#chris evans reader inserts

[sweetsbfreex]

who loves you

summary: a four month long situationship with Ari goes south when you see a text you shouldn't have

pairing: college!hockey player!ari x situationship/fwb!reader

warnings: none?

-

Fuck. You felt refreshed and blissed out as you sat up and stretched. Watching Ari’s bare, fit body disappear into his bathroom. 

It always surprised you how he showers without his phone because that meant he showered with no music. You couldn’t imagine taking a shower without music, how else would you fulfill your popstar dreams. But alas, Ari was different from a lot of the guys you’ve previously been with. 

You drop back against his bed, smiling at the ache between your legs. Ari was a lot of things and a sex god was definitely one of them. 

The incessant buzzing from a phone..his phone jerks you from your blissed out state.

Bzz-bzz

Ignore. 

Bzz-bzz

Ignore.

Bzz-bzz

Okay, what the hell?

You grab his phone beside you, it comes to life when you lift it. 

Joy ;)

—Meet you in the parking lot after? My place?

—I’ll wear the special panties with your number on them

You squint as more texts roll in. Special panties? Her place? The fucking winky emoji by her name?

What. The. Fuck. 

You stare in disbelief for who knows how long, feeling a little hurt and naive. 

“Why is my phone in your hand?”

Ari stands at the end of his bed. A towel wrapped around his hips as he runs another through his shoulder length hair. Your eyes can’t really help to worship the droplets over his chest. 

“Who’s Joy?” You push out the question. 

You can see something change in Ari as he walks over and takes his phone from your grasp. “None of your business, why are you snooping around”

You scoff, “I wasn’t snooping! It kept buzzing and I thought it was an emergency or something. Who’s Joy?” you question again, annoyed at the way he’s avoiding your question. 

“I don’t appreciate you looking through my phone. And she’s none of your fucking buisness, so drop it”

You stare up at him, subconsciously lifting his sheet to cover your bare chest. 

“You’re having sex with other people?” you accuse, and deep down you're confident you know the answer, but that naive part of you is hoping it’s all a misunderstanding. 

“And if I am? We’re just fucking around too. Are we not?”

Your breath stutters at his admission. Although the two of you have never stated terms of this…relationship, his actions have always spoken louder than words. Everyone thought the two of you were together. Even though he’s never formally asked you to be his girlfriend, you always had an inkling that he would at some point.

Your stomach flips thinking of his protectiveness over you, the way he’d always pay if he was there, and the way he goes out of his way to check up on you after his practices. Or the way you’re always there for him at every game, his number and name on your back as you cheer him on. 

Shit, even the sex was anything unlike a pair of friends. It always felt intimate between the two of you. Your toothbrush stood next to his in his bathroom, and yours, for Christ sakes. 

“Are you being serious right now?”

Ari shrugs. Fucking shrugs at your question.

“Y/n, I don’t understand why you’re upset. In no way have I ever committed myself to you.”

That stings. 

“You really don’t see it, do you?” You mutter, trying to blink away the tears forming in your eyes. 

“I don’t.” 

“Fuck you, Ari.” You seethe, dressing yourself with speed. “Have fun with Joy.” You tell him, buttoning your jeans, and gathering your shoes in your hand. Anything to get out of this humiliating scenario. 

You shove your way past Ari’s confused figure. Which stops you as he grabs your elbow, “I’m not understanding what the big deal is? You’re telling me you haven’t been sleeping around.” 

You remove your elbow from his grasp, “No. I haven’t. And if I did, I’d at least have the decency to let you know.” And with that, you’re out of the room. 

Ari stands there for at least a minute, disgruntled and confused with what the fuck just happened. He shakes his head trying to figure out whatever the fuck he was missing. 

-

“You’re a fucking idiot, a moron if you will. Maybe a dodo would fit better?—” Ransom laughs to himself as relaxes in his spot in the frats living room, snacking on his favorite biscuit cookies. 

“Ran,” Steve interrupts the way Ransom isn’t helping. Softly shaking his head in reprimandment. “Now isn’t the time.”

Ransom only shrugs, and looks back to the television. 

“I hate to say it, man. But Ransom is right, the only answer was in front of you the whole time.” Sam tosses in his opinion, clapping Ari on the back.

“Well what the fuck is it? Why is no one saying what I’m missing?”

“She likes you, Levinson.” Bucky answers, walking through the living room and out the door, his key to his motorcycle swirling around a finger. He didn’t need to know the full conversation to know what exactly was going on. He would’ve stayed to watch the aftermath, but he had a certain spicy redhead waiting for him at her apartment

Ari doesn’t mean to sound dramatic, but he quite literally feels the world tilt on its axis at the discovery. He’s admired you for a while, but never in his mind did he think he was the right guy for you. He’s seen the guys you’ve dated before and they were the complete opposite. 

Intelligent, brainy, in tons of clubs, they wouldn’t do stupid shit like fighting on ice skates because it’s fun. They were guys who any mother would love.

Fuck. He can’t believe this, there’s no way. 

“What—“ 

“Dude, you can’t be so blind, to not see how in love with you she basically is,” Ransom says around a mouth full of cookies. “The sex is probably great, but you think a chick like her is gonna wanna be around you without an ounce of admiration.” 

“I think what Ransom is trying to say is: there’s a lot of telling that y/n has feelings for you, and I’m pretty sure her getting offended that you’re sleeping with other people is a big one.” Steve says. 

“Fuck.” Ari groans, running his hand down his face and over his scruff.

“How would you feel if y/n told you she was screwing someone else?”  Sam asks. 

“Livid.” 

Sam snaps his finger pointing at the dark look already on Ari’s face. “There you go.” 

“Fuck. She’s not even answering my calls. What the hell am I supposed to do?” 

“Give her time to cool. If anything, maybe she’ll be at the game?” Steve offers.

“Maybe,” Ari mutters.

-

But you never picked up a single call and for some reason, even picked up that Ari thought of swinging by your apartment. You had texted him to leave you alone.

And then Saturday rolled around…

-

“How long have you been into hockey? I’d never take you up as a sports girl. Sorry that sounded terrible—“ 

“It’s okay, Jake.” You laugh. “Not until this year, you’re right I’m not really into sports at all. What about you?”

“I really got into it with my dad, we used to watch every game together if we could,” he smiles at the memories. 

“That’s really sweet,” you smile back, placing your hand over his. 

Jake Jensen is a computer science major you befriended over your French class last semester. But the both of you basically ran in the same social groups, leading to you guys staying friends. 

When talking about the upcoming game, you had let it slip that you passed the deadline to donate your ticket, and couldn’t find anyone to sell it to. Leaving you to go to the game alone or getting a strike. 

Jake was kind enough to let you join him. You would’ve joined Natasha and the others, but it felt too weird to you and you wanted no chance running into Ari. Especially since you weren’t wearing his jersey like you usually do. 

You haven’t spoken to him all week, minus the small text you sent, and you refused to. Even though he had tried non stop to run into you on campus. 

“Have you—“ Jake starts, but is interrupted by the commentators introducing the team. Everyone stood up and cheered at the sight of the school’s players. 

-

Ari skates out with a smile on his face, lifting a hand in the air as he waves and joins the line of his teammates. As he does so, he tries to find you, but it’s hard to distinguish you among the wave of people in the stadium. Especially since you weren’t seated in your undesignated-designated seat closer to the rink. 

But he shakes it off, putting himself in the right mindset for the game. 

-

“Ladies and gentlemen, it’s time for our favorite time of the night: THE KISS CAM!” 

Some players skate and others like Ari, watch the Jumbotron during the brief break.

The first is an elderly couple, then a pair of random strangers who kiss under the playful pressure, two pairs of students, parents with their children who dramatically gag. That makes everyone chuckle, including himself.

They go around the stadium one last and he cannot fucking believe it. His hand becomes around his stick.

He can feel his teammates staring at him in sympathy. But Ari cannot look away from the Jumbotron. 

The first thing he notices is your flustered smile, that you came to the game sans his jersey, and the most noticeable of all is the dork sitting next to you with his arm behind your seat, looking just as bashful.

He’s livid. You’ve been avoiding him all week, probably doing who knows what with this guy. 

-

“You know what you gotta do,” teases the commentator. You laugh behind the back of your hand. Jake sits beside you just as flustered, scratching his eyebrow with his thumb.

In no way is he against kissing Y/n, but he also doesn’t want to make her uncomfortable. 

“C’mon folks!”

You stare at Jake, shrugging a shoulder in question. Jake only smiles back before sitting up straighter. The both of you go to lean in. Your lips press softly against his until a loud smack of temper glass breaks it up. 

The two of you jolt away at the sound of a disgruntled voice. You look to see Ari, “hey!” His voice booms. “Back the fuck off my girl!” 

“What— who is he?” Jake’s eyebrows knit together as he points towards the enraged giant pointing a menacing finger towards him. 

“An asshole who doesn’t know what he wants.” You answer, shaking your head towards Ari before you place a kiss on Jake’s cheek. 

You watch as Ari stands behind the plexiglass. And even though you’re about eight rows back, you can see the confused and upset expression on his face. A pinch in his eyebrows and a pitiful glare in his eyes. 

“I’m really sorry about that, Jake.” 

“It’s nothing, don't worry.” He smiles, “Do you want popcorn or anything?”

“Sour patch kids, if that’s alright.”

“No problem.”

You look at anywhere but Ari during the rest of the brief intermission. 

-

Ari 🏒🦁

—Meet me outside the locker room

—Please?

You sigh as you grab your stuff. Just before the two of you reach outside the stadium, you gain Jake’s attention. 

“I’m really sorry to cut our hangout short, but I had a lot of fun. I just have to handle something really quickly.”

Jake tries not to show the disappointment on his face, “I’m gonna rightfully assume it has something to do with that ‘asshole who doesn’t know what he wants’?”

“Unfortunately,” you smile ruefully. 

“Okay,” he nods his head. “I hope everything goes well. I’ll see you around?” 

“Definitely,” you hug him before you make your way outside the doors of the locker rooms, with no trouble which you can guess is because of Ari. 

You smile awkwardly at the glances of Ari’s teammates. You hate that everyone has seen that happen and you assume most of his teammates know the intimate details of what’s gone down between you two. Which only adds another layer of unnecessary awkwardness. Time passes before you feel a light tap on your shoulder, looking up to see Steve at your side, a timid grin. 

“The locker is all cleared out, he’s in there waiting for you.” 

“Thanks, Steve.”

-

“Ari?” You walk in to him tying his sweatpants.

He turns around with a mournful look on his face. His sweatpants low enough that you can see the bands of his Calvin’s; he’s shirtless so his six pack is on display and glistening from his shower; his hair is disheveled, but the ends still curl at the ends; and he has a towel thrown over shoulder. 

You can ask any women how they could not be hung up on a guy as attractive as him. 

“Hey,” he sends a small smile, making his way towards you. 

“Wait—“ you interrupt, “We cannot have this conversation if you’re shirtless.”

He won’t argue, but he does as you’ve said and throws on some ratty t shirt in his locker. He sits on the bench in front of his locker, patting the spot next to you. 

You sit beside him, making sure to keep some distance between you two. 

“I see you’re not wearing your jersey?” 

The audacity of men will always surprise you.

“Your jersey and is that really the first thing you want to talk about?” 

“You’re right…” warily his hand grabs yours and when he sees you won’t retract from him, he brings it his plush lips. “I’m really sorry, Y/n. Seriously.”

“What you said Sunday was totally uncalled for and spiteful— and where do you get off announcing to practically the whole state that I'm your girl? And You embarrassed poor Jake for nothing.”

“It wasn’t for nothin’ and the douche will be fine.” He staggers at the fire in your eyes. “Sorry, I’m sorry.” 

“That seems to be the only thing you can say,” you huff. You turn to him, needing to know the answer to this. “Are you really sleeping with other people?”

He notices how small your voice is as you ask. 

He sighs and looks down for a little, before tightening the grasp of your hand. “I was.” 

You stand up while trying to get Ari to let go of your hand. The last thing you want is for him to see the tears begging to fall. 

