Chris Evans | NSFW Alphabet

Will you still do Chris Evans characters

Absolutely. Lloyd incoming 😘

Silence Speaks

A/N: Another short one, but recent events surrounding Someone's social media "unfollows" of friends and the questions that raised helped to develop this piece. Hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer: Another work of fiction. It’s made up. Seriously, no crystal ball in use or any “insider” knowledge from any “sources”.

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site, even if you give me credit. DO NOT REPOST MY FICS please! Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback are ALWAYS appreciated.

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Was it hypocrisy? 

Was it stupidity?

Was it ignorance?

Was it arrogance?

You couldn’t fathom how this situation had unfolded. You’d met at a friend’s Halloween party over a decade ago, and had kept in touch through DMs and texts, always being wary of the public getting any crumbs of your friendship. It was an easy camaraderie that often involved flirtatious comments, whether he or you were dating others or if you both were single, but you’d never crossed the line between friends and more.

At this moment you were glad you hadn’t. You hadn’t originally believed the rumors. Even the chatter among friends couldn’t confirm the existence of an actual relationship, or if it was yet another booty call or, as was becoming commonplace, a “PR” relationship. Then uncomfortable pictures of a public walk and awkward videos of childish behavior surfaced. You still couldn’t figure out what it was, despite articles saying they’d been together for months, even years according to some, all claims that went unsupported by named sources. You were left to your own thoughts, and having seen him in love and in relationships before, couldn’t help but notice how little the current situation resembled those previous interactions.

But you wanted to believe he’d found his “one”, even if it wasn’t you and you had to live with the specter of lost opportunities. Your friend’s happiness was important to you, and so you wished for his sake it was real. That maybe he hadn’t confided in you or those who’d been his friends even longer to keep it private, to protect it, to give him and her time to develop something lasting. 

The age difference bothered some in your group, and you understood the feeling. He even knew what you’d gone through - your father’s second wife was closer to your age than his, and that difference, while not obvious at first, resulted in his second divorce. You couldn’t help but remember your self-absorbed stepmother’s words when you’d confronted her as she left their house for the last time, leaving behind your heartbroken father: “I married a man who was supposed to take me places and make me the center of his world and take care of me, not expect me to be his housekeeper and cook while I watch him grow old.”

Your attention was drawn down to your phone screen as it vibrated again with yet another text message coming in from someone in your friend group. You’d been part of this group chat for years, but now were the focus of it for reasons beyond your control. The screenshots of comments her friends had made might have triggered many in your group, but they were far more personal to you. You felt as though you were being bombarded with hate about your religion, your ancestry, and even your stature, and while you always wanted to give people the benefit of the doubt, the revelations without any word of defense from her or claims about not agreeing with such comments or hatred or lines of thought were being interpreted as her endorsement.

That isn’t what bothered you. She was no one of importance to you yet, and at this point you had no interest in associating with her. What did bother you was his silence. You knew he’d seen the texts as well - he was, after all, part of this group chat. And while he’d publicly released photos of them together and not made any statements to contradict the reports of their relationships, which the public took as him “claiming” her as someone of seriousness to him, he also hadn’t made any public statements to refute her and her friends’ online behavior, leaving many to associate him with those viewpoints by default.

While you understood his need to have his long-time friends treat him no different after all this time, for you this situation was far more than whether he was or wasn’t in a relationship. It was personal on a very basic level, and you had been wrestling with the thought that you’d need to distance yourself from this group of friends, many of whom had become family to you, knowing they’d been friends longer with him than you and expecting at least a few of them to protect him during all this hoopla.

Some obviously did, at least in public, befriending the newcomers, liking and commenting on their posts, and so on. Some stayed silent but were still caught up in the circus when he unfriended them on his social media accounts, something quickly picked up on by fans. Others who’d never followed him were able to stay in the background, and still others like you had always been able to maintain their anonymity by keeping their social media accounts set to private, never having the need to be followed by strangers. 

Regardless of their social media interactions, you were pleasantly surprised by those who’d directly asked him in the group chat what he was thinking, advising him as to how it would impact the perception of those who didn’t know him. A few even questioned if the group as a collective was condemning or condoning his silence, noting how they individually were feeling targeted by her group’s comments and openly questioning if others felt the same way. Those same few had reached out, one or two privately to check in on your mental well-being and be one another’s support system, the other few in the group chat asking if you were okay.

