Heyyy Can You Make An Chris Evans X Reader One Shot About A "america's Ass" Conversation Funny And Fluff

do you think you may be able to write me an insecure plus size reader with preserum steve?

Prettiest Girl in The World

A/N: Pre-serum Steve makes me think 1940s so I set it in that time but if its not what you wanted let me know and i’ll redo it! I think you’re absolutely gorgeous (and so does Steve hehe) 💕☘️

WARNINGS: Mentions of body dysmorphia, heights, tight spaces, anxiety about size/taking up space, weight

“You excited Princess?” Steve squeezed your hand as you walked into the fair.

Steve had planned the sweetest date night ever, dinner and then a trip to the carnival so you could end your night with a big stuffed Teddy and a mouthful of Cotton Candy.

Being the gentleman, he is he paid for your ticket, hand going to the small of your back, leading you through the gate.

“Stevie, this has been the best date ever!” You squealed, kissing his cheek, leaving a red lipstick mark. Blush rose to his cheeks. Truth is, he was just a happy he got to walk around with a girl as as you.

You looked so pretty in your light blue wrap dress with white poka dots. It hugged your curves in all the right places and you had done your hair all cute. The dress was his new favourite thing and all he wanted to do was take a picture so he could remember it forever.

Bucky couldn’t believe it when you showed up next to him. “How’d you land that dime piece?” He’d say while nudging Steve arms. “My endless charm and good looks.” Bucky laughed, slapping his friend on the back encouragingly “No but seriously, how much you pay her?” Steve punched his friend on the arm.

“She works at the arts supplies store I go to. I kept going back every day to see her, buy a single pencil each time and she kinda caught on and asked if I wanted to go to the pictures with her. Nearly passed out with excitement, not before I said yes though.”

And here you two were, hand in hand walking towards the Milk Bottle Toss so Steve could get you the teddy bear he promised you.

“It’s ok if you don’t win honey these games are rigged anyways.” You put your hand on his shoulder as he got ready to throw.

“I promised you that bear so you’re getting the bear.” He said, seriousness in his voiced.

He missed all 3 bottles and almost hit a toddler walking behind you.

“Out of luck, Kid.” Said the old, bearded attendant.

“Another round.” Steve straightened out his jacket, stretching his arms.

“Stevie, baby you don’t have to spend all your money on the bear.”

“Don’t worry.” He put his arm around your waist, squeezing at your love handles a little.

“A kiss for good luck would help though.” He grinned at you sheepishly.

You rolled your eyes, grabbing the man’s face in your hand and planting a fat kiss on his lips.

Steve was stunned, his first real kiss. Blush rose to his cheeks and his eyes were wide in amazement.

He took a big gulp, turning to the attendant “I can do this all day.”

The confidence of the kiss led to Steve hitting all 3 bottles with one throw. You jumped in delight, clapping your hands as the attendant handed over the bear. You hugged it tightly, kissing Steve again.

“Thank you Thank you Thank you Thank you Thank you” You squealed pulling him into a big hug.

“Anything for my girl” he smirked smugly.

“Hey, let’s go on the Ferris Wheel, you can see the fireworks from way up high!” Steve looked at you excitedly.

Your palms started to sweat, but you weren’t afraid of heights. It was the anxiety of the seats. The all too small bench they put you on, whether the metal harness would go over your head and over your stomach. The fear of embarrassment when Steve realises that his chubby girlfriend can’t fit on a seat next to her boyfriend like the other skinny girls. How everyone would look and stare and wonder why a future US Soldier would be seen with a girl like you. Your face went white at the suggestion.

“Hey pretty girl, its ok it aint that high, I’ll hold your hand.” Steve smiled at you, blissfully unaware at your insecurities, not even giving your size a thought, heck all he saw was his beautiful girlfriend in front of him.

You simply nodded and let him take your hand towards the line.

You got to the front of the line, next in tow for the seat. The attendant lifted the rod, letting the couple before you free as they skipped off, you noticed all the space they had on either side of them. How you could never be the same.

You took in a deep shaky breath. “It’s alright, ladies first.” Steve gestured to let you slide in your first, you hit the arm rest and sat with your thighs laid flat, extenuating their mass. He squeezed in next to you, granted he sat happily but the image of the scrawny man squashed in a seat next to a clearly big girl haunted you.

The rod went over your heads, sitting comfortably against your stomach as a small roll formed on top of it. Your belly clearly squashed in.

“I like this bench; means I get to be nice and close to you.” Steve purred in your ear as you started to rise. His hand falling to your thigh, squeezing slightly for comfort.

“You sure I’m not taking too much room?” You looked at him hesitantly.

“Nonsense and why would it matter? The closer I am to you the happier I am.”

“I’m not the skinniest girl at the fair Steve, I don’t know why you even wanted to go out with me.”

“What? Who said something? I’ll kill em.” Anger flashed in his eyes.

“No one said anything but they sure as hell are thinking it.”

“So? Who cares what anyone else thinks. Gosh, I think you’re beautiful Y/N. I always think people are looking and wondering what a beautiful girl like you is doing with some skinny schmuck like me. I mean even Bucky thinks you’re cute.” He looked at you, shaking his head a little.

