Me Getting The Ick Again And Putting All My Fic Reqs Back In The Folder.

Welcome to Boston

NO MINORS ALLOWED

an: this wasn’t requested but I’m high asf right now (not on purpose bc I have work in 30 minutes), but I thought this was cute. Enjoy ☀️

tw: smoking weed, fluff, reader is 21+

You lounged on the bed flipping through the Firestick waiting for Chris to finish getting himself and Dodger ready for the day. You both woke up past 11:30, the soothing sounds of outside keeping you lull. It's rainy and cold which makes the perfect weather to stay in and watch movies, but you couldn't find one.

It wasn't necessarily a horror movie vibe; maybe tonight. Action? No. Drama? Ugh. You slam the remote down on the bed and flop backwards letting out a big sigh.

"Heeey. What's all that for?" Chris asked walking over the bedroom threshold. You sat up briefly taking in the physique of his sweatshirt covered torso and gray lounge shorts,

"Babe, you're not cold?"

He shook his head, "Heater's on," he said crossing to the bed and plopping down,

"What's with all the sighing?" He started to rub his hand over your thigh as you started to answer him,

"There's nothing to watch."

"There's nothing to watch or you don't know what to watch?"

"Is there a difference?"

"I guess not," he said with a chuckle. "What about a psycho-thriller? You love those."

"I don't have the mental capacity for that right now."

"What about a comedy? You don't have to pay full attention and you get a few laughs."

"Hm. Fine, I'll give a look."

"I'm gonna grab a quick snack. Want anything?"

"Just water please." He nodded his head and walked out. You scrolled through the endless pages of comedic movies and landed on a comedic duo you and Chris both loved. You hadn't seen the movie, but the synopsis sounded interesting. You cued it up to start when Chris walked back in the room,

"I thought you were getting a snack."

"We don't have much. We've been eating on the leftovers my mom left I guess we didn't notice. Find anything?"

"I'll Instacart some stuff here and yeah! It's called "The Interview" with Seth Rogen and Dave Franco. Have you seen it?"

"No, I've never heard of it, but okay." You were quickly ordering groceries when you realized Chris hadn't moved from across the room. Feeling eyes on you, you looked up and at him, who was grinning like a kid.

"What? What did you do?"

"Nothing... yet."

"Yet?"

"Just.. found something that may make this day even better."

"What did you find?"

Chris brought his hands from behind his back and held up the baggie of weed and swishers, giving them a very enticing shake. You looked at what he was holding and shook your head, letting a small smile creep.

"Oh you just happened to find that?"

"It was in the back of a drawer in the kitchen. I didn't think I had any left."

"Baby...you know I gave that up. Weed is weed. It's nothing special."

"You gave up SoCal weed. This is Boston weed."

"And what is 'Boston Weed'?"

"The shit that'll change your life." You looked at him for a second before giving in. He gleefully walked to his side of the bed and climbed in. He got comfortable, handing you your water and opened the baggie.

"Whoa!" You both exclaimed. The potent odor of the raw flower permeated the room before a spark was even lit. Chris brought the baggie to his nose and inhaled deeply.

"Smells like a Saturday filled with Looney Toons and Captain Crunch."

"Babe, how old is this stuff?" You asked, hinting that it may not be safe for consumption if he was smoking it in his teens.

"Like 6 months." You rolled your eyes and ginned looking back at your phone at how childish he could be sometimes. You were finishing the delivery order while Chris took the nearest book and set up to roll.

"They should be here by the time the movie is over. It's gonna take a little longer because of the rain."

"That's fine. We can keep ourselves occupied," he said holding up the tightly rolled blunt.

"Chris Evans, that is a beautifully crafted j. Willie Nelson himself would be proud.

"Thank you, baby," he said holding the blunt to his lips and lighting it. You watched as he inhaled the smoke deeper into his lungs. He leaned back on the exhale, head hitting the headboard. He kept his eyes closed as he took another hit, holding it in and passing you the blunt. You looked at it for a second and then back at Chris who was already glossy eyed.

You took a deep breath and put the blunt to your lips, sucking in the potent smoke. You held it as long as you could before exhaling followed by a string of heavy coughing,

“Oh what the fuck,” you said between coughs.

“I told you that shit is different,” he said laughing at your pain.

You swallowed hard and took another hit after your chest stopped burning so much. The same thing happened, but not as strong. Then you went for a third,

“Whoa whoa hey. Puff puff pass, remember? And take it easy. This’ll have you stoned into next week.” You two passed the blunt between yourselves until you noticed the movie was already on. Your attention turned to the screen and you zoned out until your brain registered something funny which enticed you to laugh.