He never responded in the chat to any of the back-and-forths. He didn’t answer any of the questions directed at him. You knew from those few who’d reached out to you that he didn’t check in with them either, leaving them feeling disgruntled, as though they weren’t as worthy as others of his concern or time.

You didn’t blame them, finding yourself in a similar position. He hadn’t been in touch with you. Not a phone call. Not a voicemail. Not a text or a DM. Not even a response to others pointedly asking in your friends’ group chat. Nothing but silence.

In light of present circumstances, his lack of contact brought to mind a quote from the Greek philosopher Plato: “Your silence gives consent.” It was used often by a favorite teacher during lessons about World War II and how certain groups came to power to commit horrific atrocities, but you’d learned through the years it could apply to many situations, including the one you were experiencing now. 

Your phone vibrated with another text. It was an invitation to a gathering at one of the friends’ homes, sent to everyone in the group chat. For a moment you had to think. Was it a birthday party for one of the groups’ offspring? One of the couples’ anniversaries? Celebrating someone’s new job? Maybe it was to watch the playoff games together while planning for the annual Super Bowl gathering in a few weeks. 

No matter the reason, you hesitated to respond. You knew facing some of the group would be an emotional minefield given their recent choices, yet part of you craved the comfort of time with good friends. 

While you struggled to find the appropriate words, the first response popped up. It simply asked one question.

“Are we going to discuss the elephant in the room?” 

The answer from the host who’d sent the invitation surprised you.

“Abso-f-ing-lutely! Time to clear the air before the Super Bowl.”

Your question as to the nature of the invitation was answered. It was none of the above. You still hadn’t responded, waiting for others to.

“Evans, spoke to your mom. She said you’re coming home for a few days. Since you’re riding the elephant, you in?”

You laughed out loud. The latest text was from one of the few who’d reached out to you, who’d shared their personal agita with much of the situation, and their concern over his lack of response. As your father would’ve said, there were no flies on that friend.

You waited. Other responses appeared on your screen. Some from the same ones to have befriended the newcomers seem to take offense at the comments directed at him. Some just sent smiley faces and confirmed they’d be there, and a few sent GIF responses, the best of which was the scene from “The Devil Wears Prada” where Stanley Tucci’s character warns everyone to “gird their loins”.

The response you were waiting for still hadn’t appeared.

Instead, you had another message pop up on your screen. From him. Not as part of the group chat. You were the sole recipient. 

You froze, as if he could see you through the phone’s camera.

“Y/N? Hey, haven’t talked in a while. Sorry I haven’t been in contact - been straight out with filming and stuff.  Are you going this weekend? I really want to talk to you before everyone gets together.”

The underwhelming tone of the text struck a nerve. That “stuff” didn’t keep him from ensuring pictures made their way onto social media or contacting other friends who had no qualms about sharing that he’d reached out to them. That “stuff” didn’t seem to stop him from liking and commenting on others’ posts or sharing the ones he had. That “stuff” did however seem to keep him too busy to ask about your life, to check in with you about how you might be feeling, to even indicate a like or leave a comment on a picture on your social media posts. In essence, that “stuff” illuminated the reality your relationship was more one-sided than perhaps you’d wanted to admit. 

You answered quickly before mulling your words over.

“What do you want to talk about?”

No niceties, no questions about his latest project or Dodger or his family or his love life or even if he was going to be there now that his friends knew he was in the area. Your curt wording was out of sorts for you, and you hoped he would sense something was off-kilter.

“Honestly, I’m hoping to see a friendly face there. Sounds like some in the group are a little pissed off at me, and I’m not sure why. Hoping you can help me get them to understand a few things. And I miss you.”

You would have been less shocked if he’d poured ice water over you, and the low self-esteem you grappled with for years started to make itself known. You started reading into the spaces between his words. He didn’t actually want to spend time with you. He was looking for someone to hide behind when called out by your friend group. Someone who checked the boxes, because you did, and if you defended him, it would go a long way into smoothing things over with people he’d been closer to for longer than you’d been around. 