“You really think I’m beautiful?”

“Not just beautiful, I think you’re the prettiest girl in the world. Besides, I like how you look in that dress, gosh, I like how you look in anything, in the apron at the shop when it gets all tight around your waist giving you those movie star curves, I even think you’d look good in nothing at all.” Steve winked at you, whispering the last line in your ear.

You couldn’t speak at his little speech about you, tears threatened to spill as no one had ever told you you’re beautiful like that.

Steve lifted his arm up over your shoulder “Now, scooch a little closer, I want as much of you as I can get.”

You finally relaxed into Steve’s arms, laying your head on his shoulder as he drew soft circles on your arm. You both looked up at the sky, enjoying the firework display. His mouth coming down to place a soft kiss on your forehead.

“My beautiful girl.” He whispered in your ear.

Chris & Dodger Evans Dividers - 1

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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.

**********************************************

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.

I have no excuse for this

All These Things and More

Paring: Ransom Drysdale x Reader (Minx)

Word Count: 2.8 K

Summary: Ransom is a dad now, but you’re neglecting Daddy

Warnings: 18+ As always, MINORS DNI, SMUT, RPF. Not Beta’d. All mistakes my own. Cute little baby vibes, Ransom as a soft dad, Minx as a good mom, a little bit of angst, going overboard for the holidays, pining. Lactation kink, breast play, oral sex (m receiving), degradation kink, allusion to fingering, female receiving oral, creampie, edging, overstimulation, and anal.

A/N: This is for #DJ’sAllIWant4KChristmas and based on this ask. This is a companion piece to Coercion and Marshmallow World.

I no longer operate a taglist. Follow @rampitupandread to be notified when I post.

I Do NOT consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.

Ransom rolled over into a pile of pink cuteness.

You were dead asleep in your custom pink chiffon nursing nightgown, and his daughter, dressed in a flowery pink footed sleeper, had wiggled out of your arms and was sitting up, staring at him with the biggest, prettiest eyes he’d ever seen.

Ransom frowned when he realized that you must have gotten up to get her from the nursery in the middle of the night instead of waking him. He’d told you about getting your rest. But Golden was going through a growth spurt and had taken to waking up in the middle of the night after a few months of sleeping through. 

Ransom’s frown melted as his daughter smiled and laughed at him, waving cutely. Another woman had his heart now and her puff of blonde curly hair and light brown skin made her the most beautiful baby in the world, he thought.

Especially since he thought she looked just like you.

Keep reading

Hi are you accepting request now? 😅

YES GIVE THEM TO ME!!!

oh you should definitely write about Chris marrying the love of his life, reader who is a well-known director. Reader meets chris's "ex rp" , alba B, who is trying to get the part of the movie that she was directing but reader says no! LOL

This is such a horrible and mean request…

I love it cannot wait to write it 😌💕

Going to wait till everything cools down though cause I need confirmation that miss girl is truly an ex also don’t need to be wrapped up in a scandal. 🤠

I’ve also been blocking this out so please put a TW next time you bring up her name. In my universe she simply does not exist ✨

Please note I am a hater first and a feminist second 💅🏼💕

Any news from WIP?

Huh?

Update: omg I’m so sorry I used my brain and actually figured out what that was. I am sorry lovelies I will get to writing soon just need a little inspiration and a big sleep 🍀🥰

Me in bed watching Before We Go

For you @atoosa22 💕☘️

A fluff where Steve Rogers and his wife reader dropping off their daughter or son to college for the first time. The two cried on how much their child has grown up

Off to College

A/N: Wait.. why am I crying 😭 This is, in my opinion, one of my best fluffs yet. Stop cutting onions guys!

WARNING: Tissues on hand needed.

“She’s too young.” Steve’s hands gripped the steering wheel, eyes focused straight ahead.

  “She’s 18 Steve. That’s the average American age to go off to college.” You replied to your husband. 

“You know I’m right here and can hear you guys, right? Like, theres no soundproofing between the back and the front seats.” Your daughter Sarah pulled out an air pod from her ear, jumping into the conversation.

“Well as I was saying, I don’t care I still think you should of stayed back a year at home.” Steve retorted, looking in the rear-view mirror at his little girl who now resembled that of a young woman about to go off to college.

“May I remind you, DAD, that at 18 you were joining the army to go fight in the second world war. Whereas I’m simply moving across the state.”

“In many ways my daughter going off to college and war are the same thing to me.”

You turned behind you and shared a puzzled look with your daughter. While she mostly resembled you, she had Steve’s piercing blue eyes. 

“How so?” You egged on your husband to elaborate.

“I’m scared shitless about both of them.” He let out a loud sigh.

“Dad… its fine!”

“Repeat to me the rules.”

“Omg not this again.” You put your forehead into your palm, dreading to listen to this speech for the 50th times.

“Dadddd” Sarah whined in the backseat

“So, help me God I will turn this car around, unless you repeat to me the rules, Sarah Mae Rogers.” He turned his head to the backseat, giving her his classic “I’m not playing around” eyes. 