The movie was a little more than half over when your stomach started to growl,

“I think I have the munchies,” you said without your eyes diverting from the film.

“I know I do.”

“Wanna get a snack?”

“We have to go to the store.”

“Oh yeah. I can’t drive for shit right now, should we walk?” You asked holding your hand out in front of your face as a test of sobriety. Chris slowly turned his head to look out the window,

“It stopped raining. Should we walk?”

“Wait. Didn’t I say we should walk?”

“No you said you were hungry.”

“Oh yeah. Um, yeah. Let’s get dressed.”

The two of you took almost 20 minutes to get ready to walk half a mile but you finally made it to the front door. Chris got distracted yanking your hood over your head and calling you his little Eskimo baby. The two of you giggled in the foyer for almost 2 minutes before grabbing the knob.

When the door opened, both of you instinctively inhaled the fresh air deeply, letting the chilled Boston air hit your flushed faces. You smiled slightly as the beautifully golden sun beamed down on your cheeks. The sky after the rain was your favorite. You were about to take a step, when…

“I can’t.”

“What?” Chris asked looking down at you.

“I can’t do it,” you replied starring blankly ahead at the slick driveway.

“Do what, baby?”

“Move.”

“Ha! You can’t move?”

“No.”

“Do you want me to carry you?”

“Then people will know for sure that I’m high.”

“Babe, people are going to know. Or they might not because they’re probably high too.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive. Just walk slow. We’re not in a hurry.”

“Okay,” you said as you reached for his arm to help guide you down the front steps. The two of you walked linked together to the corner mart. You picked out everything you have a craving for or might crave later. You went to check on Chris and saw he abandoned the “pick what you can carry” and opted for a whole ass basket.

“Babe.”

“Don’t look at me like that. It’s supposed to rain all weekend and I’m not coming back out if I don’t have to.” His logic wasn’t flawed so you emptied your arms into the basket and walked the rest of the store with him. The security guards must’ve had a good ol’ time watching you two laugh at absolutely everything and do silly dances in the isles to the music.

It was finally time to check out and you waited patiently, thinking about what you would eat first…or if you should elevate the high and then eat. You were pulled from your thoughts when Chris put his hand around your waist and walked you out of the store. Luckily the baggers were great because you only had three bags each to carry back home.

You were in mid conversation when you walked up the driveway and Chris stopped midway. You were finishing your sentence when you looked at him,

“What?”

He looked at the bags in his hands and then back up to the door as if something wasn’t making sense. You followed his eyes up to the porch and dropped the bags in your hands to cover you face.

“We already ordered groceries,” Chris said as he turned to you.

“Yes. Yes we did.”

“Hopefully the power doesn’t go out,” he said picking up the bags you dropped and waking up to the door. You couldn’t help but let out a little giggle at the oopsie you both made.

‘Maybe we can donate some’, you thought as you entered the house and closed the door.

Me writing smut on my computer during a serious zoom meeting about budgeting (I think I zoned out)

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

Eat Shit Ransom

Chris held the bowl of popcorn in front of your face.

“Aww thank you.”

“What’d you pick.” Chris plopped down next to you, stretching out his arms across the back of the couch.

“Don’t groan.” You gave him a warning look.

“Oh Jesus”

“Knives Out.” You bit your lip quickly

“Argh honey…” Chris threw his head back with a sigh.

“I said don’t groan!”

“Babe we have 5 different streaming subscriptions with 1000s of movies why do you want to watch the same person you see everyday?”

“I don’t want to watch you… I want to watch him.” You gestured to the promo banner of Ransom smirking.

“Fine you win but I’m going on my phone.”

The movie went on with you snacking of your popcorn and Chris occasionally looking up at you as you were engrossed in the same movie you’ve seen multiple times.

You hummed contently almost purring when Ransom came onto the screen, adjusting your position on the couch, thighs rubbing together.

“That’s it.” Chris snatched the remote off the table, pausing the movie

“Hey!”

“He’s a fucking murderer Y/N.” Chris raised his voice slightly.

“So what if he’s the devil Chris, at the least the devil has a job!”

“He doesn’t have a job, he’s a preppy rich asshole who MURDERS.”

“He’s hot!”

“It’s me! I’m right here!”

“Omg” you smirked with realisation

“What?” He scoffed

“You’re jealous.”

“Of a murderer…”

“No you’re jealous I find Ransom hot.”

“Pft I am not.” Chris leaned back, waving you off

“Yes you are, that’s why you hate watching it.”

“Do you hear how ridiculous this conversation sounds, Y/N, that’s me in a sweater.”

“It’s not just the sweater… although I love the sweater… it’s the confidence, the suave, the dickish behaviour… the clean shave.”