The worst part? He knew your history. You’d discussed it over the years - your social anxiety making the process of establishing new friendships almost painful, your self-esteem being something you’d grappled with for years, and your past history of finding yourself in friendships with people whose actions and words over time not only revealed they were far less invested in the friendship than you, but that you “checked a box” to help their social standing.

You could feel your heart breaking over the thought that he was just like those others. That he had only befriended you, flirted with you, had interacted with you, because your friendship made him look better to others instead of wanting to be in your life and have you in his in some capacity that was more than superficial.

“Y/N? So are you going?”

You couldn’t find the words. You didn’t respond to his message. Instead you opened a new text message and send a quick response to the host. “I’ll be there. I think we all deserve some answers… and to know where we all stand.” You got a thumbs up emoji as a response.

Another text message, again from him.

“Hey, I know you read my message. I can see it. I also know you just texted that you’re going. I want to just talk to you before the get-together. Please. Talk to me. Please.”

You started typing.

“I’ll see you there, Chris. No need to talk before.” And to drive your point home, you added a picture of Plato and the quote to your response.

You saw the three dots appear, then disappear. Before they could reappear, you shut your phone off, and let your silence speak for you.

A request where reader has big breasts and chris loves to put his c*ck between and fuck it. Boobjob, blowjob, spitting, nipple tease/pinch

Can't Believe They're Real

A/N: From one big titty girl to another; enjoy. 💕☘️

You pulled your heels off, supporting your weight on the doorway of your shared bedroom with Chris.

“What are you looking at?” You glared playfully at Chris taking off his watch at the dresser.

“That dress.”

“What about you it?”

“Your tits.” 

“You’re obsessed.”

“Rightfully so.” He came up towards you, undoing his top button. Leaning down, placing a warm kiss onto your lips. 

His hands going to your waist to pull you closer as his mouth drew down towards your chest. 

Pushing aside the fabric to reveal your bare double F breasts, bouncing for joy, now released from the confines of the fabric, supporting their sheer mass. 

“Jesus they’re so big... can’t believe they’re real” He murmured against the supple skin. 

“Not like you haven’t seen them before.”

“They amaze me every time.” He kissed your areola, narrowly avoiding the hard tip of your nipple. 

“Give me my milk momma.” He smirked at you, his mouth engulfing as much your boob as he could fit in his hungry mouth. He swirled around the circle, taking his time as he nibbled and sucked, feeling the nib harden in his mouth. 

You moaned in pleasure before you could scold him for the crude remark. 

“Go lie down on the bed.”

He slapped your ass, guiding you to the bed. 

Your hair fell back across the pillow, landing with a thud, as Chris nudged you onto the mattress. Waisting no time he mounted you, his lips returning to yours as he palmed your breast in his hands.

“So fucking beautiful baby.” He moaned into your mouth.

Sitting up, he quickly fiddled with his pants, pulling them down and moving his knees on either side of your chest. His knees resisting the gravity of your breasts to fall on either side, creating a gaping crater separating the two enlarged masses of fat. 

Spitting straight between the valley of your breast, he continued to lick and suck at the area. 

Grabbing a bottle off his bedside table, he squirted a small trickle of massage oil onto your boobs. 

“Fuck I have never seen a better sight.” He groaned as he massaged his favourite stress balls. 

You boobs glistening in the light of your bedside table. 

Positioning his cock in your valley and grabbing as much as your boobs as he could, he cushioned his cock into a cocoon of your tits. Slowly, he started thrusting into the glorious tight, crevice of your inner boobs. 

Deciding to support your lover’s adventurous endeavour, you forced your chin to your neck, opening your mouth and stealing licks of his bulbous head as it appeared.

“Jesus’ baby what are you doing to me?” You gazed up at him innocently as the speed of his thrusts continued. 

Not wanting to leave you out of the fun, he grabbed the hard nipple between his finger and his thumb, twisting ever so slightly back and forth like he was tuning a radio. 

“Oh my god Chris!”

“Shhh baby just enjoy it, let daddy take care of you.”

As he roughly manhandled your nipple, continuing his assault between your smoshed together boobs, he increased his pace, using your boobs like another hole in which he wanted to conquer.