“No drinking. No drugs. No “philandering” with the opposite sex…is that even word?”

“It is.” You and your husband said in unison

“No staying out past 1 and in the case of a national emergency inclusive of war, alien invasion, terrorist attack; extra-terrestrial...

“And domestic... don’t forget that!” He interjected

“…and domestic I am to find immediate shelter, call you to give you my location and wait until the ship arrives to take me to the safe house.” She groaned finishing the spiel.

“Good.” Steve smiled, satisfied with her memorisation of his rules.

You gave your daughter a sympathetic smile, knowing while some rules may get broken you had raised a smart, young woman with her wits about her. 

It’s not that Steve didn’t trust his daughter who he had trained in hand-to-hand combat since the age of 3, it’s just that he knew the world was scary. Sending his only daughter off alone, miles away from home terrified him. He wouldn’t be there to protect his little girl anymore. 

You exited the car to the chaos of move in day at the popular university. Steve insisted he take all the boxes up in one trip. All stacked high above him, he didn’t break a sweat carrying them up the 5 flights of stairs towards her dorm. 

Your daughter bowed her head in embarrassment as she walked 10 steps behind her father, watching as people stopped and stared at the superhero, whispers filled the halls as he gave kind nods to everyone who he walked past. 

You came up beside her,

“Mom everyone is staring why didn’t he just wait in the car!”

“Well neither of us were going to carry the boxes, besides your father is a respected man, he saved humanity that’s nothing to be embarrassed about!”  

“Yeah, I get it but he’s still embarrassing!”

You wrapped your arm around your daughter’s shoulder.

“You know he’s just as nervous as you are right?”

“Why would he be nervous? He’s not the one who has to be known as Captain America’s daughter!”

“No, he doesn’t.” You sighed stopping her in the hall and pulling her off to the side. 

“Do you remember when you were five and you really wanted to jump off the roof into the pool?”

“Yeah...”

“And we said no but you climbed up the ladder anyways and being five you miscalculated the distance between the ledge and the pool.”

“Yeah…”

“Who caught you before you hit the ground?”

“Dad…”

“Right and when you were 10 and you fell over your bike, breaking your arm… who was the first person who came to your aid and took you to the hospital?

“Dad”

“Exactly and when aliens invaded earth 3 years ago what was the first thing your dad did before going to headquarters?”

“He came to school and picked me up.”

“Exactly.”

“What’s your point?”

“My point is from the moment you were in my belly your dad has spent every moment of his life trying to protect you from the world. He realises he’s not going to be right by side anymore… and he’s scared. Scared of losing you.”

“He’s not going to lose my mom, I’m an adult now I’m fully capable of taking care of myself.” 

“I know that, and he knows that. But it doesn’t matter how old or big or strong you get he is always going to care about you. It will always be his number priority to keep you safe and that’s not going to change anytime soon.” You brushed a strand of her hair behind her ear.

Your daughter looked down, biting her lip. 

“Come on let’s go unpack.”

You walked her into her dorm. 

You got to work setting up her room. She put up fairy lights on the wall, while you fluffed the pillows on her bed. Steve assembled all her little bits of furniture.

As a final touch, Steve pulled out a framed photo. Sarah in the middle, between both of your arms. She was only 3 in it, a big smile between her chubby cheeks, her arm up in superhero pose, dressed in her mini captain America shirt. It was his favourite family photo and lived on his bedside table. He looked at it a little, wiping a tear from his eye before he placed it on her bedside table.

“Alright you’re all set! We are going to head out now sweetheart you need anything else?” You chirped.

“Nope, I’m good. Thanks for helping guys.”

You gave your daughter, your final hugs and kisses and exited the room down the hall. 

She studied her room, satisfied with her interior decorating skills. Then suddenly, she noticed the photo that appeared had on her bedside table. She picked it up and held it in her hands. Suddenly, she felt the tears well up in her eyes.

“Wait!” She ran down the hall, just catching you both before you went down the stairs. 

You both looked back to see your daughter running towards you. With a thud she landed against her father’s chest. Wrapping her arms around his waist in a hug. Instantly, Steve hugged her back, pulling her tightly towards him. 

“I love you dad.” She whispered against his chest. 

Steve’s head fell to the top of his little… now big girl’s head. His hand encompassing her head. Kissing her forehead tenderly. “I love you too kiddo. Be safe.”

“I will.” Tears welled up in your eyes watching their embrace. She pulled out of the hug, gesturing towards you. 

“I love you mom.” “I love you too baby.” All 3 of you huddled together in an embrace. Both parents wanting to hold onto their daughter for a little longer. 

You all pulled out and said your now final goodbye. Brushing away tears. 

You held your husband’s hand as you exited the college dorm building.

“She’s too old for me now babe.”

“She’s never going to be too old for her daddy.”

He pulled you into his arm, kissing your forehead. 

Sarah was going to be just fine. And besides, she’ll be home in 2 weeks anyways to get you to do her laundry. 

TAGS: @royalwriteroftheuniverse (girl you're gonna wanna see this!)