hand down to your clit and rubbed it to simulate you harder. With one last thrust, you both gushed over each other. While his thrust slowed down, he did not stop. You whined.

“Steve. What are you doing?” You tried to get down but he did not relent. You groaned and arched your back against the wall as you felt the pressure start to build up again.

“I'm not done with you yet, sweetheart. You left me alone in bed this morning. This is for that.” He picked up his pace again.

You arch your back and hold on to the wall as he pushes into you again and again. Your moan accidentally slips out and you hold your hand against your mouth. Steve pulls you back to his chest and puts his lips on yours as he reaches his end as well.

With breathy grunts and moans, you both come back from a high with you ruining his jeans with a squirt and him ruining your pussy. You both stay in that position for a while till your panting seizes.

“Steve, I swear to god if you let me go and I fall, I will beat the shit out of you in front of everyone.” He lets you down and your feet wobble. He holds on to your waist tightly as you try to regain the footing. He chuckles.

“I will never let you go, sweetheart. I don't want you to go and fall for others. I only want you to fall for me.” He leans down and pecks your lips.

You swat his chest playfully and he chuckles again. “You're such a dork.”

“I love you too, sweetheart.”

………………….

Bucky and Doll were at the door when Steve opened it. He let them in and greeted Doll with a hug and Bucky with a back slap. You walked out of the kitchen and ran to hug her. Bucky envelops you both in a hug and kisses your forehead. Steve takes the wine bottle from Doll’s hand and puts it on the dining table.

“I see our husbands had the same idea this evening.” You point at Doll’s neck and she turns into a blushing mess. Doll also points at most of your marks that were showing around your neck and you laugh your blush off.

“I'm not eating in the kitchen then. I don't want Steve all over my food.” Bucky chuckles and earns a hit on the head by Steve who sees you putting your head in the freezer to hide yourself.

“Well, I cannot exactly help myself when my wife is baking. She’s all kinds of adorable.” Steve stares at you as you are working the kitchen and the dining area with Doll.

“So, punk, how are you explaining your absence from the compound? Since you still haven't told them.” Bucky takes a sip from the beer that Steve had brought out for the two of them.

“Nobody really notices me gone. I have maintained my elusiveness.” Steve bragged with a smirk.

You call them both to the dinner table and all four of you sit and enjoy the dinner. The conversation flows from joking to serious to joking and the shared experiences between two super soldiers.

“We don't need to be here, doll. I swear it's like the two of us are the third and the fourth wheel when it's the two of you.” You point at Bucky and Steve, who laugh along with Doll.

After finishing up washing the dishes, the two super soldiers join you and Doll in the living room. Bucky sits on the sofa with his arms around Doll’s shoulder and Steve pulls you on his lap.

“Woah! You still have guests over Steve, you can't do this in front of my innocent Doll.” Bucky points and you swat in the air, pretending to hit him. Steve’s laughter vibrates through your body, sending tingles all over.

“I'm not innocent Bucky.” Doll, very quietly says and you laugh even louder.

Steve loved seeing you like this. Laughing with the only family he has. You have been getting along so beautifully with his brother and his sister-in-law, he couldn't help but be even more in love with you. He always thought that you would cast him and Bucky out when he had first met you. But you have always surprised him. You embraced Bucky and welcomed him in without a second thought because you trusted Steve.

“On a serious note, don't you think it's time you tell everyone on the compound about the two of you?” Bucky puts his beer down and looks at Steve.

Steve gulped. He knew Bucky would bring it up now that his secret was out. But he did not expect him to do that in front of you. Alone, he could convince Bucky but in front of you, he thought you would take the hiding in a wrong way. Before he could say anything, your reply shocked him.

“Bucky, I trust Steve. If he wants it to be a secret then let it be. Honestly, I do understand where he's coming from. If he tells them about me then he’ll have to share me and I'm definitely sure I'm not ready to be shared.” You leaned in to kiss Steve’s cheek.

“I get it. Trust me, sweetheart, before I told them about me and Doll, I was skeptical too but as you know, it all ended well.” Bucky brings Doll closer to him.

“Bucky, the difference here is I don't live on the compound. Your secret got out because you couldn't take the relentless push for you to date. That's not the case with Steve. He has been discreet before all this happened.” You took a sip from your wine glass.

“Ok. I won't go on. But just be careful. I willingly told people and I don't want the nosy ones walking up to your doorstep to discover that he has a completely separate life, away from them.” Bucky relents.

“They might be nosy but they're still family, Steve. They have been with you through everything.” Doll takes the final sip from her wine glass and sets it down. “I know you want to stay in this bubble longer but Steve, just picture yourself in their shoes. Wouldn't you be hurt to know if one of them had a secret this big?”

“Woah, doll. That's the most I've heard you speak and that's coming from me.” Bucky kisses her forehead and you all chuckle.

Bidding them goodbye, you and Steve finally get ready for bed. You know Steve is thinking hard on what Bucky and Doll said. He talked to you about Bucky’s situation before you persuaded him to talk to the two of them to reveal their marriage. Now, here you were, not following the same advice.

Once you and Steve were settled in the bed, you turned to him. “Steve, you know there is no pressure, right?”

He sighed. He had been thinking about this for a really long time but every time he entered the apartment and saw you, he would go back in the bubble, not wanting to burst it.

“I know, sweetheart. But Doll is right. I would be hurt too. They didn't make a big deal out of Bucky being married because they expect that from him. Me, my life has always been an open book to them. My secret will hurt them more.”

“It's okay, Steve. We will make a new bubble. And as far as I know, Natasha will help us keep our bubble.” Steve smiled at you.

He pulls you in his arms and deeply kisses you. You moan against his lips. He pulls you on top of him and you lean against his chest, snuggling into his neck. He tightens his hold on you.

“Let's stay like this tonight, sweetheart. I will be bursting the bubble tomorrow.”

……………………..

“So, what's up with the meeting, Cap. Do we have a mission we don't know about? Did I fall asleep again?” Sam swivels in the chair.

“Do you always dream about being in a meeting, Birdbrain?” Bucky sits next to Steve and drags Doll’s chair closer to his.

“Tell your husband to shut up, Doll. I will attack him with Redwing.” Sam looks at Doll who just rolls her eyes and looks at Nat who smirks.

Tony saunters in the room, last as usual and Steve sits up straight. “Finally! Now we can start discussing why the hell is Cap so wound up after lunch.”

“I'm not wound up.” Steve shuffles.

“Of course you're not. Because you have regular sex.” Tony quips sarcastically and everyone in the room laughs. Bucky laughs exceptionally loud and Doll hits him on his thigh to keep him quiet.

Suddenly, the meeting room opens up and you stumble in with your hands full of boxes. Everyone goes quiet and Steve rushes to your side to help you with the boxes. You smile sweetly at Steve but refrain from kissing him in front of everyone.

“What’s with the boxes, sweetheart?” Steve pulls out the boxes from the bags.

“Well, I wanted to make a good first impression and I've heard Mr. Stark eats donuts so I assume cupcakes and donuts would be a good idea.” You smoothen your dress and Steve offers his seat for you to sit down, while he stands. He puts his hand on your shoulder and you look around sheepishly.

“Don't tell us you are married too, Cap.” Sam laughs and others join in, except you, Steve, Bucky and Doll.

The laughter dies down with a sudden pause and Steve looks around in embarrassment.

“What the hell, Steve! I thought we were your family!” Tony bounces off the chair and points accusing finger at him.

“I was going to tell you all-” Steve begins but is cut off by Natasha. “Tell us when? After you popped a baby or two? How long have you been married?”

“It's been a while.” You politely interject.

“What do you mean by a while?” Sam looks at you and everyone is waiting for you to answer.

“Well, we, uh, got married six months before the fallout so…”

“Is this why you have been cutting back from the missions?” Natasha asked and Steve nodded.

The entire room was thrown into chaos. Everyone was yelling and accusing. Steve shrunk against the wall. You had never seen him so devastated before. You rise from the chair and pull him to sit on it. He sighs and rubs his face. You pull his face against your stomach and stroke his hair to calm down.

“That is enough! So what if he didn't tell you? Can he not have a private life? Does he have to share everything?” Your anger rose. They were hurting your husband and you were not going to stand for it. “He is tired. He deserves a peaceful life and I'll be damned if anyone accuses my husband for choosing himself. Do not make this into a huge deal. If any of you were in this situation you would have done the same.”

You look around the quiet room. You look at Doll and Bucky who give you a small smile of support that makes you want to continue. You are still holding Steve and stroking his hair as he tries to hide his tears. You can feel the wetness of his tears through your shirt and your grip tightens on him.

“I understand that all of you are hurt by this. This is a huge secret he kept but he did it for himself. When has he ever done anything for himself? I'm proud of having all of you as my husband’s family but I implore you to understand the reason why. Think of it from Steve’s perspective and not yours.”

Steve has calmed down and little but still refuses to meet anyone’s eye. You settle on Steve’s lap and he pulls you closer, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. He inhales your scent deeply and you feel his body relax against yours. You wanted to coo at him and tell him everything is fine. Hell! You wanted to kiss him all over and make him feel better but now was neither a good time or place.

Steve, while hiding his face, couldn't exactly keep it under control. You always had a calming effect on him but nipping at your neck made him feel better even more. He angled his face and started leaving open kisses on your neck and sucked at a few areas. He tightened his grip around your waist to pull you closer. You held on to his hand and shoulder, concentrating on everyone’s face in the room. You were pretty sure Steve was leaving marks all over.

“We're sorry for lashing out.” Natasha was the first one to speak. “It's just, with the history we all have with Steve, we thought he would tell us if something major did ever happen with him. I'm glad you understand how shit the situation is.”

“For what it's worth, I didn't know about any of you till after a year of fallout. He went under hiding in our then shared apartment with Bucky and Doll in tow. He wanted me to meet you all but the circumstances never felt right. I'm sorry. I should've pushed him into opening up to all of you.” You profusely apologize and everyone’s eyes soften at you.

“Looks like Cap finally found someone who can handle him. Look how snuggled up he is. I guess he finally found the person who will defend him.” Tony pointed at Steve with a smile, who was still attacking your neck, hiding behind the curtain of your hair.

Bucky, who was sitting right next to you, lightly punched Steve on the shoulder to make him look up. Steve stirs and kisses your cheek before looking up at everyone. It looked like everyone was conversing with their eyes and Steve slumped back in the chair with a relaxing smile on his face.

“I'm sorry for not telling you all sooner.” Steve finally voiced his apology.

“It's okay. Your wife apologized in a much better way than you. We forgive you. Just, don't ever try to hide life altering decisions like this again.” Sam nods and takes a cupcake.

Everyone jumps on and grabs a cupcake or donut and chatters away the rest of the day, trying to get to know you better. Steve still hadn't let you get up from his lap and you were more than comfortable to ask him to. You finally saw a more relaxed Steve and your smile widened seeing him in his playful and teasing element.

There was no denying the fact that you married the love of your life and you will always defend him, even if you have to go against the world.

............................

open for request

#fanfiction #fluff #angst #smut #marvel fandom #fanfic #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers #loverslodge #captain america #chris evans #chris x reader #chris evans imagine #cevans #captain america civil war #chris evans characters #cevans fandom

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caplanbuckybarnes · 24 days ago

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Take a Chance of Me (Skinny!Steve Rogers)

Summary: Steve visits the Metropolitan Museum of Art on 5th Ave. in NYC and meets you there. Skinny!Steve AU

WC: 550

Warnings: preserum steve, fluff

A/N: i'm locating all of old fics on here. i'm located a TON of them already. *Most* of them are already on ao3 or you to enjoy.

Read on Ao3!

Being as he was, Steve always felt out of place. He never held a girl’s attention like his best friend, Bucky. He never had a first kiss, a first date, nothing. He was always stuck at home with his mother to care for him. Of course, Bucky was always hanging about or dragging him places– which Steve never minded. He held Bucky to high standards because, for once, Steve had someone to hang with, someone who didn’t treat him like he was so fragile. Someone who saw Steve for who he was.

Steve had met Bucky a few years ago. He was maybe thirteen or fourteen. Who really remembered? He was fighting a bully in an alleyway next to an ice cream shop. Well, the bully was fighting, and Steve was groaning and hacking up a lung, trying to defend the poor cat that the bully had been torturing.

Bucky had heard the grunts and trash cans being knocked over and of course, he was drawn to the noise. He’d watched for only a second before he had sighed and rolled up the sleeves of his shirt, preparing to lay one on this bigger guy. Bucky had taken a few steps into the alley and clocked his fist right into the man’s skull, causing him to stumble forward and lose his balance. “Come on, punk.” He called, beckoning over to the little blonde man, who had a bloody and what looked to be a broken nose. He’d taken the shorter man back to his home, where Bucky’s mother had helped him heal. Steve stayed at Bucky’s house every day after school for the rest of the month.

So now, it was years later. Bucky had gone off to fight in a war America had no business fighting in. Steve had walked around, finally making a stop at the Metropolitan Museum of Art, where he studied the paintings and sculptures to pass the time. He thought about everything in his mind. He thought about how he’d wanted to become a professional painter. He thought about his friendship with Bucky. He thought about his mother and how grateful he was that she was with him.

Steve thought about many things as he strolled through the rooms, looking at everything around him. He’d been so busy looking he hadn’t noticed you were just as preoccupied looking as well. He’d bumped into you, knocking you both onto the ground.

You let out a surprised cry as your butt had collided with the marble flooring, knocking the brochure out of your hand.

“I’m-I’m sorry,” Steve mumbled as he scurried to his feet and helped you to your own.

“It’s okay!” you nearly giggle at the redness on his face.

“Are you hurt?” he asked you, voice timid and unsure.

You shook your head, grinning at the small, handsome blond man. “No, of course not. It was hardly a fall.”

He nodded, running a hand through his short locks of hair. “Um-”

You only shrugged before gently intertwining your arms together, making Steve stutter even more. “Would you like to take a tour with me?”

“Yes.” He blinked, not knowing what else to say, thinking about how proud Bucky would be of him had he been standing next to him. “Of course, I would.”