Ari stands with you in haste, bringing his other hand to palm your cheek as he looks down at you. Those piercing blue eyes saying so many things at once. “Was. I was. Listen, I haven’t slept with anyone else other than you since last month. It was a moment of weakness and you can’t be mad at me for it. We’ve never made anything official, baby.” 

“Do you even care about me? At all.” 

It feels vulnerable and desirous, but you’re unsure how you can continue without asking. 

“What? Did tonight not show you that?” 

You go to argue, but he cuts you off before you can start. 

Both his hands cup your face while his thumb draws circles on the apple of your cheekbones. 

“I love you.”

Your breath picks up at his admission. 

“It’s been months coming, but you gotta know since our first night together I haven’t slept with anyone other than Joy and that was only once. And I didn’t think I could tell you because.. I’m just not the guy you typically go for, Y/n. But I guess that was my own insecurities playing a part of that. I’m rambling and i probably sound like Steve after he takes one hit. But I promise I’ve admired you for so long and it has never been just sex to me. I don’t want my stupid mistake to get in the way of us trying correctly this time.” 

You swing your arm over the back of his neck and pull him in a kiss, your other hand fists his shirt. 

He lags at first before his brain catches up and he’s kissing you back harder. He tilts his head just a smidge like he always does and one of his hands comes up to cup the back of your head. You feel his other hand cup the side your body. His hand roams up and down before he’s slipping it behind you to squeeze your ass. You moan into him, pressing your body closer to him. 

Both your breaths pick up and you know you need a breather. So you pull away in a blur. 

“I love you too.”

He smiles at your admission. One of those adorable, rare smiles not many get to see from the broody man. 

You smack his arm and he grabs it with a questioning look. 

“But I’m still really pissed at you and I’m not letting you off easy.”

“Even if I ask you to be my girlfriend?” He snakes his brawny arms around your waist, pulling you closer as he ducks to kiss your cheek. 

“Even then,” you giggle, turning his head for a kiss. “And that’s a yes.” 

-

a/n: it's been so long, hi!!! sorry i disappeared

if you enjoyed pls don’t forget to reblog or give feedback 💗

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[onsunnyside]

🍓° 𝐌𝐞𝐥𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠

𝗣𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 | Mafia!Ari Levinson x lovesick!reader

𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 | fluff, sweet soft!reader, she’s a little oblivious. size difference: 6’8!Ari, he’s a total beefy hunk. neighbours au, a little tumble, stripper!reader, brief mentions of mafia business, undeniable daddy energy.

𝗦𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 | It was a little ridiculous how in love you were… With a single glance, he could make you melt until you’re a pile strawberry ice cream, tied with a pretty ribbon, and sitting on his doorstep.

𝐨𝐧 𝐀𝐎𝟑

𝗪/𝗖 | 2.45K

𝗔/𝗡 | just a little something I wrote inspired by Melting by Kali Uchis (also where the title is from). this is my first mafia fic but there isn’t much detail since this is a real itty bitty au. as always, all mistakes are my own. [all posts/asks]

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 𝐅𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 & 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐨𝐧 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲: @𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲

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

Time seems to slow when he jogs by, clad in shorts and a loose tank top with sweat seeping through the grey. His tan skin is covered in a light sheen, making the dozens of tattoos appear darker. From your seat on the porch, they still look like black blobs and lines stretching from his broad shoulders to his hands. 

You’ve never seen them up close, but you have a few ideas of what they might be—a whole page in your diary to be exact. 

Your eyes fall to his muscled legs, firm and thick thighs strain his shorts and just the beginnings of dark ink poke from underneath the fabric. You barely notice the ice cream melting down the cone to your hands, too deep in a daze when tingles blossom from your chest to your toes. A dreamy sigh flows from your lips as the wind flutters through his long brown hair, brushing along his bearded cheeks. 

He turns to you and flashes a bright smile before turning the corner and disappearing down the street. That single glance makes your heart pound ten times faster, and all of your thoughts tangle into one ball of ribbons, varying in colours, prints and lace, but so evidently you. 

If you could, you’d gift him that mess just so he could know how much he affected you without even trying. 

"Oh no!" You quickly wipe your hands from the melting strawberry ice cream but it's useless, the pink stains your white dress and drips down to the ribbon around your ankle. 

It’s almost too symbolic—the pretty pink bleeds all over your ivory clothes, ruining your life just like the fluttering trapped in your rib cage. 

Honestly, it would’ve been easier to hate him, but he was so damn big that you didn’t have any space left in your heart to hate him. 

To say you're in love would be an understatement. In every fantasy and daydream, he's the main focus, your co-star, your lover, your saviour draped in silk button-ups and silver rings. Oh, he's everything you've ever wanted! As if you manifested him when you were a young child and wrote about the perfect boy to sweep you off your feet and make your life a living fairytale—everything you scribbled in glittery pen has come true before your very eyes.

You don’t even mind that he and his biker friends rev their engines at three in the morning, but your roommate doesn’t agree, she’s never agreed. 

The front door slams shut and you stiffen, hurriedly flipping through a random page in a magazine and desperately trying to act like you were not staring at his house next door. 

"Did you do it?"

"Do what?" You ask, voice already on edge. Vibrant red hair comes into your peripherals, as well as a pair of angry green eyes. 

Natasha groans, setting down her bag on the kitchen counter. "You chickened out again? I need my sleep before I lose my mind. I can’t get any if he and his dumbass friends treat this street like a fucking race track!”

“They aren’t even that loud—and I bought you earplugs.” 

“I am not touching those things until those assholes learn how to be decent human beings!” She rolls up her sleeves and grabs your arm, yanking you from the barstool. 

"Wait! What are you doing!" 

Her heels stomp on the hardwood floor, nearly shaking the picture frames on the walls, “I messed up five drinks today, do you know how bad that looks when they’re my recipes?” She huffs, "he's out there right now mowing his lawn and you're gonna talk to him."

You grab onto the nearest thing which happened to be the couch and clutched it for dear life. “No—you do it!”

"He doesn’t listen to me!" She digs her fingers into your sides making you yelp and feebly swat her away, but you just screwed up big time. “Just try, baby, please! For me!”

That’s the last thing you hear as you stumble out the front door, tripping over the damn welcome mat and tumbling down the stairs. It’s only a few steps, but it stings when your back thumps onto the stone walkway, your poor elbows cushioning your fall.  

You barely catch the engine cutting and rushed footsteps before he appears.��

He stands over you with sweat brimming at his hairline, a deeply concerned expression etched onto his face, "awh shit, are you okay?" 

As always, the air goes thin and you’re under that dumb lovesick spell again. The sun glows around his head like a halo, melting you to the bone, and leaving a mess on the stone in the same shades as your love—strawberry ice-cream pink. 

It’s terrible that you don’t know how deluded your tender heart is.

"You're bleeding," he crouches low, gently examining your elbow, "did your roommate push you down the stairs?” 

"No! No, I-I fell.” Obviously! “But I'm okay." You utter, avoiding the peeping redhead through the curtains. Your gaze lands on his long fingers wrapped around your arm. He’s warm, warmer than you thought. Heat radiates off his body and envelops you like an old friend, familiar and calm. 

"Are you?" He inquires unconvinced, "here, let me clean you up." He leaves no room for protests as he helps you up and leads you to his porch. 

After you sit on the couch, he disappears inside the house before emerging with a large white case. He sits next to you and opens the kit on the table.

"That's a lot of stuff." You note, staring at the packed first aid kit. There are various rolls of gauze, different ointments, and bandages, far more things than your tiny plastic box under the sink. 

Judging by his shiny sports car, and his collection of perfectly tailored suits and watches, Ari lived a very different life than you and you’d do anything to know about it. Your naive heart aches for him so badly it almost hurts. 

“It’s better to be safe than sorry. Can I touch you, sweetheart?” 

You watch him tend to your injury with slow and careful movements, his dark brows knitted in concentration. You’ve never been this close to him, the sudden rush of blood almost makes you lightheaded, but his scent brings you back down. The woody cologne floods your nose, followed by a dash of vanilla with underlinings of musky spice.

“What happened to your other dress?” He glances up, eyes shaded under his thick lashes. 

“Oh… It got dirty.” 

He hums, “what a shame.” He delicately presses down the edges of the bandage. “That’s one of my favourites. It always makes my day to see you wearing it.” 

You swallow down a whimper and clench your thighs, seconds away from dropping to your weak knees. Embarrassment fills your chest, tinged with guilt, “I’m sorry, sir.” The words slip out before you could think.

He cracks a small smile, shaking his head, “it’s okay, just be more careful next time, yeah? Can’t have you ruining the little purple one too, that’s my second favourite.”

Dull thumps hammer inside your head, muffling his raspy voice. You nod silently, digging your sock-clad feet into the concrete. 

You take the chance to memorize his tattoos, from the intricate rose by his wrist following the thorn stems up his arm where they entwined with a heavily shaded skull. Thin script is scattered along his skin, you can’t make out the exact words but they’re in swooping cursive, clinging to his flesh like wet chiffon. 

His arms tighten as he cleans up, the muscles shifting under his paper-thin t-shirt that left nothing to the imagination. Every unconscious flex clouds your head, tunnelling your vision until he’s all you can see.  A small whine sounds from your throat and his eyes flicker to yours, blue as can be. 

“I don’t see you leave very often.” You were either inside or sitting on the front porch with a treat and a magazine, or in the backyard tending to that small garden. “Do you work?”

“I… I did, then I got fired.” The wound was still a little fresh. “But it wasn’t my fault, I swear!”

Ari perks up in interest, although he knows plenty about you, this was strikingly new. Aside from your basic profile, he knew about your past as well, including where you grew up, where your parents lived, and how long you’ve been in this city. 

It was only right to know about the two girls living next to his late grandmother’s house. Curtis insisted since Ari wouldn’t let him stay in the old two-storey home, but instead the house down the street.

He came here to be alone and mourn, but that was hard to do with a cute neighbour always staring at him. Yet he stopped caring after you left a small bouquet of hand-picked flowers on his doorstep and an adorable ‘welcome to the neighbourhood!’ note. 

He forgot how good it felt to be sought after, rather than feared and honoured like a living legend. You gave him that sliver of normalcy with your longing loved-up looks and quick dashes inside when he pulled into the driveway. To you, sweet-spirited you, he was an ordinary guy, not someone with a history coloured in hues of red and dripping all over his shoes, smearing the black ink of his future; an eternity tied to his family’s glory that’s now his. 

“This customer was being so mean and I know I should’ve stayed professional but I was havin’ such a bad day already.” Your bottom lip trembles, flashes of that terrible day flickering through your head, “first I slept through my alarm, then I missed the bus, and my make-up broke in my bag a-and everything was all ruined.”

He reaches out, rubbing your knee soothingly. Poor girl, if it was up to him, you’d never be mistreated. “Where did you work?”

“Venom Vixens.” You sniffle, hoping he isn’t the judgemental type, you’ve known too many people who would humiliate you for your chosen career. “I, uh, I wasn’t one of the girls on stage since I was still new but I liked it there. My coworkers were nice, I got free drinks, and…”

“And?”

“I felt,” you look down at your hands, they were so much smaller than his, “I felt pretty. People go there to look and flirt, and I didn’t mind being on the receiving end of it.” 

Ari wouldn’t mind giving you all of that instead. 

He licks his lips, imagining you in a tiny lace set, the sheer fabric clinging to your figure while you swayed around the dimly lit club. A piece of art in the sea of ogling and drooling patrons, blooming beautifully under the flattery. 

“You liked the attention.” 

You giggle, “Yeah, a lot. Sure, some customers were gross and would say nasty things, but others were nice, real nice—they’d tip a lot and compliment me. Most of them were just lonely, they wanted someone to talk to or someone to spoil.” 

You don’t regret accepting their fawning or expensive gifts, hell, most of your jewelry was from your loyal clients. Sparkly things paired with sweet words were a one-way ticket to your good books. 

“How about your boss?” Ari asks, “how did he treat you?”