Chris’s mouth dropped “Take that back you love my beard!”

“I’m messing with you.” You turned to him, cupping his bearded cheek in your hand.

Chris groaned, head falling into your chest.

“I’m sick of that murderous asshole.”

“I prefer you if that helps.” You smiled down at him.

“I think I just like Ransom so much cause it’s you being very very sexy.” You ran your hands through his hair.

“You think I’m sexy?” He smirked up at you

You nodded “But can you say the thing in the voice just once… please?”

Raising upwards, stretching out his neck a little, he took a deep breathe, moving his faces inches from yours, the classic Ransom smirk on his face

“Eat shit.”

You squealed in delight, mounting his lap.

Pretty Special was soooo good. Love it😚 do accept request for Chris characters? Like Nick Vaughan from Before We Go

I do! Feel free to request 🥰🍀

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Chris & Dodger Evans Dividers - 1

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Part 2 Coming Soon!

If you'd like a different colour or to use the other styles against a different image then drop a comment and I'll send it in a message

Dividers List

You’re Mine

Summary: Your FWB Chris Evans likes you more than you think.

Word Count: 2957 Pairing: Chris Evans X plussize!reader / curvy!reader

a/n: First time publishing my work! There’s more if you want it. I saw a gap in the market and wanted to fill it (no pun intended).

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

Warnings: SMUT MINORS DNI. 8k filth, sub! kinda, daddy kink, overstimulation, unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), dirty talk, biting, praise kink, rough sex, orgasm, cum play, P in V, horny af!ChrisEvans, dom!Chris, squirting, Boston accent, cellulite, stretch marks

You lay in bed with your FWB of 3 months now, Chris Evans. For some reason now the whole experience was absolutely mortifying to you. You had a normal 9-5 and never thought moving to LA for an amazing work opportunity would lead you to become the anonymous girl who fucks a celebrity on the side. The whole thing was made worse by the fact you started to catch feelings. Your deluded-self lead you to believe you were the girl he was going to somehow ditch the playboy lifestyle for. But you reason that he didn’t exactly help the situation. For his cocky charming on-camera demeanour, Chris was rather reserved, he’d blush when you’d look at him for a little too long, he’d never rush off after one of your racy nights spent in either hotel rooms or his house, he brought you coffee more than once and knew your order by heart. He had depth, seemed genuinely interested when you went on and on about; your work and its inner complexities, your minor conflicts or misadventures in your day, the books you were reading or the artists you adored, your philosophy on life and your insistence that Rick and Morty is the most genius show ever.

But maybe he was just very clever about the way he operated.

Although you noticed how comfortable it got when your toothbrush lived at his sink, your favourite tea was stocked in the cupboard, tampons in the bathroom drawer, the keypad to his house became muscle memory and Dodger would wag his tail and race around your feet whenever you walked in.

And Chris noticed it to, a pair of your underwear in his laundry, a strand of hair on his sweater, the intoxicating scent of your perfume on his pillow. He’d chuckle to himself at the recent memory of you, inhaling the pillow with force.

At first, it was comical, this dirty secret you kept from everyone, family, best friends, roommates. You’d walk out of a club from a late night, a smug smirk on your face, after getting that routine call from Chris at 3am, growling on the phone for you to get your ass to his. You’d wish everyone a brief farewell and book an uber to his house.

The security who manned the fort into the gated community knew you by name now. Giving a terse smile as they held in a major Hollywood secret. You always thought about if whether there were other girls who’d come on other nights? What did they look like? Did security remember their names as well? They probably had a log titled “CHRIS EVANS FUCKBUDDIES” with all our names and numbers, maybe even a numbering as well, if one girl got too cocky and showed up unannounced so they knew “who to send away” or “Who to not let in if one was already in” you thought to yourself one night as you said hello through the rolled down backseat window.

Of course, this was all a theory in your head, to keep you grounded to the reality of the situation, you weren’t special, and he was using you just as much as you him for some good fun and a cool story to tell the grandkids. You kept it straight during the periods you weren’t together; you’d only ever come when he asked, he always texted or called first. Yet, he made it difficult with the sporadic Dodger video or a selfie of him on set. You rationalised he would do a mass message and they weren’t personal.

The anxiety built up as you played ping pong in your head with the idea of him. You grew tense under his touch, he forearms draped over your waist, supporting his weight with his other arm as he hovered to his side, slightly shadowing over you. He was tracing the outline of your lace bra, generously stretched by the sheer mass of your FF breasts, they were real but didn’t sit up perfectly without support like the fake ones do. They sagged lightly down your chest with a gap separating them down the middle, you hated how you had to push them together with endless supports to get them to be friends and show the truth effect of their mass.