“Great!”

Please give this a reblog if you enjoyed <3

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eccentricallygothic · 9 months ago

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I am not saying I want Steve Rogers to bend me over his desk and whip my ass to get me to do/finish my homework but that's exactly what I am saying.

#or any cevans daddy #or grizzly ass bucky #please i need the motivation #god #i hate math and i hate homework and i hate study #omg but andy would fit in the scene so well too #i need my ass beaten honestly or i am never gonna study properly #kai rambles #chris evans #chris evans characters #chris evans character fanfiction #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers smut #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #chris evans character x reader #steve rogers x smut #steve rodgers x reader

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haleyboook · 11 months ago

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Christmas cheer

When a relationship not known by Chris’ family is suddenly front and center when he insists on her coming to his family Christmas festivities. Just how insane can she expect it to be? And how bad will it effect her relationship?

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

“I just need my bathing suit and I’ll have all my clothes ready to be packed.” I tell him as I hold the laundry basket in my arms

He nods as he remains half out of it staring at me

“Chris?”

“Mmhm?”

“What’s on your mind?”

He sighs as he sits up saying “I’m not liking the idea of not being together on Christmas. The best holiday.”

I drop the laundry basket and walk over to him, I sit on the armrest of the chair as he pulls me towards him

His lips press to my shoulder as he says “The Bahamas are so lame right now. Change your flight. Let’s go there for New Years. Boston is so beautiful right now.”

Sighing I say “My whole family is there, and they would love to meet you. You know that. I talk about you all the time and my mom already loves you. Why don’t you come with me? And then we can celebrate New Years with your family?”

Slowly he considers giving in as my eyes practically melt him and my lips press to his as I smile widely

The corners of his lips curve upwards in response to me and he groans saying “My mom and sisters would kill me if I missed Christmas. My nieces and nephews are expecting me there.”

Nodding I sigh saying “So basically we can’t spend the holiday together. And we’re back to square one.”

He smiles to me and says “Yeah. I guess so.”

But that look on his face for a split second was awfully mischievous and I know he’s up to something.

He pushes my hair out of my face and kisses my collarbones as we draw closer to each other

“It’s snowing in Boston. Have you ever been to Boston when it’s snowing?”

“No. I haven’t.”

“Winter is my second favorite season there. A white Christmas is my favorite. And my family goes all nine yards.”

“Oh really? What do they do?”

He smiles and says “Well my whole big family pile into my childhood home and we spend the whole week together. My mom has us baking and cooking all week and we go see a Christmas play on Christmas Eve. And we have a Christmas Eve party after. And Christmas Day is the best, seeing my niece and nephews excitement over the gifts is the best. My mom makes us spiked hot chocolate and we have this massive dinner. It’s literally heaven.”

The pause sits for awhile as I think on my family, my parents have my sisters and all their friends in the Bahamas with them currently

I paid for the vacation, called it an early Christmas gift.

But… Boston doesn’t sound too bad

“If.. I can change my flight, I’m in.”

His eyes widen suddenly as he looks to me surprised saying “You’re serious?”

I scoff saying “Was that not a real offer?”

“No! No it was real. I’ll.. I’ll call my mom telling her you’re coming along.”

I nod and stare at the laundry across the room. I sigh saying “im not going to need that bathing suit am I?”

He laughs whole heartedly and I grumble saying “You owe me time at the beach. I need ocean and sun time.”

“Promise. New Years with your family in the Bahamas. We can stay a week longer than your family. Just us.”

I sigh into him as I grow relaxed, nodding saying “That sounds perfect. Just what I need after the shit-show movie I just wrapped.”

“He was a terrible director.”

“He made me pull my hair out. I need to strictly rely on Greta and Sofia for work. They’re the only tolerable directors I’ve worked with. Besides obviously the marvel projects.”

He nods saying “Making everyone work on a holiday is crazy.”

“Well you saw how well that worked out for him.”

Chris laughs saying “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a movie crew so happy that an actress went full diva for them.”

“They all deserved to be with their families, regardless if they celebrated the holiday or not.”

“Trust me, I know they were thankful.”

I sigh saying “Yeah…. Now tell me what I need to pack for Boston.”

“You need to start with at least 3-4 coats or jackets.”

I make a winced face and say “You’re kidding.”

“That doesn’t include winter coats. Do you have a winter—”

He pauses as he looks to me as I produce a pinched expression and shrug saying “I don’t own anything like that.”

“We’ve got a lot of work to do then.”

The flight was simple enough, I overpacked and had to check my bag. Chris didn’t have to, he had a small enough bag for it to be a carry on

I realized how big of a mistake it was to check my bag the minute I started looking through the carousels for my suitcase

Only to my surprise it never came around. Chris felt terrible as the flight attendant informed me that my suitcase, along with half the passengers were left to fly out on the next plane

I blinked in response to her, feeling anger rise within me “what do you mean you left my suitcase?”

“It will be delivered here in a few hours. We can ship it to the address you—”

“I just want my things! Why couldn’t you fit my suitcase on the plane?”

“There are certain rules and regulations we need to follow, the flight was sold out and we couldn’t exceed a certain weight—”

“Everything I need is in my suitcase! It’s 25 degrees out! I need my things!”

Chris wraps his arm around me attempting to calm me down saying “Honey… honey it’s alright. We’ll figure it out.”

I scoff saying “Don’t give me that. You carried your suitcase on. You have everything you could possibly need. I have nothing. My scripts were in there. I needed to run those lines.”

He sighs and attempts to comfort me as he looks to the lady saying “How soon will it be shipped?”

“The second it’s in our custody. You should get it by tomorrow.”

“That’s not so bad, you’ll have all your things by tomorrow. In the meantime we’ll figure something out.”

The Bahamas are sounding a lot better now

“Yeah. Okay..” I say unconvinced and on edge

Chris had called his mom a day ago telling her he was bringing his girlfriend and she was surprised to find out so late in advance

Pretty frustrated this is one of the few times she’d even heard about me.

But before I wasn’t even his girlfriend, we were just going on a few dates. He thought it was easier to just say that to his mother instead

We were both so busy, there was no time to share with anyone else but each other

And we used every single minute we could find with the other

He’d fly to me and leave in the morning. Or I’d fly in at 9am and have to leave at 12am.

He knows he should have mentioned his girlfriend earlier, to not only his mother but probably his sisters and practically anyone else in his family

I ask as he drives our rental car towards the house “Scott’s there already?”

He’s the one person I really knew from his family, considering how often he visited

“Yeah. He just got to the house this morning.”

I swallow hard saying “And your mom, Lisa knows I’m coming to Christmas?”

“She knows, relax y/n. There’s nothing to worry about. My mom will love you and we’ll have a great time.”

“So your older is Carly, and Shanna is your younger sister. Then there’s your dad and he’s a dentist. And then there’s miles and—”

“Clearly you’ve done your research.”

I sigh as I run my hands down my face saying “I wouldn’t even need to. You love your family, you talk about them constantly. I can’t believe this is the first time I’ve met them. I could probably recite their birthdays at this point… oh my god. Don’t let me say that to them. I’m losing my mind. I’m so nervous, were you this nervous to meet my mom?”

He laughs as I scramble my sentences together quickly, talking way too fast

“Your mother gave me no warning, I met her in my boxers while I was getting the paper. I had no time to be nervous.”

I smile and look to him saying “She thought you were handsome immediately.”

He shakes his head saying with a chuckle “No, her first comment was asking why I was so pale.”

Laughing I shake my head saying “I can’t believe she said that.”

“She wasn’t wrong.”

He livens up my mood just switching the topic, I feel better already. He squeezes my hand saying “Just don’t overthink this and you’ll do great. Promise.”

And that’s when we turned down a street where I saw a suburban neighborhood, it was different than I was used to

There was an inflatable Santa on the large patch of grass in the front yard and lights thrown up onto the gutters, brightly colored

The driveway was full and it made me uneasy. Chris put the car in park and once he turned off the engine he looked to me “you ready to go in?”

“The gifts were in my suitcase, Chris. I have nothing for them—”

“You have your bright smile. That’s enough, we can go shopping in the morning or wait for your suitcase. All that matters is the gifts under the tree by Christmas.”

A sigh releases my lips as I look to the sprawl of inflatables across the front yard that I hadn’t noticed earlier

Some that are so clearly Boston suburbia that it’s odd to me

“Oh. That’s Jim. Moms had that inflatable for decades. It’s older than all the grandkids combined.”

“What is… it supposed to be?”

“It used to be an 8foot tall snowman, one of the first to be released. But it’s face wore off so is kids drew a new one on with sharpie and… yeah that was the result.”

Scott slowly sneaks around the car, and slams his palms into the glass of my car door

I scream as I jerk my head towards him and heave heavy breaths as my screaming stops

Chris laughs loudly and boisterous as I nearly kick the door open. It hitting Scott as I climb out, pushing his shoulder as his laugher only annoys me

“You’re an asshole!”

He and Chris just think my reaction is the funniest thing possible

“Did you hit your head when you jumped that high?”

He tumbles to the ground as he falls in the snow and practically cries with laughter

I huff in annoyance saying “Why would you do that?”

“He didn’t tell you?” Scott struggles to say as he gasps for air as his laughter slows

I look to Scott saying “We have a whole competition going, scaring each other. We do this basically every time everyone’s home.”

Chris smiles as he says “She has an out, it’s her first Christmas with us. She is free of the jump scares.”

“No way! She needs to experience the evans family Christmas in every way.”

Chris gives Scott a look and I walk away saying “I’m freezing. Can we please go inside.”

Scott nods saying “that sounds like a great idea.”

Chris nods as he lifts his suitcase through the snow and pulls his jacket off as he drapes it over my shoulders

I look to him thankfully as I tighten it around me. I slow to a stop as I wait for one of the two brothers to lead the way

Chris steps in front of me as he says “You okay?”

“Yeah. Just cold—” but I’m cut off by Scott running towards us and throwing a snowball into the back of Chris’ head

Scott laughs as I feel the corners of my smile turning upwards quickly as I laugh quietly as Chris huffs out a breath of annoyance

“oh… little brother you so shouldn’t have started this.”

“Chris.” I plead as his hand digs into the snow

“Just let me reach this little punk a lesson.”

And they’re already at it with each other. I stand there as Chris creates a snow ball throwing it towards his brother as Scott ducks out of the shot

My sisters and I were never like this. They were 12-15 years older than me. By the time I was 5-6 years old they were out of the house or in college. I was basically an only child with occasional visits from my sisters

But Bree moved to England for a job and Elise lives across the US. Hawaii, with her husband. Her husband is stationed in the navy there

I wince as both Scott and Chris tumble roughly into the snow but I smile because it’s hilarious

“They do this often.”

My shoulders jump at the voice, I thought I was alone out here

I look to the woman and say “And I’m sure it’s entertaining every time.” My smile shines towards her and she breathes out a laugh saying “Yeah. Most of the time. I’m Shanna. You must be y/n, his girlfriend. Right?”

Nodding I say “yes, that is me. I’m sorry to intrude on your Christmas, he insisted I have a Boston Christmas.”

“You don’t have family around here?”

I pause and say “They’re in the Bahamas for Christmas.”

“And you picked this over that?” She laughs as I shake my head saying “I couldn’t leave him. We try to spend any second we can together. I’m sorry, are you Carly or Shanna? Chris talks about his sisters so much but I can’t place your name.”

She smiles saying “Shanna. His younger sister.”

“Oh okay. Thank you.

She nods saying “How’d the two of you meet?”

“Work. Of course. There’s not really anywhere else I could’ve meet someone.”

“You’re an actor too?”

I nod and say “Yeah.”

“Are you cold? We could go in while they sort this whole thing out?”

I look towards Chris as he has Scott pinned down with knee pressed against his back.

Scott’s face doesn’t leave the patch of snow as Chris tells him to tap out

I look to their sister saying “Is this normal?”

Shanna smiles saying “Yes. When they’re around each other they get like this. They’re brothers that’s for sure haha.”

I bite at my lip saying “I really am freezing. We could go in.. I’m just anxious.”

“Why don’t you head in while I get these idiots into the house?”

She steps away before I can argue the offer

I swallow hard and walk towards the house, I so don’t want to go in alone

Scott is pulled up from the snow and pushes his brother as he looks to me as Chris brushes off the snow on his clothes

“Babe, you can head in. You look like you’re about to freeze.”

I nod to Chris and ask “Just walk in?”

“My ma doesn’t care, she has everyone just walk right in.”

I stare at the door as I push it open and enter the house. Shutting it behind me to keep all the warmth in the house

I’m first hit with voices and I slow to a stop as I attempt not to intrude

But then I quickly realize they’re talking about me

“No, this is really the first time he’s ever brought her up. He told me all about her a day ago and that she was coming for Christmas.”

“Shanna is laying into her for answers and to find out what kind of person she is. God I hope she’s not some arrogant brat.”

My eyes widen suddenly as my arms drop to my sides quickly

“God knows Chris has poor taste in women. Should be interesting to meet her. From what he’s told me she’s a bit high maintenance.”

My eyebrows shoot up at that and I huff in annoyance

“I can only hope she isn’t some privileged obnoxious child. Chris didn’t give me much, only that they didn’t want to be apart. It sounds like they’re pretty serious.”

“How close could they be if he kept her hidden from us? She’s got to be the reason he skipped literally everything for thanksgiving but the dinner. He literally rolled in here at 3 and left by 8.”

The pause in conversation leaves me frozen in the entry way as I feel like I just stepped into something I shouldn’t hear

“You think he’s fallen for a girl who will keep him from us for holidays? That’s often what happens when a son marries someone.”

“You think they’re getting married?! He hardly knows the girl. God bless her but Chris could never commit to something like that. You know the cycle, give it a few more months and they’ll have moved on.”

“He said she can be difficult, especially under pressure. Like I said super high maintenance.”

“Probably means controlling.”

Excuse me?