Venom Vixens wasn’t only a haven for the lonely or where perverts got their fill, but of course, you wouldn’t know that. You’d have a heart attack if you knew of the shady people who walked in and out of those doors, you’ve probably served a few of them, flashed that bright smile and earned yourself a big tip—unknowingly pocketing the filthy, blood-stained money. 

“Mr. Hansen was very friendly, but everything went through him. If we wanted to change a routine, we had to perform it for him first and get his approval. He said it was protocol.” Ari snorts but you don’t catch it, all too distracted with twisting the ring on his middle finger. “He was nice when you were nice to him.”

“So he must’ve always been kind to you. You’re the loveliest girl I’ve ever met.”

You preen under his praise and nod happily, questioning why you were so nervous around him in the first place.

Ari was a flirt—and you loved being flirted with. 

“Mr. Hansen called me his favourite before he fired me. That was over two weeks ago, and Nat said I could take my time but,” you sigh, “I feel like a bother.” 

He wonders if your best friend would still hate him if she knew he was the reason that her cafe was still standing. Without his ruling over the South district, there would be chaos, and that little joint would’ve been ransacked long ago. 

Did he also call for extra protection because you frequented the establishment? Proudly so. 

“Are you still looking for a job?” He takes your distant hum as a yes, “Do you want to work for me?”

Your head snaps up, your sparkling eyes wide in surprise. 

“I’m opening a new club in a few days and I’ve got a spot left for a performer.” He didn’t, but he had no problem giving someone the boot to make room for you. 

Your mouth opens and closes several times, and the thought of Ari owning a club flies straight over your head. You’ve watched him more than your favourite movie but you still didn’t know a damn thing about him, except that he smokes, liked to work out and alternated between a white mustang and a sleek black motorcycle. 

Oh, and sometimes he changes in front of his bedroom window. 

“You’ll be my boss?”

Say the word, and he’ll be much more than that.

He smirks, gripping your jaw and turning you from side to side, blue eyes flickering over your features, “Sure will. I have a feeling this pretty face will be the main attraction every night.”

Your heart swells when his fingers dig into your cheeks. “I-I would, but Nat won’t like that. She kind of hates you… and your friends.” He adds pressure and your lips pucker, “you’re all s-ho loud wit ya’  bikes ‘n engines.”

Ari bites his tongue, it was either the motorcycles or the blood-curdling screams of the poor soul in the basement. He made a mental note to speed up the process of that soundproof room, he couldn’t have you losing sleep over his business. 

“She doesn’t have to know.” He replies, releasing your face in favour of loosely grasping your throat. Your pulse thumps under his fingers, hard and fast, speeding up as he leans closer, “c’mon, don’t you want to be a star? Get all that attention again and make me proud?”

𝐄𝐧𝐝𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: i just love sweet!readers, they're my faves 🥹 and pairing them with big hunky (secretly soft) men is heaven !! i can't get enough !!!!

𝐒𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞! I love you all very much 😚🫶

As always, I hope you all enjoyed this and I’d love to hear your thoughts/feedback !! <3 — ☼ 𝐃𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐊𝐨-𝐟𝐢 ☼

I don’t do taglists anymore. ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 𝐅𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 & 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐨𝐧 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲: @𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲

#ari levinson #ari levinson x reader #ari levinson fanfic #ari levinson fanfiction #ari levinson au #ari levinson x fem!reader #ari levinson x female reader #mafia ​ari levinson #mafia au #mafia!​ari levinson #ari levinson x you #reader insert #melting au #ari levinson x lovesick!reader #lovesick!reader #sonny’s stories #chris evans #Chris evans fanfic #Chris evans fanfiction #Chris evans characters #chris evans x reader #ari levinson fluff #lovesick reader #tw mafia #ari levinson x Stripper!reader #sweet!reader #ari levinson one shot #red sea diving resort

[krirebr]

More Than This 1

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x f!reader, Steve Rogers & f!reader

Word Count: ~4.1k

Summary: Arranged marriages have always been used to solidify business deals among the ultra-wealthy. Your stepfather wants to be in business with Harlan Thrombey, so now it's your turn.

Warnings: Heavy angst, age difference, adult themes, institutional sexism, a very brief conversation about the possibility of abuse, explicit language, the slooowest burn - Warnings will be added as needed for subsequent parts. All of my work is 18+ - Minors DNI

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

Masterlist

A/N: And here we go! A huge thanks to @drabblewithfrannybarnes for helping me nail down some of the worldbuilding details and @paperweight91 for reading so much of this and especially telling me how to fix the scene that refused to be fixed. You're both the best!!

Any comment, reblog, or ask to let me know what you think will be greatly appreciated. Even if it's just screeching at me. As always, thank you so much for reading! 💜

It was uncommon to be called to your stepfather’s office. The high rise on the edge of Studio City had housed the heads of his family since the silent film era, give or take a remodel and expansion or five. You’d only been here a handful of times, mostly left out of the family business. When his assistant opened the door for you, you were surprised to see a small group of people, all in expensive business attire, surrounding your stepdad, Joseph Rogers, at his desk. Even more surprising was the figure standing in the corner, staring out the window – your mother. 

“Mom?” you asked, unable to hide your confusion. She just gave you a tight smile in return and turned her attention to her husband.

“Sweetheart,” he called to you. It’s what he’d called you since you’d first met him as a child and it had always felt patronizing and empty. You were well aware that you were an annoyance he’d been saddled with when he’d married your mother for her late first husband’s connections. Eighteen years later, you wished he’d drop the pretense already. “Please, have a seat,” he gestured to the leather chair in front of his large oak desk. 

You sat down across from him. “What’s going on?” you asked, an uneasy feeling building in your gut.

“Congratulations are in order,” he said, smiling at you. “You’re engaged.”

Years of experience at bullshit industry and society parties had you pasting on a benign smile. This was your fourth, no fifth engagement, the first one dating all the way back to when you were 10. They’d all dissolved for one reason or another, the business arrangements at the heart of them disintegrating too. But looking around the room at all the extra people in attendance, you knew better than to dismiss this outright. You were older now. Many of your friends from school had found themselves married as part of business deals in the last few years. Love matches were uncommon in the circles you frequented. There wasn’t much patience for love when this much money was at stake. But still, just because it was expected, that didn’t make you any more ready for your turn. 

“That’s wonderful,” you said, putting all your effort into keeping your tone even. “May I ask whom I’m engaged to?” 

“Ransom Drysdale,” Joseph said. “He’s the grandson of Harlan Thrombey, the mystery writer. We’ve been trying to secure the movie rights to his works for years and this should finally cement it. It’s fantastic news for our family and this studio. The joining of our families should create many opportunities for all of us. Ransom is one of the most eligible bachelors in Boston. You should feel very lucky.”

Lucky was the last thing you felt right now, but you kept your face schooled as you ran through your mental Rolodex to try to figure out if you had any social connections to this man. The fact that he lived on the other side of the country made it less likely but not impossible. 

“So,” he continued, sliding a stack of papers across his desk to you, “all you need to do is sign and initial the contract where it’s marked, and we can get started finalizing the details for the wedding next month.”

At that, all your poise disappeared and the smile dropped off your face. “Next month?”

Joseph nodded. “It’s important to strike while the iron is hot with deals like this. So go ahead and sign so that we can all move on to the next stage.”

Your heart thumped wildly in your chest. This was happening. This one was real. “Shouldn’t I read it first?” you asked, somewhat desperately.

He shook his head, “No need,” he said, gesturing to the man you recognized as one of the family lawyers standing beside him. “Julian has already gone through it with a fine-toothed comb. All of our interests are well represented. It’s all in legalese anyway. Impossible to understand if you aren’t a lawyer.” He chuckled and many of the people standing around the desk, staring at you, joined him. 

“I just–” you stammered. You didn’t know what to do, but you knew you couldn’t pick up that pen.

Irritation bloomed on your stepfather’s face. “Lydia!” he called. 

Your mother stopped staring out the window and stepped up to your chair. “Honey,” she said gently, putting her hand on your back. “This will be such a good thing. And then we can get to all the fun parts of planning the wedding!” She picked up the pen and held it out to you. You took a moment to look at her. Her features were drawn and her eyes looked exhausted. She’d looked that way as long as you could remember. It did nothing to reassure you. 

You glanced at the door behind you. You knew you weren’t getting out of this room without signing the contract. You took a deep breath and took the pen from your mother. There was nothing else to do. No other choice. You quickly flipped through the papers, initialing where indicated and signing the last page. Your hand was shaking so badly you weren’t sure any of it was legible.

When you turned over the last page, Joseph clapped his hands together. “Excellent!” He took a large binder off the desk and passed it over to you. “We’ve put some information together for you on your new fiance. Ransom will be in town next week to take you to dinner so that the two of you can get to know each other. Now, I’m sure you want to go celebrate, so we won’t keep you any longer.”

At the clear dismissal, you stood up. Many people in the room offered their congratulations and you nodded to them, forcing a strained smile. Then you made your way out on shaky legs, needing to see the one person who might be able to help you process what had just happened.

You’d been six years old when you and your mother had moved into the Rogers mansion. You were terrified, already able to sense Joseph’s indifference towards you. But your comfort during that time, and all the time after, had been his son, Steve. Twelve years old, still reeling from the death of his mother and just as deeply lonely as you, he’d named himself your protector, shielding you from his father’s annoyance and your mother’s sorrow. He guarded you from monsters when you woke up in the middle of the night after a nightmare and would stare down your bullies on the playground. You were very quickly inseparable. 

When you became engaged the first time when you were ten, sixteen-year-old Steve had taken you out for ice cream, telling you not to worry too much, there was so much time before anything would happen and that everything would be ok. When the arrangement had fallen apart, he’d hugged you and whispered in your ear, “See? I’m always right.”

That was the memory you couldn’t stop thinking about as you let yourself into your stepbrother’s apartment, using the key he’d given you on the day he’d moved in. He wasn’t in his front room, so you moved all the way to the back, to the spare room he used as an art studio. You lightly knocked on the doorframe as you entered, trying not to startle him. He was standing with his hands on his hips, staring at a half-finished painting, but looked over his shoulder as soon as he heard you. There was a warm smile on his face, but it dropped as soon as he took in your expression. “What happened?” he asked as you flopped down onto his couch.

“I think I might be really fucked, Steve,” you said quietly, your hands still shaking. You couldn’t get them to stop.

“What happened?” he asked again, more forcefully this time, as he dragged a chair from the corner of the room so that he could sit right across from you.

“Your dad, he–” You stopped and shook your head. Steve’s face darkened. “I’m engaged,” you said with a helpless shrug.

“Okay,” he said evenly. “That might not be the most dire thing. You’ve been engaged before. Nothing ever comes of it.”

You sighed. “They’ve set a date this time.”

“Oh,” was all he could say at first, surprise on his face. “That’s new.”

“Yeah.” you nodded. “A month from now.”

That had Steve sitting up straight. “The hell?!”

“It’s happening this time. I can feel it.”

“Hey, no,” he said, reaching out to touch your arm. “Let me try to talk some sense into him. Buy you some time. He might listen to me.”

You shook your head. “Everything’s already signed. They made me sign. I don’t think there’s any getting out of it.”

“He give you a name?”

“Ransom Drysdale.”

Before he was able to stop himself, Steve grimaced.

“Fuck,” you muttered, briefly covering your face with your hands.

“No, it’s– I’ve only met him once or twice, ok? I don’t actually know anything about him.”

“But you don’t like him.”

“He’s–” Steve paused, clearly trying to find the words that wouldn’t upset you even more, “a strong personality.” He looked at you carefully. “And he’s older than you. Older than me, even.”

“I know,” you sighed, reaching for your bag and taking out the folder. “They gave me this.”

You handed it to Steve and he paged through it. “This is intense. Do you think they gave him one about you?”

You shrugged. “Dunno. Probably. Can’t imagine it says anything interesting.”  

Steve nodded, seriously. “It’s probably pretty thin. Just the story of that time you completely freaked out when you weren’t allowed to bring Mr. BunBun to school with you.”