His hands then trailed down to your stomach, using your protruding stretch marks as a road for his fingers. He dipped into the crevices of your rolls smoothing along your skin down the path to where your belly curved outwards like a protruding pregnant lady hanging just so lightly over your public bone so you could still see the tips of toes looking down. His hand gliding along your thigh, finger pads landing softly in the dimples of your cellulite.

You didn’t hate your body by any means taking any chance to show off your luscious curves in tight clothes. But you were often taken aback by Chris’s interest in it. Of course, you stalked him, read the gossip sites, knew his type, the ones you could crush in an instant if you put your weight on them. They all worked in the industry, talented singers, models, or actresses. You didn’t understand the months away on set or crazy schedules. You weren’t that but he wanted it anyways.

“What’s up sugar?” He said in his thick Boston accent, hoping to get a smile out of you. You never had a good poker face and the scowl on your face thinking of his exes was probably obvious. But what right did you have to get jealous or ask? With your budding feelings you didn’t see it a good idea to get into deep and end up heartbroken by an A-Lister. You patted the sheets next to you, looking lazily to your empty side, sighing in response “Oh nothing… was just thinking how many other girls get to sleep in this bed?” you trailed off, avoiding eye contact.

Chris looked shocked and when you looked up to his eyes you could see a little hurt behind them as his mouth curved into a hesitant smile,

C: “None actually.”

Y/N: “Oh really?” you feigned in a shocked manner.

C: “Yes, really… you’re the only one and frankly, I’m happy with that.” He responded in a matter-of-fact tone.

Y/N: “I don’t believe it.”

C: “What’s not to believe?”

Y/N: “Why don’t we take a look at your exes for one.”

C: “Haha fine… they were nothing like you I can tell you that much.”

Y/N: “But that’s the point, Chris, they are nothing like me, they look nothing like me!” The insecurity in your voice pinged. C: “Yes correct, and that’s why they’re my exes, the public ones at least”.

It set in, that this was a classic case of good enough to fuck but not skinny enough to show off publicly you heart broke a little at the thought. You didn’t feel like a good secret anymore.

C: “Every single one lacked what you have that’s why I’m in bed with you and not them and I can even tell you why.”

He took your phone, googling “Complete Chris Evans relationship history”

“God, I feel like such a douche typing that.” he chuckled handing you the phone.

He perched himself on the chair beside the bed, his bare chest on display, the tattoos on his pecks barely peeking out behind his crossed form arms, veins protruding down the length. His hairy legs cross over as he leans back, a smirk planted on his face.

You scrolled to number one,

Y/N: “Ok here, Jessica Alba, 6 years!! What happened there?”

C: “I was young, stupid, didn’t want to settle, she’s married now, I’m with you, case closed.”

Satisfied with that answer you moved onto the next one…

Y/N: “Minka Kelly, 6 years, broke up once.”

He scoffed at the mention,

C: “If it didn’t work the first time, it’s not gonna work the second time then it’s definitely not going to work a third time.”

You went on.

Y/N: “Christina Ricci?”

C: “One-night stand, shit happens, wouldn’t do that again too old.” He chuckled.

Y/N: “Jenny?”

C: “Mid-life crisis, next.”

You were becoming less sure about your womaniser theory as the realisation of Chris’ actions set in. Maybe you weren’t another girl? Maybe all this pushing away and distance done to protect your heart wasn’t the best way to go about finding out if someone likes you or not.

Y/N: “Hmmm ok but what about Alba?”

This one was the closest in dates to you and she was exactly your opposite.

With his elbow now resting on his knee and his hand to his mouth, he quickly made a flinging motion, “small fling didn’t trust her.”

“Ok well...” You didn’t get to finish before Chris rolled his eyes, ripping the phone out of your hand in a swift motion, tossing it across the bed.

He crawled towards you on the bed, pinning you to the mattress, trapping you in between his arms as his palms pressed into the bed, nuzzling his prickly, 2-day old shave against your neck.

Your gasp at the sudden action was quickly followed by a light giggle at the tickling sensation on your sensitive spot.

“All you gotta know is that right now and hopefully for a long time to come you’re the only girl I want in my bed.” He purred in your ear.

“Why’s that Evans?” You egged, needing all the reassurance you could get right now.

“Oh, you want to go fishing now do you? Alright fine let’s go fishing!” he challenged in a tone much louder than his soft whisper before you, you squealed as he grabbed your hands pinning them above your head. As he pecked your sensitive neck with wet kisses.

With every soft kiss on your neck, he’d follow with:

“You’re funny”

kiss

“You’re witty”

kiss

“So incredibly clever” he trailed

Kiss, kiss, kiss

“Fucking sexy”

A long suckle of your neck

“And these, omg god these fucking tits will be the death of me”

He moaned as he buried his head into the valley your breasts.