Finally,  you felt the warm liquid release fall onto your chin, tasting the salty droplets that landed in your mouth, most of it forming a Pollock painting on your boobs, now featuring warm, sticky opaque streaks. 

Chris reached across grabbing his phone, taking a picture of the masterpiece he just created on your chest. 

“I’ll never get sick of these.” He purred

“You don’t say?” You quipped back, giggling at his infatuation with your chest. 

What do you think about Before We Go? Do you like it?

Chefs kiss 😘

They come to other people's page and tell them how to manage it?! Wow...

OH I KNOW HONEY

ok i have request where after Liam Hemsworth divorced with Miley Cyrus and news spread out about it. Liam was unhappy but glad he came back to his family. One day, he was invited to his highschool reunion in a local bar where he was reunited with his ex-girlfriend, reader.

Nostalgia

A/N: OK THIS WAS MY SHIT! Thank you sooo much for this request. I have been obsessed this man since his Elephant Princess days (real ones know 😘) and its absolutely insane to me that I was flipping from Elephant Princess to Hannah Montana and never thought "Oh yeah these two will end up together." Anyways, I had this down to a T, cause southern hemisphere gal here. And because I may of gotten too into character I have provided a friendly dictionary below for clarity. ☺️

sook/having a sook: whingeing, complaining, having a tantrum but where you go all sad and sulky.

dickhead: term of endearment. Your bestmates are dickheads, you love them.

deck: Porch, veranda, that wooden flooring with no roof just outside the back of your house.

pub: bar but definitely not a club

the local: the pub, but your local pub where everyone goes. A single venue in a small town. Think Coyote Ugly...

Logies: The Australian Emmy's yet more chaotic, and an ugly little award.

Neighbours: Iconic Australian Show, like Days of Our Lives, super long and only your grandma watches it. Arguably better that American stuff though.

are just something else: A compliment, you're special.

Reckon: Like saying I think or I bet with confidence i.e. I reckon it'll rain today... ya reckon? Like saying you really think so.

Disclaimer: All characters and events written, even those based on real people are entirely fictional and are no representation or comment of said characters in real life.

Liam signed switching off his phone once he landed at the airport. Ignoring the onslaught of texts and messages that arose from the TMZ article on his divorced. 

  It was never his plan to be 30, divorced and sulking back to his childhood home. Yet here he was. Craving a long hug from mum and an ice cold beer.

  “Welcome home honey”

  “Thanks mum”

 He pulled her into a tight hug making his way into the passenger seat.

  They drove in silence on the way, his head against the window looking at the familiar sights. His mum glanced worried looks at him 

  “Hey so Luke came over and told me you reunion is tomorrow night what good timing!”

  “Yeah, I know I got the email I’m not going.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I’m 30 years old, the whole world knows about my divorce to a well-known former childhood star and my brother is fucking Thor” his snapped at her slightly at the end

  “Oh, stop being such a sook… you should go it’ll be good for you to reconnect with your roots, they always say when you don’t know which path to go down, go back to start and try again.”

  “I just don’t know if I’m up for it.”

  “You might change your mind when you know who’s going…”

  “Yeah whatever.” 

Chris laid out on the deck, letting the Australian sun warm his body, in nothing but sunglasses and board shorts he was finally getting into the grove of relaxing until a sudden jerk of his deck chair meant he was hitting the ground.

  “WHAT THE FUC-“

  “Long time no see dickhead.”

  “Holy shit! Joel!”

  Joel was Liam’s best mate from high school.

  He pulled his old friend into a bro hug.

  “Heard from your bro you were back wanted to see it for myself… you haven’t gone all LA on us have ya?”

  “Nah I haven’t.”

  “Good cause you’re coming to the pub tonight.”

  “Is that where they’re having the reunion?”

  “Great detective skills Sherlock.”

  “Nah mate can’t we just hang out here.”

  “And drink wines on the couch with your mum while watching Neighbours? I think the fuck not. Come on you’re not too famous for the local.”

  “Fine. One beer though.”

  “Yeah, that’s what they all say.”

  He grabbed his beer from the barman and made his way through the crowded pub, offering “Heys” and “Good to see you’s” until he landed in a quiet spot in the back. Sulking down with a sigh and sipped his beer, watching the scenes in front of him. 