You grabbed the pillow next to you and hurled it at him. “You’re such a dick!” you laughed. “I’m very upset!”

He batted the pillow back at you and cackled when it hit you in the chest. “He deserves to know the kind of person he’s marrying. The kind who throws a five-alarm tantrum when she’s separated from her stuffed bunny.”

“I was eight, asshole!” You laughed again but then your brain caught on something Steve had said. “Holy shit, he’s marrying me. I’m getting married. I don’t know anything about him. He could be anyone. You don’t even like him! He could hurt me and–” 

“Hey, no!” Steve interrupted quickly. “I might not know much, but I know that. He won’t do that. I’m sure of it. And if he ever even tried, I’d be there so fast. They’d never find his body.”

“Will he be kind to me?” you asked quietly. He opened his mouth to say something, but you stopped him. “Be honest with me. Please.”

He sighed. “I don’t know.”

“Well,” you said, trying so hard not to cry, “I guess at least now we know exactly how your dad feels about me.”

Steve closed his eyes and quietly said your name. When he opened them, there was a resolved look on his face that was painfully familiar. His ‘I’m going to fix this’ face. He was intractable when he got like this. He set his jaw. “I’m going to talk to Dad.”

You shook your head. “Steve.” Your stepfather was just as intractable as his son. This would only result in a shouting match that wouldn’t go anywhere.

“It’s going to be alright,” he said resolutely.

All you could do was say “OK,” with a wan smile, knowing it was a lie. You lay down on the couch and curled up on your side. “Do you mind if I stay here for a bit?”

“Of course not. Lola good on her own for a while?”

You nodded. Your little dog was probably asleep in her kennel. “Yeah, for a while.”

“Do you mind if I keep working on this?” he asked, gesturing to his painting.

“I like watching you paint,” you said, trying to find comfort in the familiarity of something you’d done since you were small.

He stood up and turned back to his easel, and you did your best to focus on watching him paint and not think about how, if this went through, you’d have to move to Boston and you wouldn’t get to have this time with your brother anymore.

As expected, Steve’s talk with Joseph yielded no results when it came to your future. The only thing it seemed to have any effect on was their own relationship, Steve announcing to you that he was no longer speaking to his father the next time you saw him. You hadn’t expected anything else.

For your part, you spent the next week vacillating between going overboard preparing for your first meeting with Ransom—pouring over your folder on him, making salon appointments, shopping for a dress that would make the right impression—and pretending your problems didn’t exist. As such, the day of the dinner still snuck up on you. You were a nervous wreck. 

The plan was for him to pick you up at your apartment, but an hour before he was supposed to arrive, you got a text from an unfamiliar number telling you to meet him at the restaurant instead. 

So now you sat at the table, alone, in a new dress with your hair done. You’d arrived ten minutes early, and he was now 20 minutes late. You took a deep breath, staring at the empty seat across from you. He would show up. He had to. 

Another ten minutes passed and, as you waived off the server for a third time, you let yourself consider what it would mean if your future husband had stood you up. You should go. It’d be pathetic to stay. And even if he did show up after you’d gone, it’d make a point. Show you had a backbone. You should definitely go.

Just as your hand began to inch toward your handbag on the table, the hostess came through, leading a tall, handsome man to your table. She stopped beside you and then ducked away. The man looked at you critically. He said your name like a question and, when you nodded, he sat down. He didn’t introduce himself, but he could only be Ransom. 

He was dressed nicely in an expensive sweater and slacks, but much more casually than you were and looking around the restaurant than most of the other people there, too. And when he sat down, you could see the places in his sweater where it was threadbare or torn. You tried very hard to not take it as a sign of how he felt about this dinner, felt about you.

You cleared your throat to say something, you weren’t entirely sure what when he glanced at your glass of water. “You don’t drink?”

“No, I do,” you said, but when he smirked you realized how that sounded. “I can,” you amended, but that sounded odd too. “I mean, I don’t have anything against it. I was just waiting for you.”

He snorted. “Well, aren’t you polite?”  His tone made it feel like the worst thing you could possibly be. He flagged down the server and ordered a glass of the Macallan 18, then huffed impatiently while you asked questions about their wine selection. You didn’t know how he could be half an hour late and make you feel bad for taking your time ordering. 

Once you’d finally made your choice and the server left, you tried not to squirm as he gave you a once-over with his eyes. You felt disappointing without really knowing why. You tried to shrug off the feeling, but then Ransom said, “How old even are you?” with scorn in his voice.

You cleared your throat. “Twenty-four,” you tried to say with confidence.

“Jesus Christ,” he muttered.

You did your best not to shrink in on yourself. Maybe he was just nervous too. It was a weird situation. But, “Didn’t they tell you about me?”

He snorted again and rolled his eyes. “Gave me a whole binder. I never opened it.”

You looked down at your empty place setting, embarrassed. You’d studied every inch of what they’d given you, hoping to show him how seriously you were taking this and he couldn’t care less. “Oh,” was all you were able to say. 

He grinned a little meanly. “You got one too, didn’t you? Don’t tell me you’ve memorized facts about me that you were ready to rattle off to impress me.”

“No,” you growled out. You weren’t going to let him make you feel small just for trying to show interest in the person you were going to have to spend the rest of your life with.

He swiped one hand over his mouth and chin. “My god,” he muttered, “this whole thing is fucking ridiculous.”

The waitress came back and set down your drinks. Ransom immediately took a large gulp of his scotch. You itched to do the same, but you suddenly felt like proving a point. Even if you weren’t entirely sure what that point was. 

You were ready to order, but Ransom hadn’t glanced at his menu yet. Just as you were about to ask for a few more minutes, he said, “Go ahead and bring me another one of these right away,” and gestured with his drink in dismissal. She nodded and left.

Fuck it, you let yourself take a large drink of your wine. “Do you know what you’re going to have?” you asked, nodding to his menu.

He shook his head. “I have dinner plans after this.”

Heat shot through your whole body. “I thought these were the dinner plans.”

He rolled his eyes again. “Getting a head start on the nagging?” he asked, dryly. “Wow, it’s like we’re already married.”

You opened your mouth to do something, you weren’t sure what. Everything in your mind had gone white. But once again, Ransom beat you to it. “Alright, let’s get this done. You’re moving into my house. Fine. But I already have everything we need, so I expect you to pack light. I don’t need your shit cluttering up everything.”

You didn’t know what to say to that. You didn’t know how to have a conversation with him. Someone who left no room for you and seemed not to care at all about anything you had to say. And then there was the voice in your head that kept shouting about how incredibly important this dinner was to the rest of your life. And now it wasn’t even dinner. So when you opened your mouth to speak, what came out was, “I have a dog.”

He stared at you for a moment, seemingly surprised that you’d spoken at all. “What? No. Absolutely not. You’ll have to get rid of it. I hate dogs.”

You didn’t even bother to try to think through the static in your head. “She’s coming with me. I don’t care what else happens, I’m fucking bringing my dog.”

Ransom just narrowed his eyes and stared at you for a moment, then, “Fine. Just keep it away from me. And if it destroys my house, you’re getting rid of it. I’m serious.”  

“She won’t,” you said, as sure of that as anything. “She’s a good girl.”

“Whatever,” he said, as the server returned with his second drink. He slid his empty glass to the end of the table, then said, “The bill,” without looking at her. As she took his empty away, he continued to you, “I don’t know why you want to deal with a dog and a baby, but…” he shrugged.

You just blinked at him, trying to catch up with the massive leap he’d just taken. “Baby? What? Who said anything about a baby?”

He laughed, loudly. “Oh my god, they didn’t tell you?”

“Tell me what?” you asked, harshly, panic starting to build up in your chest. 

“Of course, they fucking left that to me. There’s a clause in the contract,” he said, “requiring you to get pregnant with my child within the first year.”

You stared over his shoulder, you couldn't look him in the eye, horrified and speechless. You couldn’t breathe. How were you supposed to breathe?

“You seriously didn’t read your own marriage contract?” The judgment in his tone had you shrinking in on yourself. You couldn’t help it.

“They didn’t give me any time,” you said, quietly. “They just made me sign it.”

“And you always do what you’re told, don’t you? Yeah, you look like a good girl.” He said it the same way he’d called you polite when he’d first sat down with you. Like it made you weak. Stupid. You’d never thought so before, but now you wondered if he was right.

“Fuck,” you whispered.

He chuckled humorlessly. “We agree on that,” he said. “This whole thing is fucked.”

At some point, without your notice, the server had returned with Ransom’s card and the receipt. He signed it quickly, then stood up. “Listen, now, at least, we can go back to our parents, tell them we met, chatted, got to know each other. Everything is hunky dory. And then do whatever we want for the next three weeks. Right now, I’m going to try to salvage my night. You go do,” he gestured vaguely at you, “whatever you need to do. I’ll see you at the wedding.”

And then he was gone and you were alone.

You sat in the back seat of the car on the way back to your apartment, running over every moment of your evening. You kept thinking about the way he’d looked at you, talked to you. A baby. You were supposed to have a baby with him. A child that you’d have to raise. By yourself, judging by how invested in all this he seemed to be. Forty, fifty years of him looking at you like that, talking to you like that. And a baby. You leaned forward and asked the driver to take you to your parents’ house instead. 

Once you arrived, you said you needed to speak to your stepfather urgently and were shown to his study. You stood in the middle of the room, too anxious to sit down, and waited. Everyone was making you wait tonight. 

Several minutes later, Joseph finally came in. “We weren’t expecting you tonight,” he said. “How did it go?”

You ignored his question, which you guessed was an answer in itself. “Please don’t make me do this,” you pleaded. 

“Sweetheart,” he sighed, disappointed, and moved over to his bar, pouring himself two fingers of decanted whiskey. “I’m sure it wasn’t that bad.”

“It was. It was awful. He’s– I can’t do this. Please, please don’t make me.” Your voice broke, but you couldn’t be embarrassed about it, not when you were staring down an entire lifetime with him. 

“Everyone gets nervous before their wedding. You’ll be fine. This is important. To all of us.”

“It’s not nerves!” You were close to shouting, suddenly. “You weren’t there. You don’t know. There have to be other families we need things from. It doesn’t have to be this family, does it? It doesn’t have to be right now. Please, please, anything else. I’m begging you, don’t make me marry him, have a child with him.”

He chuckled lightly. “Oh, that’s what this is about. It won’t feel as scary once the baby is here. You’ll make an excellent mother.”

You just stared at him, agape. He wasn’t listening to anything you had to say. “How could you not tell me that was part of the contract? I deserved to know. I wouldn’t have signed!”

His face hardened at that. “You were naive to not expect it. Of course, children are part of this. I admit that the timing is a little fast, but Harlan insisted.”

“Joseph, please listen to me. I can’t. I can’t. Please. If you care about me at all, you won’t make me do this.”

“You’re being ridiculous. It’s done. Everything’s signed. You signed. Now,” he said and took a drink, “it’s getting late. It’s high time you went home. Hopefully, you’ll be able to calm yourself down there.” And then he left the room, ignoring you as your whole world fell apart.

As you left, you passed your mother in the hall. Neither of you said anything.

When you got home, Steve was waiting for you, having already let himself in, holding Lola in one arm. “How did it go?” he asked seriously. You shook your head and finally let the tears fall. He pulled you into his arms, smushing you against your dog, and gently guided you into your home.

Part Two

Tag list is open

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#ransom drysdale x you #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale x female reader #ransom drysdale #chris evans fanfiction #fanfic #steve rogers #knives out #captain america #reader insert #arranged marriage au #kris wrote something #more than this #ce characters

[supercap2319]

It's my birthday. So I wanted to ask for one of those NSFW imagines that you do...

Steve Rogers surprising y/n on his birthday (the newest member of the team) by letting him eat his cake (his ass).

Y/N's birthday wish had come true about six weeks before his actual birthday was due. It was like something out of a movie where the main character lands their dream job, or in Y/N's case, his dream team.