He trailed his kisses back up to your neck towards your mouth but stopping short pulling back to take in the sight of you. Your lips slightly agape, hair lying in a mess on the pillow, your pale chest flushed with redness from the sudden assault.

“And that smile, every time I catch it, I think I fall a little more in love with you.” Your heart skipped at the sudden confession.

His eyes fell darker as he looked down at your plump lips, placing a soft kiss that made your breath catch in your throat.

You quickly regained yourself as he pulled away, letting the silence of the moment sit between you two first, “I don’t think you’re too bad either Christopher.” you smirked.

He delved the kiss deeper, as his tongue tried to travel down your throat, savouring the taste of you.

He roughly grabbed your waist, trying to pull every inch of you closer to him. His knee went between your legs, spreading your thighs with his force. His hand snaked towards your core as he beckoned his fingers around your panties. You raised your ass to assist as he raced to slide your panties off your thick legs and gorgeous calves. He kissed from your big toe all the way to your inner thigh, taking his time as he sucked, nibbled, and licked at your fleshy skin, leaving red marks fading in your porcelain skin. You moaned at the heat from his mouth giving you goosebumps on your skin. His placed his long tongue flat onto your seeping heat. Clasping his mouth onto your thick lip, suckling on the thick flesh, savouring in your musty cunt.

He cooed between your thick thighs,

“This is my pussy and my pussy only baby.”

“Give daddy all your juices baby.”

You withered under his tough, trying to squirm under his forceful grasp at your thighs, forearms wrapping around your delicious thick ass barely managing to make his fingertips reach your inner thigh due to their mass.

He continued his assault on your sensitive core, but you yearned for his thick member, to feel his heartbeat through his cock pulsate inside of you. Never have you so badly wanted to feel the gush of creamy cum fill up your hole.

“Daddy… please... I need it.” you moaned, pulling at the root of his fluffy hair, stirring a muffled moan from him.

“Hmm what was that baby… you want your cock?”

Your. Cock.

He was all yours, he wanted you just as badly, knowing he had finally worked up the balls to go for the girl he’d always needed and wanted.

He had been such a coward before, he feared the stability that came from settling, unable to fathom that at his age he found his perfect woman – too good to be true but he couldn’t bare to push her away.

He stressed whenever she didn’t reply, anxiety that he fucked it and you’d want nothing to do with him.

He thought you were too good for this lifestyle, you deserved privacy and protection, a normal life, but God knows it’s a crime to deny anyone else from seeing someone that beautiful.

And now he’d have to share her with world, worry that they won’t see what he does and will tear you down to a shadow of yourself, or you have every man and his wife thirsting over her, guys younger than him, who don’t have grey specks in their beard and newspapers calling him the “Eternal Playboy”.

He hated that title, fuck does he worry that you would brush him aside feeling like he’d treat you any less than you’d deserve.

He was never going to let you for a second doubt that he wasn’t grateful to have you.

He grabbed his thick member in his hand, rubbing over the tip, not like he needed more lube your cunt was literally pouring, and he hadn’t even made you cum yet.

Rubbing his swollen tip against your wet entrance, he loved watching your squirm and squeal under his touch.

“Open your eyes baby, I want you to see me stretch out that tight, fat pussy.”

You popped your head up meeting eye to eye with Chris, his mouth on yours. He motioned his eyes between you two, his cock slowly moves between your folds.

The force of his head breaking against your walls. You’d fucked many times before, but you were still getting use to his sheer size. But when he bottomed up on your cervix it’s like his cock was made for you - filling every each, on your hole.

He spent a moment just stagnant inside of you, wanting to savour the heat of your cunt, the feeling of you beneath him, just his.

“Please Chris… daddy… fuck me I need it.”

“Yeah baby… does that kitty want daddy?” Without warning he started his vigorous thrusts.

The aggressive thrust caused you to move up and down the silk sheets, your moans getting jaggered. You managed to choke out a daddy here and then, but Chris was doing all the talking:

"Yeah, you like that cock baby? That’s your cock, all yours baby.” As he continued hitting your cervix.

His hand reached down, determined to make you cum, as his thumb whirled around your swollen clit.

He bowed his head, his mouth open, popping a nipple into his mouth as he bit the nib ever so slightly to cause a sudden jerk reaction. He sucked on your nipple and swirled his tongue around your big areolas. Loving the surface, he could cover with his tongue.

You felt the coil in your stomach tighten as the heat rose from your canal. Chris felt your walls tighten around him knowing you were close.