“If this girl is wrong for him I’ll have a conversation with him. He’s my son, he’ll listen to me. She’ll be just another ex girlfriend if we don’t like her—”

I can feel the lump in my throat growing as I reach for the door handle but it opens and I take a step back as Chris steps in

He looks to me confused as I remain hovering by the door like I wanted to bolt, his arms find their way around my sides saying “you alright?”

My shoulders tighten and wind up as my whole body tightens up, I shrug in response as I slip from his grasp

Scott shouts “Ma! Chris and y/n are here!”

Chris huffs in response to his brother

The group of people file towards us as my hands pull at the zipper sides of Chris’ jacket that’s tightly wrapped around my body

Tightening it around me

“Chris!”

He bounds for his mother, and you could tell how much he loves him mom. That’s a strong hug around her. Clearly he missed her

Maybe she was right, I didn’t think I was keeping him from his family

Suddenly I feel super out of place as their whole family hugs and speaks to each other

Slowly I slip into the background of the family as my back presses to the door, everything growing overwhelming

“My sweet boy. I’m so happy you’re here.”

Controlling.

That word wanders around my head as I feel the weight of it

High maintenance

How could she have all these opinions of me before even meeting me?

Scott pulls away from his older sister saying “y/n, meet my sister Carly… y/n?” He looks behind him not finding me

I’m practically melting through the door as Chris suddenly pulls away from the conversation him and his mother are having

“honey?”

The people in front of me, serving as I wall suddenly break into two groups and the whole Evans family turns towards me

Chris looks to me with a widening smile and walks forward, grabbing my hand and saying “Everyone, this is my girlfriend y/n. I’ll introduce you to each person in a minute. Firstly, this is my ma.”

The woman looks to me and I feel the nauseous feeling grow as I stare at her nervously

She takes a step towards me as Chris’ warm hand leaves my back

She smiles and says “I’m Lisa. It’s so great to meet you.”

My grin slips as she pulls me into a hug and I grow frustrated as she says “Chris just adores you.”

I swear there’s sarcasm coming off her words

“Love, mom. I love her.” Chris confirms as his smile falls from his lips and I’m released. I’m basically introduced around and the minute I’m free from introductions I find Scott

He’s with Carly but I grab his wrist tightly and give him the crazy eyes. He excused himself from his sister as I pull him out front

“I have to get out of here.”

“What? What are you talking about?”

My hands pull down my face as I frown and say “Your mother doesn’t know I heard what she and Carly were saying in the kitchen.”

“What we’re they saying in the kitchen?” He leans forward, practically begging for the information

“Am I controlling?”

“What? Why would you…. Oh.” He pauses as he looks inside the glass panels for a second saying “she doesn’t know you. Don’t take what she said to heart. She probably read a bad article about you.”

I shake my head as I sit down on the front steps and he follows shortly after “They lost my suitcase. I have nothing. I’m feeling insecure enough already. And I know Chris is loving every minute of this but I’m just… overwhelmed and annoyed.”

Scott nods as he rubs my shoulder, and I continue saying “He never told his mom or anyone about me. They don’t know me. Would he have ever told them about me? He basically worships your mom. But I’m not important enough to be a topic?”

“I’m sure he has good reason, bee.”

I huff in response and cover my face saying “This is going to be a long week. You have to promise me you won’t leave my side. If Chris isn’t glued to my side you have to be. Please.”

His eyes widen and he says “That’s a big job.”

I narrow my eyes to him saying “Scott.”

He smiles lightly saying “Fine deal.”

“This is going to be a long week.” We both say in sync

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Oh hi! It’s been awhile, hasn’t it! I wanted to create a Christmas story, this is only going to be a few parts, I think (don’t know yet!)

I really enjoyed writing this part, I’m currently working on a part two! I hope you all enjoy this!

Next part>>

Make sure you comment to be added to the taglist!

More will be published soon! Promise!

Make sure you interact with my stories please!

#chris evans #chris evans x reader #chris evans x girlfriend!reader #chris evans x you #Chris evans Christmas #chris evans x y/n #cevans #captain america #marvel #Chris evans Christmas fic #Chris evans imagine #chris evans fanfic

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coltrainbat · 2 years ago

Note

Imagine

Chris loves the feeling of sleeping on ur boobs

https://cdn.shopify.com/s/files/1/0580/0837/1362/articles/70_ff3f59ef-5c8a-48fc-a4b1-4435c34c0f82.png?v=1636438945 thats how i imagine then, honestly idk The size

And I wanna say that I love your writing and that I’m proud of you<3

Favourite Pillows

A/N: Aww I’m proud of you too. Wait can I get more little messages after requests its so cute.

The Pic:

You were propped up in bed, Dodger at your side, glasses sitting lazily on the end of your nose reading your book. Covers pulled up to your chin, warm and snuggly in the sheets. It was almost 11 and Chris still hadn’t come home.

They were shooting night scenes and while you appreciated that were filming in Boston so he could come home after work for once, this was a late one even for him.

You heard the front door being opened and closed slowly, the sound of soft steps coming up the stairs. Dodger stirred slightly but then seemed to decide it wasn’t worth the effort and went back to his slumber on your lap.

Chris appeared in the doorway, peaking his head in,

“I thought you would have been asleep by now.”

You placed your book out flat in front of you, looking up at him through your glasses

“Can’t sleep without you.”

“I’m coming.” He slipped off his shoes and undid his pants, stripping down to his boxer briefs.

He whistled while he took off his clothes “Dodger. Bed.” With that the pup, lazily made his way back onto the floor and towards his mat near the door.

“More room for me now.” Chris smirked at you.

You put your book on the bedside table and opened the sheets that covered your body. Your thick thighs revealed a small triangular window of your hot pink lace panties. His eyes trailed up to the tight grey cotton tank top, which while stretchy and comfortable looked like a size too small as it hugged your chest tightly, exposing your prominent nipples and large mounds.

“Now this is why I like when we film in Boston.” He crawled towards you on the bed, getting himself comfortable as he kissed you before placing his head down on your tits, his favourite pillow, his warm large body swallowed you up as he distributed his weight on top of you, tangling his legs in yours.

With a sigh he lay his head down softly on your chest.

“Big day?” You enquired.

“I am exhausted and been thinking of this all day.” His voice muffled as he sunk into your cleavage. Being fully supported by the soft, fleshy melons. His beard tickled the skin of your boobs, as he nuzzled in between them, inhaling the scent of your coconut body oil and various other shower products.

You giggled slightly as you ran your hands through his hair, he let out a content moan as he enjoyed the motion of your hands gliding through across his head, slightly scratching his scalp.

In no time at all you heard soft snores fall from his lips. As always, he had fallen asleep in his favourite position. You turned off the light next to you and slowly shimmied down the pillows to lay comfortably, careful not to stir the sleepy boy.

#chris evans #chris evans imagines #chris evans one shot #chris evans imagine #chris evans fluff #chris evans fic #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans fan fiction #chris evans x reader #chris evans x you #chris evans x curvy reader #chris evans x curvy!reader #chris evans x plus size reader #chris evans x plussize!reader #chris evans x y/n #christopher robert evans #CEvans #cevansedit #chris evans x female reader

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frostironfudge · 2 years ago

Text

You Said I Was Your Favourite - Ari Levinson

Summary: You're taken from Ari. He's promised you many things but when his eyes don't meet yours and his present words begin to make you doubt his past promises. Will you go back to him?

Paring: Mafia!Ari Levinson x Female!Reader

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, angst, mentions of past self harm, scars of self harm mentioned, reader is clean since 3 months, canon level violence, reader kidnapped, swearing, guns, blood, injury, protective ari, smut, p in v, dirty talk, fluff, past is in italics, hurt/comfort, fluff/smut, nicknames: metuka (meaning sweetheart).

A.N.: honestly the lyric 'you drew stars around my scars, but now i'm bleeding' cardigan by taylor swift, was circling around my head for the most part writing this fic. this is sort of a self indulgent fic, plus Mr. Levinson just reminds me of this comforting bear, i adore him. wrote this amidst a writing block so it may not be top notch but i adore it.

Dividers: @firefly-graphics || Word Count: 4.1k

Main Masterlist || AO3

Burning gunmetal and rust, a leaking pipe of water. Rough, uneven ground digs into your skin. Your gaze searches the dark room, vision field limited at the angle your head is twisted upon.

The overhead light flickers with an inconsistent buzz. You groan when you feel yourself being propped up to your knees.

“Stupid bitch.” The man sneers, grip tightening on your hair, twisting harshly. Your clothes stick to you, uncomfortably so. Sweat and you fear some amount of blood might be the reason.

The door is kicked open, heavy footsteps each around the room. You can’t look up fully due to the grip on your head.

However recognising that cologne is easy, and the way your heart soars even in this most horrible situation. You know it’s him—Ari.

Another whimper is coaxed out of you, your head tilted further the warm barrel of the gun touches your jaw.

Ari’s gaze is cold, not the warm blue waters that you love to sink into, none of the fiery blaze present with which he would trace your form.

“I see you made it.” The man chuckles, tapping your jaw with the gun, “Here I thought apart from your long gone wife no one held your affections.” He laments.

Ari’s jaw tightens, lips pressed into a thin line. It is then you realise he isn’t sparing you a glance. His gaze is on the man only.

“What no words? I have your girl.” The man scoffs, Ari just shrugs.

“You should really fact check, Parson.” Ari tuts, retrieving the pack of cigarettes he carries and lights one.

One puff, then a second one.

He scratches the side of his mouth with his thumb. Eyes everywhere else but on your form.

You swallow, your heart trying to convince your mind this is a dream. You were sleeping.

You had gone out, the mall? Yes.

Picking up a dress for dinner with Ari.

You must have gotten tired and fallen asleep.

This is just a dream.

Ari would never let his gaze stray from you. He would never ignore you.

“So if I shoot her, you won’t be sad or mad?” Parson’s voice sounds full of doubt.

“Oh I would be, but it is because you killed an innocent person, not because she means anything to me. You have the wrong woman.” Ari takes another drag of the cigarette. It burns bright then turns to ash.

You feel tears brim your eyes, a wicked smirk on Ari’s face.

“Oh, did you think more?” He speaks in a mocking tone. You feel your heart crack.

Please be a dream. Your heart screams, wails in your chest. Your gaze shifts down, lips pressed together tightly not to let the sob break free.

“But, but I saw the two of you, your hand on her face. She’s in l-love with y-you.” Parson stammers, his clear upperhand being undermined.

“Half of the female population pines for a minute of my affection.” Ari drops the cigarette, stepping upon it with the heel of his boot.

“You should have had more women in here.” He gives a dry chuckle.

“There isn’t anyone apart from you, Metuka.” Ari whispers against your forehead, “After a long time my heart has thawed, waiting to place itself onto your palms.”

You stay silent, your heart hammering in your chest.

“Bear.” Your throat tightens, “I, I have feelings for you too.” You admit, “I thought, I thought you wouldn’t—,”

“Oh but I do, Metuka.” He smiles, the kind that melts your heart. He pulls you into his arms, engulfing you in his bear hug. You nuzzle closer into the crook of his neck.

You blink tears at the memory.

“I’ve seen you kiss her.” Parson still argues.

Ari clicks his tongue, clearly irritated.

Ari’s lips find yours, he walks in after his work day. You gave him your apartment key. A squeal leaves you when he lifts you up, arms wrapping around your waist pulling you flush against his broad chest.

Deep rumbling laughter fills the small kitchen. You tilt your head back looking up at him. He then brushes his lips against yours, your hand moves to tangle with his soft hair. A few of the strands tickling your cheek.

The kiss turns bruising, you tug on his hair, he groans into your mouth, hands tightening around you. Keeping you to him.

“You’re mine, Metuka, as I am yours.” He promises.

“Parson, you’re wasting my fucking time.” Ari roars, anger coursing through his voice. You close your eyes.

“So you won’t care if I hurt her?” Parson smirks, watching the man in front of him closely. He taps the gun to your forehead.

“No one will lay a finger upon you, Metuka.” Ari promises as you’re laying with your head in his lap.

“Ari, nothing will happen to me.” You look up at him, his palm brushing over your head pauses, eyes harbour a moment of worry.

You grasp the hand that is on your abdomen, bringing it to your lips you kiss his palm. The callouses memorised by you. Your thumb traces over them.

“You will always protect me, I know.” You assure him.

“I don’t want you to get hurt because of what I do. Ever.” There is a furrow between his brows.

“Bear.” You try to get him to smile at the nickname, he doesn’t, you frown.

“Metuka,” Ari struggles with verbalising, you sit up, effortlessly he makes you sit facing him, “I will protect you till my last breath.”

“Bear, don’t, say that.” Your hands cup his face, stroking over his beard.

“There is only you, I only harbour you in my heart.” Blue eyes study you as you take in his words, your skin heats.

“I love you, Ari.” Your words light him up, he rewards you with the prized grin that belongs only to you.

“Parson, I was told you have a negotiation for business.” Ari taps his foot, your eyes drop from his face, “I didn’t realise you’d rather discuss the women I fuck.”

The words are cruel, they make you question everything over the past six months.

Your brain mocks your heart, you almost don’t feel the blade sinking into your forearm. When you refocus, you see the torn sleeve, Parson’s smile drops when Ari doesn’t show a shred of care.

“Let's try the other hand.” Parson moves, gripping your left hand. You panic.

“No.” You whisper, you hadn’t let Ari see your arms, favouring full sleeves. Not letting him take off your shirt when things got intimate during heavy make outs.

You were waiting for the damn scars to fade. You try to pry your hand away.

Ari’s hands freeze under your shirt. The way you tensed had him pause. He retracts his hands and pulls his mouth away from your neck.

“I’m sorry.” He whispers, attempting to shift away. Your hands grasp his shoulders urging him to stay.

“Ari, Ari let me explain—,”

“You just have to say no, Metuka. It all stops. I don’t want an explanation.” He shakes his head.

“I’m, no I want to do this, kissing you making out, I just, I’m not comfortable taking my top off yet.” Your skin heats, you gaze down at his half exposed chest. The hypocrisy makes you wince.

“Do you want my hands to explore beneath?” He questions, you nod.