  It was comforting to be home, familiar sights, faces and smells but couldn’t help the pit in his stomach of feeling like an outsider. 

  YOUR POV:

  “Hey stranger.” You stood in front of your sulking ex-boyfriend, as his head rose at the sound your voice. 

  “Y/N, Hey, shit look at you!” Liam beamed when his eyes connected with yours, pulling him out of his haze. You couldn’t help but spot the hint of sadness on his face. 

  He couldn’t believe his eyes. You looked more beautiful since he last saw you, relaxed with your hair out, a little textured, clearly air dried after a late afternoon dip. Your skin pink from sun exposure, in its early stages of what was sure to develop into a tan. His eyes scanned over your body, the summery dress leaving little to the imagination, with your strong legs on full display and ample chest held together by a thin piece of string. 

  “Same old me… move over” The large man scooted on the bench, opening the space for you to sit down, drink in hand. While it was a two-person bench, his sheer size left little space between the two of you, his knees touching yours. Moving his arm to drape across the back, he gave you a little more room but now you were borderline engulfed by his arm. A tinge of nostalgia hitting you remember the same position, lying down in bed, your body snuggled up into his warm armpit. 

  “What you been up to? Heard you got a job in the city.” 

  “Yeah, but unlike you I’m not too good to come home once in a while.” You took a swig of your drink, feeling a little tipsy at the familiar taste of alcohol. 

  “I’m here aren’t I?” He quipped at you. 

  “Barely. It’s not like you to sit in a corner and sook.” Reminiscing about all those nights, he spent singing on top of the tables in the very pub you sat talking in now. 

  “Fuck everyone’s been calling me a sook lately.”

  “Cause you’re acting like one… what’s got your panties in a bunch?”

  “Do you not get internet at your joint or something?”

  “No, I just don’t spend my days googling my high school ex. So, where’s Hannah Montana?”

  “In LA.”

  “Why? does she not like it here?”

  “No, I just didn’t think I’d take my ex-wife to my high school reunion.”

  “EX Wife?”

  “Since 3 days ago yeah.” He took another swig of beer.

  “Shit, Li I’m sorry.”

  “Nah it’s fine, it’s fucking whatever.”

  “Well, it’s not “whatever” you had a connection with someone, it hurts when you lose them. And nothing anyone says can really make the pain feel better.”

  “Is that how you felt when I went to LA?” A sudden tension fell over you two. How could he ask that?

  “Yep.” She popped the P. Avoiding his intense gaze on you. 

  “Well, you’re in a much better spot than me now.” He shuffled in his seat realising he hit a soft spot. 

  “Doesn’t mean the pain magically goes away.”

  “Are you still mad?”

  “Still mad? you told me you loved me and wanted to get an apartment together then we graduated, and you fucked off to LA. I’m not mad at all Liam, I’m hurt.”

  “I’m sorry it was selfish.”

  “Especially considering I would have gone with you if you just asked.”

  “No, you wouldn’t, you would of hated it.” He tsked. 

  “You don’t know that. And you will never know because you never asked. I loved you Li I would have followed you to Antarctica if that’s what you wanted. You were so passionate about acting I was so excited to see your dreams come through I just didn’t expect to be excluded from them.”

  “What do you think would have happened if I didn’t go?” He pushed.

  “Honestly?”

  “Honestly.”

  “We probably would have stayed together, brought a house on the beach, I’d be on my third baby by now and you’d keep doing local TV, maybe take me to the Logies hahaha.”

  “Why didn’t you call me?”

  “I did… like twice and your assistant would always answer and tell me you’re not taking personal calls at this time or some shit, when I saw you shacked up with Miss Best Of Both Worlds, I stopped.”

  “I wish you didn’t.”

  “Why?”

  “Cause then maybe I wouldn’t be sooking here right now.”

  “Yeah, well too late for us to go over what we would have done differently.”

  You both sat silence letting the truth of your words sit in. 

  “Do you want to go for a walk on the beach?” He looked at you, eyebrow raised. 

  “Do you even remember the path?” You scoffed at him,

  “Of course, I do, the secret passage near Batty’s path… where we used to ya kno-”

  “OKAY I GET IT, good to see you haven’t forgotten everything, now come on.” You slapped his chest, jumping up out of the seat, Liam closely followed behind you. 