Ever since the Avengers first appeared together to save the world, Y/N wanted to be a part of the team. He studied hard in school, played sports, and even the occasional computer classes, but what got him the job was the powers he developed. The power to control the very weather all at his fingertips. Nick Fury was impressed, and after a trial run, Y/N was officially the newest member of the Avengers.

Everyone was welcoming. Sure, Tony liked to pick on Y/N because he was the rookie of the team, Steve, aka Captain America, always had his back. Y/N couldn't help but fall for the Captain. He was so nice and kind. He showed Y/N the ropes on missions, and he never lost his patience with Y/N. Even when the situation called for it.

Y/N and Steve were an inseparable team after the first few weeks. Steve would teach Y/N everything he knew from battle techniques to planning and strategizing. In return, Y/N had shown Steve how to work a phone and the internet. What memes were and social media. That's probably how Steve found out it was Y/N's birthday.

The young Avenger didn't want to make a spectacle of his birthday, so he didn't bother telling anyone about it. Y/N figured he could spend a quiet Friday night alone with some Netflix. He was wrong.

Y/N enters his room to find Steve waiting for him on his bed with a small smirk on his face. He wore a blue bathroom and fuzzy red slippers. This was so different from the "old man clothes" as Tony liked to call them that Steve usually wore. His blue eyes were shining with a hidden mischief. "Hey, Y/N."

"Hey, Cap. What's up? How did you get into my room?"

"J.A.R.V.I.S. let me in. Hope that's fine with you?"

"Of course. Did you need something?" Y/N asked, eyebrows raised at Steve's attire.

Steve stood up and walked towards him. Y/N frowns and gulps as Steve gets closer until he can see the flecks of black in baby blue eyes. His lips are pink and plump. So full and shining with some sort of coat. Probably, lip bomb. "It occurred to me that today was your birthday today, and you didn't tell anyone. Why?" Steve looks at Y/N.

Y/N blushed and rubbed the back of his neck nervously. "I didn't want to make a big deal about it."

"You should. We're a team now. We celebrate everyone's birthday together. But we can tell the others tomorrow. For now, I have a cake for you." Steve smiled, but he was also blushing very hard, which made him look even more adorable and innocent than he usually did.

"You baked me a cake? You didn't have to do that."

"It's a different kind of cake. And I need you to frost it for me. I can't reach back there."

Before Y/N could ask what that meant, Steve dropped his robe and revealed he was wearing a patriotic thong. Captain America turned around, and the floss of the fabric was so tight around Steve bare ass crack and made his white boy cheeks even bigger than they were and believe Y/N, he's seen Steve in his suit. He knew those glutes would be big.

"Steve, what are you doing?" Y/N blushed, but he couldn’t deny he's actually fantasized Steve doing this just for him. Showing him America's ass.

"I told you. I want you to frost my cake with your tongue. Maybe you'll give me your frosting?" Steve pulled the thong to the side of his cheeks and exposed his pinkish hole. It winked at him. "Please, Y/N?"

Y/N looks shocked. Was Steve really giving him his ass for his birthday? He must be dreaming, right? He pinched himself. He wasn't. This was real, and so was Steve. Steve wanted it. The pinnacle of American dreams was right in front of him, shaking his tight ass.

The young Avenger walked towards Steve and bent him forward against the bed as Y/N spread those golden boy ass cheeks and began to lick Captain America's ass like a dying man.

#x male reader #male reader insert #male x male #steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x male reader #chris evans #captain america #Captain America x male reader #birthday wishes

[topmalereaderblog]

Miguel O'hara // Simon "Ghost" Riley// Oscar Isaac // Chris Evans // Chris Hemsworth // Mature Rant 🚨

Small rant I just had the most vivid dream separately with each of these men like I just imagined them bouncing and riding my cock till I was begging and they were all wearing cock cages and there tiny dicks just flopped around while they rode me. They way each and every single one of these men moaned was so fucking hot. I'm so honry for them. I just want to make them stay at home, husband's and fuck them till they're pregnant with my kids. Coming home to them and worshipping them. The urge to mark them in any way with love bites covering them my cum deep inside them. Make them cum so much that they just piss all over themselves.

#dom male reader #top male reader #male reader #male reader fanfic #male reader insert #male reader smut #x male reader #x male reader smut #miguel o'hara x male reader #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara x top male reader #oscar isaac x male reader #oscar isaac x top male reader #chris evans x top male reader #chris hemsworth x male reader #chris evans x male reader #simon riley x top male reader #simon riley x dom male reader #cod fanfic #cod x top male reader

[paperweight91]

The Other Side of Tomorrow - Part 1

Summary: Your boss takes a sudden interest in you at the news of your impending divorce. He’s just being nice though right?

Pairing: Lloyd Hansen x Reader

Warnings: talk of divorce, Lloyd being…Lloyd.

A/N: sooooo this happened. I’m pretty sure that I’m kind of in love with how this is going so far. 😈 please leave allll the feedback and reblogs are most welcome!

You stared at the piece of paper in front of you, not really listening to the conversations happening around you. This wasn’t the place to be doing this. Unfortunately, you had to get this back to your lawyer ASAP. So, here you were in the middle of the lunch room, signing your divorce and custody agreements.

People were bustling around you, laughing, gossiping. Unbothered by the solemn task you had in front of you. There was nothing to read through. You had talked this to death with your lawyer. And his lawyer. And your mother. God that had been a painful conversation. So why were you hesitating? Why couldn’t you just sign and be done with it?

You were so absorbed in your own head that you didn’t even notice when the atmosphere in the lunchroom changed. The others quietly whispering, rather than the loud conversations from before. You felt someone nudge your shoulder before they spoke, “What’s that?” Fuck. Not only had someone noticed you sitting in the middle of the lunchroom staring at your divorce papers, but it was also the CEO of the company. Lloyd Hansen.

You fumbled with the papers, signing them quickly and hiding them in the red folio the lawyer had given them to you in. “N-nothing Mr. Hansen. Just some paperwork I have to get to my lawyer.” To say you were mortified was an understatement. He clucked his tongue and held his hand out. When you just stared at it with a bewildered expression on your face he motioned toward the folio and snapped his fingers impatiently. When you still didn’t move he grabbed the folio from your hand huffing as he opened it.

“Sir that’s, it’s private. Please, give it back.” Tears had gathered in your eyes. Throughout the separation you had prided yourself on keeping up appearances at work. In fact, other than your immediate family and best friend no one knew about your separation and now divorce. No one at the office had even suspected anything, or so you thought.

Lloyd hummed as he looked through the papers quickly, his eyebrow quirked, and you knew he was up to something. Working for Hansen Government Services was great in terms of benefits and hours, but it was the worst to work for Lloyd. The man was all about appearances. From his perfectly kept hair to his shined shoes. The only thing that seemed out of place was the mustache on his clean kept face, but even that was neatly trimmed and maintained. Lloyd seemed to thrive on making everyone around him feel small. You were lucky that you were so low on the totem pole that he had never noticed you before.

To say the man was intimidating was an understatement. Lloyd’s face was blank as he handed you back the folio. You winced as you waited for him to make some joke at your expense. But it never came. The look he gave you as his hand brushed yours confused you. So much so that you didn’t even notice as his thumb stroked against the back of your hand. It hit you all at once. Pity. Lloyd Hansen pitied you. That was a new low.

“I’m sorry Mr. Hansen, I’ll go back to work now.” You sniffed and hung your head as you left the lunch room. You could hear the other staff members whispering. Fuck, this is not what you needed today.

Before you could make it to the door you heard Mr. Hansen call your name. You wiped at your eyes quickly before you turned. “Yes sir?”

“I need to see you in my office. Fifteen minutes.” With that he called one of your colleagues a douche and strutted out of the lunch room.

As soon as he was gone the murmurs began again. The lunchroom suddenly filled with sound from every one still in there. You could feel their eyes on you. Probably judging you. You glared at the few that dared look at you then stomped out of the lunchroom to your desk. Deciding you should check your appearance before your impromptu meeting with Mr. Hansen.

You rushed into the ladies room and saw a couple of the girls from your department. Nothing new. They still hated you. God you hated this place. Not one person was nice, everyone was out to step on each other. Meanwhile you just wanted to do your job, get your pay check and go home. You fixed your makeup in the mirror realizing there wasn’t much you could do about the red rimming your eyes. It would have to do.

You could feel the dread bubbling up in you as you walked to his office. Could feel the eyes of your coworkers as you got closer. Checking your watch you saw you were right on time. You raised your hand and knocked on Lloyd’s door and waited for his answering “Come in” before entering.

He gestured for you to enter and you snapped the door shut behind you. You’d never been in his office before. You liked keeping to yourself. Keeping your head down. Now you had drawn the attention of a shark, and you were terrified.

“Sit.” It wasn’t a request. It was a demand. His eyes never left the computer screen on his desk. You tip toed to the nearest chair and stiffly sat down. It was the most uncomfortable and ugly chair you had ever sat in. But you weren’t about to tell Mr. Hansen that.

“I’m sorry for what happened in the lunchroom sir. I can assure you it won’t happen again.” You looked down at your hands clasped on your lap. Hopefully that was all he called you in for and he would let you leave so you could wallow in your workday.

“Huh?” He still hadn’t looked at you, and it seemed like he wasn’t even paying attention to you. Why were you even here?

“Uh, I can go sir if you’re busy.” At that his eyes snapped over to you. You could feel him take in your appearance from head to toe. It was like he was undressing you.

“You Sourpuss, aren’t going anywhere.” You flinched at the nickname, but didn’t comment. As you raised your eyes to his you saw that look on his face again, only switching to mirth quickly at your flinch. Pity again. How you hated the way people who knew looked at you now. It was almost enough to make you lose your cool. But you choked down your ire and sat looking at Lloyd.

“Is there a reason you wanted to see me, Sir?” Luckily your tone came out inquisitive, rather than accusatory. You knew why Lloyd normally brought women into his office. He wasn’t shy about it.

Usually they were screaming so loud you could hear them at your desk at the other side of the office, with noise canceling headphones on. They usually quit or were fired within days of being ‘called into Mr. Hansen’s office.’ You never thought you would be ever receiving attention from Mr. Hansen.

“Excellent question: Why. Did. I. Call. You. In. Here.” His eyes were dancing with mirth now, the blue more green as his enjoyment of your misery increased. You sat shocked for a moment before you realized he was actually asking you.

“Umm, I’m really not sure Sir. I-I know you saw my divorce papers and um, and you know, all that. And again I’m sorry for bringing that into the office. My lawyer said I had to get them back before 5, and they’re all the way across town so...” Oh god there was the word vomit. Why were you like this?

Lloyd snorted eyes darting back to his computer screen momentarily as he held a finger up towards you. The longer you sat here the more you hated this man. At the rate he was going you’d wind up working late to make up for this “meeting” of his.

He sighed as he turned back to you after typing out something quickly on his computer. “Fine, take all the fun out of it, why don’t you.” He rested his elbows on his desk, tenting his fingers in front of his face. He was assessing you. “You are the data analyst who is most useful to me right now.” He paused, likely to let you soak in his praise, what an ass. You shifted uncomfortably in your seat and opened your mouth to respond, before he held his finger up to you again. “You had your chance Sourpuss, now it's mine.” You flinched again at the nickname, his eyes were sparkling now. “We are being sent on an OP in Oslo. I’m going to need someone on site to mine the data. I want it to be you. Think you can get your brat squared away long enough to get our jobs done?”

To say you were shocked was an understatement. Mr. Hansen wanted you to go on an OP? Thinking quickly on your feet, you knew this was an opportunity you couldn’t pass up. “I-um-Of course Mr. Hansen. I will just need to know the date of departure and how long we’re expected to be out of the country. But, um, Sir, I’ve uh, I’ve never done field work before. I’ve only ever been remote from head office.”

Lloyd snorted at your eager reply, “Obviously, Sourpuss. I’ll have my assistant send you over the details after our meeting is over. Now what do we say?” He was smirking as he asked his question. With the look on his face you knew the wrong answer would land you in a heap of trouble.