“So the shirt is not off but I can try to touch your very pretty boobs.” He just laughs when you lightly smack his chest. Grasping your palm he brings your fingers to his lips. Placing soft kisses upon them as his beard tickles.

You giggle, Ari adores you.

His palms then cup your cheeks, “Whenever you’re ready, we’ll take it further okay? I’m very happy making out as though we’re horny teenagers.”

That earns him another smack.

His deep laugh rumbles through your chest.

You try to shift away, Parson points his gun at Ari.

“He may feel nothing but I know you do, even if you’re nothing to him. Do you want him dead?” He chuckles darkly when your eyes shift from the gun to the towering man.

Ari still doesn’t meet your gaze, you don’t understand. Till this morning it was as if you were his world. Now he looks at you as if you’re nothing to him.

“Please don’t hurt him.” You look up at Parson. He only smiles, lowering the gun. Harshly grabbing your forearm you cry out, then bite down on your tongue to stop the whimpers.

Parson pushes the sleeve back harshly, the knife ready but then he pauses, seeing the lines strewn across your skin.

“Of course, big bad mafia man, Ari Levinson would never want someone broken.” Parson shakes his head with laughter bubbling past his tongue.

Ari finally moves his gaze on you, you’re looking down, biting back sniffles. The sight of your forearm though, sends his heart plummeting.

How had he not figured it out?

Why hadn’t you told him?

Is this why you didn’t want to show him all of you?

Why had he not asked you more often if you were doing alright?

How selfish and blind had he been towards you?

How long has this been going on?

Guilt fills him.

“No one would want someone this broken.” The disgust in Parson’s voice wraps around your mind, the scars ache beckoning you towards them yet again.

“I know.” Your voice is so small, you don’t look up. You don’t want Ari to see you this way. He wouldn’t care either way. You blink away the tears, it only makes them brim over.

“Parson, you have ten seconds to step away from her.” Ari warns through gritted teeth.

The man scoffs, “You’re without a weapon. You’re in no position to—,”

The mobster reaches into his jacket, retrieving a gun.

“H-how did you get that past my guards?” Parson sutters at the ammunition reveal.

“Oh, your guards? Did I say I came in here unprepared?” Ari chuckles darkly.

Parson presses the gun to your forehead, again.

“I won’t hesitate.” He warns.

“Nor will I.” Ari declares, “Close your eyes for me, Metuka.”

You look up at him, he finally meets your gaze. You close your eyes.

You hear the click, there is the echo of a shot fired followed by a clattering. You cover your ears. The gun no longer pressed to your forehead.

“Metuka.”

Warmth wraps around you, the scent of musk and jasmine surrounds you. Ari. You’re pressed to his chest. You want to cry, bury yourself in him.

You’re about to give in, take the comfort that belongs to you. Then you pause, you tense up.

Pushing at him, no, no, he wasn’t yours, he promised and everything Ari just admitted to, he doesn’t, he never said it and you know why, now.

“I’m sorry, I had to lie. Metuka, I’m so sorry, I should have been there with you. I sent you off alone like a fool.” He stumbles over his words,

“I promised you and I broke it, I couldn’t protect you, I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry about whatever I said, I had to make him question his plan. I’m so sorry. Please talk to me, Matuka.” He pleads, large hands running up and down your shaking form.

You stay quiet, cheek pressed to the exposed flesh of his chest. His habit of having the top two buttons of his shirts unbuttoned was something you always found yourself drawn towards. Findinding your cheek pressed against it, hearing his breath and heart beating.

“You said it all so easily.” You whisper.

“I had to lie.” Ari explains, his hand cupping your face, trying to get you to look at him.

The wet tears gracing his skin breaking everything within him.

“Bear?” Your voice is low, sleep ridden.

He looks up from his files to you. You’re standing in the doorway of his office.

“Metuka? Why are you awake, is everything alright?” Pushing the chair back he stands, motioning for you to come closer.

“Bad dream…” you say, making your way to his open arms.

“Wanna talk about it?” Ari wraps his arms around you, placing a kiss to the top of your head.

You shake your head, wanting to dismiss the dream. It still gnaws at you.

“You won’t, you won’t lie to me right?” You whisper the question.

Ari’s brows furrow, “I’d never—,”

“About the way you feel, you won’t lie right? Saying that you have feelings for me when you actually don’t? If, if you just want sex then we can, you don’t have to lie to wait—,”

“Metuka.” The pain in that one word makes you pause.

Ari steps back, hands not leaving your face.

“I want everything with you okay? I don’t care how long I need to wait. I want you to be comfortable. I know I don’t express myself enough but please know I will never lie to coerce you into bed.” His blue eyes gaze into your own. Slowly you move closer to him again.

Closing the distance between the two of you. Ari’s hands move to your hips, aiding you in reaching up to him. He bends down, meeting your lips in a soft kiss. A promise.

When your lips part, as you breathe in you contemplate telling him.

“You can tell me what is on your mind.” His thumb strokes your cheek.

“Previous, previous partners have said sweet words and declarations of emotions… just to get into bed and then they leave.” You tell him.

“Give me the names.” He says so casually.

“Ari you aren’t going all Mafia Boss on them.” You warn him.

“They disrespected you, Metuka, they hurt you. Those who hurt you should not get a second chance at life.” He declares.

There is a pause, “Was your dream about me hurting you?” He hesitates in wanting to know, a fear so deeply ingrained.

You nod.

“I wouldn’t ever intentionally hurt you, please know that. I may have to lie or keep some truths half hidden, to protect you from the world I am a part of, I don’t want that tainting you.” Ari admits his worries, your arms wrap around him.

He seeks refuge in your warmth.

“I cannot have people use you or hurt you just to get back at me, for things I’ve done.” He continues, “I don’t want you to be caught in the crossfire and I will make sure of it that you don’t ever get hurt.”

“I’m so sorry.” He says again, you grab at his coat lapels, “I’m going to find who leaked our location—,”

“Ari, it hurts.” You finally register the wound on your forearm, looking at it you frown.

Then you look down at Ari’s sleeve, his jacket half off, the sleeve of his shirt torn to make a makeshift bandage for your wound. You stare up at him.

“Metuka, we’ll talk about everything at home. Can you stand?” He watches over you, the protectiveness within him brimming over.

You wince moving your leg forward.

“Alright, I’m carrying you.” Ari decides, shifting to your side and in a blink you’re in his arms.

“Boss.” Lloyd interrupts his step towards the door.

“Close your eyes.” He whispers softly to you, you bury your head against his chest. Closing your eyes. Breathing in his scent.

You feel Ari turn, “Keep him alive. I want answers, then I’ll take care of it. Metuka isn’t to be messed with, ever.” There is a dark edge to his voice, a judgement veiled between words.

Lloyd hums, “Alright, can I be creative with the keeping alive process?”

You don’t hear Ari’s reply, just feel him beginning to move again.

The distant yell has you know what his reply was to Lloyd.

Ari doesn’t take you to your apartment, you’re driven up to his estate. The first time you had seen his home post the lunch he took you to for your first date you joked if he was a mafia drug lord.

You giggle remembering his expression. Ari smiles when he hears the melodic sound. Nerves easing.

“What’s making you laugh?” He smiles as you meet his gaze with a smile. The dim lighting of the car did not dull the soft shine in his loving gaze.

“Just your face, when I asked if you’re a mafia drug lord when you brought me here for the first time.” You laugh again, he squeezes your side playfully.

“I was so scared you’d go running to the hills when I told you.” He admits. His free hand softly traces your left hand. Never over the scars just bordering around them.

“I wouldn’t, I mean, shady things yeah, but you aren’t in the whole drug thing so…” you trail off, the house comes into view.

“Come, I’ve got a medic on call.” Ari holds you protectively yet again.

“I think I can walk—,” you keep quiet at the look he gives you.

The medic is a sweet woman, she tends to your wounds, the cut isn’t deep for stitches, just a dressing. Her eyes linger on your scarred forearm, she doesn’t broach. You’re thankful for that.

The other scarpes littered over your form are checked and cleaned.

Ari enters the room, holding your favourite blue shirt of his and a pair of leggings you left here. He places them then moves to stand outside the room, waiting for you to change.

“I want to tell you about, about the scars.” You tell him, his face ashen as he turns.

“I, I’m sorry I didn’t pay more attention.” He doesn’t know what he should say, you shake your head.

“I hid them, I, I’m about three months clean now. I wanted them healed before you saw, didn’t want you to think I’m broken.” You quietly admit the last part.

“Metuka, I could never.” Ari gently grasps your hands, “You aren’t broken, this, this is hard, I just want to support you. The way you need. I don’t want you doing this to yourself ever again, but I know it’s easier said than done. I’m proud of you for being clean for three months. So immensely proud.” He peppers kisses all over your face, his beard tickling you laugh.

“You never have to hide any part of you from me.” Ari grasps your chin gently, tilting your head back, “I love you. Every part, even the ones you may keep hidden away from me.”

You stare up at him, the little flecks in his eyes, the sincerity of his words. Your chest tightens.

“Ari.” You remember to breathe.

“I love you.” He affirms again.

“Ari.” His name breaks as your voice does, “Ari, I love you too.”

“Metuka.” His own voice grows heavy with emotion, “No one is in my heart but you, no one holds my heart but you.”

Your hands move from his chest, up his neck, one cups his face the other runs through his hair. He sighs, basking in the warmth of your touch.

You reach up, gently tugging him downward. Ari complies with your wish.

Your lips meet, his hand moves over your back, towards your neck. His lips slightly chapped, bitten in worry, the lingering hint of smoke and the drink he probably took. His tongue moves over your bottom lip, parting your lips.

Your groan has him push himself closer to you. Your legs around his waist, Ari nips at your bottom lip coaxing another whimper from you. Your fingers tug upon his hair, a deep growl rumbles within his chest.

You can feel his hardening length against your core, you gasp when his hips move against you.

“A-ari,” his lips move along your jaw, nipping and humming at the taste of your skin.

Your clit pulses as he sucks upon the spot beneath your ear.

“I feel so content.” He hums, tugging on your earlobe, “Having you back in my arms.” His beard brushes over the spot he just etched his mark onto.

You keen as his bulge twists the fabric of your panties over your clit. Pleasure sparks across your spine.

“Mine, just as I am yours.” Ari says, biting down on your collar bone. His large form encases you. His lips on every inch of your exposed skin, the little gown coming off, your nipples harden brushing against the fabric of his shirt.

“Fuck,” you tug on the shirt, he shifts back letting you undo the buttons, his own large hands moving over your sides, eyes darkening.

“You sure you want this, Metuka?” Ari hisses when your nails scrape over his chest, your lips tracing over his sternum, making way to his nipple tugging on it, his grip tightens on your thighs.

“I want you, Ari. How much ever you’re willing to give me.” Your lips trace over his neck, to his jaw, then his lips. Hands moving to his pants, he aids you in undoing them.

His length twitches in your palm, you moan softly feeling the familiar vein on the underside as you trace his length. Ari groans as your thumb circles over his tip collecting the precum and bringing it to your lips.

Fingers hooking around the band, you raise your hips, Ari gets rid of your panties, discarding them to the side, you shiver as the cool air greets your wet folds.

Warm fingers have you arch, grinding against them.

He brings his soaked fingers toward his mouth. You moan when his eyes close as he hums at your taste appreciatively.

“Ari, please.” You plead, he chuckles.

“Impatient little sweet girl.” He teases, parting your thighs further, hooking them around his waist, his tip moves against your folds, you want to sigh at the relief of being so close to feeling him.

It turns into a moan melding with his own groan as your walls take his girth in, chest rising and falling, Ari sinks into you inch by delicious inch. The burning stretch dulling into pleasure as his thumb draws circles onto your clit.

“Ari, Ari, Ari—,” you choke on your words, his his flush against yours, your walls pulse around him. His lust blown eyes on your pussy.

“She takes me so well, fuck baby, look at you.” He gazes into your eyes, slowly pulling out halfway then sinking into you again. And again.

Your jaw slack, he shifts slightly, tip brushing over the spot that has you shuddering in his hold. Ari pushes you down, the angle making him go deeper, your back arched. The sound of skin slapping as his pace becomes relentless.

“Squeezing me so good, don’t want to let your cock go do you, Metuka?” His mouth latches to your taut nipple, your hand grabs at his hair tugging harshly lips only know to say his name—oh god, oh god, oh god.

You feel the pleasure build slowly then all at once he has you dancing along the edge. Your legs wrap around him tighter, not letting him go too far. His large hands squeeze at your hips, mouth latching onto the other nipple. His happy trail, rubs against your clit, sending you over.

You cum with a cry of his name, the wet sloshing sounds only increase as you gush around him. His pace doesn’t relent, pushing you further down, he hovers above you. Your leg now over his shoulder.

His hand wrapped around your throat, stroking over the sweat sheened skin.

“So pretty this way, one more baby, one more before I fill you up. One more,” he coaxes, you feel him move impossibly deeper. Tip hitting your cervix stars cloud your vision.

Can’t, I can’t, you think, “Ari,”

“You can and you will.” He growls, pinching your clit you shudder yet again, the pleasure begins to climb, taking over you nerve by nerve.

“Look at you, so pretty, taking all of me so well, I belong to you my sweetness, all of me, yours, yours to love, yours to hold, yours to claim, yours to fuck.” Ari swears as he feels your walls spasm, your nails dig into his forearms you shudder in his grasp as your orgasm triggers his own.

Ari moans your name, spilling into you, claiming your walls with his seed. He continues to thrust allowing you both to ride out your orgasms, he watches the mix of the two of you coat a ring at the base of his length.

“I’m not done with you, Metuka.” He says, softly kissing your forehead.

You look at him through glassy eyes, aftershocks lingering through you.

He slowly pulls out, you whimper, then moan when his lips move along your inner thighs, blowing softly over your clit.

“Ari—,” Your whine cut off when his mouth latches to your cunt. The way his eyes glaze and roll back at your taste, the moan that presses against your folds and clit. You cry out for more of him.

“I told you I’m not done. Have to have a taste of my pretty pussy.” Is all he says, beard gleaming with your arousal, before his lips latch around your clit again.