  You walked in silence, listening the waves crash. His hands in his pockets and you holding your shoes and bag in the other. The sandy shore lit up by the moonlight, a light breeze in the air. 

  “I don’t think there’s such a thing as too late ya know.” He piped.

  “What you mean?”

  “Well, you reckon it’s too late for us but who’s to say it’s too late maybe it’s just the beginning.”

  “You’ve had too many drinks.” You laughed him off

  “No Y/N I’m serious.” He grabbed your wrist, stopping you along the shore. The tide coming as the water’s edge tickled your bare feet. 

  “Hearing you describe what could of been… honestly sounds pretty good right now. You think I’ve gone all too big for my boots, but this place is still home to me ya know… why do you think I came here when everything went to shit?” You looked up at him, barely making out his facial expression in the dark. From what you could see, he was a broken boy, he seemed wrecked, and you decided take his words seriously. 

  You sighed

  “Cause when you don’t know what to do you should turn around and go from where you started.” 

  “Exactly but I think I know what I want to do next”

  His hand, falling to your face, thumb rubbing your cheek, he leaned in and you breathe caught in your throat. Your body once a little chilly now warmed by the sensation of his mouth on yours. What started with a tender kiss turned into a deep passionate embrace. It was different to all those times before, mainly due to his now beard face rubbing against your skin and the reality that his kissing skills had definitely improved. 

  “Liam...” You pushed him off you, hands grazing the hair exposed on his unbuttoned chest, he felt firm and warm. Like the perfect mattress you could sleep peacefully on top of him.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “There’s no point, you’ll go back to your big city and forget about me all over again once you see some leggy model.”

  “Not happening.”

  “Doubt it.”

  “I didn’t get a return ticket Y/N.”

  “What?”

  “I’ve been looking at places, I’m here indefinitely.”

  “Well, that’s good but still doesn’t mean we are going to work.”

  “Can we at least try?”

  “So, you can break my heart a second time?”

  “I like to see it as giving me a very generous second chance to prove I made a mistake the first time.”

  “I don’t know Liam, its all ve-“

  He cut you off with his kiss, planting his lips on you a second time and this time you didn’t push him away. Your hands instinctively going to his now long locks, running your hands through the familiar boy now a man. Your mind rushed with memories of late nights sneaking out to go play on the beach, always ending up curled in a towel on the shore counting stars. You felt 18 all over again and the pain of loss slowly seeped away with him in your arms again.  

  You both pulled out, panting at the sudden passionate embrace.

  “Please?”

  You licked your lips, biting slightly on your lower lip.

  “Kiss me one more time and I’ll see.” You grinned at him.

  “Fuck me you are just something else Y/N” He pulled you into his arms, you squealed as he took you running with him into the ocean. Dropping your bag and shoes before the sudden shock of cold saltwater hit you as you were thrown into the blue. Coming up for air, you stood waist deep in water, smoothing your now soaked hair back, you were met with a hysterically laughing Chris

  “You son of a-“ Swimming over to him, you immediately jumped on him, wrapping your legs around his waist, pulling him down into the water with you. Making sure he was as equally saturated as you.

  He pulled you both out this time, you still firmly clinging onto him in the Koala position. Laughing you both passed, looking into each other’s eyes, you kissed his salty lips again as he held you against him in the water, under the moonlight. And in that moment, it felt like no time had passed at all. 

And Finally...😃 I really love this story. How did you write everything so well? It was really worth the wait. The dialogues were great. Nick was exactly as sweet as he was in the movie. I loved this part :

“Well, it’s Nick, and if that’s not good enough its Nick Vaughan born 14th of June 1981. Professional failing trumpet player, full time adored son, part time knight in shining armour, and my social security number is 79-.”

Now the question is this. How can I wait for the next episodes? Thank you very much, you are great, my dear💛💛💛

And...he is one day younger than Chris? :)

OMGGGG THANK YOU SO MUCH LOVELY 🥺🥺

Next part will take a little but i PROMISE not as long as last time 💕💕

(i missed up Chris's bday thats why... but shhh)

YOU GOT THE ICK TOO RIGHT??? why is it so hard for this man to date a girl closer to his age? one whos not stupid too (makes him stupid for dating her)? why is he playingggg

Badly! But my issue isn’t her age it’s hanging out with racists and the way that as a grown ass woman she presents herself like a child, infantilises herself and plays innocent to sell money.