You twisted your fingers and kept your eyes on your lap, “Th-Thank you sir. This is an amazing opportunity, and I really appreciate it. Can I let you know for sure tomorrow once I’ve had time to talk to my hus- I mean ex-husband?”

Lloyd hummed at your response. “Not quite what I was going for Sourpuss, but it’ll do for now.” You dared to glance up at his expression. You weren’t quite sure what to make of it, of him. This was the most conversation you had had with the man since working for him for 6 years.

As you got up to leave his office he slid a card across his desk towards you. “Before you send those papers to your lawyer, give him a call. Tell him I sent you. He’ll get you a better deal, I promise.” Lloyd winked at you before returning to his computer.

You took it as the dismissal it was, and promptly left his office. You were shaken by the bizarre meeting with your boss. You knew the man was awful, you didn’t realize he was unhinged as well. When you got back to your desk you finally looked at the card in your hand. Andrew Barber. It couldn’t hurt to call right?

Glancing around to make sure everyone either had their earbuds or headphones on you quickly dialed the number. “Barber, Grant and Mills, how can I help you?”

Oh god she was just as perky as the blonde that worked at your lawyers office. “Hi uh yes, my boss um Lloyd Hansen gave me Mr. Barbers card and said that he could help me with my uh…my divorce and custody papers. Is there any chance I could speak with him today?”

You hated what the divorce had done to you. You never used to be like this, stuttering, sad, pathetic. You always took charge and were the go-to person in the office and at home. Now, you could barely answer the phone without becoming a stumbling mess.

“Hmmm well Mr. Barber has a pretty packed schedule today, let me put you on a quick hold, okay gun?” Ew did she just call you hun? You had to pull yourself together. This was no way to carry on.

Just as you were debating hanging up the phone a deep baritone picked up on the other side. “Andy Barber speaking.”

You couldn’t believe it, your mouth opened and closed a few times before you were able to get words out. “Mr Barber! Thank you so much for taking my call, I apologize for requesting a call so urgently, but I uh, well I just heard about you today.”

There was a chuckle on the other end of the line, “Please, call me Andy. Now let’s start from the beginning, I know Lloyd gave you my number. Why don’t you start with your name?”

You could slap yourself, actually you did slap yourself. You quickly gave your name. “I’m sorry Mr.” At his hum you quickly changed to his first name, “Andy. I’m sorry, this whole divorce has just taken a toll on me.”

“It’s not uncommon for that to happen. Lloyd said you have divorce and custody agreements from your lawyer that you need to sign today?” You gave a quick yes. “It’s tight but email me over the agreements, and I’ll have a quick look. If there’s anything I can do, I’ll call you back right away.”

Shocked. That was the only word for it. “Thank you so much Andy, I’m sending everything over now!” You heard his light chuckle at your excitement. “I hate to ask after you’ve made this amazing offer, but could you give me an estimate for how much this would cost all together? Don’t worry I can pay for this consultation, just want to know if I’m eating sandwiches or ramen this week.” You laughed at your own joke and Andy laughed through the phone.

“Not to worry, I’m on retainer with Lloyd and I owe him a favour.”

Wait, what? Just more weird on top of an already bizarre day.

“Thank you, Andy. Truly. You should be receiving the documents in the next 10 minutes.” You walked over to the copy room as you wrapped up the call with Andy. He seemed pleasant for a lawyer, at least more pleasant than your own lawyer.

“No worries at all, I’ll call you soon.” With that the line went dead. You quickly scanned both agreements, and emailed them to yourself. You forwarded the email to your personal email in case Andy decided to hit reply instead of calling. You carefully copied Andy’s email into the to: field and hit send before you could second guess yourself.

As you heard the swoosh of the email sent you felt a new lightness to yourself. Like a weight you didn’t know you’d been carrying was, maybe not lifted but definitely lighter.

You quickly jumped back into your current assignment, not wanting to mess up when Mr. Hansen had been so weirdly kind in one day. You were so absorbed in your data tracking that you almost didn’t notice as your cell phone started vibrating. Recognizing the number as Andy’s you immediately picked up.

“Andy, I didn’t expect you to call right away. Thank you for calling me back so quickly.” You’re definitely gushing, so not cute.

He chuckled before responding, “It's not a problem at all. I took a look at the paperwork, and I’m not gonna sugar coat it, he’s trying to pull one over on you. If you’re okay with it, I’m going to respond today with new demands. I know this has been a drawn out process for you so I’ll make it as quick and easy as I can.”

Were you shocked that your ex was trying to get away with something in the divorce? Not entirely, but did you really want to fight him anymore? That you weren’t sure of.

“Andy, that all sounds good, but I don’t know. It’s taken us so long to get to this point. I just want it to be over.” You could feel the tears and exhaustion coming. The same way you always felt when you got a call from your lawyer. You looked up to see if there was a place for some privacy, deciding the stairwell was your best option you farted over as quickly as you could.

“What if I can guarantee to have him sign by the end of the day tomorrow?” Andy’s response shocked you.

“How is that possible? I’m sure you’re good, but I don’t think you’ve met my ex.” You started to wring your hands as you paced along the edge of the stairwell.

“You leave that to me, I promise we’ll get you sorted. I’m emailing you the revised ask for both custody and the divorce now, as soon as you approve I will contact his lawyer.” Andy’s tone was all business. Your phone pinged with the arrival of the new email and your eyes widened as you took in the lists. Everything was exactly what you had initially asked for with your last lawyer who told you it would never happen after one meeting with your ex.

Before you could stop yourself you were responding to Andy. “Yes, please. If you can get me all of this, you’ll be my new hero.” Your tone was flat, but Andy still chuckled at your words.

“Alright, you sit tight and I’ll call you tomorrow with an update. If all goes to plan I’ll have the papers couriered to your office to sign. Take care.”

You nearly skipped on your way to the break room deciding to reward yourself with some coffee and a day old donut. What you didn’t expect was to find Lloyd there.

“Mr. Hansen! Thank you! Andy thinks he can get me everything my last lawyer said wasn’t possible. I can’t believe it! Thank you so much for this you have no idea how much I appreciate it.” Normally you’d hug someone who had done you a favour like this. There was no way you were going to hug your boss.

He grinned like a Cheshire Cat. “No problem at all Sourpuss. You come in here looking for a pick me up after the good news? I can help with that.” He winked.

Was Lloyd hitting on you? There was no way. “Just coffee and something sweet sir.” You averted your gaze as you grabbed the carafe and filled one of the company mugs. You fixed it quickly and turned to find Lloyd right in your personal space.

“Check your email for the assignment info. If you’re still good I’ll need a response by tomorrow, no later. You got it Sourpuss?” He reached up and tucked your hair behind your ear.

Now that you were closer, you realized how good looking he truly was. When he wasn’t making fun of someone or being an ass in general. He had sharp features, but they didn’t seem harsh. Now that you were closer you also noticed that his mustache almost suited him, almost.

“Yes, sir of course.” He nodded at your response and it was only then that you noticed his hand was still in your hair. It seemed to occur to him at the same time as he quickly yanked his hand back, with a shocked look on his face. He did a quick about face and was marching off towards his office.

You shrugged off the weirdness and celebrated your tiny victory with a coffee and a well earned day old donut while you finished up your work for the day.

#chris evans #lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen x reader #the gray man #the other side of tomorrow #reader insert

[jadedvibes]

to be his wife 🥰

Mrs. Barber

Oh what a dream ♡ Let's imagine what it'd be like if after leaving his ex he met a lawyer that was his ideal match.

Pairing: Andy Barber x lawyer!reader

Warnings: 18+ only, smut, swearing, fluff, possessive!andy sprinkled in.

Word Count: 825

Like, comment, and/or reblog to put a giant smile on my face ♡

From the moment he stepped into the courtroom and saw you were opposing counsel Andy knew he was screwed. The whispers of the woman that could rival him as a prosecutor moving to the district didn’t contain how beautiful you were.

Your stellar professional reputation preceded you, but your bewitching presence was a surprise that completely caught him off guard.  

Andy wasn’t one to get flustered under the pressures of the court, but when you looked at him, his speech briefly stuttered along with his heart. Your words flowed eloquently, and your confidence made him grateful that it was an open-and-shut case, because once court was adjourned he decided that a woman as brilliant as you belonged with him.

He pursued you until you gave in, but it was a lot harder than he anticipated. You weren’t looking for anything, yet his persistence ensured that you found it anyway. The man wore you down with his kindness, helpfulness, and those dazzling blue eyes always giving you his undivided attention. Despite your cynicism, you let yourself fall for the lawyer with the complicated past. 

Fortunately, Andy ensured that you didn’t regret it. And to further prove his commitment, he proposed after six months of dating you, simply because he needed you to be his, in every way possible. 

Just like he made you his, every night since you agreed to go out with him. You thought it might be a bit too early to sleep with him after your first official date. But as he helped you out of his Audi and walked you to your front door with your hand firmly in his, you knew exactly what was going to happen. 

“Tell me to leave, honey,” he mumbled against your lips after kissing you goodnight. 

“But I want you to stay,” you whispered before opening your door. 

He took care of you that night, worshiping every inch of your body, just like he wanted to from the moment his eyes laid on you. 

Your attraction couldn’t stay confined to just your places at night, and that’s how stolen kisses at work turned into making love behind locked office doors. But sex wasn’t always like that, sometimes he’d fuck you, quick and rough, just enough to get you both there. Other days, he’d take his time, dominating you hard and slow; whispering the filthiest words you’d only hear when you got him like that. 

“That’s it, honey. Go soft under me, fuck ��� this pussy’s so fuckin’ tight it’s like she wants to keep me inside,” Andy groaned against the shell of your ear, his beard grazing against your soft skin as he pounded into you. You felt him everywhere; his warm lips, his large hands, his hard length roughly sinking into you over and over again. Until you were screaming his name, barely able to hear him mutter how well you squeezed his cock and how pretty you were as you came for him. 

The two of you eloped on a weekend trip in Portland, and the main thing that changed once you were officially his wife was that his adoration and devotion became even more intense. 

Andy was a self-assured man, but now that you were his, you didn’t miss the way his possessiveness lingered whenever you interacted with other male colleagues. In fact, you loved the way he’d make it apparent that you belonged to him. You loved it even more when he took you home and reminded you that you were his Mrs. Barber – as if the ring on your finger and the hold on your heart wasn’t indication enough. 

His protective nature, the way he cherished you as a partner and always took care of you made you fall for him more and more every day. A few colleagues at work even mentioned that you changed him for the better. He didn’t hide the fact that he was once a workaholic that prioritized his job more than anything in his past relationship; instead he made sure that you knew that you were his top priority through his actions. You were his new beginning, a chance to do things differently, and he certainly made the most of that. 

Andy was the perfect husband to you, his wonderful wife. 

Because you were his ideal partner. You were the warm softness to his rough exterior – although you were strong when you needed to be and Andy really admired that. You were the one that he trusted to tear down the tall walls he’d built up over the years. He needed someone that didn’t judge him about his past, that actually appreciated him, and saw him for the deeply caring man that he was. It amazed him how you fit the bill in every sense; a fact he expressed gratitude for often. 

And now that Andy loves you, he can never stop. Because you’re his better half, his gorgeous and amazing wife, his Mrs. Barber.

#andy barber #andy barber imagine #andy barber x female reader #andy barber headcanon #andy barber x woc!reader #andy barber drabble #andy barber x reader #andy barber x you #andy barber x lawyer!reader #andy barber fic #andy barber fanfiction #andy barber fluff #andy barber reader insert #defending jacob #defending jacob fanfiction #andy barber x wife reader #andy barber fanfic #andy x woc!reader #chris evans x reader #chris evans characters #lawyer daddy #andy x reader #andy x female reader #mrs. barber

[buckyownsmylife]

fuckboy - epilogue #1

The one with the aftermath

for general warnings and author’s notes, please go to the fic’s masterlist.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

“What?” Was the first word out of his lips, after he pulled away to look me in the eyes as if determined to establish if I was joking and having fun at his expense. “How did you…?” His eyes did a brief sweep of my body, at last taking notice of the little bit of tummy I’d been trying to hid under loose sweaters and shirts.