-x-

1K notes · View notes

satellite-evans · 2 years ago

Text

Chris Evans loving on his pregnant wife for 20 minutes straight

Pairing: Chris Evans x reader

Summary: a fan made a video about your husband not being able to keep himself from talking about you and your unborn child at all times.

Word count: 2k

Warnings: Fluff. Like y’all know you can’t expect anything else from me at this point

A/N: I would like to say before y'all come to me and say 'my omg you copied @astranva how could you' I didn't. Nova herself is cool with it and I'm just sick of you guys always putting us against each other. We are both fluff writers for the same white dude. Similarities are going to happen. So please, don't attack me, and don't full nova's inbox with bullshit. Thank you. <3

English is not my first language, so I apologize if I made any (grammar) mistakes. Feedback, requests, talks, vents, recommendations or just simple questions are always welcome.

Happy reading xxx

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site.

Chris Evans is a well-known name in Hollywood. Not only for his looks, his iconic role as Captain America, and his famous left boob grab, but the way he kept talking about you in all his interviews.

There was no denying that he was obsessed with you and even more since you carried his child. This obsession was even noticed by fans that they couldn't help but make a video about their favorite Marvel star.

Chris Evans loving on his pregnant wife for 20 minutes straight.

The trending internet video started with a clip of Chris in his famous white suit standing in front of the cameras at the knives out the premiere.

While everyone was screaming at him and trying to get his attention, his eyes were only locked on you, mesmerized by your beauty and making sure you were okay, that the baby was fine.

"Hey Chris, how are you? Good to see you." The voice of the extratv journalist was heard while she was shaking his hand.

"What was it like to be a part of it and work with the cast?" Her first question came immediately after the introduction and made Chris think for a few seconds.

" Uh, I-It was uh, very humbling, y'know a-a lot very talented people who've had uh very long career in this industry so, a lot to learn."

Just when the interviewer was going to shoot him with another question, Chris showed he was clearly not done with his answer.

"Also, also I would like to say that it meant a lot to my wife, Y/N, too." He pointed towards you, where you were standing next to his publicist, trying not to take his thunder away tonight with your very pregnant belly.

"Oh yeah, Y/N is also here tonight! Let's let her join in this interview too!"

Chris then waved the woman off "No, that's okay. She doesn't like this type of thing and I want to respect that. But yeah, she is the reason I accepted this-the job. She is, y'know- my wife is very into detective work and solving crimes so when the opportunity came I just-I had to take it to make her happy."

The next clip showed Chris yet with another interviewer, but this time he was sitting in front of her with Ana de Armas next to him.

"So first, I wanted to say congratulations to Chris. You and your wife are expecting a baby."

In an instant, a smile grew on his face, and he got excited since the conversation was his favorite topic.

"That's right, yeah." He said, with a smirk on his face and his pink in his mouth.

"So how does that feel, becoming a dad after waiting all those years?"

He answered the question with such ease, " It is exciting, but also intimidating, in a way." He started, "Just like you said the need- I wanted to have a family for so long, you think I would've mentally prepared myself, but it is nothing like that. You're scared, you're nervous, you-you constantly thinking if you're going to be a great dad, y'know? All these questions come up and make you more anxious than you already are but, thankfully I have Y/N, she-"

"Omg, she is amazing," Ana interrupted him.

Chris nodded immediately, agreeing with her statement.

"So amazing. I mean, honestly, without her, I think I would be lost. She is the best wife, the best friend, and I know she is going to be the best mother for our child. I-I don't know what I would do without her."

"That's so cute. I'm so happy for you, Chris."

The next clip was him in Massachusetts, on a set of Defending Jacob posing in front of the cameras with a bunch of fans.

"Man, when are you growing your hair back, we loved it in infinity war!" A man said while recording the encounters between Chris and his fans. He smiled and looked towards the guy who said: " I'm sorry but, the wife doesn't like it, so it's not gonna happen. Whatever she wants."

With that, he waved at the fans for the last time before going back to his trailer. He almost missed the guy's response:

"Never thought Captain America was gonna be pussy-whipped!"

Without turning back, Chris shouted back to him : "Why are you saying like it's a bad thing!"

Another video was added of him at the tonight show starring Jimmy Fallon.

"Did you-where you sad when you had to do the end-last scene?" Jimmy asked him after they started talking about the success of Avengers Endgame.

"Yeah, it was very emotional. I mean, it's emotional. These movies are a huge part of your life. And so, when they come to an end, it really it has an impact. But thankfully, I had my wife by my side who supported me throughout everything and, y'know, was there when I needed that extra emotional support."

"Speaking of your wife, Y/N, congratulations buddy she is pregnant!"

The whole crowd started cheering and clapping, Including Jimmy himself, and Chris could only smile and nod, showing how proud he was.

"Yeah, she is. We're expecting a child together, which sounds so odd when I say it because my dream I had for years finally became a reality."

The whole audience was awed, making Chris swoon.

"I am so happy for you pal, I truly am. So how far along is she?"

He looked in the air, thinking and making sure he was giving the right answers.

"She is- tomorrow she will be 7 months pregnant, yeah. Again, I couldn't be more excited about the whole thing. She is incredible. I mean literally, words don't even describe how much she means to me. I love her so much and can't wait to meet our baby."

"That's incredible news, buddy."

The final clip of the video was a self-recorded video Chris made to wish one of his fans a happy birthday.

"Hey Josh, it's me, Chris Evans. So your friends told me you turned 21, and I just wanted to say, have a happy birthday buddy. You're finally at the age that you can drink, at least legally, so go out and have a drink and enjoy it with your friends as much as you can. I would've joined you guys, but y'know, the missus is pregnant and we don't want her to scream at us like a street cat, do we?"

The video also caught you screaming from behind.

"Hey, I heard that!"

"I was just joking honey, all good here!" Chris screamed back. " She just proved my point," he whispered "anyway, happy birthday buddy, thank you for all the love, and enjoy your day. I've gotta show some love to my wife. Don't want her to get too mad at me. See you later, pal."

The video was so loved that it got 10 million in just one day and received many comments from fans:

user1: plsss the way he looks at her, he's down BAD

user2: when is someone going to talk about me the way Chris is talking about his pregnant wife?? WHEN???

user3: I love how he randomly brings up y/n during any conversation lmao

user4: NOT THE STREET CAT LMAOOO

The video got so much love that it even caught the attention of the man himself, Chris Evans.

#cevans #chris evans #chris evans fic #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans x reader #chris evans imagine #chris evans fic rec #chris evans fluff #chris evans fanfic #chris evans x fem!reader #dad!chris evans #fluff #chris evans x you #evansedit #chris evans x wife!reader #chris evans x female reader

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lilacevans · 10 months ago

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𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐫𝐞𝐝: 𝐚 𝐩𝐞𝐭𝐞'𝐬 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞.

✧.*ೃ⁀➷ pete's place | the intro | opening night | the playlist ༊*·˚

✧.* : ̗̀➛ dark!ari levinson x female!reader (non-descriptive)

✧.* : ̗̀➛ word count: 475.

✧.* : ̗̀➛ warnings: verbal humiliation, ball-sucking, references to face slapping, dirty talk, filthy ari.

✧.* : ̗̀➛ requested by: anonymous

✧.* : ̗̀➛ notes: the big one is here!! this one was really fun to write; although i do need to get better at writing dirty talk as idk i just struggle with it but that's the whole point of these little drabbles. if u have any pointers pls don't hesitate to drop them in my ask box, i always welcome help!! anyway! enjoy my ari lovin' besties!! pls lemme know what u think & check out the main masterlist if this is the first your seeing anything of this series!!

*this is an 18+ space. minors are not welcome here.

*this is a dark au. there are no happy endings here.

Ari sat, propped up by an assortment of pillows against the headboard, head tipped back; long sandy strands clung to the sweat on his brow.

Soft amber glows from the setting sun snuck in through the glass panes, covering your naked body with a fading warmth as you laid between his legs. Red lipstick smeared over your lips, cheek and chin; the same red lipstick covered Ari’s thighs in pretty kisses smudging under your fingertips as you kneaded his thighs as you lapped at the skin of his balls, letting out soft, muted moans that made Ari reply with pleased hums and chesty grunts.

Heat burnt across your cheeks and the burning remnants of Ari’s heavy palms on your thighs blended together. The hues of red smeared across your face was complimented by the muted pink of your tongue, skilfully rubbing at the underside of Ari’s balls before your lips parted to suck one slowly into your mouth.

‘’That’s it, Pup,’’ Ari groaned, slow and deep; hand stroking over your hair, his hand settling lightly on the back of your neck; the sudden softness from the heaviness of his hands earlier caused your head to spin. ‘’Such a good pup.”

You whined at the sound of his drawled praise, pleasure filled and throbbing core. Your hips humped at the sheets below you, hopelessly trying to find enough pressure to relieve the ache between your legs. Ari’s chuckle soon brought you out of your head as you peered up to find his gaze locked on you, a smirk pulled at his lips.

‘’Pathetic little Pup, humping the sheets like a bitch in heat. Live for nothin’ but to be used— nothin’ but hole,’’ Ari taunted, hand now gripping the back of your neck, drawing you closer to his sack. ‘’And you fuckin’ love it. You know you do. You’d waste days between my thighs, wouldn’t you, Pup?”

A pitiful whine escaped your throat as you were forced to lower your gaze from his intense stare, trying to sink into the sheets while keeping your mouth and tongue running over his balls.

‘’Tryna’ hide from me, Pup?’’ Ari teased, fingers finding your face to tilt your eyes back to him. ‘’Don’t go shy on me now,’’ Ari continued, teeth on show as he gleamed down at you. ‘’I know that slutty mouth can fit more than one in there; will stuff your mouth full if I have to.``

Ari’s threat made you push yourself, widening your mouth and using your fingertips to manipulate both of his heavy balls to settle against your tongue. Your eyes fluttered closed, moaning softly around the skin, spit gathering at the sides of your mouth; stuffed to the brim and overflowing with everything Ari.

‘’That’s it, get ‘em dripping, pet,’’ Ari moaned into the open air. ‘’You fuckin’ love it,’’ Ari repeated breathlessly as a hand disappeared from your hair and moved to fist at his leaking cock. “Gonna keep you there forever.”

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sergeantbarnessdoll · 1 month ago

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Thigh Riding » Steve Rogers/Captain America

Week of October 13th-19th

Pairings: Boyfriend!Steve Rogers x Girlfriend!Reader

Summary: You and Steve try thigh riding.

Warnings: Smut (18+), language, dirty talk, kissing, hickeys, thigh riding, praise kink, pet names

A/N: This is my first time writing anything to do with thigh riding so this is just going to be a Drabble. Please don’t judge me. I’m also sorry if this sucks.

Written on my phone. My apologies for any mistakes.

Header made by @buckys-wintersoldier

Halloween divider made by @buckys-wintersoldier

GIF IS NOT MINE! Gif credit goes to the creator.

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!🔞

“That’s it, sweetheart. Keep rubbing that sweet pussy against my thigh.” Steve says huskily.

Steve stared down at your pussy rubbing against his thigh on his jeans. You brought the idea of thigh riding to him and he’s taking full advantage of it now.

You were just a horny mess for your man at this point. Your slick made his jeans wet. Steve already littered your neck and chest with hickeys. You loved everything about this. You just wished that you brought this up to Steve sooner.

The rough material of his jeans rubbing against your pussy felt so good. Steve would flex the muscles in his thigh to catch you off guard.

“Stevie!” You moaned when he flexed his thigh, catching you off guard.

Steve smirked to himself. His hands roamed your body as you continued your movements. His hands stopped on your hips, pressing you down harder against his thigh.

“Such a good girl.” He praises. “A good fucking girl.” He praises again.

You looked down at the bulge in Steve’s jeans, noticing how hard he is. You wanted nothing more than him to fuck you into the couch cushions, but Steve wanted you to cum on his thigh first.

“My eyes are up here, honey.” Steve snapped his fingers. “You’ll get my cock after you cum on my thigh.” He says.

You whined and looked up at him. Your clit was beginning to feel sensitive from rubbing it against his jeans. You could feel your orgasm building up. Your legs began to shake a little bit. You dug your nails in the fabric of Steve’s shirt.

“Steve, I-” A whine left your lips instead of you finishing your sentence. “I want to cum.” You finally say.

“Beg for it.” Is all he said.

A whimper fell from your lips. You moaned when you suddenly felt Steve’s fingers against your clit. He managed to slot two fingers in between your pussy and his thigh to rub your clit.

“Oh fuck, Stevie!” You moaned. “Please let me cum!” You begged desperately.

“You can do better than that, sweetheart.” Steve says.

You whined and tilted your head back.

“Steve, please!” You whined. “I’m being a good girl.” You say desperately.

That was enough for Steve to give you permission to cum.

“Cum.” Is all he says.

Steve gave your clit a rough rub, enough to send you over the edge. You came hard with a loud moan leaving your lips. Your movements came to a stop and your head fell against his shoulder. You panted heavily as Steve rubbed your back.

After a moment, you lifted your head and looked down. You felt your cheeks heat up when you seen that you soaked Steve’s jeans, but turned on at the same time.

“We should’ve done this sooner.” Steve says.

“Mhmm.” You hummed nodding.

-Bucky’s Doll

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boxofbonesfic · 1 year ago

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Title: 𝙳𝚘𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚕𝚐ä𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛 [5]

Pairing: Dark!Ransom x Reader, Lloyd Hansen x Reader

Summary: Your husband’s twin brother has always made you uncomfortable, and after two years of marriage, you finally find out why.

Warnings: Obsessive Behavior, Possessive Behavior, Stalking, Kidnapping, Basement-wife, Gaslighting, Manipulation, Breeding kink, Smut, Darkfic, Dead Dove: Do not eat!