My ick with him is associating with that and not seeing an issue yet happily parading around with her and her little friends. Not to mention that goddamn video 🤮

hi are you also comfortable with writing incest and step incest smut?

No ✨

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

Good Bunny

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

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

You lay in your silk nightie, face down on the bed, mindlessly scrolling through your phone until you felt the mattress sink and a familiar figure appear next you, rubbing their hand up your calves and towards you partly exposed ass.

“Hey bunny.” Ransom eyes were fixated on your lower back.

“My eyes are up here.” You moved your head to the side, smiling at your handsome husband.

He moved to lie on the bed, hand still lightly moving back and forth into your fleshy backside.

“I had an idea bunny.” He looked you in the eyes now, mischievous written all over his face.

“What is it?”

“You know it’s such a waste, having an ass like that and not using it for good.”

“What you mean? I’m always shaking it.” You wiggled your ass a bit for emphasis. Ransom groaned at the ripple that flew through the flesh, he grabbed it lightly and gave it a soft smack being met with a small yelp from you.

“Not that bunny, it’s just that I’ve been lucky enough to fuck 2/3 of your holes and thought maybe we should go 3 for 3..”

Your eyes widened at the suggestion.

“We don’t have to. I’d go slow and if you hated it we’d stop but I know how you like to try new things and-.”

“Would it hurt?” You looked at him, worry on your face.

“Yeah, but so did your first time and now you love it.”

You bite your lip “That’s true.”

Ransom moved closer to you, lying next you and holding out his arm for you to snuggle closer. His hand running down your back, rubbing your ass softly.

“We can start slow.” He purred, pulling you up by your chin to look at him so he could gauge the emotions of your face.

“How does that work?” You were anxious but curious.

“Well, we’d start with my tongue...” The mention of his tongue made you perk up.

“Like I always do.” He chuckled. “And I’d move it lower, run it around your rim.”

“And then when your you’re in doggy and nicely turned on… I’d get the wet stuff from your pretty little pussy and slip in a single finger.” He held up the number one.

“It wouldn’t hurt, you’d love it… you like feeling full don’t you bunny?” You nodded submissively at your handsome husband.

“And then, when you’re really ready, I’d get you a pretty pink buttplug and while you’re all hot, heavy and distracted, I’d slip it in your ass.” You gasped as Ransom.

“I’d give you a little time to adjust and it would only be a little bigger than my finger.” You nodded agreeably, thoughts of buttplugs danced through your head.

“Would it get stuck?” You asked innocently, Ransom’s head threw back in a chuckle.

“No baby it has a stopper, I wouldn’t let that happen… you know why?”

“Why?” A smile was showing now as you were impressed with your ability to make him laugh.

“Because I’d have control of it, slowly pushing it in and out of you.”

“And then what?” You were curious now, moving onto of Ransom so your hands were on either side of his chest, his hand still firmly on your ass.

“And then when you’re about to cum, I’d pull it out with a pop.” He moved his mouth and mimicked the sound of the word for emphasis. “You’d lose your mind bunny.” You lay your head on his chest, gazing up at him, hanging on his every word.

“And then overtime, the buttplugs would get a little bigger and longer each time I fucked you until I think you’re ready.”

“Ready for what?”

“For my cock in your ass.” He said it so casually, the smirk on his face never leaving.

You bite your lip at his salacious comment. Thoughts clouded your head and a wet spot formed in your panties at the thought of Ran filling all your holes.

His digit slowly slides up and down your crack, teasing the hole under the thin strip of fabric.

After that discussion, Ransom’s touches and slaps on your ass became more frequent.

Grabbing a bunch of fat to pull you closer.

Teasing your crack as you were standing and occupied, dragging his finger up and down.

He took you to the sex shop letting you pick out whichever buttplug you wanted, you naturally chose the pink one with a sparkly stopper.

And lube, a whole bottle of anal relaxing lube.