"You gonna squirt for me baby? Come on... come on your cock baby, only you can cum on daddy’s cock... God you’re so good for me baby. “

With the final verbal encouragement, Chris gave you all the praise you needed to release on his cock, knowing after this you will have to change the sheets. You soak through them pushing Chris out with the gust of liquid flowing out of you.

“God baby… we are gonna have to get you a squirt blanket.” He chuckled shoving his cock back in… he wasn’t done with you yet.

His thrusts became sloppy and less catered to you. His grip had tightened on your hips, snaking both his hands to grab the heavenly plump bounds that was your ass as his nails dug into the flesh. His eyes were shut and his face scrunched up, pink lips parted as he focuses on his orgasm. Enjoying the feeling your pussy gives you.

“Oh fuck!” he twitched inside of you. “Are you close daddy? hmm? ready to fill me up with my cock?” You egged on his impending orgasm impatient to feel him inside of you, he twitched more as you continued. “That’s its daddy… cum for me.” Chris twitched for the last time and exploded inside you, his seed filling your hole, you wanted to always have him in you. You loved this feeling. He collapsed on you relaxing his weight onto your curvy body. Enjoying the built-in pillows, he has now all to himself. Once you knew he was done you tried to move away from his tight grip. 

He muffled into your boobs “Don’t move… I want my kids in you.” You blushed at the thought.

 “I love you so fucking much.” he leaned up and kissed you.

“I love you too.” Finally letting you move.

I didn't know your inbox is not full. I have manyyy ideas for fic. Can i send them? Do you write headcanon?

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

Would love to get into headcanons cause it’s so easy for me to get into and do on my phone so yes more of those people!!!

Oh. My. God.

Hi, can you write a smut with Chris Evans and girlfriend/reader where they're at a party, he's a little drunk and so horny, after reader realizes she decides to tease him even more that's where the sexual tension hits. When they get home there's a ton of make out sessions until he fucks her hard on bed.

*reader has a choking, rough sex and dirty talk kink. I'd like it to be pure filth smut, please.

After what I said you can do whatever you want with it, also it can be a long "story".

hi, I hope you like it.

warning - SMUT, fluff, daddy kink, choking.

18+ only please.

Chris tilts his head slightly, the cold beer sliding down his throat as his eyes focus on you. The blues of his eyes slowly become black with lust as he takes in the tight black dress hugging your curves. Chris can feel his cock straining against the zipper of his jeans, needing to be freed and buried deep inside your tight cunt, groaning lowly when you lean against the counter, pushing the ass he loves so much out. Chris places the empty beer bottle down as he walks over to you, pressing his bulge against your ass and resting his chin on your shoulder.

“Baby girl.” The deep rumble of his voice and his breath brushing up against your neck causes you to shiver, goosebumps forming all over. “I want you right now.” 

You look over your shoulder slightly, your eyes connecting with his lustful blue ones. “But, daddy. You promised me a night out.” As the words leave your mouth, your back arches causing your ass to brush up against his cock. Your breath hitches as Chris begins to press light kisses along your neck, his hands landing on your hips, squeezing them.

Chris begins to grind his hips into you along with the music, his eyes closing briefly at the slight friction he receives. “C’mon, baby girl. Don’t you want to make daddy feel good? Feel my hand around your throat as I pound my thick cock inside of you?” He makes sure to deepen his voice as he whispers into your ear. His cock twitches as a whimper falls from your lips. You reach behind and place a hand on the back of his neck, and your fingers play with his hair as your core throbs.

“I don’t know, daddy. I feel like we should stay and dance for a bit.” A small smirk forms on your face when you hear him growl before squealing as he lifts you and takes you outside, carrying you over to your house across the street. The moment you enter the house, your lips connect, giggles leaving you as Chris hurriedly walks to your room. When you land on the bed, you both wrap around each other. Lips move with passion, tongues dancing with one another as they fight for dominance.

Chris’s hand slowly moves up your body before settling on your throat, wrapping his long fingers around it before squeezing softly. He slowly pulls back to watch as your eyes roll to the back of your head and a soft whimper leaves you. “You want daddy to fuck you, baby girl? Do you think you deserve it?” You nod, your dazed eyes lock onto his lustful ones. Chris raises a brow, and his other hand slowly slides up your thigh before a glare falls upon his face, looking down. He lifts the dress, his hold tightening on your throat.

“What a fucking slut, wearing nothing at a party. Were you expecting this?” A sharp moan leaves your mouth as he slaps your glistening cunt. “I’m surprised you didn’t flash everyone with how fucking short this dress is. You’re my little slut aren’t you?” He groans when he watches your juices flow out of your little cunt. Unable to hold back, he quickly takes his throbbing cock out and lines it up with your entrance. 