Word Count: 3,761

A/N: i cannot wait to see what you all think of this latest development! please drop by my ask with thoughts or comments, and as always, thanks everyone for your patience! ❤️ divider by @firefly-graphics

To your absolute horror, Lloyd doesn’t stop. You’re dizzy, both from the realization and the even, steady grind of his hips. It’s terribly familiar, the way he touches you—like it’s not the first time. Your stomach rolls as an anguished wail tears from your lips at the thought, because it’s the same one you’ve been shoving down, burying underneath every single other thing you can think of, because it couldn’t be true. Ransom wouldn’t do that you, he wouldn’t—

But he has.

Lloyd clucks his tongue at you, and reaches forward to cup your face. “You can scream, Princess.” He grins. “I know you can’t keep quiet anyway.” His words turn your stomach. Your arms, previously paralyzed at your sides, come up to push frantically at his face and chest as you curse.

“Get the fuck off me, Lloyd!” You scream, but he doesn’t move—doesn’t even falter as he continues to rut into your shamefully wet cunt. He doesn’t budge, like your blows don’t even hurt. It makes you even more panicked, your eyes growing wide as you sob. Frantically, you scream for your husband, your voice swallowed by the crashing surf.

“Ransom—! Ran—” Lloyd silences you with a kiss, swallowing your fear as he presses his lips to yours. Your shock allows him entry, sweeping his tongue into your mouth as you squirm beneath him. Lloyd catches your arms easily, forcing them back against the rock behind you.

“What’s the worst part, Princess?” He asks mockingly, his amused chuckle puffing against your lips. “That it’s me? Or that you liked it? That you always liked it?” You don’t want it to be true, shaking your head as you stare at him with tear-filled eyes. He nods in response, as slow and deliberate as his thrusts. Your stomach churns with the combination of this forbidden knowledge and the unwanted pleasure that creeps up your spine.

He knows your body, that much is obvious. You don’t know how you didn’t see it before, a hundred thousand puzzle pieces falling perfectly into place as your life crumbles around them. Lloyd holds you like Ransom, kisses you like Ransom—

Or does Ransom kiss you like Lloyd?

He plays your body perfectly, like you’re an instrument he’s already mastered. Even as your head swims, the thick weight of his cock drawing pleasure from you even as you fight against it. You can hear it, how wet you are, how much your traitorous body is enjoying Lloyd. It’s maddening, the way you clench and quake beneath him, struggling ineffectually against pleasure you don’t want. He transfers both your wrists to one hand, using the other to cup your chin.

“It’s really not as bad as you think,” he coos, dragging his thumb through your tears. He kisses you again, painfully softly. “I know what you like.” Lloyd’s fingers taste like the sea as he draws them across your trembling lips. “I know what you hate.” He traces circles around your puffy nipples, before painting stripes of salt-water down your belly. He spreads your lips wider with two fingers and draws those same circles around your clit.

“I hate you!” You grit through clenched teeth, through your furious, shameful tears. Lloyd clucks his tongue, before leaning down to nose at the skin of your throat.

“No you don’t, Princess. You love Ransom—so you love me. We’re the same, baby-doll.” He leans up, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. “Don’t you get that yet?” You don’t want it to be true, it can’t be, they’re so different—but even as you think it, you know he’s not lying. You’re reeling, the stretch-burn, the raw pleasure of him inside you, the knowledge that he’s been there before—

You wail as you cum, staring unseeingly at the sky. Lloyd doesn’t even give you the courtesy of slowing down, instead fucking you steadily through it with his cock and fingers buried in your cunt. He carries you, unwilling, from one height to the next, twitching and pleading. When he finally pulls his fingers from your soaked folds, he sucks them clean.

“Love you so much, Princess,” he groans, rocking his hips steadily into yours as you mewl miserably. “I can wait for you to know you love me too.” His fingers press the skin of your hips like Ransom’s. Lloyd sucks your bottom lip, worrying it between his teeth with a growl. He holds you still while he empties into you. As he pants against your mouth, he grins.

“Feels good not to have to pretend.”

“Get off me.” You hiss at him, glaring at him with red-rimmed eyes. This time, he listens. He pulls out of you with an appreciative hum, stopping briefly to admire the slick, sticky mess he’s made. You pull your swimsuit down roughly, tugging your shirt tightly around yourself like a shield while you grab your now soaked shorts from the water, and begin to struggle into them.

“Let me—”

“Don’t fucking touch me!” You shriek, jumping further backwards into the surf. You slip on the rocks, barely remaining upright as you scramble away. “Y-you don’t touch me!” You brandish a slick rock in your hand as threateningly as you can. “I—I’m going to tell Ransom, an-and—”

The look he gives you is almost pitying. “Oh Princess. Go on and tell him.” He nods at you with a sick smile. “Tell me what he says.” Lloyd holds his hands up as you retreat, giving him as wide a berth as you an as you circle back to shore. He doesn’t follow you, watching as you stumble across the sand. You head into the trees and underbrush ringing the beach, fleeing your brother-in-law’s gaze. You know the general direction of the hotel, and you head that way, opting not to go back to the party.

The party. Your stomach turns as you think of it now, Linda’s words holding fresh meaning now. Did she know? Did Ransom? The entire idea was so ludicrous you could scarcely believe it was really happening—but it was. It had. The evidence of Lloyd’s transgression was smeared between your salt-stained thighs. You want to vomit, and so you do, leaning against a tree as you heave into the sand.

“Sweetheart?”

You look up, your eyes wild. It’s Ransom—or Lloyd. You don’t know, now, torn between wanting to rush into his arms, or turn and run. You simply stare at him distrustfully, mirroring his step forward with one back, maintaining the distance between you with careful precision.

“Baby, what’s wrong? You just wandered off, and—”

“Are you Lloyd?” You ask sharply, swallowing the desire to respond to his concern. You can’t trust your own eyes now, not anymore, and you don’t want to get close enough to verify.

Ransom stares at you confusedly.

“No? Why would you ask me that? Did something happen?” He takes another step closer, his arms outstretched placatingly. There’s true worry on his face as he takes in your wretched state, your open shirt and wet shorts, dirty feet and missing shoes. “Baby, did something happen?” He asks again, slower and more deliberate. You want to believe him, this man wearing your husband’s wedding ring, staring at you with the same eyes as the man you’d run away from.

“Tell me something about the fountain.”

“The what?”

“The fountain!” You shrill hoarsely. “The fountain, from—”

“The one in the village,” Ransom finishes. “With the messed up tiles.”

This time, you can’t stop yourself from rushing into his arms, sobbing.

“I—Lloyd, he—” The words won’t come out between your hiccoughing sobs, and you settle for burying your face in his chest as Ransom wraps his arms around you. He holds you tightly, pressing you to his body as you wail. The truth sticks in your throat like taffy as you tangle your fingers in his shirt, tears soaking into the expensive fabric.

“It’s okay, Sweetheart.” His voice is soothing. “I’m here. I got you, okay? I got you.” He doesn’t rush you, waiting until the tears slow to press a kiss into your hair. “You don’t have to talk right now. Let’s get you back to the room, okay?”

Ransom practically carries you through the underbrush, emerging near the long stairwell up from the beach. Your family—and his—are still down at the party, but you barely spare them a glance as you stagger up the sandy concrete steps. Before long, the ringing in your ears blocks out the music anyway, and all you can think about is Lloyd’s response to your threat.

Go on and tell him. Tell me what he says.

Lloyd is nowhere to be seen as you enter the villa, and you release a breath you didn’t know you were holding. You didn’t even realize you’d been watching for him, waiting for him to appear like he always did—but he doesn’t. You’re relieved as Ransom leads you back into the bedroom and closes the door behind you. For a moment, you’re not sure what to do with yourself, standing blankly by the door while Ransom watches you helplessly.

“Sweetheart… can you tell me?” He asks, resting his hands on your shoulders. You flinch at his touch instead of leaning into it, and pain flashes briefly across your face. Somehow, you are hesitant to name the shape of the monster that haunts you even now, like Lloyd had cursed your jaw to stick. With difficulty, your force it open.

“He—he pretended… he was you. And… we… I didn’t know, Ran, I didn’t know it wasn’t you,” you babble, tears forming in your red, glassy eyes. You’re expecting to see his face crease with disgust at the part you won’t say out loud, but it doesn’t. Ransom’s silent, his face scrunching first with disappointment and then anger. You can tell he’s looking for an outlet, and he settles on routine.

“Did you take your vitamins, Sweetheart?” He replies, a worried hand on your belly. “Does anything… hurt?” You shake your head.

“N-no.” Ransom turns to the dresser, grabbing the bottles and shaking out your pills one by one. You take them, shuffling into the suite’s bathroom. You a cup cool water from the faucet and bring it to your lips, swallowing them down with a grimace.

“Let’s get you a bath, Baby.”

You nod wordlessly.

Ransom helps you get undressed, and you watch his jaw tic at Lloyd’s drying cum on your thighs. He fills the whirlpool tub with hot water, and you shift uncomfortably from foot to foot as you watch him. When it’s full, he helps you into it before splashing into the water himself. He sits on the back side of the tub with you between his knees, reaching down to hold you as you sink into the water.

You lean back against your husband, fresh tears pooling in the corners of your eyes. I want to wake up now. There’s little you wouldn’t give to open your eyes and find yourself on the beach, this terrible nightmare broken. But when you do open your eyes, you’re still in the bathroom, your husband’s hands rubbing soothing circles into your skin as you wash away the evidence of his brother’s sin.

“Oh Sweetheart. I’m so sorry. I… I don’t know what to say.” He strokes your hair as he speaks to you softly, gently, like he’s soothing an animal. “Lloyd’s a lot of things. Impatient, being chiefest among them.” You freeze, the air seeming to flow right out of your lungs—out of the whole room. The dripping of the faucet is as loud as thunder.

“W-what?”

“I didn’t want you to find out like this, Sweetheart, believe me.” You wrench yourself away from him, water sloshing over the sides of the tub as you stare at your husband in disbelief. It feels like reality is crumbling to nothing as you watch, bleached into dust by the brightness of his sad smile. It’s all you can see.

“N-no, no no no no—” He reaches for you, and you slap his had away, tripping as you scramble out of the tub. “You knew.” You moan, bile rising in your throat as you wrap a towel around yourself. “You—you always knew.” Ransom rises from the lip of the tub and steps out onto the tile. You want to vomit, but there’s nothing left to bring up as you dry-heave into the sink.

“Sweetheart, I need you to calm down, this stress isn’t good for the baby.”

“The baby—” You let out a despairing little laugh. “How long, Ransom?” You ask him hoarsely. “How long have you been letting this happen?” Finally, your husband has the decency to look ashamed.

“Does it matter?”

“Yes!” You scream, pounding a fist against the counter. “Yes it fucking matters!”

“I think before New Years, last year.”

“A—a year?” You choke out the words as you clutch your belly with a shaking hand. The baby—you don’t even know if it’s Ransom’s. You feel dirty, despite having bathed. Deeper than your skin, like something inside is tainted, rotten. You want to crawl out of it, leave it behind like a shell. Perhaps then you might be able to draw enough air into your tight lungs to be able to do more than sputter your husband’s words back at him in abject disbelief.

You don’t want to relive the last year and a half but you can’t help it, flipping through the moments like flash cards as you try to pinpoint every transgression, every lie. For every possible memory that feels wrong, there are dozens of blank spaces, empty places where recollection should be. Your husband had poked his finger through the thin saran wrap of your memories, and you hadn’t even realized it was happening.

Ransom reaches forward to rest a hand on your back and you shove him so hard he stumbles, your eyes wild.

“Don’t touch me. You—you will never touch me again.” You hiss, the words ragged. Ransom scowls at you as you storm out of the bathroom, the towel still clutched against your heaving chest. You can barely hear anything over the sound of your own ragged breathing and the thundering of your heart. They’d been switching off for over a year, and you hadn’t even noticed. Sickness and shame twine in your gut as you snatch the clothes in the closet off their hangers, throwing them into your open suitcase without bothering to fold them.

“Sweetheart, don’t be rash. The baby—”

“Will not even know your name.” You don’t look at Ransom—you can’t. You feel like you don’t even know him, and you can’t help but wonder if you ever did. He’d known—hell, maybe he’d even participated in Lloyd’s sick games. The man you’d thought you married would never have stood for that. You grit your teeth as Ransom scoffs amusedly behind you.

“You’re just going to pack your suitcase and go, is that it?” There’s a cruel edge to his voice you don’t recognize—it makes him sound like Lloyd. “Baby I’m just trying to give you what you want.” You glare at him over your shoulder before returning to packing, refusing to even entertain the discussion. You push past him to get to the dresser, pulling out the rest of your things.

“You’re not thinking clearly, and I think if you really stopped and gave it some thought, you’d realize you’re making a mistake.”

“Oh, I’m the one making the mistake?” You can’t help but turn to spit venom over your shoulder. “You and your brother took turns on me like a fucking carnival ride, but I’m making a mistake?”

“You wanted a big family, a stable family. One nobody could touch—”

“You’re sick.” You swallow against the bitter acid in your throat. “How can you try to make this okay? I—I never want to see you again. Ever. I—I really, truly mean that.” The needle inside you continues to swing between rage and abject horror as you dress yourself, practically shoving your limbs into the most convenient pair of shorts and a t-shirt. Your head buzzes with the turmoil of it all, practically full to bursting. Your passport is still in the bedside table, and you make sure you grab it, shoving it into your pocket before throwing open the bedroom door.

It’s hard to breathe around the ache in your chest as you drag your heavy suitcase down the hallway, trying to ignore the sound of your husband behind you. You’re bordering on hysteria, frantic tears and snot running down your face as you flee your husband’s placating words. That’s probably the most maddening part of it—how he continues to parse out the words slowly, patiently, like he’s waiting for you to realize how sensible he’s being. You’re about ten seconds away from clapping your hands over your ears like a child, so you don’t have to hear him anymore

“Sweetheart, let’s talk about this.” Ransom calls after you. You stagger against the wall as your knees tremble, but you force yourself through it. Your heart is beating wildly, your palms clammy as you look back at your husband. You don’t expect to see him smiling. “You’re not being rational, baby.”