“I realized I was gaining weight, feeling sick…” I explained, avoiding his eyes as I hugged myself. “I went to the doctors.” Shrugging, I tried to pass it off as less important than it really was, because I knew what was the question in his head, even if the signs of my pregnancy already indicated an answer.

“I’m almost four months pregnant.” This time, I looked him directly in his eyes as I said, needing to make sure he understood this and that he wouldn’t play dumb. There was no obvious tell as to what he was thinking, but he watched me attentively as I continued at his lack of response, “I was surprised I didn’t realize it sooner. I wasn’t getting my period and all signs pointed to… this. But apparently, it’s quite common - or so the doctor told me…”

My voice drifted off as I continued to wait for a reaction, any reaction, cautiously eying the man frozen before me in the hopes of identifying what he was feeling, when all of a sudden, he exploded.

“We’re having a baby!” 

He was ecstatic. 

I don’t know why it surprised me.

I’d always heard about Chris wanting to start a family. Hell, it was the theme of discussion on the night we met. But precisely because we didn’t meet in the best of terms, I knew why this was nerve-wrecking to me.

He wouldn’t be having any children any time soon if he had to decide this.

I couldn’t speak as he reached out to touch my stomach, stopping just short of it when he remembered to ask me for permission.

“Chris, no!” I slapped his hand away, even though I wasn’t particularly against feeling his touch there. It was just the heavy reality of the moment, and I felt it would sink in with the weight of his palm over where his child was now growing.

“Not right now, okay?” I whispered, trying to calm myself down. “Go home, I need to sleep and think about this. We’ll talk later, okay?” When he didn’t immediately move, I finally rose my eyes to look into his.

“I promise.” He stayed there for a few more seconds, face unreadable as he stare back into me and I had to bite down on my lower lip so I wouldn’t start crying in front of him. This was too much, especially considering I hadn’t anticipated having to admit my pregnancy to the father of the baby tonight.

Somehow, he seemed to understand it. Or, at the very least, respect my needs, because with a nod, he turned around and left me to overthink myself to sleep until I had to face him again tomorrow.

Chris’ P.O.V.

“Here.” She offered a tiny packet to me, wrapped like a present, with a bow and everything. I hadn’t been anticipating she’d call me the very next morning, but I couldn’t say it wasn’t precisely what I had been hoping for.

I had barely been able to sleep after I left her house last night. My mind swirled with everything I’d come to learn, and the weight of my actions and omissions laid even heavier over me when I realized what it would mean for the future of my child.

There was a very concrete possibility I wouldn’t get to raise my kid with the woman I loved as my partner because she couldn’t trust me with something as big as this.

And how could I blame her? I’d come here last night hoping to get her back and already knowing I didn’t deserve her, but now that I knew exactly what I was missing out on by being such a screw-up, I felt like bursting into tears at any moment.

Still, it didn’t stop me from drinking in her figure in the loose dress she wore around the house. It allowed the slight curve of her belly to show and for all of the desire I knew ran through my veins for that woman, I don’t think I’d ever wanted her more than I did right now.

“What is this?” I asked, voice hoarse and fingers trembling as I slowly started to unwrap the present I already knew I didn’t deserve.

“It’s just something I bought when I found out,” she explained, voice barely above a whisper, taking a seat next to me. “I got in the car and drove to the store without even thinking about it.”

A dry chuckle escaped her as she shook her head, avoiding my eyes. “I was feeling so numb I’m surprised I can even remember buying this.” A pang of guilt had me cringing, looking down at the box so I wouldn’t start crying at the sight of her.

I should have been there with her. She shouldn’t have had to go to the doctor alone.

The bow finally came loose and I opened the box to find the tiniest Patriots jersey I’d ever seen in my life. She didn’t have to explain it, I got it. She did plan to tell me all along, even though last night her hand had been forced.

Determination burned inside my veins, strengthening my resolve about what I needed to do. I’d even beg her, if need be.

“Y/N.” I said her name quietly, raising my gaze to meet hers, hand still holding the jersey tightly. “I’ll support you no matter what, but is there anything I can do to show you I’m responsible enough to be a father?” A pause, my hesitation almost won me over before I forced myself to admit in a whisper, “I don’t want to be the reason you abort…”

The immediate shake of her head surprised me into closing my mouth, hoping she’d add on to it, and to my great pleasure, she did. “You wouldn’t be,” she revealed, and for a second I felt my heart fall to my stomach, thinking she was admitting to her intention of aborting. Even if I wasn’t the reason for it, it would still hurt to know she was going to do that, even though it was her right to do so.

“But I won’t,” she assured me, the weight that had settled over my heart disappearing at the three simple words, and I grinned. But her avoidance of my eyes reminded me that this still wasn’t what I wanted.

I might have the child, but I still wanted the girl.

“Is there anything I can do to convince you to give me another chance, then?” I asked, scooting closer to her, until our knees were touching and I could wrap my hand around her wrist, pull her arms onto my lap.

“Think about it,” I insisted, seeing her hesitancy in the way she bit her lip. “We’ll have to be co-parents at the very least. You’ll need help, and I am dying to be around for as much of it as possible.”

Hope started to bloom in my heart when she, for the first time in the day, looked up at me from under her eyelashes. “Might as well try to be a family first.” My innermost secret desire poured out of me at the tiniest possibility of it becoming true, but the second her mouth fell open at my revelation, I knew we still had a long way to go before she believed me.

“You were right,” I rushed to say, holding her arms firmly so she wouldn’t pull away, like she threatened to do once the shock had left her. “You were right, I was never truly your boyfriend, so how can you deny me the chance of even trying?” I could see that my words got to her, because she froze in my arms, guilt evident in her eyes at the idea of closing the door on me.

I knew I was undeserving of the sentiment. She had every right to close the door, lock it. It would do her well to try to get away from me, because she deserved so much better. But I was selfish, and one thing I knew with absolute certainty: no one would ever love her as deeply as I did.

“Let’s try it,” I insisted, knowing I had to do whatever it would take to get through to her. “Officially. I’ll even propose.” The idea warmed me from the inside, a silly smile took over my face, reinforcing my idea that this was truly what I wanted.

Until she snorted.

“Jesus, no!” The shock from her statement was so strong, I let her go, allowing her to turn her back to me and hug herself before turning to face me again. “I’ve been married before, Chris. I don’t see the point in doing it again, and I most certainly won’t do it just because I’m pregnant.”

The anger that had been building up inside of me at her words suddenly disappeared, all at once, understanding where she was coming from. “It wouldn’t be just because of that for me,” I informed her. “I don’t want to be with anyone else.” At her frown, I concluded, “You’ve ruined other women for me.”

I knew how to pick my battles, and right now, the most important one was just getting her to stay with me, ring or no ring. So I let her digest my words as I stayed there, trying not to let my hope get the best of me as I watched her look around the room as she thought, avoiding my eyes before finally dragging them back to me.

“No wedding, okay?” 

Chuckling, I nodded.

“Okay.”

We just stood there, staring at each other, her blinking up at me with the smallest of smiles in the corner of her lips, until I realized…

“Wait, does that mean…?” I didn’t even get a chance to finish. She averted her gaze once more, faking nonchalance as she shrugged.

“You said it yourself. You were never even my boyfriend.” I was glad she wasn’t looking me in the eyes, because I could feel the tears gathering there. But just when I thought about my luck, she turned her face abruptly and our gazes met. There was such vulnerability in hers, I didn’t feel alone in my feelings anymore, and all thoughts of embarrassment left me, right as she nodded. “You deserve the right to try. And… I don’t want to do this alone.”

Raising my eyebrows, I approached her cautiously, arms reaching out to hug her to me. I knew that wasn’t what she really wanted to say, and she knew that I was aware of it. If she thought I didn’t care about it, that thought disappeared the second I pressed, “And?”

It took her a little while longer. Two seconds, maybe three. It wasn’t hesitation that I saw in her gaze, it was something else entirely. And right when her eyes started sparkling, leading my heart to clench inside my chest, she voiced the words I’ve been craving to hear all along.

“And I love you too.”

Now, I could relax.

#my series #chris evans story #chris evans rpf #rpf #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans fanfic #chris evans fic #chris evans fan fiction #chris evans x you #chris evans reader #chris evans reader insert #chris evans reader inserts #chris evans x reader

[sweetsbfreex]

toot.

Summary: your three=year-old joins Chris in his workout

Warnings: none!

Pairings: husband/dad!chris evans x reader

-

The pitter-patter of tiny feet against the extortionate floor hits your ears before the sound of a soft, cherub voice. 

“Mommy?” Evelyn calls out.

“I’m in here, honey.” You answer from the living-room, placing your book on your lap. 

She walks through, clad in a boxy patriot baby tee, her pampers, and pink socks. Evidently, it’s a very chill day in the Evans household. Beside her, her Mickey Mouse stuffie drags along the floor. 

“Hi mommy,” she waves her little hand as she comes closer. 

“Hi sweet pea. Is your cartoon all finished?”

She nods a yes. 

You go to respond, but she speaks first. You can tell a thought has popped into her mind with the way her eyes widen.

“Where daddy?” She looks around the room as she asks. His snuggly, strong figure is nowhere in sight, only his mug from earlier. 

“He’s working out in the gym downstairs.”

“Okay!” She turns swiftly, making her way to the basement.

Evelyn makes her way to the basement, down the steps carefully, with one hand clasped around the railing at all times. She walks into the expansive room filled with everything you need to exercise. It always makes it easier for days like this, where you or Chris can workout at home. Or have his personal trainer meet him there. 

“Daddy?” Evelyn calls out. 

Chris is in a prone position, his body supported on his palms and toes of his shoes. His chain clinks against the mat. With his biceps bulging and face glossed with sweat; Chris doesn’t hear the sound of his name until two pink socks stand in his view. 

Chris sits up and pulls his earbuds out. 

“You alright, honey?”

“Hi daddy,” she waves.

“Hi honey” he smiles and chuckles. 

“What are you doing?” She asks and slightly tilts her head to the side. 

Chris tilts his head too, as a quip. “Working out, so I'm all healthy, and can fight all the bad guys.”

“Me too!” 

“You want to be healthy too?”

“No, fight bad guys.”

Of course, Chris thinks to himself. 

“C’mere my brave girl.” Chris grasps her by her sides, tickling her protruding tummy as she squirms in his hold. “We’re gonna start with pushups. So you gotta get on the floor like this..”

She listens intently, but struggles, of course. But that was what her father’s support was for. In the end, she ends up with her butt in the air, unable to get her body flat like her father. But she pushes up and down on her arm, smiling up at Chris.

“I do it!” She laughs. 

“Look at you, you’re gonna beat all the bad guys’ butts.” 

He pats her diaper bottom before getting into position so he can continue. They workout side-by-side. A toddler and her father, the imagery almost ridiculous in the juxtaposition between the two. 

It only takes one set of ten push-ups, before he feels small hands on his back and a little grunt of her trying to lift her body onto him. So he drops his body into a plank, on his knuckles. And she plops herself on her father’s back, gleefully and giggly. 

“Ready?”

“Ready!” But it’s all muddled since her filled cheek is flat against his back. Her arms hanging against the side of his body, feet laid out straight, and her Mickey Mouse stuffy is left behind on the floor. 

He pushes up and down, slowly, cautious as not to disrupt her too much. But she could care less as she laughs, at some point wrapping her arms around his neck. 

“Daddy strong!”

“He has to be,” he answers with a laugh. “How else am I gonna protect you and mom, hm?”

“Dodger.” She answers seriously. 

“That’s true,” he rasps, his breath picking up as he continues to chat and workout. 

Some time passes before he gets close to the ground again. “Ride over.” He jokes. 

His toddler slides off his back to stand next to him

“Are you ready for the next part?” He asks. 

“Yeah!” She claps her hands together and jumps in excitement.