Chris slowly looks into your eyes, waiting for your permission and when you nod. He pushes into you, your walls squeezing the thick base, and he continues to move until he bottoms out. “Jesus, you always feel like heaven.” Y/n wiggles around. Her hand squeezes the one around her throat to make it tighter.

He quickly maneuvers you so that your legs wrap around his waist, his cock sliding in and out of your tight cunt as he tightens his hand around your throat. “Fuck, baby girl. You’re so good for daddy, such a little slut, getting wet when my hand’s around your throat.” His pace picks up, pounding harder into his girl. The sound of skin slapping fills the room, as well as your moans and groans. 

Chris leans forward, your lips connecting, hips smacking together. “Chris, Chris, oh fuck! Daddy!!” Your cunt begins to pulsate around him as your core tightens, feeling your end approaching as Chris pounds into your sweet spot. The feeling of being full makes your mind go dizzy. Your hands come around, nails digging into his back as your head tilts back, and you scream. Your walls squeeze the thick cock inside you as your juices flow out, coating the base in cream. 

Chris groans, his hand tightening around your throat. His eyes roll back as he continues to pound into your cunt, your juices making it easier for him to slip in and out. Chris looks down, feeling his cock throb and balls tighten at the sight of your white cream coating him. Snapping his hips harder, causing you to move up the bed with the force of his thrusts before he buries deep inside and lets go. 

Both moan as he fills you up, some of it leaking out before Chris lies on top, and you both take deep breaths. He slowly rolls you over, making sure not to slip out as you lie on him. “You did good, baby girl.” You hum in response, head resting on his chest as your cunt flutters around the softening member, feeling contempt where you are. Chris’s hand comes up and strokes your hair and back, feeling himself relax.

“Feel better, daddy?” Your soft mumble can be heard on top of his chest. Your eyes slowly close as the exhaustion begins to hit, feeling safe in his arms and connected as he’s still in you. 

Chris hums, “yeah, baby girl. I love you so much.” His arms wrap tightly around you, holding you against him.

“I love you too.”

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

Wow i'm glad you do. For Nick Vaughan i want to ask for a fluff. (i never say no to smutt by the way :) ) Reader came from another country to new york. They met while reader is walking at the city at night. They start dating and fall so hard for each other. They decide to movie in in a small apartment which is a safe, sweet home to both. The first one that they have❤

Also, a request that is deserving of multiple parts! 🥰

Nick Vaughan X Reader Series

Take Me Home | Part 1: Meet Cute

A/N: Ooft... did this take a while! I am so sorry for the delay for my love @atoosa22 but i hope you enjoy the first part of what is sure to be a very fluffy (and soon to be smutty) series. ☘️😘

“Yeah mom, of course, uh-huh... yeah I’m heading home now… yes… it’s freezing here.” You pulled your keys out of the lock of your workplace, holding your phone between your shoulder and cheek as you listened to your mothers worries and concerns knowing she stood halfway across the world powerless while you were alone in the big city.

But there was no such thing as being alone in New York, all the sounds, the lights, the people. It never slept. But you certainly did.

3am and all you could think about is your nice, warm fluffy bed at home.

“Yeah mom, ok well I gotta go… I love you have a good day!”

You hung up, slipping your phone into your pocket. Tightening your coat around you, noticing the misty cloud that appeared when you breathed out. Fiddling with your keys in your hand, manoeuvring the teeth of the metal between your knuckles (just in case).

It was a 20-minute walk back to your apartment. What could happen in the 20-minute direct route to your apartment? 20 blocks. 20 minutes. Head forward. Shoulders back. One foot in front of the other.

Stragglers lined the street; sleeping homeless people, drunk patrons who have called it a night and a few bold individuals walking their dog.

You’re not alone. Never in New York.

You reached block 12 of your journey. With the building above it under construction a makeshift tunnel of plasterboard and wooden beams was your path. Poorly lit by a singular low functioning flood light above but with the rest of the street cut off, it was your only option.

The sound of your boots on the floor was drowned out by the sound of drunk male laughter. “Not every drunk man is a bad man” you thought as you followed the sound hoping to make it to the other side unfazed.

The tunnel was narrow, and the group of men took up most of the path, leaning against the walls, huddled in a group. Taking in a shaky breath you approached them, eager to pass without being perceived.

“Hey pretty girl where you going?” Mission failed as the man snarled at you. You bowed your head, suddenly becoming interested in the tips of your shoe that was until the presence of another matched you toe to toe.

He had blocked your path, forcing you to look up. “Hey when a man’s talking to you, you respond.” His voice was louder this time, agitated. You had heard it many times before in men. Angry men. Men who always got their way by force.