You don’t even know how to respond. The only words that seem to come to mind are insults, curses; the violent ills you’re currently wishing on your husband and his family. You can’t listen to him—it’s only going to make you more enraged. You already feel like your heart is about to beat out of your chest, as you gulp down ragged breaths, your vision swimming. You rest a hand against the kitchen island, your whole body throbbing hotly with your pulse.

“Shut the fuck up, Ransom,” you pant. “You can’t spin this.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that.” He ignores your acid glare, leaning forward to curl a lock of your hair around his finger. You push him away, but the movement is clumsy, your hand swinging bonelessly at the end of your arm. “You know how persuasive I can be.”

“You’re really just like him.” It slips out before you can stop it as you shake your head in astonishment.

“Oh what, you just figure that out?” Ransom’s voice is mockingly soft. “It took you long enough.”

You slap him.

The sound of it is loud and sharp, and Ransom’s head actually turns with the force of it, your husband stumbling back a few steps. It was his surprise that had allowed it—you and Ransom had never struck each other, not counting the playful smacks he delivered in the bedroom. For a moment he stays like that, frozen, before slowly turning to look at you. Your wedding ring had split his lip, and you watch as he draws his thumb across it smearing the bright line of crimson across his mouth.

“You’re starting to piss me off, Sweetheart.” His hand clamps so tightly around your wrist that it hurts, and you yelp, pushing uselessly at his chest. Ransom had never been violent with you, never even given you reason to suspect he would raise a hand to you, but as he bends you over the kitchen island, you feel fear. Your husband twists your arms behind your back, ignoring your pained whimper when he squeezes too tight.

This—this isn’t happening. It’s not. My family is here, my, my father—

You wail, the sound muffled by the marble countertop and your tears, salt and snot running onto the counter beneath your cheek.

“Just let me go, Ransom—”

“Oh Baby we are way past that.” The kiss he presses into your hair makes nausea churn in your belly, and you let out another sob. “I put a ring on that—where’s your finger, baby, let me see—ah! There it is.” Ransom holds your hand up, his fingers digging into the meat of your palm. “On that finger,” he continues, tapping the diamond with his fingernail. “Till death do us part, Sweetheart, that’s what we said. That’s what you promised me—and Lloyd.”

“You’re crazy—” The words stick in your throat as your vision tunnels. I feel sick. You do, your stomach churning as your heartbeat thunders in your ringing ears.

“Wha-you do’t me?” The words are like bubblegum in your mouth as your husband chuckles softly.

“You didn’t really think those were all vitamins, did you?” Your eyes widen with horror as you begin to struggle again, flailing your uncoordinated limbs as you try to force Ransom off of you. “Now don’t worry, it’s nothing that could hurt the baby,” he says reassuringly, as if that is your only cause for concern.

“Noo,” you moan, wriggling feebly beneath him as you feel yourself recede further and further into your body. “Don’ wannit.”

“I know, Sweetheart. But what you want isn’t good for the family,” he says, stroking a gentle finger over the curve of your cheek. “You want to run, too run from what we’re trying to build with you. For you,” Ransom releases you as the sound of nearby voices reach your buzzing ears. “I’m not going to let that happen.”

He steps away from you as Nathalie bursts through the door, holding a champagne bottle by the neck as she dances to music blaring from her phone speakers.

“There you are, chica, we were looking—mom! Dad! She’s in here! I thought you—are you okay?” She sets the bottle down on the small table to the right of the sliding door. She rushes over to you, looping one limp arm around your shoulders as concern sets into the lines of her face. “Jesus, I—Ransom! What’s wrong with her?!”

Your husband appears in your tunnel-vision, carding a worried hand through his hair.

“Thank fucking Christ, Nathalie—I was just going to text you. I think she’s having a reaction to something, I don’t know—”

“Nn-Nat don-bel—eev ‘m,” your warning slurs together into an unintelligible soup as your head lolls. Nathalie tries to stand you up against the counter, and dimly you are aware of her calling for your parents, her voice muffled like she’s talking underwater.

Lloyd—or is it Ransom?—lays you down on the countertop, his grinning face looming over you as your vision narrows down to a pinprick, the concern in his voice at complete odds with the grin on his face.

“Don’t worry. We’ll take care of you.”

to be continued…

next chapter

Thank you for reading! Please check out my masterlist for other, similar works, and follow my library blog, @box-of-bones-library for updates. ❤️

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misscherry-26 · 2 years ago

Text

Beauty And The Beast - Ari Levinson

Pairing: Beast!Ari Levinson x Belle!reader

Warnings: SMUT! UNPROTECTED SEX, ORAL SEX (F)

Author's note: Here is the long-awaited start of Fairytale Fantasy! I hope everyone likes and enjoy it as much as I did writing it (Hehehe) I tell you that the back pain I have from working on this is worth it hahaha. I'm a whore for Beast!Ari 🫣🥵

Taglist: @optimisticallygarbage , @smile1318 , @alessandraavengers , @she-wolf09231982 , @octobers-snow , @sizzlingfurydeer , @ccutieprincess , @imrandomstuffsblog

Maybe you should have listened to your father. Maybe you should have stayed home and called the guards as he told you to do in case something happened to him. But of course, you had to be stubborn and go looking for your father by yourself. Deep down you know why. Because everyone in town doesn't think you're capable. They believe that you are a simple, innocent young woman who does not pay attention to her surroundings and who plunges into the world of fantasy. But that world is so beautiful. Not only reading but writing as well. Your little notebook next to your writing machine keeps stories that have made you lose your innocence for a long time.

If only people knew what you do at night when you finish writing them. The times that your hands have traveled from your chest to your femininity, releasing that pleasure that reading them generates. And it all comes from your mind. Your precious mind.

But that's a secret that the rest of the town doesn't know. Nor will it know. Oh, the scandal they would make! they would kick you out of town, they would try to...

But if they only knew that it started with a dream. A very realistic dream that woke you up in the middle of the night with your underwear stained with a fine creamy liquid.

For in the dream, you were the victim of a beast, an abominable, male, beast.

You remember it as if it had happened in reality. You ran through the forest, your clothes were torn little by little as you collided with the branches of the dry trees. you hide behind a tree enough to cover your body. You closed your eyes. Your heart gave millions of beats per second. And then, as if your body felt it. He was standing in front of you. And you, even with your eyes closed, felt how his great and bestial hand caressed your body...

A strange noise makes you wake up from your thoughts. It's night, and you're still alone walking through the woods looking for your father.

You just hope he's okay.

In the distance, a large object, which is illuminated by the moon, becomes visible before you. Your eyes widen in shock. It's your father's carriage.

You quickly approach and desperate you begin to shout:

“Father? Father are you there!?".

But there is no answer. The carriage is wrecked. On the right side, there are some fine lines marked. As if someone or something had scratched it. Suddenly, a large shadow passes in front of you, alerting all your senses in less than a thousandth of a second. You, desperate and scared, start running, going back the way you came from. Or so you think because it's too dark for you to notice. The great shadow seems to haunt you. Your whole body feels it.

Not daring to look back, you continue and continue running until just a few meters away, a large tree appears in your visual field, and without thinking, you sneak behind it and close your eyes. If there is someone chasing you, they will surely lose sight of you. But how wrong you are... A great shadow rises in front of you, and without daring to open your eyes, you start running again, only, having your eyes closed, you are not aware that there is a stone, and before you could react, your body falls to the ground and everything turns black.

"My sweet daughter, please wake up." You feel a voice from far away.

Slowly, you start to open your eyes as the voice becomes clearer. In front of you is your father, who carries big dark circles under his eyes. You get up without hesitating and hug him.

"Dad! You are alive! Oh, thank you! You are okay," you take a look at his form. His clothes are dirty, and torn, as if someone had scratched him "Wha-what happened? Who hurt you?" you ask, concerned.

"You don't worry about that hun, why did you come here alone? I told you to call the gua-"

A loud throat clearing interrupts your father, who quickly takes you by the arms and runs you, staying behind him.

"She didn't do anything, don't kill her." He says scared of the big shadow hiding in the dark.

“Shut up!” The big shadow now stands in front of your father, and you can't believe it.

He is the one from your dream—the beast.

You do not let out a single word, nor sigh, but how your body is shaking at his presence, clearly shows how scared you are of him. But is it fear that you feel?

"Stupid man, don't you see why you are here?" The big beast lets out a smirk, "You were just bait. A bait to attract what I really want." his penetrating gaze travels quickly to you.

Your father seems to realize that because the way he slowly puts you behind him shows it.

"You won't lay a hand on her, Never!" He spat the last word harshly.

"Then I'm afraid I will have to kill you." The big arms of the beast try to junk away your father from you, but you instinctively stand in front of him. Stopping what he is about to do.

"No! Please wait!” you put your hand up as if that could serve as a shield from preventing the beast to take another step. “Don't kill him, please! I-I'll go with you, just-just don't kill him"

Your father tries to talk to you but you stop him giving him a quick look, silent telling him not to do anything.

“I'll stay on one condition,” you take a deep breath, “Let him go. Alive.” You lower your head as you say it. The penetrating gaze of the beast provokes something in you that you still can't figure out what, or why...

You do this for your father. You do this for your father, you repeat yourself mentally.

The great sigh of relief you breathed when the beast strangely agreed to let your father go.

And even though you would have liked to have hugged him goodbye, you should have been content to see him dragged away from you, outside the castle, while you watched from the castle gate.

Apparently, the beast owns this old and great castle...

And now you find yourself in this great room, standing in front of a great bed, and on top of it, a small box embroidered with your name.

How was he able to know my name?

Doubtful, you open the box, and in it, there is a large note that read: put it on. And without waiting any longer, you stir the box to see what was inside. Your eyes can't believe what they are seeing.

A light knock at the bedroom door makes you jump a little. A slight forward is emitted from your lips.

The instructions were clear. Behind the note that was inside the box there were also two clear indications:

1. Sit in the chair in front of the window.

2. Blindfold.

And this is how you are now, as you listen to the door open.

"Hello?" you ask. Although it is a stupid question because you already know who he is. Him.

Obviously, you don't get an answer, but you do feel how close he is to you.

“You look beautiful,” He says. “Like in my dream.”

"What dream?” your words seem to tremble at the confession. "Have you also dreamed of me?"

You try to get up so you can look at his face, silly of you, because you forgot you were wearing the blindfold. But the fall to the ground never arrives. Large arms support you, preventing the fall.

"Calm down, calm down." the voice comforts you. "Don't tremble, I won't hurt you." The beast's voice emanates sincerity.

His arms lift you up, you emitting a small moan at the action, as they take you to the bed, where you are gently deposited on top of it and immediately afterward the blindfold that covers your eyes is untied. And after so long, you can see him up close.

He is sitting across from you, his eyes seeming tiny before his large features. But nevertheless, that seems to turn you on.

The beast's eyes don't seem to waste time, as they cover your body from top to bottom, with admiration but also with lust. Instinctively your hands try to do what they can to cover your body.

The beast denies and, gently, its hands are positioned on top of yours, detaching them from your body.

"I won't hurt you."

"How can I be sure of that? You kid-kidnapped my father!” You exclaim ignoring his gaze.

"I wasn't going to hurt him, I didn't mean to" The beast sighs. "Everything was for you to come."

Her words confuse you. "What?”

"I saw you in my dreams. You helped me heal."

Your eyebrows knit together, "Heal?"

The beast nods. "To become human again...My name is Ari and I...I have been the prince of this castle for as long as I can remember..." He pauses before continuing. Telling this seems to affect him. "But my greed and ego made a mistake and cursed me, turned me into this!" he says getting up angrily, turning his back on you. And after a few seconds, he seems to give up, “Help me, please…”

You get up and slowly walk towards him. Your delicate hand rests on his shoulder, motioning for him to turn around. And it's what he does. Both are face to face, his eyes connected with yours. The hand that was on his shoulder now rests on his large, bare chest. You nod, giving him to understand that you are going to help him. “Just tell me what to do…” you whisper.

The beast—Ari, with his hands, enclose your face between them and bring you closer to his lips. You stand on your toes quickly since he is much taller and bigger. Your eyes close when you feel the touch of his lips with yours. His tongue quickly asks for passage, something that becomes messy, because no one had ever kissed you, much less done that with you. You were only able to write it thanks to your imagination but, god... this is so much better.

Quickly you both move until you collapse on the bed, he remains on top of you, holding on with one hand to avoid crushing you while the other remains on your cheek. After a few minutes, Ari separates his lips from yours, a fine line of saliva peeling off both of them, cutting in the middle of the separation. His hands now run and caress your body.

"It's perfect for you. Beautiful.” he says referring to what you are wearing. A fine yellow lingerie set covers your beloved body, highlighting your qualities. And it's not like you were going to tell him, maybe not yet, but when you saw yourself in the mirror, you felt a surge of confidence. Well, if there was something that the beast had, it was good taste.

You let out a thin chuckle, your eyes traveling over his bare chest. He was only wearing big pants.

One of the beast's hands is positioned above your femininity. A small wet patch is present on this one. He smiles when he feels it and begins to put a little pressure on that area. Your giggle quickly turns into a moan. A wave of electricity warms up your body in no time. Everything in you asks for more of his touch. Your pelvis rises a bit, signaling him not to stop.

This time it is you who decides to take control of him, joining your lips with his again, intertwining your hands behind his great neck, drawing him closer to you. With his big hand, Ari breaks the fine cloth that covers your precious femininity, and without warning his mouth travels there, fiercely devouring your pussy. The sensation you feel generated by his beard between your feminine lips is incredible. A finger enters your inner walls without difficulty because of how lubricated you are there still, you shuddered in pain, and Ari realizes and lubricates the area even more, murmuring meanwhile to you to be calm and that it's only temporary.

Ari was right. You lost count of how much time has passed, but Ari has been so patient with you, it's amazing to think that this man, who turned into a beast, would take the time to make you feel comfortable, to prepare your femininity.

And now you are ready. Everything in you feels it.

You told Ari how you wanted to do it, and he didn't object.

Sitting on top of him, your hands on your chest, and with all his cock inside you, you move up and down. The sound of both skins colliding, the moans, the scent of sex in the room, everything fits perfectly.

Ari quickly grabs you by the waist to take control, further speeding up his penetrations.