Chris walks over to the rack of dumbbells. He picks up the set of fifty and one five pound dumbbells. He sets the smallest in front of her and holds his in each hand.

“We’re just gonna lift some weights.”

Chris knows there’s no way his three-year-old would be able to lift the dumbbell, but she’s as stubborn as a mule and wants to be involved in every shape and form of her parents’ lives. While Chris does his bicep curls, he cherishes the way his little one stares at the dumbbell for a little too long, then peeks up at him in question. 

“You got it,” he encourages, a lopsided smile on his lips.

So she goes for it. 

She uses both her small hands to grasp the handle. She tries with all her little might, a small squeak past her lips represents her efforts…

Toot. 

“Oops.” She stands to her full height, an innocent look masking her face accompanied by an embarrassed grin. 

“You toot?” Chris asks in hysterics. 

“Wasn’t me,” she crosses her arms over her chest. “Dodger!” 

Chris can’t help but lean back as laughter takes over his body. She’s precious, he thinks to himself. Taking in her distraught face, puffed out cheeks, and furrowed eyebrows. 

“Not me, daddy!”

“Okay, okay,” he drops the dumbbells to pick up her upset figure. “You don’t gotta be embarrassed,” he dotes and kisses her cheek. 

-

It’s three in the afternoon before you know it. Chris always finishes his workout by three, so by this time you go to the gym with a strawberry coconut protein milkshake— and a strawberry shake in your other hand, since presumably Eve had joined her father. 

You walk into the sound of a familiar, deep laugh which brings an immediate smile to your face. And heat on your cheeks at the sight of a post-workout Chris. 

“Hi,” You greet the two as you walk in. 

“Look who’s here,” Chris turns towards you and wraps an arm around your waist to pull you closer. “Hi,” his eyes brighten at the sight of you and he pulls you in for a chaste kiss. 

“Hi, mommy,” Evelyn recovers quickly, a bright smile on her face as she waves.

“Hi, honey.” You kiss her cheek. “Did you have fun working out with dad?”

“Yes.”

You hold up both cups (one smaller and decorated with Bluey). Chris grabs Eve’s cup and hands it to her before grabbing his. He takes a sip, always looking forward to his wife’s smoothies. They’re always the perfect consistency and garnished with whatever fruit she has used. 

With your hand free, it naturally falls to the nape of Chris’ neck. Your fingers running through his soft locks. 

Eve is quick to take a sip, a milk mustache left behind her in haste. 

“What do we say?” Chris reminds her.

“Thanks, mommy!”

“Thank you, sweetheart.”

“Of course. Anything for my babies,” you squish their cheeks in jest. 

-

if you enjoyed pls don’t forget to reblog or give feedback if ur up to it &lt;3

#chris evans #chris evans x reader #chris evans fluff #chris evans imagine #chris evans one shot #chris evans reader insert #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans blurb #chris evans drabble #dad chris evans #chris evans x you #chris evans fic

[krirebr]

More Than This Masterlist

Summary: Arranged marriages have always been used to solidify business deals among the ultra-wealthy. Your stepfather wants to be in business with Harlan Thrombey, so now it's your turn.

Warnings: Heavy angst, age difference, adult themes, institutional sexism, explicit language, the slooowest burn - See each chapter for individual warnings. All of my work is 18+ - Minors DNI

One

Two

Three

Four

Series in progress

#series masterlist #ransom drysdale x you #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale #knives out #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans characters #fanfic #steve rogers #captain america #reader insert #arranged marriage au #kris wrote something #more than this #more than this masterlist #ce characters

[supercap2319]

Steve: *Looks around the room and sees it's a mess* "Y/N? What happened?"

Y/N: "Before or after sex with Ikaris? Because I can give you a full detailed report on what happened. See first, Ikaris bended me over the desk, and then he went behind me and shoved his giant coc–"

Steve: "–That's enough. I don't need to hear the details. Just clean it up."

#x male reader #male reader insert #male x male #ikaris x reader #Ikaris x male reader #richard madden #Richard Madden x male reader #mcu eternals #eternals #captain america #steve rogers #chris evans

[whosnearr]

"murderer" m. afton

summary: you and michael had one of those sweet and loving high school relationships some could only dream of having. you had met his family and you were close with him and his siblings. his parents liked you too. your relationship was perfect until one seemingly normal afternoon, michael took things too far. you were never really bothered by the fact that michael teased his brother. it was normal brotherly love. you understood because you had siblings of your own. but when you saw evan's nearly lifeless body hanging out of fredbear's mouth. you knew michael had fucked up. any decent human being knew that much.

cw: mentions of body deformity (?), angst, gender neutral reader, mentions of puke (nothing explicit), mentions of blood, bite of 83

word count: 1429

you looked down at evan in front of you. he was clutching his fredbear plush in his arms as he looked up at you. you put your hand on his head and ruffled his hair. "what's up, kid?" you asked in a slightly teasing tone as he swatted your hand from his little head. you would never tell anyone, but evan was definitely your favorite. he was sweet to you and he was a cute kid. michael was just his big, mean older brother.

"will you come to my birthday party?" he asked softly and smiled up at you. he was hopeful. you were the only person he was personally inviting. everyone else had been invited by his parents. most of the other guests were his parent's friends' kids. he really wanted you there. you were kind to him.

you picked him up and put him over your hip. you poked his nose and smiled. "of course i'll be there, little one," you said and pressed a kiss to his forehead. "i wouldn't miss it for the world."

he beamed and wrapped his arms around your neck. it was a sweet moment that you would cherish forever.

you waited for the party to roll around. you knew evan was scared of the animatronics and you had to be there. michael would tease him for it but maybe it was a normal childhood fear. on the day of the party, you came to the afton household before they all went to the diner. you kindly greeted mr. afton and elizabeth before heading upstairs to michael's room.

"heard its the kid's birthday today," you said, leaning up against michael's doorframe. he was putting on his shoes when you walked in. he was sitting on his bed, bent over and tying the laces of his converse.

"yeah, i'm gonna make sure to it'll be memorable for him. one he'll never forget," he said, a sneaky grin on his face.

"don't be too mean to the poor kid. it's his birthday after all. you have to be nice to him," you said, pushing yourself off the door frame. you stood before him, crossing your arms over your chest. "hold back a little, okay?"

"yeah, yeah. whatever," he said and stood up. he agreed absentmindedly. he was too busy thinking about all the terrible things he would do to him. you knew he wasn't really listening but you hoped he at least heard what you said.

after not long, everyone left and headed to the diner. you all piled into mr. afton's car, causing chaos in the backseat as he drove. clara and william sat in the front seat so the four of the kids had to squish together in the backseat. you had evan in your lap since he was the smallest one and you wanted to keep michael from tormenting him throughout the entire drive.

when you got to the diner, you all walked in together. you had been to the diner many times before, whether it was michael taking you there after school or you just going on your own. it was always fun and full of life. you pushed open the doors and looked at everyone sitting at the table and enjoying their pizza or bragging about prizes they had won. a smile danced on your lips as you walked in and headed to the first empty table with everyone. you sat down between michael and evan. you were sitting at the table closest to the animatronics so you could hear their soft singing and catch each detail of their jerky dance moves. you could even hear the animatronic parts clanking inside the fur suits.

you looked around to see everyone looking at evan. "hey birthday boy, everyone's looking at you," you said and nudged his shoulder. "happy birthday."

"thank you," he said with a soft smile as he briefly looked around at everyone. of course, as the owner's son, everyone knew it was his birthday. he looked away from everyone and instead looked up at the animatronics.

"don't be scared of them," you said as you noticed the fear flash in his eyes. "they just sing and dance a little. i'm sure they can sing happy birthday to you too!!"

he shook his head and crawled out of his seat. "no, not yet. thank you," he mumbled, still clutching his fredbear plush to him.

michael looked down at him with the same devilish grin from earlier glued to his face. "yeah don't be a scaredy cat, evan," he said in a demeaning tone as he picked up evan, setting him on his shoulders.

"michael," you warned as you saw tears forming in evan's eyes. he looked anywhere but at fredbear and springbonnie. "that's not even what i said. he's not a scaredy cat. he's just a kid."

"please put me down," he said softly and clutched to michael's head. he was getting too close to fredbear for his liking.

"oh, come on, he's okay!!" he said and glanced over at you. "they won't hurt you, evan!! they're just dumb robots," he lifted up evan closer to fredbears mouth which was slowly opening and closing with its terrible lip-syncing.

"michael!! stop!!" you said and reached out to evan. you glanced over your shoulder for a second to see mr. afton was gone. you looked around frantically not seeming to spot him anywhere. you looked back over to see evan's head nearing fredbears open jaw.

"it's fine," he said as tears streamed down evan's chubby cheeks. he was very clearly not okay.

"its not fine, mikey! he's crying! you're going too far," you grabbed evan's shirt gently, tugging it in a poor attempt to grab him.

"he always cries. he has to get over his fear eventually, right, evan?" he lifted his head up into fredbear's mouth. evan was sobbing hysterically at this point. you heard scattered laughter around the diner. this wasn't funny anymore.

"michael," you said in a stern tone and he looked at you. michael's hands were on evan's sides, holding him in place in fredbear's mouth.

"he's fi-"

CRUNCH!

the smile fell from michael's face and the diner fell silent as the loud sound ripped through the entire diner. you looked at evan to see his movements slow before his arms fell limp to his sides.

"evan?" you and michael said softly in unison. there was no response and evan's sobs came to a sudden halt.

"stop playing, evan," michael said just as blood started trickling down past evans neck and hairline.

your heart was pounding out of your chest and you felt sick. "oh my fucking god," you said under your breath and pushed michael out of your way. before you could even reach out to evan, you were pushed out of the way by mr. afton. michael looked down at his hands to see evan's dark red blood running down his fingers.

william was mumbling under his breath as he pried fredbear's jaw open and pulled evan out. he fell to his knees at the sight of his youngest son's head crushed and deformed for the pressure of the springlocks.

"michael," you said and turned to him.

he was staring at his hands and was utterly still. he couldn't think of anything to say or do. it was a joke. he took it too far. oh god let this be a joke. this had to be his imagination. he had to be having a nightmare. he didn't want this to happen. it was supposed to be harmless fun. evan always cries, how was he supposed to know? he looked up at you, a look of horror on his face. the guilt flooded his entire body as he fell down onto his knees, staring at his hands covered in his brother's blood.

"i told you to stop," you said, it took every muscle in your body to keep the tears in your eyes.

"i didn't know that would happen!!" he finally tore his gaze from his hands. a pleading look in his eye. "i-i didn't think-" he ran his blood-covered hands through his hair and fell down onto the floor. his body curled up in on himself as he felt his stomach churn. he was gonna puke.

"yeah, michael you didnt fucking think," you uttered, venom laced in your tone. "you're a murderer, michael," you said and looked away from him without another word.

you fell down next to mr. afton, leaving michael utterly defeated. he killed evan and now has to live with that forever.

#michael afton #michael afton x reader #teen michael afton #teen michael afton x reader #reader insert #y/n #fnaf #five nights at freddy's #fnaf four #fnaf lore #bite of 83 #evan afton #chris afton #crying child #fredbear #fredbear's family diner #angst #angst no comfort #character death #fnaf angst #michael afton x y/n #michael afton x you #michael afton angst #i felt like being evil lol sorry #afton

[incorrectcapsicle]

[game night]

Tony: [grabs Y/N by the arm] alright, everyone partner up.

Tony, whispering: if we lose, you're out of my will.

Y/N: I was in your will??

Steve, who hears the conversation from the kitchen: what?

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers imagine #chris evans x reader #chris evans x y/n #chris evans imagine #tony stark x reader #tony stark x y/n #tony stark imagine #robert downey jr x reader #robert downey jr x y/n #robert downey jr imagine #steve rogers #y/n #reader #captain america #chris evans #tony stark #robert downey jr #insert reader #chris evans character x reader #chris evans characters #incorrectcapsicle #incorrect quotes #incorrect avengers quotes #incorrect marvel quotes #incorrect mcu quotes #avengers #marvel #mcu