You clenched your fist around your keys, feeling the keychain make indents on your skin. The man had an audience, and he wasn’t going to relent.

“Why don’t you smile a little…” His hand edged towards your face but shot away suddenly at an echo from behind you.

“Baby hey why you walking so fast!” A man came up beside you, wrapping his hand tightly around your waist.

“Excuse me guys.” He gave a firm shoulder nudge towards the man in front of you, pushing him the side. Frozen in fear you let him lead you towards the exit.

You both walked in silence to the next block, far gone from the narrow tunnel.

“Thank you.” You finally let out.

“Oh, foreign that explains it.” He mutters. The fear in your body had now left, replaced with annoyance.

“What’s that supposed to me?” You pushed out of his grip around your waist. Now face to face with the man who technically saved your life.

He looked down on you, while a little wayward in appearance, he was tall and handsome a scruffy beard curving around a strong jaw. Even with layers he looked as though he packed a decent bit of muscle, enough to push your average creep down if needed.

“It means anyone whose actually from New York knows that when you look like that you shouldn’t be walking around it at 3am.” He spits, cocking his head to side in a condescending manner.

“For your information, I’ve done that walk many times since I moved here and that has never happened. And since when is it a woman’s responsibility to reconfigure their whole lives so creepy assholes don’t have a chance to take advantage of them?”

“That’s not what I meant.” He pinched his eyebrow in frustration.

“Well thank you for very much again and I hope you enjoyed your knight in shining armour moment.” You continued to walk, leaving behind your handsome saviour.

“Hey wait.” He jogged up behind you. You stopped in the middle of the sidewalk.

“God you do walk fast don’t ya?” His joke was met with your scowl.

“Let me at least walk you the rest of the way home?”

“Oh so you can know my address and then break in and kill me?” You scoffed.

“I would of been happy with a cup of thank you coffee.” He rubbed his neck, smirking at you.

“I don’t even know your name and you want to come back to my apartment?” You looked at him like he had two heads.

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

You put your hand up to stop him “Ok ok I get it you’re not a murderer.”

“Hey you cut me off at the best part!”

“Oh really?”

“I’m also the guy who makes sure a pretty girl who just had to deal with a drunken creep gets home safe.”

You pursed your lips inward to hide the smile threatening to come up as he called you pretty.

“Fine.” You let out.

“Wait a minute…” He stepped closer, holding out his pointer “What if you’re…” His finger threatening to push past your coat and touch the exposed skin of your chest. “The murderer.”

“Y/N, foreigner, passport holder of [your country], professionally [dream job] but also full time, loving daughter and occasional victim of drunken creeps.”

He thought for a moment, looking up at the skyscraper above him “Yeah that checks out.”

He held out his elbow, edging you to thread your hand in it. You looked at his arm in confusion.

“You’re cold I promise it’ll make you feel better.”

You were cold and his strong arm was inviting and with your limited experience of his arms around you, you knew that you liked it and it wouldn’t hurt to be able to savour the feeling this time. You begrudgingly slid your hand through.

Nick: “Is it rude to ask why you are walking home this late?”

Y/N: “Pushing it but if you must know I was closing at work.”

Nick: “Alone? They make you do it alone?” His voice laced with concern.

Y/N: “I’m not 15 so yes, they make me, an adult women close up shop at the end of the day.”

Nick: “Remind me not to start questioning the independence of a clearly very strong-minded woman.”

Y/N: “You learn quick, too bad you seem to be 30 years too late.”

Nick: “3 sisters, so excuse the natural instincts.”

Y/N: “Fair enough.”

Nick: “How do you drink coffee from where you’re from?”

Y/N: “In a mug.”

Nick: “Funny.”

Y/N: “I know. Now my turn.”

Nick: “Shoot.”

Y/N: “Why are you walking alone this late?”

Nick: “I’m a musician.”

Y/N: “Yes, but not a vampire so…”

Nick: “Most gigs are at night as well as drunk people are more likely to give up their cash.”

Y/N: “So, you’re a hustler?”

Nick: “I prefer the term opportunist.” He smirked at you.

“This is me.” You motioned towards the front step of your building.

“It’s pretty late-”

“I should let you go-”

You looked at each other, letting out soft laughter.

"Thanks for walking me home. I guess I owe you that cup of thank you coffee."

Nick grinned. "I'll hold you to that. How about tomorrow morning?"

"Sure, why not?" you replied, surprised by your own eagerness.

"But you're buying, you know struggling musician and all."

"Fine.”

"Goodnight, [Your country]."

“Goodnight, Nick.”

As he walked away, you couldn't help but feel a flutter in your stomach. Opening the door to your apartment, your back hitting the door as you slid to the ground, grinning like an idiot.