Your moans are getting shorter from all the pleasure you are feeling, and you no longer know where that strength comes from to emit them. This is better than your nights alone. A hundred times better.

For Ari to enter you like this, for him to have been so gentle, is a combination of pleasure that cannot be described.

A knot seems to form in your stomach. Ari notices because he feels how your insides contract, making his member tighten a little, turning him on even more.

Ari takes your body and lays it on his chest, your face is hidden between his neck and shoulder.

You both move haphazardly. You looking for your climax and him for his. But at the same time, both are going to come to the same thing. Your grip on his arms intensifies more. Ari hides his head on your shoulder sucking on a bit of skin until… The ferocious moan they both let out is inhuman. Both reached the climax.

The great jet of hot liquid that you feel inside you tempers your interior. You let out a big sigh. Fine drops of perspiration fall from their bodies.

You are the first to get up from his chest, without removing his member from yours, when you feel how Ari's body changes.

In front of you is no longer that great and enormous beast, but rather a man. And even though he's still so much bigger than you, Ari looks more human. His face is no longer full of hair. But rather only one fraction of it is adorned with a beard.

You and Ari smile. He hugs you and doesn't move away from you, but rather he stays inside and strokes your hair, whispering to you:

“Thank you…”

THE END.

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upindreamland · 2 years ago

Text

Obvious - Chris Evans

Chris Evans x fem!victoria secret model reader (she/her pronouns) oneshot

Request: a request where reader is famous victoria secret model and she is married to chris evans (fluff)

Italics mean flashback

Warnings: None. Just a lot of fluff. Please let me know if I missed anything.

AN: I hope you like it. I tried my best to mention the model aspect of it so I hope it’s what you were looking for. Please enjoy! (also I made the tweet gif myself so it’s not the best…)

-----------------------

Y/N'S POV

Once I got inside our house, I let out a long sigh while finally being able to put down my bags. Taking in the scene around me, it looked exactly the same as Chris and I left it before our trip. Deciding to leave my suitcases near the front door I made my way up to our bedroom. Knowing how I needed time to relax, Chris dropped me off and went to buy some groceries for this week.

Once I made it to the bedroom, I changed out of my airport clothes and into some sweats and a baggy t-shirt. Laying on my side of the bed, I decided to scroll through Twitter to waste some time before Chris got home. While scrolling, one tweet caught my eye:

Wondering exactly what they were talking about I clicked on the replies. One reply had attached the clip:

Seeing the way Chris was looking at me made me fall in love with him even more. Since the beginning of my career, I thought that if I were to date someone, they would only see the Victoria Secret Model side of me. I was scared that they wouldn’t accept the other parts of me that weren’t the perfect model they see in public. I’m glad that I was able to find someone who has looked at me the same way as he did when he first saw me all those years ago. I was getting flashbacks to a scenario just like this - the time when Chris and I first met.

I was sitting outside in the backyard feeling out of place at a party at some famous person’s house that I didn’t even know. There were still a good amount of people around me but not as many as there were inside. Looking up at the sound of someone clearing their voice I’m shocked to see Chris Evans standing right in front of me. Chris emerged into the spotlight a couple of months before me when “Not Another Teen Movie” came out.

“Is this seat taken?” Chris said pointing to the seat next to me.

Recovering from my shock I shake my head no.

“You don’t know the host either huh?” He asked.

“Was it that obvious?” I ask, feeling my cheeks heat up.

“Kind of. You’re Y/N right?”

“You… You know my name?”

“I mean yeah why wouldn’t I? You have been all over the magazines as the up and coming Victoria Secret model. I should be asking you how you know me…”

“Who said I knew you?”

“Oh darling don’t act coy. Your face said it all when I came over here.”

“Oh sorry I confused you with that hot dude named Jake Wyler in that one movie.”

“So you think I’m hot?”

“I never said that!”

The rest of the night went by super fast. Chris and I just sat there talking about everything and anything. It was relieving talking to someone who understood the craziness of being young and becoming famous so quickly.

Feeling my phone buzz I looked down to see that my manager was texting me to remind me that I had a shoot tomorrow and I should head back home soon. Feeling disappointed that I would have to end our conversation I looked up at Chris and said

“Sorry to have to cut this short but I have to get going, I have a photo shoot in the morning.”

Something flashed across Chris’ face when I said that.

Before I could figure it out he responded with: “Oh okay. Bye”

Waiting to see if he would say anything else, he went to open up his mouth but quickly closed it. When he opened it again he said, “Hope to see you again soon”

And with that I walked away. Not knowing when I would be able to see him again.

The next day my best friend texted me a link to an article. Opening it up I was surprised to see my name along with Chris’ name on the title. Scanning through the article there was a recording of Chris and I last night at the party. Some time during our conversation someone recorded Chris and I talking to each other. More specifically it was me talking about whatever and Chris looking at me with so much adoration. Feeling bummed knowing that I wouldn’t be able to see him again I went through my day getting ready for my photo shoot.

While on the way to the studio, I decided to stop by my favorite coffee shop, The Little Cafe. I didn’t know why at the time but while I was about to open the door, I got nervous. Turns out that this coffee shop was going to be the place where my relationship with Chris would start.

When I opened up the door, I was immediately struck with the smell of freshly ground coffee beans. Ordering my drink and sitting down to wait, a shadow came over me. Looking up I was shocked.

“Funny seeing you here” Chris said.

“Definitely, I didn’t expect to run into you here. I was just thinking about you.” I responded.

“Oh you've been thinking of me?” He said with a small smirk forming on his face.

Rather than trying to explain it to him, I decided to pull my phone out and show the article my friend sent me.

“Oh wow I didn’t know I was that obvious”. He responded after the video was over.

“What do you mean?” I asked confused.

“Well for starters I thought you were really pretty and wanted to get to know you. While you were talking I couldn’t help but get lost in how normal our exchange felt.”

I was speechless.

“Then, when you told me you had to leave I was trying to find the courage to ask for your number but I got scared. I’ve been beating myself up over it all night. Now that you are here though, I’m not going to let that happen again. So can I get your number and maybe if you’re up for it go out on a date with me?”

I was even more speechless. Not knowing what to say, I just nodded and handed him my phone. When he handed it back to me I didn’t know what to say. I went to respond but was pulled out of the moment when my phone started ringing with my manager's name on the screen. Sending him a disappointed smile I promised to text him and answered the phone call.

Ever since then, it’s been history.

“Y/N?”

Taken out of my flashback I realized that Chris was now standing in front of me.

“Are you okay?”

“Huh? Oh yeah I’m fine I was just scrolling through Twitter.”

“Uh oh. What happened this time?” Chris asked, worry written all over his face.

“Nothing bad this time. It’s just a clip of you at the show.”

“Oh really. Let me see.”

Showing it to him I could see a blush rising to his cheeks.

“Huh I guess I’m still pretty obvious when it comes to how much I love you.” Chris said.

Now it was my turn to blush. I was at a loss for words once again. Through the ups and downs of both of our careers - like not seeing each other for weeks on end due to both of our busy schedules, - he has still stuck by my side and supported me no matter what. He still looks at me with that same type of adoration he had the first time we met at the party. I couldn’t have chosen a better husband to be there to support me while I do what I love.

“Come on downstairs. I got you coffee from The Little Cafe while I was out.”

I will never fall out of love with this man.

-----------------

AN: THE END!! I hope you enjoyed it. Sorry if it’s all over the place. Also thank you for the request. This will be my first one ever.

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hiddenwritingsintheworld · 5 months ago

Text

Midnight Rain Ch. 3

Rich Mans World Series | Man After Midnight Series | Chapter 2 | Donations | Thoughts & Feelings

“It’s nice to meet you Steve,” you shook his hand before furrowing your brows. “Steve Rogers….I know that name….did you grow up around here?” you asked before smiling. “Im Y/N Y/L/N ...oh well Y/N Evans now…um, well….” you held a confused face before smiling. “It's complicated…” he grinned and nodded. “I did, I know your father, we actually grew up together, well kinda, I mean when we were younger we played together.” he smiled. You laughed a little, “Yeah, that's right you were scrawny,” he chuckled and nodded, a tint of red covering his cheeks, “sounds like I made an impression on you then.” You smiled and nodded, “You were pretty nice, how's life been treating you?” you asked as he shrugged, “alright, I uh, broke up with my girlfriend about a year ago, moved back here to start over in a more comfortable setting.” you nodded as he reached into his pocket. “You should call me sometime, we could go get coffee together, catch up,” he handed you a card.

You gently took it, before you could even realize what you were doing or saying you nodded, “Yeah, that sounds great actually.” you smiled softly as he grinned. “Great! Hey, I gotta head out but I’ll talk to you soon yeah?” you nodded “yeah, it was great seeing you,” you smiled as he leant down and pecked your cheek before winking at you and walking away. You watched him go, staring over every inch of him. “What the fuck was that?” Brooke asked, causing you to jump and look at her. “Brooke, Jesus you scared me…” you said, taking a breath before she started in. “So this morning, you’re cuddled up in bed with your husband and now this afternoon you’re getting kissed by men in a store?!” You glared at her. “I grew up with Steve, he’s an old friend.” you walked up tossing your basket into her cart, “and lets not forget what my “husband” did to me. Had he not been out screwing anything with two legs and a pussy, maybe my baby wouldn’t have died because my husband would have been there to protect me and her.” you glared at Brooke, something in you this morning had just...clicked back in place. Maybe it was Chris, maybe it was seeing him treating you so delicately, you didn’t know, but that mourning and grieving stage was over, you’d officially moved on to the anger stage of your grief.

See, that’s the thing about grief…there's 5 stages to it. Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression, and Acceptance. Everyone plays it off as if these 5 stages happen to you in some certain order. Like “oh! I’ve moved on from depression! Now I'm in acceptance.” But for you, that wasn’t the case. Your first stage was acceptance. When you woke up in the hospital you accepted what had happened to you and your baby. You knew it was some evil son of a bitch who was probably after Chris and wanted to hurt him. Your first stop would be the Irish, seeing how they wanted to ensure Chris felt some kind of pain for how Tristan was done. Your second stage was depression, you remained depressed for months and even now, you knew you were officially in the anger stage.

You turned, walking away from her and heading out of the store toward the car, Brooke watched after you, concern filling her features. What was going on with you? This sudden change in you had her nervous, were you diving off the official deep end?

You stood out by the car, pulling your phone out and dialing the number off Steve's card, “Hey! It’s Y/N, I was going to see if you wanted to get coffee tomorrow? If so, just either text or call me and we can set up a time.” you smiled and ended the call leaving him a voicemail. You looked around, watching people walk around the parking lot, coming and going to the store, you sighed. All you had wanted was a normal, simple life. You knew being with a mobster would never, ever, be a normal life, but you had hoped with Chris everything would be different.

Brooke came out a few minutes later and began to load the bags into the car. You held your hand out after helping her. She looked at you, raising an eyebrow. “What?” She asked with a slight attitude. “Keys.” you said, staring at her. “What? No, this is my car!” she looked shocked you’d even asked. You however, raised an eyebrow. “I’m sorry, whose car is this?” you asked, narrowing your eyes. Brooke cleared her throat, “Sorry it's technically your car, but I’ve been driving it for so long now it just feels like my car, but I think you shouldn’t drive yet.” she said as you shook your head. “Sorry Brooke, I’m back, now give me my keys so we can get our asses back to work.” she stared at you nervously as she handed you the keys.

Chris sat at the kitchen island, drinking a cup of coffee and wondering what switched in you, suddenly you were ready to get up and go to the store? Bucky had explained that since you’d come back to their apartment you hadn’t done anything regarding leaving the house. He wondered if you were feeling more like yourself since the two of you had reconnected on some level. He smiled softly, hoping to hear from you today. Maybe he’d invite you out for dinner one night this week. He’d have to see when he had a free night, he had several new clubs opening and needed to make an appearance at them.

Chris was beginning to have some hope that, maybe one day you’d be back in his arms, living here at home with him again. You’d be allowed to properly mourn the loss of your child and he’d be there to comfort you, while also mourning himself. He didn’t understand who would have done such a horrid thing. He called Anthony and Sebastian, telling them he wanted to meet with them whenever they were free that day. He began planning a security detail to watch over you. He then wanted to start looking into each and every person that had come into contact with the two of you since you’d married him.

Chris smiled to himself, so maybe you didn’t want to get divorced after all, maybe now you two would be a family again. He would find who had hurt you, who had hurt your baby, his sweet little girl, and he would make them pay. He would remind the world of who he was, what he was capable of. He would burn the entire world to the ground if that meant you would come back to him. All he wanted was for you to come back home.

You drove around, taking calls, making stops. Brooke was texting Sebastian, telling him every move you were making. “That’s fine, I can work with that. Tell him I want to meet face to face. I dont give a shit if he’s busy! I’m trying to find out who murdered my child!” you yelled. “Now text me with the god damn details or your head is next on my fucking platter!” you hung up the phone throwing it in the backseat with anger. “Maybe we should head home now Y/N, Sebastian wants to start on dinner and plus, it was a big day! You got back to your old self, maybe a nice hot bubble bath and a glass of wine? Sounds pretty good huh? And, we can even get into work mode for tomorrow.” Brooke said as you huffed. “Relax Brooke, I’m not crazy, I’ve just realized it's time to get back to work and get this shit figured out.” you said, glancing at her. Your phone buzzed in the back seat as you headed back toward Brooke and Sebastian's place.

Steve had texted you, telling you he was absolutely free to meet for coffee, and he wanted to meet up with you at 11am, which worked out perfect for you because you could get your life back on track. You stood in your bedroom staring at the sight before you. You began packing up boxes, labeling them as donations or keep before moving down the hallway to the door that hadn’t been opened in months.

You opened the door, revealing the stuffy and slightly dusty light pink nursery; boxes sat unmade against the wall with packing tape and bubble wrap sitting in front of them. You looked at the dresser, the small pink urn sat in the middle. You purse your lips looking around before taking a deep breath and stepping inside, closing the door gently behind you. It was time you started healing, and this was the first step.

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